#those are...shockingly few and far between online :/

[tetedurfarm]

i know this is a long haul video, but it's also an extremely good breakdown of the myth of self-sustainability homesteading and how you should never believe everything you see online or in books. also a little bit about how joel salatin suck ass, actually.

this shit is not easy and it doesn't make money. i am only allowed to do this because my spouse is a software engineer in the video game industry. don't fall for the promise of being able to pay your way via a small farm. the only thing small-scale homesteading gives you is a sense of accomplishment, a connection to your food, and at least one joint injury that you will need to go to physical therapy for. i will never talk anyone out of wanting to grow their own food, because i think it's an extremely good and important thing to do, but i will always encourage you to do it within your means with a realistic vision of that future.

[regular-dog]

Hey @five-rivers, happy truce! I decided to go with your prompt about danny attending a cultural ritual or event, and themed it around the far frozen. My explanation for it got a little longwinded so I've included it under a read more, along with a little extra art!

(tumblr’s probably gonna crunch all of these up a bit, so click for better quality)

I'll be honest, I haven't actually thought out the exact details of what this event would be, just the broad strokes - I tend to gravitate towards food as a source of celebration in my own worldbuilding, and I guess that bled through here as well in the form of “ice = water = probable fish based diet = important fish event?”

During drafting I couldn’t really decide between “event centred around observing fish migration and/or other seasonal habits” or “Danny being invited to come fishing with Frostbite and the other yeti”, but honestly I think either of those would probably fit. Originally I had planned to have one or two yeti characters swimming around with him to make the piece more dynamic, but a surprise attack from a migraine kind of cut into my plans a bit and I decided to downsize.

...at least until I got annoyed by the lack of a visible ghost friend in the piece and decided to paint a “small” “”extra”” “””doodle””” which rapidly turned into a whole other Thing,

There are shockingly few ghost fish in the show, apparently, or at least I could neither remember nor find images online of any examples, so I just kind of winged it. Their design is partially inspired by a short story you wrote a while back, although I ended up drifting away from the zebrafish motif as I was drafting them. I started thinking of them as maskfish as a stand-in name, and then promptly forgot to think of a better one, so. Maskfish it is. Here's some random notes I made while conceptualising them, because I constantly have specbio on the brain and couldn't not think about it

Maskfish flesh turns an opaque pale colour when cooked, and remains translucent when raw

Their eyes are covered in a clear, hard exterior, and can be hollowed out and sterilised for use in various crafts; along similar lines I could also see their bones being used to make glues, paints, and other such resources.

Their cores are located at the top of the spinal cord, in the head; their mouths are located on the underside, beneath the "mask", which makes up the entire top part of the head, and is a singular piece of a shell-like material.

Though they aren't particularly agressive hunters, they also aren't picky about their food, and will generally eat anything smaller than themselves.

Aaand finally, here's a bunch of isolated scans, since procreate ate a lot of the fine details in the collaging process.

[deniigi]

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

--

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

 MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

 How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

--

 @blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

--

 It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

--

 People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

--

 It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

--

 GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

 Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

 MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

 Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

--

 It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

 MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

��HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

--

 It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

 GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

 Silence.

 MM: oh no

 Yeah. Fuck.

 MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

 Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

 MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

 There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

 GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

--

 It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

 GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

--

 DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

 MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

 Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

 MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

 That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

 MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

 Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

--

 Two hours. One text.

 MM: >:/

 Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

 GL: good news?

MM: [image]

 He opened it.

 SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

 What.

 MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

 Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

 GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

 No way. Siblings were wild.

 GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

  SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

 The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

 MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

 Miles took a long time to respond.

 MM: yeah

 Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

 GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

 Oh, nice. That was a relief.

 MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

 Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

 GL: sure

 --

  [GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

 It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

 GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

 There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

 SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

 Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

 MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

 Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

 SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.  

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

 Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

 GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

 That—

Sounded kind of nice?

 GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl                                    

 That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

 GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

 Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

[vinceaddams]

obvs feel free to keep this private, but I got recommended the UFH channel by a friend of mine, haven't gotten around to watching anything from it. I trust your judgement on the content, but my friend considers it her main resource 🙃 of course, since you only watched a few videos you might not be able to answer this, but was there any specific really bad/unacademic approaches I should keep my eye out for that my friend might have adopted? we work on a historical festival together so im concern

(I was going to answer this privately but then it got really long and turned into a post I want to post.)

Oh dear! Well, It appears that the lady behind that channel only cares about the 20th century, so maaybe she’s got good stuff on the 20th century at least? I don’t know, but the 2 videos that I saw were so incredibly awful that I’m highly suspicious of all her stuff. 

The first bad thing about her channel is that her videos all have a one or two sentence caption and nothing else. (I clicked on a few more just to check) No sources listed, no links of any kind except to her merch store. I don’t recall her mentioning any particular sources for any of the things she said in the videos either, she just declared them very matter of factly. 

Good historians cite sources! Bernadette Banners’ video on the history of PPE has so many source links she ran out of room in the description box and had to put the rest of them on a page on her website.  (Oh poo, now I feel a bit bad because I love Karolina Zebrowska but she really needs to do better with leaving source links. But she does talk about doing research, talk in a more nuanced way, and doesn’t present herself as an expert or academic, unlike the UFH lady.)

Good historians also embrace nuance, and aren’t afraid to say “I don’t know” or “I was wrong”. Presenting things in a “this person did this one big thing, and then this happened, and that caused this” kind of way isn’t good because history is more like “all these things happened and as far as we can tell it appears to have influenced this, which was also connected to this other stuff that we don’t know all that much about”. History is foggy and complicated, no matter how much the general public wants it to be simple.

Her description of herself also seems a bit... misleading? In her about page on youtube it says “Amanda Hallay, a college professor specializing in fashion, costume, and cultural history.” but if you look at the CV linked on her website the only degrees she has are in creative writing and art history. I’m not saying a person can’t be really knowledgable about something without a degree, but her whole online presence is about being a “professor” who teaches this stuff so I find it weird.

And if the 1850′s-60s video is anything to go by, she presents things in a shockingly unprofessional way. She starts off by saying she thinks these fashions are ugly and ridiculous and that she has some “theories of her own” on them. @marzipanandminutiae has a post with a lot more about what was wrong with that video, and a few others I haven’t seen. She claims that hoop skirts were oppressive cages when in reality they were a liberating garment that allowed women to achieve full skirts without the heavy layered petticoats they wore previously. 

She posts a photo of a naked lady and says “Now lets start with a beautiful naked lady and cover her up with ugly and unflattering clothes. Now this sexy naked lady isn’t so sexy” I wish I was making this up but that’s almost word for word what she said. Along with a whole lot of untrue or exaggerated stuff about Victorian modesty. She says dresses with layered flounces were called “pagoda dresses”, which isn’t a term that anyone has ever used for those dresses. She says this is cut down from a longer video she uses for teaching class, and I find the thought of this being presented in a classroom quite appalling.

After spending about 95% of the video talking about womens fashion in an extremely condescending and disdainful tone of voice, she posts what appear to be the 5 biggest and most extreme examples of 19th century moustaches she could find, presenting them as if they were what every man looked like.

This part really grinds my gears, because she says “I haven’t said anything about menswear because there’s really not much to say.” She posts photos of suits from 5 different decades and says they’re basically all the same, and also basically the same as a modern suit. Excuse you, there is A LOT of difference between menswear of the 1850′s and the 1890′s. Yes the changes over the decades are more subtle, and the colours are often more subdued than in centuries past, but it is absolutely not (as she claims) “the century when men stopped doing fashion”.   I personally am not hugely interested in 19th century mens fashion, and can tentatively date things in the first few decades but after the middle of the century I can’t. But people who are interested and who study that era can tell the decades apart. Because they’re different. And there is SO MUCH to talk about! Suits for different levels of formality, accessories, waistcoats, sportswear, sleepwear, knitwear, swimsuits, loungewear, underwear, etc. are all extremely different from their modern equivalents. 

It’s perfectly fine to only study womens fashion if that’s what you’re interested in, but it is not okay to then declare that the history of mens fashion is worthless and nonexistent. Simply not being interested in a thing is no excuse for publicly shitting all over it. (I’ve seen people do this more than once. We already have so few men who do historical fashion stuff! Stop putting off newcomers who might be interested!!)

The fact that her online presence is so closed off is also highly unusual. Comments are turned off for her videos, and the only social media link she has is to a private facebook group. (There is also a link to a fb page, but it appears to have been deleted.) Turning off comments is of course the personal choice of the one posting the videos, but the fashion history side of youtube usually tends towards pretty decent comment threads, and people often have nice little discussions and learn stuff in them. Here it looks like she doesn’t want discussion, doesn’t want to be contradicted or asked for sources, doesn’t want to learn new things.

I had never even heard of this channel until I saw @marzipanandminutiae mention it, nor have I ever heard any of the many historical costumers/youtubers I follow mention it, yet somehow it has 55k followers? I don’t know the demographics that watch it (especially not with the comments turned off!) but I’d wager that videos like the 1850′s-60′s one I suffered through are mainly watched by people who like hearing things trash talked, rather than people who actually want to learn about fashion history. The same sort of people who loved that Beau Brummell twitter thread, which was also full of lies and unsourced garbage. People like to believe the past was way worse and grosser than it was because it makes them feel like we’re smarter and better now.

Lastly, the whole premise of the channel is just bad. Calling any one thing “The Ultimate Fashion History” is a bad idea. Her channel trailer says “Youtube’s number one channel for original fashion history content” “we’ve got it all, fifty thousand years of fashion history”. You can’t have one channel that’s the ultimate resource for ALL of fashion history! It’s a huge, HUGE subject, and even if she did do actual good research she’d barely be able to scratch the surface of fifty thousand years. That’s like saying one channel is the ultimate source for all of science, or all of music, or all of cooking. No one thing can come close to covering all of it. I will deign to admit that she’s at least right to call it “original”, because she has some very original lies I haven’t found anywhere else. 

Most people who study fashion history/historical sewing have one or several eras they like best and find most interesting, perhaps with occasional jaunts into other eras. This way we can focus and get a much better understanding of the eras that we find most interesting, rather than just a vague notion of everything. 

For example: I’m most interested in 18th century menswear, and so far have mainly researched and sewn 1785-95 stuff, and more recently some 1730′s. I usually focus on fashionable civilian clothing, so I don’t know as much about working class clothes, and next to nothing about military and other occupational dress. Even with this narrow area of interest, which I’ve been obsessed with for many years, I still have so much to learn! I could never make anything claiming to be the ultimate source for 18th century menswear, because I’m just one person focusing on some aspects, and there are other people out there who research other aspects of it and their work is just as important. It’s all so big and so much, even if you narrow it down to one era.

Amanda Hallay is basically holding up a bucket of saltwater and calling it the ocean.

I haven’t watched any of her 20th century videos, so maybe they’re better than the older ones I watched. I don’t know. (But even if they’re actually good they still don’t have source links.) Edit: okay, nope, turns out they’re just as bad! They appear to make up the vast majority of her videos, so if she’s most interested in the 20th century then maybe she should just... make her channel more clearly 20th century focused instead of trying to paint it as a channel for all eras?

TL;DR, the main bad things about that channel are:

Lying and making ridiculous claims, not citing ANY sources. Spouting easily debunked myths.

Stating things matter of factly without any nuance, even though history is foggy and complicated.

Being extremely judgemental about historical fashions and talking about how much she hates them and thinks they’re ugly, which really isn’t appropriate for a fashion history teacher. You can hear the disgust in her voice and it’s awful and I hate it.

Comments turned off on all her videos, leaving no way to communicate or have public discussions. Unknowing viewers are left to accept her statements as fact without any outside opinions.

Claiming one channel is the ultimate channel for an incalculably enormous subject. Says it covers 50,000 years of fashion history when it’s mostly just the 20th century.

I would like to add that I am not what I would consider an expert either, and have no formal education in fashion history beyond the one college class that was part of my 2 year sewing course. I have learned mainly from books and the internet, and as I said earlier I still have a huge amount to learn. I’m sure a more knowledgable historian could put things better than I have. 

But I’m confident in stating that primary sources are needed to back up a claim! Sometimes even widely accepted beliefs turn out to be entirely unfounded myths, like that one about doctors using vibrators to treat “hysteria”. Total nonsense someone made up in 1999.

Wow this post got way longer than intended. Anyways, yes, I do not like condescending slideshow lady.

[mylifeincinema]

My Week(s) in Reviews: March 20, 2022

Sorry I missed last week, but I only had The Batman, and figured with the absurdity of the recency bias surrounding it online, y’all wouldn’t really care about my thoughts on that middling, already astoundingly overrated film. Anyway, let’s get into it...

The Batman (Matt Reeves, 2022)

The biggest problem with all the comparisons to Se7en and Zodiac is that they are both far superior films to Matt Reeves' The Batman. Unlike the two Fincher films, which are each its own unique masterclass in pacing, the pacing here is all over the place. Reeves either rushes through or drags through scene after scene, robbing them of any emotional depth, tension or thrills.

That's not to say it's all bad. The first half or so is really pretty great. It's always awesome to see Batman doing some actual leg-work, and the early Riddler kills are some pitch-black shit. But by the time we get to the all-around disaster that is the final act, it's far gone from that effectively bleak serial killer mystery. And the final act itself, with the Riddler’s unnecessarily grand finale, an incel army, its series of overly rushed character moments and poorly shot/edited action, is just painful. Don't even get me started on that hilariously bad character tease in Arkham.

The cast is pretty damn fantastic, though. Pattinson makes for a pretty badass Batman; focused, imposing and thoughtful, he works each scene like the brilliant detective he is (or rather... is becoming). As Bruce Wayne, however, he's too awkward, making those scenes uncomfortable and flat. Colin Farrell's Penguin deserves his own movie. And really, so does Jeffrey Wright's Gordon. Zoë Kravitz made for a solid Catwoman, but too much of her dialogue was painfully bad. Paul Dano was effective as the Riddler until we get to that final act, where he gives in too much to the script's dialogue. But that's no fault of Dano's; it's just another case of the really bad dialogue that too much of this film's second half is drowning in. Also, I missed that John Turturro was in this, so it was a treat seeing him as Falcone.

Reeves’ Apes films were uniformly fantastic, but here his work seems unfocused and lost in itself. Fraser’s cinematography is solid but robbed by the film's editing. Giacchino's score is unsurprisingly awesome. But it’s the production design that (probably) steals the whole damn film. Gotham is such a rain-soaked, filthy, dismal shithole, here, filled with character fitting of such a city.

A lot of that sounds more harsh than it maybe should. Truth is, I mostly enjoyed this despite its flaws. Until that final act, at least. - 7/10

Turning Red (Domee Shi, 2022)

The intro to this film is the single worst thing Pixar has given us... period. Thankfully, aside from a few characters that are Illumination-level annoying, once we’re past that intro we’re given the exact type of heartfelt story Pixar has so consistently delivered over the years. Turning Red tackles the changes of growing up in a way that sensitive, thorough and creative. Plus, the character design on Mei’s Panda is just adorable. This still falls firmly within the bottom-tier of Pixar’s filmography, but that doesn’t stop it from being an insightful, emotionally rich piece of coming-of-age filmmaking. - 6/10

The Adam Project (Shawn Levy, 2022)

Well, damn. Sure, I get all the hate for Reynolds. The thing is, I also wholly disagree with it. Yeah, he’s a one-trick pony, but it’s a likable trick and with the right material and actors to work with, his earnest face and emotional connection to the material elevate said trick. That’s what happens in this shockingly emotional sci-fi/action flick. The chemistry between just about every actor/character is fantastic. The heavier moments work thanks to said chemistry and Levy’s balanced/grounded approach to bringing the screenplay to life visually. And the story itself excites and pulls on the heartstrings in a way that makes the plot-holes almost entirely forgivable. This was a surprise... an absolute treat that was at once fun and shockingly emotionally shattering. - 8.5/10

Fresh (Mimi Cave, 2022)

Love that the opening credits don’t drop until 33-minutes in. Love how twisted Sebastian Stan’s character is, and how fun he’s having with him. Love that it keeps a very dark humor throughout the whole film. And I especially love how brutal the final act gets. This wasn’t quite the film I was expecting going in, but then it ended up being even more enjoyable whatever that film was. - 7.5/10

Mass (Fran Kranz, 2021)

The cast is great. Really needed about 20-minutes cut (especially that sluggish, unnecessary opening) and better direction to really do the dialogue and performances the justice they deserved. - 4/10

Kimi (Steven Soderbergh, 2022)

Fantastic. Easily Soderbergh’s best directorial work since Contagion, or at the very least, Side Effects. David Koepp’s screenplay is incredibly taut, intriguing and paired with Soderbergh’s work, superbly paced. And Zoë Kravitz is just so damn good; her frustration and fear blend and transform throughout in a manner as riveting as it is authentic. This not only does its inspirations justice, but does so in a way that makes it stand up tall on its own. - 9/10

Enjoy!

-Timothy Patrick Boyer.

[northernscruffycat]

Tagged by @101flavoursofweird

I’ll tag @pandirpus @krokonoko @my-artblog-is-ssjumi @yallemagne @amberrgalaxy @swamp-y and anyone else who wants to do this. But this is a pretty long one, so don’t feel like you have to :3 (On that note, I’ll be putting most of this under a cut for exactly that reason)

How many works do you have on AO3?

131 at the moment. But some of those are different oneshots from FFN that I posted into one fic when porting over to AO3, so I’d be fascinated by what the actual amount of fanfics I’ve written is.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

1242922 words

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Just counting what’s on AO3, so far I’ve written for 17 fandoms. They are: Free!, Professor Layton, Hades Game, Steven Universe, Pokemon, Ace Attorney, Yu-Gi-Oh DM, Yu-Gi-Oh GX, Yu-Gi-Oh 5d’s, Sonic the Hedgehog, Super Mario, Dr. Stone, Tintin, Night in the Woods, GetBackers, Good Omens and Cooking Mama What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

‘just wanted to write a fic where senku says ‘get excited’ during sex’ (My SenGen oneshot that gets a wave of attention whenever a new chapter or episode of Dr. Stone comes out)

‘laughable’ (An Ares/Hypnos oneshot I wrote purely as a sample for a zine app and underestimated how popular that ship is lol)

‘the prince with specific tastes; the king with specific regrets’ (THAT Theseus fic. My absolute fave thing I’ve ever written)

‘Shallow Grave, Shallow Bae’ (A Reigisa fic based on Octopimp’s 50% Off! abridged series of Free!; I honestly do think this fic slaps and I’m glad folks like it)

‘Barrel of Monkeys’ (The AsaIku & KisuHiyo collab fic I wrote with Amber that was a lotta fun and I’d love to do something like this with them again one day for a different fandom. Also, I feel like we captained the small KisuHiyo fandom with this fic back in the day)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I generally respond to comments. Almost always, unless I really can’t think of anything to say in reply, which is pretty rare. Comments make me so happy and I just want to let people who do comment know that I appreciate them.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I think the angstiest fic I wrote was a Free! fic called ‘Moves Across the Land’ - the premise of which is that Makoto died as a young adult of an illness and each chapter is a different person in his life receiving a letter that he wrote for them before he died. But that one had an optimistic ending, with Haru and Kisumi unexpectedly finding a newly strengthened friendship in sharing the grief of Makoto’s death. So I guess technically the angstiest ending I wrote was a short Archie/Maxie oneshot where Maxie gets killed by Kyogre lol

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes, but I ended up agreeing with it! Waaay back (probably more that 10 years ago at this point), I wrote a bunch of Layton/Rosetta oneshots that I now don’t stand by. One of them, in my naivety, I went too far with and breached uncomfortable territory. I got a couple of comments about how uncomfortable it was, so I ended up deleting that particular fic and felt better after it was gone.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I am a fledgling at writing smut, which is probably obvious to anyone who’s read my smut haha. When I do write it, I prefer to focus on the dialogue between the characters - I like a banterous smut scene. Also, they’re usually pretty tame. I like writing about handjobs, blowjobs and wanking the most when I do write smut.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, not that I know of, but that would be awesome! A few years ago, a kind person messaged me about potentially translating my Layton fic ‘Grasping Liquid’ into French, but I don’t think they went through with it in the end. Though honestly, the dialogue and slang in that fic is pretty much illegible in English, so I reckon it’d be a tough fic to translate.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, the aforementioned ‘Barrel of Monkeys’ that I co-wrote with @amberrgalaxy It was a lot of fun and I love it :D

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Hmm... I don’t think I have a single all time favourite. I jump through a lot of OTPs and they always mean a lot to me, but it wouldn’t seem fair to pick out a single one that’s always shined brighter than the others, because that’s not really how my hyperfixations work. But my current favourite ships are Momus/Heracles (to be narcissistic) and TheseZag from Hades Game. While my oldest ship that I’m still invested in is Yami/Seto from Yu-Gi-Oh DM.

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

Shockingly, I don’t have any right now. A few years ago (I think 2018?), I made a point of going back and finishing ALL my old WIPs that I’d left hanging but intended to finish, even for fandoms I didn’t plan on going back to. So that freed my conscience of them and felt pretty good. At the moment, my only WIP is ‘if found please return to the underworld’ - an AU where Zagreus does make it to Olympus, so Hades sends Theseus, Asterius and Meg to try to get him back. But I’ve only just started writing that one, so I do hope to stick with it until it’s finished.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. Definitely dialogue. I’m told that I capture the canon voices of characters pretty well and that’s always what I’m trying the hardest to get right, so it means a lot to me. I also feel like I’m good at keeping a fic flowing, without being bogged down by too much detail. But the downside of that is that I often sacrifice description, so I still hope to find the balance. Since Hades Game has more flowery prose than I’m used to, I think getting into that series actually helped me with this.

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

I do not think I am experienced enough to be able to pull this off well and would worry too much about making mistakes.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

It was Pokemon, but those fics aren’t online anymore. The oldest fics you can still find buried somewhere with my name attached to them are Sonic fics.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

‘the prince with specific tastes; the king with specific regrets’ - Sometimes I look back at that fic and wonder if I actually wrote it, since I avoided falling into all of my usual traps: I researched it properly and frequently, I kept the focus on the five main characters instead of getting distracted by introducing a million other character like I usually do, I plotted the fucker out from start to finish instead of winging it, and I worked the flashbacks into it in a way that balanced the present-day out instead of distracting from it. Also, I got the whole thing written in about two months, instead of staling for years. ...Whatever possessed me when I wrote that fic, please come back. (It was the first time I’d had two weeks off together in about three years, so I think that had a lot to do with it) OH YEAH and that same kinda villain OC who I recycle in every fandom I’m in actually landed this time. It brought me so much joy to see how much people loved to hate Momus. Those two months when I was posting that fic are easily a highlight of my life. :D

[poepoe-thebunny]

Rudy/Tony and Fam during Quarantine

Cause this is where my life is at, apparently. I thought I escaped the “quarantine fever writing” that everyone else got. Apparently I was wrong. 

After another visit to the castle, the Thompson’s end up there in quarantine once miss rona hits the world. Thank god for WI-FI and working remotely, even if his parents look vaguely like zombies due to time zone differences. Tony can’t talk, his online schooling schedule is all sorts of weird and he’s pretty sure his teacher just wants to sleep until the whole thing is over. Honestly Tony can’t say he blames her. 

The Sackville-bagg clan, as it turns out, is a surprisingly overprotective bunch when they need to be, especially now that they have accepted their humans into the fold. Even with catching up on modern medicine and germ theory, they won’t allow anything to happen to their precious humans. 

(AU/headcanons incoming??

Rudy/Tony: 

- Think Rudy was protective before? Think again. 

- Rudy is over 300 years old, he’s old by human standards and he has met people who are old by vampire standards. He’s seen Things(TM) ok?

- He has been through more than one plague in his life. He has seen what it can do to the sick and the poor. He knows it’s a different now, that life-saving machines exist, that they’re working on a vaccine, that soap is widely available. 

- But he also knows it’s not. 

- Tony? Not going anywhere as far as he is concerned. Say hello to your prince, Rapunzel, cause Rudy is keeping Tony up in that tower if it kills him (again). 

- He knows where all of Tony’s masks are, and where he puts the extras. 

- He’ even shops online for masks with Tony, finding cool hand-sewn, gothic looking ones for Rudy himself to wear. He’s not sure if Corona even effects vampires, but Tony likes finding stuff to match his “aesthetic’ and it keeps his mortal happy. 

- He waits on his mortal hand and foot in between videogames and watching Netflix. (Tony likes How to Train Your Dragon and Paranorman, Rudy likes The Little Prince and Kubo and the Two Strings.). 

- Rudy’s first introduction to Tumblr is through Tony, and at one point they reach the Plague Doctor Aesthetics. While Rudy hasn’t spent much time in Italy, he doesn’t think they’re very accurate, and complains as such to his mortal. 

- Rudy is surprisingly easily offended about historically inaccurate things, and it sends Tony into laughing fits. 

- Rudy is Bad At Memes. Like, just in general he doesn’t always get them, and when Corona Memes become a thing he’s just constantly confused. Poor Rudy honestly. 

- Tries to learn to cook healthy human food, except he hasn’t had any major kitchen experience in 200-odd years and it comes out as a disaster the first few times he tries it. 

- It turns into a teaching session between him and the other adult humans, turns out the old couple who owns the castle like to feed people. Rudy walks into Tony’s room with a tray piled so high Tony can’t see his head. 

-Always offering to fly around the castle to get things for Tony, even if he isn’t sick. 

- TikTok dances. Tony shows him, then teaches him. Rudy is shockingly good at them, but Gregory thinks he’s cringy. 

Gregory: 

(Not me flexing my love of the good big brother trope, absolutely not, nope)

- Surprisingly rather take charge about the whole thing, he’s come around to the Thompson’s and the old couple. 

- While his parents help when they can, they sort of take a step back, and let the three siblings explain what’s happening in the world to the clan (if they are there). Being the oldest, Gregory sort of defaults to being the leader. 

-Checks in with the Thompson’s, as well as Otto and Emma (The old couple who run the place.) Asks if they need anything while they work/are in school etc. 

- Warns the clan to be very careful when visiting, not just for the Thompson’s, but also because Otto and Emma are getting on in years and could become sick very easily. Always asks for a heads up before a family visit. 

- Won’t tell anyone but, late at night if he’s not busy, he’ll do things around the castle for the humans, especially upkeep for Otto and Emma, while they sleep. 

- Dusting hard to reach spots like chandeliers, organizing books in the old castle library, moving heavy furniture and stuff since he can fly. 

-Low key drags Rudy and Anna into helping him clean 

(”But Gregory, this is our home now too! I’m sure they don’t mind.” 

“Humans are fragile, and they’re letting us stay here out of kindness, so don’t be rude. Clean up after yourself little brother.” 

“He’s right you know.” 

“Of course I am. And don’t think you’re getting out of cleaning the rafters Anna, and stop leaving your books everywhere for them to pick up.” 

 ‘hmph.” )

- Of the vampires he’s lowkey the best at cooking human food. Tony, Rudy, and Anna just walk into the kitchen at night and Fredrick is just watching his eldest, genuinely amused, as he dances around the kitchen in a “Kill the Cook (Too late, I’m already dead)” apron, blasting out dad rock from the stereo. 

-Bonds with the Thompsons over cooking human food, especially Tony’s dad after he teaches Gregory what an “air guitar” move is. 

-Gregory discovers pinterest food aesthetics, and is a machine of baking, mixing, and decorating sweet candies/cakes/brownies. He wants his food to look pretty dang it. 

- Anna and Rudy just watch, silently judging him. 

Anna: 

- She’s just thriving tbh. 

- She has internet access now, and her brothers have never been more terrified. 

-If Gregory is the vampire equivalent of a pinterest mommy, Anna is the vampire equivalent of creepy diy aesthetic tiktokers. 

-Not like, bloody horror diy, but like, the subtly creepy but still sweet kind, like the Addams family or Coraline. 

- She learned needle arts with her mom, so she’s out here sewing Coraline dolls, or patchwork dresses a la Nightmare Before Christmas cause she CAN. 

-Makes her own handbag with those felt cartoonish vampire faces and big fake bat ears on the side. 

-Learns more modern patterns and stuff, but will make masks for the humans as gifts, cause she doesn’t want them to get sick. 

- After watching Coraline together, she made “Other Me” dolls of her brothers, button eyes included, and stuck them in their coffins. She would make them “move’ by flying them around to different rooms when her brothers weren’t looking, just to freak them out. 

- Spoiler alert: it worked. They ran to Tony for help and she laughed over it for days. 

- Anna loves adventure books to Rudy’s poetry and Gregory’s fables/folk tales. She hates being excluded from her brothers “adventures”. 

-Tony introduces her to comics and video games and she just lives her best life. 

-One of her favorite comic book character is Cassandra Cain/Blackbat/The Orphan.

- She loves books like Matilda, The Chronicles of Narnia, and The Giver, as well as games like the Lara Croft/Tomb Raider series. 

-VICIOUS at video games, this girl has no mercy, she will blue shell you so hard. 

The Adults: 

-Life is Hard(TM) right now, but the Thompson’s try to make the best of it. They’re very grateful to Otto and Emma for letting them stay. 

-They’re both working remotely, so they’re a little messed up sleep schedule wise. But that’s ok, their vampire friends don’t seem to mind. 

- Freda teaches Dottie how to make proper tea, cause she likes it and Dottie is sort of addicted to caffeine. Dottie teaches Freda how to make mochas and smoothies, Dottie likes mango-pineapple smoothies and Freda likes hot white chocolate mochas with cinnamon. 

-Surprisingly, Frederick and Bob become pretty good friends. Frederick understands the stress of having to care for your family in very uncertain times, and the two men bond over unsure parental decisions. 

-Bob is also surprisingly good at making Frederick loosen up, much to Freda and Dottie’s amusement. While initially awkward, they have a surprisingly snarky and sarcastic sort of friendship. Frederick deadpans insults at him and Bob cheerfully annoys him into Being Nice For Once while being completely aware of the fact that he’s annoying Frederick. 

-Meals where Bob cooks often consists of him singing oldies into his spatula, making bad impression of certain singers, including Elvis and Cher. He is occasionally joined by Tony and Gregory, making the entire family laugh. 

- Anna’s bones may be old, but she can hand sew like a goddess, and has occasionally taken to fixing up the kids’ torn clothes, as Dottie can barely keep straight lines and Freda prefers knitting. 

- Someone (read: Freda) mentions that Frederick can play the cello, and after a rousing performance, it turns out that Otto can play an accordion, and of course Bob can play the guitar. A jam session occurs as the kids just stare in utter bewilderment.

- Tony’s grandparents were kinda hippies, so Bob and Dottie know a lot of oldies and folk songs, which while different than from what they normally hear, Otto and Anna connect too. They swap songs back and forth, and it turns out Dottie can do a mean Loretta lynn impression. 

- Dottie likes the Beach Boys, and teaches the others how to Twist. As in, the dance, and Freda actually likes it quite a bit. 

[taliaquinn]

Why Me!? Chapter 10

"I am finally putting in my withdrawal"

“From Bustiers?” Max asked. Although somehow a small part of him knew what was about to happen. 

“From Francis Dupont,” She said, although with a bit of a smile.

Marinette finally felt happy. She was going to leave a Toxic environment, and for once she didn't give a crap about who it might hurt. What people didn't know was that in-between leaving Damocles Office, she left to go to the bathroom. Honestly, she was fully prepared to cry. However mid-sob she got a call, From Gotham. 

She quickly answered through teary eyes, not realizing she left facetime on.

“ Mari I Can't wait for you to come to you won't believe it, Bruce is going to take some time off, Cass has been a whirlwind making sure to have everything ready, Oh boy Jason and Tim are excited to meet you, Damian is excited to have a sibling to which he can teach proper Swordsmanship, and Alfred has been fussing over everything and everyone.’’ Dick was rambling while shoveling in spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth, Not even noticing he was face timing. It was amusing to Marinette. 

“Oh and Bludhav- hang on were you Crying!?” Dick suddenly seemed to notice a red-eyed Marinette. 

“Actually no I was just about to start” 

“About to start??? Huh? Maribug what’s going on?” Marinette couldn't help but flinch slightly at her new nickname. Seriously if only they knew about her extracurricular activities. She’ll be seen as such a weirdo.

“I just withdrew from my school after I got accused of assaulting someone again and honestly I’m s-so FED UP!!!! Honestly, I put in 100% in making sure the class is great and fun. Everyone has what they need. We are always the highest-ranking kids' grades wise because of me. But I can’t even say anything or else I'm being too greedy, or too narcissist or too selfish” She finally unleashed everything.

Dick seemed to be quiet and was just staring at her as she rambled. Finally, he let out a sigh god this sibling he’s only known for a bit and she's already rambling about her issues. Thank God. He couldn’t deal with another family member that liked to hide their feelings. This was his chance. 

“Maribug Listen that school honestly sounds like a sh*thole and you need to get out. The sooner the better. You know that you’re at risk right” He was a Police Officer, he knew that situations like this often ended with those who suffered from abuse blowing up. In the Worst Ways.

He decided to continue. He had a plan.

“Look ya need some perspective, some space. You’re coming to Gotham? And you’re Parents are withdrawing you from School already, by the way, excellent parenting, so you’re essentially schoolless. Why don't you apply for school here? You could go to school here for a semester and then figure out everything else.” He finally asked.

Wait a minute. That was a great idea. Ten times better than her original plan of just going home and crying while shoveling pastries and ice cream into her face. She hoped to get hopefully accepted into online Highschool. School In Gotham would be a nice change. School and Life in America would be another chance. She’ll get to learn more about her Father's family. Maman and Papa would finally be able to see another possible location to possibly open a new bakery.

“That sounds so Great you have no idea.” She said with a slight smirk.

As soon as she announced her withdrawal there was an immediate uproar. Most of the screaming came from Chloe, and Marinette couldn’t help but feel touched by how much Chloe cared. 

“ DUPAIN-CHENG YOU CAN’T ABANDON US WITH THESE IDIOTS!!!” Chloe shouted. 

All of a sudden Adrien stood up and went to grab her by the arm and drag her out. But shockingly Marinette dug in her heels and shoved his hand away. 

“No I am not going to hide away, I am going to stand here and you guys are going to Listen,” She said while staring at Adrien in the eyes. Lila for once seemed to be quiet. She was so interested in this. For once she wanted to see the outcome without her manipulation. 

“Fine” Adrien moved to sit back in Marinette's old seat. 

“I am going leave School, Right now I'm planning to enroll in a school at Gotham”

“Gotham as in crime-ridden, dirty and dark Gotham City?” Adrien asked incredulously. 

Okay, Marinette needed to do more research on Gotham City….Dick would help her get by. Hopefully. Maybe Damian had a point when he was forcing her to learn how to punch. She's been relying way too much on her magic. She wasn’t exactly bad at fighting, she was just inexperienced. Luckily Damian decided to be helpful, mean but helpful nonetheless. 

“Yes precisely that Gotham” Maybe she should have picked a Boarding school. Oh Well. Too late for regrets now.

“OH MY GOSH!? GOTHAM HAS BATMAN!!!” Alya suddenly jumped up and yelled.

“Since The Waynes suddenly left before Lila could get me an interview, You could act as my correspondent in Gotham,” She said excitedly.

“Are you kidding me no way.” Marinette spat out. Was this girl demented?

“You and Lila are both setting me up for expulsion, you released a video expecting me to get backlash-which backfired horribly by the way- and now you have the nerve to ask for my help?” Marinette seethed, upset and annoyed. Gosh, she’ll take Gotham Crazies over these Lunatics any day, at least those she would be allowed to punch. Without repercussions anyway.

“What video are you talking about Marinette?” Chloe asked because of course, that's what she focuses on.  

“The video on the Ladyblog” Max finally stated because he likes to keep track of information.

“ oh that explains why I didn’t know, I quit reading that trashy tabloid a loooong time ago”

“WHAT Bourgeois you better take it back, The Ladyblog is respected and adored”

“You're kidding, right? Please traffic on your blog has slowed ever since Aurore released her blog which is ten times better. Did you hear? Lois Lane from the Daily Planet, a very respected newspaper in America,  loved her blog and even gave her advice” Chloe taunted.

Alya was pissed. Ever since Aurore released her blog she has stolen a bunch of her audience. Honestly, her blog was losing so much traffic to Aurores since she had an endorsement from Killer Bee. 

Alya, of course, got an invitation to go to the Journalist banquet but she wasn’t allowed to take a plus one. Which of course was devastating to Lila since she couldn't go and see Damian Wayne. Poor Lila quietly told her how sorry she was since that meant she wouldn't be able to get Alya the interview. 

Of course, Alya being Alya tried to get sneak Lila in however they soon saw another girl who was trying to get in as well. However she had an invite, and Lila needed it. Lila however quickly pointed something out. 

“Alya can you believe what she’s wearing and oh go is she trying to come off as a junior reporter for some trashy tabloid, hmmm seems like someone more else deserves it more” Lila softly stated.  Of course, Lila was right, someone else deserved it. And Alya needed that interview.

Quickly Alya pulled Lila along towards the girl who was taking out her pass. 

“Excuse me, I’m sorry but I seriously need that Press Pass” Alya stated. Alyas' back was turned, so she couldn’t see Lilas growing smirk.  

The girl was slightly startled however she noticed that the red-haired girl with glasses already HAD a press pass, why would she need it? Of course, she couldn’t just SAY that. “W-why would you need it if yo-you a-already h-ha-have one?” she managed to stutter out while tightening her grip on the press pass around her neck.

“BECAUSE my friend over here was denied one, even though her boyfriend is going to be in there so please just give it to us so I can get my interview” Alya snapped she was honestly losing her patience.

“I-uh No Way it’s mi- '' Quickly as a flash, Alya leaped forward and snatched the pass straight from the girl's neck. Of course, the girl leaped forward to try and take it back. Alya, however, stepped back and roughly shoved the girl back who promptly fell back and landed on her behind, ripping the girl's skirt and tearing her suit jacket. 

Alya quickly handed the pass to Lila, who walked up behind her to take it. “You should have learned how to fight back better” Lila sneered towards the now tearful girl. Alya looped her arm around her and dragged her towards the entrance. Unfortunately for the security personnel witnessed the incident and refused to allow them entrance and were about to go check up on the girl. However, it was too late. 

“Yes Hawkmoth”

They all heard it coming from where the girl previously was.

That was one of the few times she caused an Akuma, unfortunately, they had to run after the girl was akumatized. Lila, unfortunately, had to leave due to her mother worrying. Luckily Adrien was gracious enough to grant her an interview, but he was distracted and jittery throughout the interview, a huge boom from far away caught his attention and he mumbled a quick apology and dashed off. Alya was desperate for more gossip and intel so she followed him but unfortunately lost him. Luckily she caught an argument between her ex-friend and Chat Noir. The outfit was beautiful and eye-catching, however, Alya only got angrier because that meant Marinette was allowed entrance.

Alya with the sudden realization snapped her head and glared in Marinette's Direction. 

“Why were you even allowed in?” Alya snapped. 

“Because I Designed and Made Nadia Chamacks Dress” Marinette Snapped back allowing a bit of pride to seep into the words

“Marinette Sweetheart it's time to go, we have to go and pick up your luggage before dropping your luggage,” Sabine said while standing in the doorway of the classroom. Sabine had her head turned towards Marinette, she quickly stepped out but quickly directed a glare at Madame Bustier. 

Suddenly Chloe surged forward along with Juleka towards Marinette. Chloe quickly latched to Marinette. “ MARINETTE PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU TAKE ME TO THE STATES WITH YOU IF YOU LEAVE ME HERE WITH THESE IDIOTS I MIGHT AS WELL SAY ADIOS TO MY SANITY RIGHT NOW” Chloe wailed while still clutching to Marinette. Marinette felt bad but hey what could you do?

Juleka quickly stepped forwards and struggled to yank Chloe away from Marinette eventually needing Max to Help. Finally, with a Final tug, Marinette was released from Chloes clutches.

“Don’t Worry I’ll take care of her and keep her from committing homicide” Sabrina stated.

Marinette quickly had a few words with them. With a final Group Hug which consisted of Juleka, Max, Sabrina, Ivan, and Chloe. Chloe still had Marinette in her clutches for a few seconds afterward. With a sigh Marinette freed herself. 

She turned towards the “Lila Side” however looking at them with slight disdain. Keeping eye contact with Lila she finally said whats she's been wanting to say from the day she met Lila.

“Goodbye”

Tag List:

 @amayakans​ @depthfire

[anon-e-miss]

Ooo! For the prompts what about "Oh look, it's alive." (If it hasn't been done already)

“Oh look, it’s alive.”

Prowl felt the tip of a ped nudge his side.He did not move. Let the think he as incapacitated and when the moment was right he would make his move. His frame ached, unsurprisingly. The blow to his helm had not corrupted his memory. He had fallen. The ground beneath him had opened up and he had fallen down and down. Everything hurt but there was no agony, Prowl hoped this meant his doorwings had been spared. For the second time in a mega-cycle Prowl felt servos that were not his own rooting through his subspace.

“Ric, if ya don’t get yer servos off o’m y’re gonna lose’em.”

“Jazz? What the fraggin’ Pit are ya doin’ here?”

“Got into trouble in Darkmount. Now ‘m tryin’ to get back to Iacon. Figured I’d stop in at the shop since the fragger broke my visor.”

“This fragger?“

“No! Now back off. Ya know ya could actually tell me when ya go plantin’ new traps.”

“Cons have been sniffin’ ‘bout more. Tryin’ to give’em the impression this is just a real tricky cave, ‘n not worth their trouble.”

“Staniz is playin’ a dangerous game.”

“Aren’t we all?”

The invading servos pulled away and were replaced by Jazz’s. He did not probe about Prowl’s subspace but checked him for damage. Prowl onlined his optics. For a moment he was afraid he was blind as he saw nothing but blackness but Jazz leaned over his face. Those white optics glowed, the only light in the darkness. It was eerie. Their glow was bright enough that Prowl could see Jazz’s mouth turn up in a smile.

“Ya a’ight, Prowl?”

“I believe so.”

Jazz helped him to his peds. Prowl tested his doorwings and was relieved to find they were intact. His optics saw only darkness but when he softly clicked his glossa, Prowl’s doorwings saw a little more, and as the echo faded Prowl began to commit the shape of the cave to his memory. It was imperfect. Echolocation was not in the curriculum of the enforcers. Prowl had learned it from his originator, just as he had learned to break out of stasis cuffs.

“My ‘creators’ll have a medkit ‘n we can see to all these dents. Lucky ya didn’t fall on yer back.”

“It was not luck,” Prowl replied. “I turned.”

“Clever. Ya’ve spent more time studyin’ Circuit-Su than I thought.”

“I am out of practice.”

“Maybe we can work on that.”

That would be good. Prowl had not trained with a partner since he and Tumbler had parted ways. He did not trust. His procreators had taught them the importance of this. They had been right. Every time he had trusted someone it had been a disaster. But sparring with Jazz did not require real trust. He was not taking the mech into his berth or into his spark. As he walked alone, with Jazz’s arm around his waist, Prowl ached, and right knee creaked. Prowl felt sticky liquid leak between the gaps in his armour.

“What’re yer levels like?”

“40%. I have a leak in my leg. I have diverted the flow.”

“I hope ya don’t expected me to apologize,” Ric said. His red visor glowed eerily in the darkness. Did they always wear them? Even when they were in their natural environment.

“No,” Prowl replied.

“Yes,” Jazz said. Ric snorted. There was no apology.

The tight passages opened up into a great cavern and it glowed under the soft light of thousands of crystals. It was still too dark for Prowl to see clearly, but it was more like the dark-cycle than total darkness. They passed mechanisms, some wearing visors like the one Jazz generally wore. Those that did not stared at them with white optics. Stared at him, Prowl thought. More than Jazz or Ric. No one troubled them. He supposed that was a blessing. They came to a row of habsuites carved out of the rock, Ric started up the stares. Prowl was not thrilled, but he followed. Jazz did not give him much of an option. At the top of the long staircase, Ricochet held the door. As Jazz ushered Prowl through, three mechs stood up.

“Jazz!” The tallest of the three was mostly yellow, at least Prowl thought he was. The light was dim. “What trouble have ya drug up now?“

“Just a friend. Got me outta Darkmount, then he got caught in one o’ Ricochet’s traps.”

“Your brother and Geni have been digging like a couple Dwellers the last few weeks. At least they have added the acid bath yet.”

“Pit’s sake,” Jazz grumbled. “Worn me before ya set up lethal traps, would ya?”

“Sit’m down ‘n introduce me. We’ll see if we gotta bring Fixit in.”

“Thanks, Ori. Is Geni ‘round. The fragger took my visor before he got distracted.”

“Ric, why don’t ya find yer genitors. Neither o’em would be happy if they missed Jazz.”

“Sure.”

Prowl sat quietly as the kinsmech spoke around him. He heard them speak, but did not follow the conversation. As often happened, he was distracted by his own thoughts. If the Decepticons actually knew Staniz existed under the desert, not so far from Darkmount, the underground village would have been blown to the pit. They would not need to enter the village, or even properly locate it. As long as the coordinates were anywhere close they need only drop one of the bombs they had dropped on Praxus to obliterate the caves and everything and everyone in them. Were there other communities like this, hidden underground, living out of sight as Autobots and Decepticons tore Cybertron apart over their helms.

“He’s burnin’ up.” A servo touch his helm, feeling almost shockingly cool. Prowl brought his optics back into focus. It was not Jazz, it was... his originator.

“He’s been burning through coolant. Prowl what’re yer levels at.”

“30%.”

“Ya burned or leaked out 10% in half a joor. Ori, mind if I raid your stores?”

“Have at it. Prowl? ‘M gonna open up yer leg ‘n see where the leak is.”

“I appreciate your assistance.”

“Ya got manners. Jazz must drive ya crazy.”

“He puts a concerted effort into it.”

“Ha!” Jazz replied. “Two cubes, Prowl. Drink’em ‘n we’ll see where that puts ya.”

“Put a cold compress on his helm too. I think that’s where the trouble really is.”

“Ya think he’s got a leak in his helm? Frag!”

“No. I think he’s got a glitch givin’m some grief.”

“A glitch? Prowl?”

“I will not crash,” Prowl said, feeling defensive. They called him a glitch and a drone. These were just insults, they did not really know. Not even Ratchet knew. Jazz laid a compress over Prowl’s helm and sat down next to him. He helped Prowl drink the coolant.

“If ya do, ya do. We’re safe enough. How ‘n the fraggin’ Pit did I not know you had a glitch.”

“I don’t imagine anyone knows, do they, Prowl?” Punch said. His tone was gentle, so were his digits as he probed Prowl’s knee.

“No.”

"Not even Ratchet?” Jazz asked.

“No.”

“He’s gonna have yer platin’.”

“I found the leak,” Punch said, Prowl scarcely nodded, not wanting to disturb the cool cloth, it was a considerable relief. “I can patch it. Just relax.”

“Ratchet does not need to know,” Prowl said. It sounded too much like a plea to Prowl’s own audios. Even if that was what it was.

“Don’t ya need maintenance sometimes?”

“I manage.”

“Ya know it ain’t a big deal, Prowl. Red’s got a glitch ‘n no one cares.”

“It’s an old habit, ain’t it Prowl?” Punch asked. “Hidin’. Ya emerge wit it?”

“Yes.”

“Yer procreators knew.”

“They discovered it when I was a newling.”

“They must o’ been scared.”

“The assassinated the medic who made the diagnosis before he could report it to Central Health.”

“Hold up,” Jazz said. “Why’d they go that far?”

“Praxus had laws, Jazz,” Punch explained. Prowl wondered how he knew. “No matter the age if a defect was uncovered, they were ‘sposed to be reported to the state to be “managed”. Sometimes managed meant euthanasia, sometimes it meant repairs, or mnemosurgery.”

“The nature of my glitch would have required my processor all but be replaced in its entirety. My procreators could not tolerate the thought. They hid my defect well. I was home schooled, and trained to manage my glitch. I did well. Until I crashed during an enforcer exercise and my partner reported me to the CH. We were all arrested. I was detained in an CH facility to be “corrected”. My procreators broke me out and got me to Rodion. They went back for my brother but they were recaptured.”

“‘M sorry,” Jazz said. “When ya said not all cultures criminalize defects, ya were speakin’ bout yer past. He did not know.”

“Not then. I refused to allow him to perform mnemosurgery on me. He believed I could be fixed. He was angry I was too prideful to allow it.”

“Ya don’t need to be fixed. In Rodion ‘n Iacon they’d say I outta replace my optics wit standard issue blue ones so I would need to worry ‘bout visors. ‘M not effectively blind because my optics are bad. ‘M effectively blind ‘cause my optics are too good. ‘M thinkin’ yer processor’s the same.”

“That is an adapt comparison.”

“Let’s test yer knee,” Punch said. Prowl bent and straightened it as ordered. “Good. Give’m another cube o’ coolant. Just be safe. That’s how ya stop yerself from crashin’ too much, ain’t it. Ya go through coolant.”

“An obscene amount. I pay out of my own account. I am not stealing from the Autobots...”

“Takin’ what ya need to function ain’t stealin’. Ya ‘n me’ll see Ratchet when we get back. Maybe ya outta get some medgrade added to yer rations. I know Red does.”

“Okay.”

Prowl did not know why he wanted to cry. No. That was not true, he knew exactly why. He was utterly overwhelmed and utterly exhausted and having anyone care even this much was more comfort that he had been allowed in vorns and vorns. Since Praxus had been destroyed, Prowl had wondered what had become of his procreators, he had not felt the bonds break. Now he knew, and there was no peace knowing, only helplessness and guilt.

“I suppose yer procreators didn’t make it out,” Jazz said, softly as he placed another cube of coolant into Prowl’s servos.”

“Barricade broke them out before the bombing. They are detained. He could not convince them to enlist. He has kept them prisoner all this time. That was why he wanted me to defect. He thought that was the push that they would need.”

“Fraggin’ aft,” Jazz hissed. “He didn’t tell ya where?”

“No.”

“No matter. We’ll figure it out. ‘N we’ll spring them ourselves.”

[leam1983]

Felix the Reaper - Thoughts? Review?

Can't really go into too much detail, it's rather late as it is and the ol' bed is beckoning, but I also want to couch this down somewhere while it's still fresh...

So, Death as a concept - as a character - obviously permeates the whole of human civilization. You've got Anubis and Osiris, Humbaba the Undying, thousands of years of mythology surrounding the concept of life leaving you and your flesh-bits rotting, generation after generation of people processing grief in visual and abstract forms - and now, we're sort of living in a context where Death isn't really all that scary anymore. We understand it, we can push it back in some cases - and when we can't, then we can sort of map out its occurrence. What started as just this inexplicable force swiping at hunter-gatherers and that warranted Danse Macabre paintings across Medieval France is now something we can put an almost-precise date and time on. There's a bunch of "death clocks" online that project a potential DOD based on your age, gender, health status, habits and BMI; sort of turning the concept of memento mori into a shockingly literate manifestation.

You will die, one day. We're so aware of that that a bit of science and Web design wizardry can shit out a half-serious guesstimation of when it'll happen. Pre-Colonial aspects of Death survive in Mexican culture in the forms of both calaveras and the Santa Muerte cult, and the inevitability of death now even counts as a game mechanic in the SoulsBorne genre. You've got Terry Pratchett's extremely Humanist rendition of Death and, well, Hollywood faff à la Meet Joe Black. The short of it is we're far from the robe-wearing zombie we used to plop everywhere as a reminder of our own supposedly sinful urges or on the fleeting nature of youth.

Another item that's of interest is the notion of life and youth being represented as the Maiden - and of Death being in love with her. Sometimes, the affection isn't returned and disgust is shown. That's most of Holbein's death-related works, in this case. In others, the Maiden leans in, lets the skeletal figure push a hand underneath her skirt and against one of her thighs. They share a kiss, press against one another in the way honest lovers might. He's a dried-out corpse with a bloated midsection and she might've stepped out of some sixteenth-century church in the Netherlands, but their liplock is intense and genuine. In one statue, the Maiden looks like she might've just surrendered to the Reaper's arms, but her hands are also touching his scythe....

Eroticism, a commentary on suicide or plain acceptance - there's several ways to look at that duality, and it's even managed to worm its way over to cultures that don't natively have similar associations with human remains. The Japanese, for instance, do have their own Gashadokuro concept, but the locals of Nagasaki needed their initially-exclusive exposure to Portuguese traders to shrink down their massive skeletal eidolons of doom and to design woodblock prints where a Danse Macabre effectively meets the dress codes and habits of the locals under sakoku, or the Emperor-mandated closing-off of Japan to the outside world.

Death as a dancer. Death, especially, as a force that's quite lively, despite its attributes. A force that falls head-over-heels for Life in its own anthropomorphized form.

This is what Danish devs Kong Orange opted to work on in Felix the Reaper. Their Death has a human name, has a thing for the stuffier ends of Business Casual, is maybe eighty pounds overweight - and won't ever, ever, let the music die. He's also in love, obviously - and in love with Betty, the equally portly and nimble personification of Life. The pair look a bit like a Fernando Botero couple waiting to happen, with ample waists and sagging breasts held aloft by spindle-thin legs - but if Ghostbusters taught us not to cross the streams, then you can assume that Life and Death starting a tango in the same workspace could have severe coincidences on the biosphere. Not that Felix cares, he'd want nothing more than for Betty to notice him. His supervisor is voiced off-camera by Sir Patrick Stewart, who's as delightful as always, and who sort of plays the part of the well-meaning supervisor who eventually realizes his new employee's quirks don't diminish his potential.

And what is Felix's job, exactly? Well, he's Death. He's not getting paid to distribute hugs and kisses, obviously. He gets sent to the mortal plane to, well, kill people, and more specifically, to kill people in precise and pre-ordained ways. His "televator" takes him to an instant frozen in time, and he has to alter the surrounding scene so that once time resumes its course, the requisite accident or happenstance occurs. You do that by picking up items, flicking switches, and placing targets in the path of whatever it is that's set to kill them. You also move the sun around the world using a magical sundial doohickey, as Death can only move in shadows. You're basically Death in the same sense as in the Final Destination movies, except you really, really, really want to twerk and sashay your voluminous heinie through the small changes needed to turn a nothing-burger into a drunk huntsman getting his head stuck in the stump of a decapitated deer, so the dejected and near-sighted hunter you've been following mistakes him for a target and shoots his spear through his brain-case.

And yes, Felix does twerk and he certainly sashays. Dude dresses like a stuffy librarian, sure, but seemingly loses all inhibitions once his headphones come up - which allows the player to share in his personal soundtrack. This particular Reaper seems to have a thing for very bass-driven and samply EDM, with occasional forays into Ambient and Jazz. His many, many, many idle animations all sync with whatever it is that's playing, and so does the variety of prances, somersaults, grands jetés and twirls he goes through while moving from place to place. Comparatively, you get the sense that Felix's coworkers are more the dour and solemn type - with a few unsubtle cameos from Skeletor and Manny Calavera in the opening cinematic - and Felix, well...

Let's just say it's a wonder he has those hips and that paunch. If he twirls around for every little thing he does, then you'd assume he only sits down to hoover an Olympic athlete's worth of food once a day. Or maybe I'm overthinking things because, well, death.

And therein lies the problem, honestly. In thinking, I mean. Felix is a puzzle game through-and-through, and also ties into a Challenge system in order to really tickle those completionist nerves. The starting scenarios are braindead-easy, but the later ones left me stumped for fifteen minutes per screen. Add to that the notion that the game doesn't check off some of them as complete if you only do the bare essentials, and you're left with another would-be mobile offering that doesn't reach its endpoint until you exhaust every little bit it has to offer - even if you're effectively done with the main gameplay loop. It's a great game, but there's just not a whole lot to do in those six chapters, beyond repeating bits of drudgery until your noodle clicks or you give up and look up a solution online.

It's a shame, too. The isometric perspective is perfect, and the game could've been pitched as a hybrid between a puzzler and, say, XCOM: Enemy Unknown. You'd take cover to hide from moving targets or to escape daylight and instead of shooting at them, would emerge from cover to move items around or solve puzzle elements. You could've had Death evoke the illusion of a friendly face to inject some more concrete narrative delivery, for instance. Steal a friend's features, magically conceal yourself, and then have your target piece her own weaknesses together, leaving you to retreat and regroup before executing your plan of attack. But no, everything is out in the open and everything is spelled out for you. Kong Orange could've also stolen a page from Hitman Go and set multiple triggers in place to truly sandbox the experience.

What is there is fun - it oozes personality and charm - but there's just not enough of it to justify Steam's full asking price, IMO. Comparatively, the Switch's online store is currently running a sale for it (as of Sunday the 15th, at least) and lists it as being 2,15$. Two bucks for a few hours of harmless fun is a pretty good deal, as far as I'm concerned. It also underlines why the devs and Daedalic Entertainment alike consider it as having "bombed", as the marketing effectively targeted Devolver's usual stable. It's not crunchy enough, however, and not exactly irreverent enough to warrant that comparison. A more hefty Felix could've earned its full 20$ price point on PC - and Kong Orange's very design for Betty makes it obvious that if Felix ever returns, it'll be in a co-op setup with the love of his, well, unlife.

I'd be up for more of this cuddly, swinging skelly - assuming the devs mature a tad and put something together that's just a smidge more compelling.

[magpiemorality]

Bring It On, Moceit/Moremus, 5/5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  AO3

We’re here; the final part. The happy ending, hopefully… 

Huge thanks to @littlestr​ for the original prompts! And thank you all for following along with this fun weekend jaunt, I have come to adore these boys and they’ve outgrown the little prompt oneshot they were supposed to exist in, constantly yelling at me for more attention until now we’re here. There’s even art HERE by @sometimeswritingsometimesdying go look at it!!!! 

Without further ado; please enjoy.

Warnings: dismissal of polyamory (character doesn’t believe it’s real/feasible), swearing 

Patton Sanders was the prettiest boy in the whole college...

***

Patton Sanders was the prettiest boy in the whole college. He wasn’t being vain or anything; there had once been an online poll on the college gossip blog and he’d won hands down. It was just fact at this point. 

He was also currently (in his own internal poll) the saddest. Everything had been going so great (shut up Remy it had) and then it had taken a turn towards the endgame and then- 

Well, what had happened with Remus? Patton still wasn’t sure, and Remus was ignoring his texts so he had no clues to go on apart from the fact that one minute the boy was giving him some very upmarket salmon filets and pulling off a classing hair-behind-the-ear move that would have possibly even led to a kiss- and then nothing. Remus had suddenly… changed his mind? He’d freaked out for some reason anyway, and had just run off. 

Since then nothing, nada, total radio silence (yeah so it had only been two days so what Remy shh) and Patton was falling into despair. There had to have been a vital signal he’d missed somewhere that would have turned the whole thing around. 

Maybe the fish was a clue? 

He and Remy had spent a full evening poring over the fish. Was it a secret message? Symbolic in some way? Was there something written on it? Patton had drawn the line at trying to open it up and check the inside because he still very much wanted to save it to cook for Remus some day, so it had been rehomed in the freezer after a careful perusal of storage methods on Google. 

And there was a whole other problem now too- Dex was avoiding him. Over text, on campus, in the cafe; everywhere Patton could think of to try and run into his second paramour turned out to be a bust, and the only way (again, two days was ages Remy don’t be a bitch) he could have avoided even accidentally bumping into Dex for that long was if the other boy was actively staying away. 

Those texts went unanswered too. 

(Remy was starting to lose patience.)

“But I just don’t-”

“Oh my god gurl please don’t finish that sentence!” Patton’s very best friend and emotional support gay snapped, slamming his Starbucks cup down on the table (situated outside the cafe, so they could be seen by as many people as possible, of course). “I literally can not with you.”

Patton’s nose wrinkled. “My tutor Logan says we shouldn’t say literally when it’s not grammatically accurate.” 

“Your tutor Logan can literally suck my dick. No seriously; he’s hot, get me his number and I will consider literally forgiving you.” 

“But-”

“Baby, sugarplum, Patty-cake- for the love of all things caffeine; just take a chill pill okay? Boys will come and go in your life and if they’re worth anything at all then they’ll be back. Besides, they’re probably just duking it out over you somewhere. Maybe shirtless. Maybe there’s baby oil…” Remy trailed off with unfocused eyes, sipping his drink absently and Patton sighed, because even that nice (very nice, saved for later) image not enough to dispel his melancholy. 

He checked his phone again for the millionth time that day. Spring break was coming up and the cheer squad Whatsapp was going wild with anticipation, but Patton wasn’t in the mood. He’d foolishly hoped that one of his handsome men was going to sweep him off his feet and away to somewhere spectacular for the holiday, but that hope had tanked dramatically in light of recent developments. Normally that would’ve just made him shift his hopes towards prom, but it wasn’t enough of a big deal as it had always been in high school, and it was really more of a friends’ night out situation. Not the sort of time to be expecting big dramatic declarations of love, you know or whatever. 

No, the universe seemed to be spelling out ‘Patton Sanders is going to die alone’ pretty hard, even if Remy wasn’t in agreement. 

“Who are you texting, anyway?” Patton asked, picking at his nail polish with a pout. “Let me at least live vicariously through you until I waste away, a tragic damsel whose beauty was lost to time…" 

Remy looked up, talking around the straw in his mouth. “Jesus you’ve got it bad. And it’s none of your business, P, I’ll tell you when you aren’t moping.” The way Patton visibly and genuinely sagged seemed to revive Remy’s best friend sympathy instincts, because he quickly finished his drink, took Patton by the hands and pulled him up. “Come on cupcake, it’s the weekend and we’re going shopping. Because no matter what happens with your boys- it’s nearly Spring Break and we are gonna look hot to trot!” 

And who was Patton to disagree with such flawless logic? 

***

Maybe there was something to be said for the mystical powers of retail therapy, because when Patton flopped down on his bed that evening there was a text notification from a blocked number on his phone that made his heart beat wildly. 

It contained an invitation, to meet the following weekend at a destination that would be sent in a future text, and it was signed ‘from your not-so-secret admirer’. 

The week went by horribly slowly. Even practice seemed to drag, and yet… 

Suddenly Dex was meeting him every day with his tea again, no word of explanation but a soft smirk always hovering around his lips, lighting up his usually serious face. 

Suddenly Remus was watching and winking at him from across the gym- not approaching this time round but offering little shy waves and offering help when he could, putting away the gym equipment or offering a protein bar on the way out just as Patton’s stomach started to rumble. 

Something was up, and Patton’s head was in a spin, but it was oddly perfect. 

Even Remy couldn’t believe the change. 

“You’re totally one hundred percent sure they’re not on drugs?” Patton shot him a look. “Okay just double checking. Joined a cult? Kidnapped by aliens and replaced by pod people? Serial killers planning on luring you in an-”

“God, Remy, no!” He hit his friend with his pillow, laughing at the offended noises Remy made before he joined Patton in giggling on the bed. “No I think they just… sorted something out. It’s weird though, right? Like there’s something weird happening? Not bad weird, but…”

Remy mirrored his shrug. “You’ll have to wait and see what happens with your ‘not so secret admirer’,” he said, singing the name. “Do you have any clue which one of them it is?” 

“Well no. But surely it’s Dex? I mean, he’s Dexter, he can sort out a blocked number. It’s… Remus is a total carebear but he’s not exactly James Bond, you know? It’s got to be Dex. But he’d just out and say it, I know he would, so I don’t- I can’t be sure. Remus is the dramatic one…” Round and round in circles they went but never came any closer to solving the puzzle. 

Friday came and went and at long last it was time to head out for the grand reveal. Remy had helped him get dressed (cute but weather appropriate and with good running shoes, just in case) and they were waiting in the living room for the address to come through. 

His phone buzzed. 

Once they’d stopped shrieking in excitement they googled and found the address was of the same cafe he’d spent so much time in with Dexter over Winter break, which- it was probably not a good thing that his heart had sunk over ruling out the possibility this was Remus all along, right? It had simultaneously skipped a beat at the confirmation that it was Dex, so… You win some, you lose some he supposed. 

Crunch time. 

He hurried along the streets- glad for the tiny size of their college town and for the lack of rain on the crisp February morning- and slipped into the cafe. Only to see not Dexter O’Reilly sat inside waiting for him, but- 

“Remus?!”

***

Let it be known that Remus Duke was not the prettiest boy in the whole college, far from it. Nor was he the most intelligent, nor the richest nor the most popular. However what Remus Duke had in spades was earnest charm. It was lethal in a one on one situation, and he made sparing use of it so as not to abuse his power. 

Let it also be known that Dexter O’Reilly was far from immune to said charm, especially when it was turned on him from a few feet across a brightly coloured, messy, but shockingly cosy room in a frat house on Greek Row. If Dexter was the Slytherin here then Remus was almost certainly the Hufflepuff who would drive said Slytherin to world domination. 

In this case, of course, world domination was replaced by Patton Sanders, and the prospect of getting to date him. The concept was the same though, and the intense level of detail required to get the plan exactly right was too. 

In fact, Dex had stayed way later that night than either of them had expected, as they’d plotted and planned and discussed various ways of making their dreams reality. What Remus lacked in book smarts, he made up for with an innate talent for asking exactly the right questions to fix any inefficiencies or problems before they ever arose, and you bet Dex had made a mental note of that for future reference. 

What neither of them had really considered, was the exact reaction Patton would have when he walked in the cafe door on Saturday morning to find not just Remus, but- 

***

“And Dex!” Patton’s eyes were big and round as they switched back and forth and back and forth between the two young men. He clutched his phone in his hand like a lifeline, wondering if this was going to turn out to be the worst day of his life so far, rather than the tentative best he’d pencilled it in as… 

“Hey,” Remus smiled hopefully at him, standing up and awkwardly trying to gesture Patton to his seat like a magician’s glamorous assistant or something. Patton took pity on him and did in fact sit, still mostly set to ????? and !!!!!! and only just managing to process what was happening. 

Opposite him, Dexter crossed one long leg over the other, and Remus perched on the edge of the third chair like he was physically restraining himself from getting up to go be closer to Patton. Which wasn’t entirely untrue, as it happened. 

“Guys, what’s going on?” Patton asked weakly, looking to Dex for guidance, but it was Remus who replied. 

“Well,” he started, twisting his hands around nervously. “We ended up having a bit of a chat, last week. I um, I- oh fuck what was I supposed to say?!” Dexter snorted softly and Remus pouted at him. “You’re no help, we said we’d do this together!” 

You could’ve knocked Patton over with a feather. His mouth actually fell open at the display of camraderie. Suddenly the serial killer theory had merit. 

“Patton. Through a convoluted set of circumstances we ended up discussing our possible futures… with you. It’s fairly clear you’re struggling to choose between the two of us, right?” He waited until Patton nodded slowly. “So we thought… why choose?” 

“My brother Roman told me about this class he took last semester see, about like, changing identities or something. People, basically, and he heard about all these different things they never taught us in school! And one of them was-”

“Wait,” Patton interjected, holding a hand out because he was ninety percent sure he knew where this was going, but- “That’s real? Having… sharing partners is real? It actually works?” 

“Hey how’d you know what I was going to s-”

“Yes, darling, yes to all of that. If the people involved are honest and open and willing to work on it,” Dexter interrupted, smiling at Patton. Remus was also looking at him, nearly bouncing in his seat with excitement, overflowing with energy like always. Gosh Patton loved his energy, his enthusiasm for life, his potential, ahem, stamina… 

He turned back to Dex, only to be filled with warmth at the look he was getting, because he loved the way Dex gave him special smiles he gave no one else. He loved his soft, clever words, and his gentleness. 

Oh. 

“Oh.” There was quiet for a moment before the two hopefuls shared a concerned glance. 

“Patton?” Dexter prompted. “Is that… a good ‘oh’ or a bad one? We uh, we know it’s kinda not what you were expecting, probably?”

“And you can take your time to think about it!”

“Thank you Remus, yes. You can take your time, darling. But we would like to try this with you. However you like. And if we want to change things down the road… we can talk about that too.”

Patton was the prettiest boy in the whole college. Seemed like today he was the luckiest, too. “Yes!” He shouted, leaping out of his seat to grab them both in a hug, dragging them together forcefully. “Oh gosh, goodness, yes, that sounds perfect!” He gave them each a kiss on the nearest cheek and sat back down, cheeks red but smile bright, holding his hands out for them to take one each. 

“This is going to be so cool!” Remus crowed, and Dex chuckled softly at his exuberance, squeezing Patton’s fingers, his eyes betraying his own quiet excitement.

Yeah, Patton thought. It really was. 

--

Bonus 1 | Bonus 2 | Bonus 3 | Bonus 4

[melhorsitedehospedagem2021]

Siteground Hosting - Full-Review

9 REASONS WHY I CHANGED MY BLOG HOSTING TO SITEGROUND

I switched to Siteground Hosting over 2 years ago and I absolutely love them. I have been with 7 other hosting companies, and I can categorically say that Siteground is much, much better. They are not just better, they are at a completely different level to everyone else.

I have 23 active websites in my online business. So my customers and partners always ask me about my hosting company, because I never have any issues and I never complain. So when they start going on about the issues they’re having, slow loading times, terrible support etc, I realize time and time again how lucky I am to be with Siteground.

So in this post I am going to explain why I love Siteground so much, and I hope this can help you decide which hosting is right for you.

REASON 1 – ASTONISHING CLIENT SUPPORT

There isn’t anything more irritating than having terrible client care at your hosting organization. I have been with Hostgator beforehand, and my involvement in them was horrendous (sorry HostGator, however it’s actual!). Damaging even. I used to submit uphold tickets and afterward not hear back for 2 days. At that point I needed to present another help pass to circle back to the current help ticket. Also, again no answer for 2 days. It was driving me extraordinarily crazy.

Also, when I attempted to utilize Hostgator visit uphold, I’d need to stand by a terribly prolonged stretch of time to get somebody to talk to me. Also, more often than not they requested to present the ticket at any rate so that “the specialists can investigate it”. It actually raises my heartbeat to consider that experience. At the point when your site is down or not working as expected, and you’re losing cash and deals, you need somebody who will help you in a flash.

This is the place where Siteground truly sparkle. I will discuss it in detail beneath, however they truly are the market chiefs in client care. All issues or questions that I’ve at any point had get managed essentially immediately. Their help tickets get tackled inside 30 minutes and their visit uphold is moment – you get somebody to talk with you inside a couple of moments.

REASON 2 – CHAT SUPPORT IS INSTANT

Alright so Chat Backing at Siteground truly is remarkable. At the point when you have such an issue, or even an inquiry, you can essentially tap on Live Chat, and you get somebody to converse with right away, there is no pausing.

What’s more, after you begin chatting to somebody, they don’t simply send you off to another region. They really figure out how to help you on that chat more often than not.

Here is some information which shows how Siteground looks at to 12 other hosting organizations and I have given that beneath. So from the second you begin chatting to give goal normal turnaround time is just 5 minutes. This information is given by Siteground, however I need to say that I would say it’s right on target.

Chat answer time: instantaneously

Chat goal time: 5 minutes

REASON 3 – PHONE SUPPORT IS INSTANTANEOUS

I don’t care to call my hosting supplier all the time. I have just done it a couple of times. However, there could be individuals out there who might want to call up rather than chat or tickets.

So I can’t completely say that phone support is Consistently instant, yet in the 3 or 4 multiple times that I needed to call, they did for sure get quickly. Details from Siteground’s survey:

REASON 4 – 30 MINUTES REPLY ON TICKETS

Here and there you can’t get your issue addressed over chat. For instance, you may have to give screen captures, or login subtleties, or a record of something. In those occurrence you need to send in a ticket.

With most other hosting organizations a ticket implies many long stretches of holding up prior to hearing anything back. Once more, my involvement in Siteground has been overwhelmingly certain, in light of the fact that each ticket I have sent in the course of recent years was settled in a flash.

REASON 5 – PROACTIVE SECURITY

I don’t have the foggiest idea how to state this appropriately, so the most ideal approach to portray it that I can consider is Proactive Security.

Twice in the previous year I have been attacked through a DDOS attack, where fundamentally programmers send a large number of bot clicks each moment to your site, making it load pages at an inconceivably quick rate, and in the end cutting the worker down, which brings about your site being disconnected for quite a long time or days all at once.

Siteground, shockingly, proactively distinguished that for me, and sent me a warning message by means of email to exhort me that was going on, and that they figured out how to obstruct the DDOS attack. So my attacked destinations copped a touch of harm and were down for 10-15 minutes, yet were back online after that. The entirety of that occurred while I was sleeping.

REASON 6 – EXTRAORDINARY LOADING TIMES

As I have referenced, I have been with 7 other hosting organizations, including HostGator, Bluehost, FatCow, Namecheap Hosting, GoDaddy Hosting a few more modest ones. Siteground load times have consistently been the quickest and I have never experience any uncommon gradualness of sites.

I haven’t actually done such a time loading comparison , I can simply say that my HostGator shared hosting sites now and then required 4-5 seconds to try and begin loading. With Siteground, it’s constantly been instant, super quick.

The outcome at the bottom is with the SuperCacher enabled, which is fundamentally a choice you can turn for in you to enable caching.

REASON 7 – BACKUPS ARE FREE OF CHARGE

I didn’t understand how significant backups are. I never truly had any issues as far as the info in my sites going bad or anything like that.

However, in April this year, for one of my product item launches, my developer committed an error and a ton of campaign information that I had put away on my site got lost. There were around 15 campaigns, with designs, banners, and loads of other info. It would have taken me days to re-make.

So I went to Siteground support and got some insight about backups. I didn’t know whether they had it or not. Fortunately, they give free every day backups for free, all included for all your hosting accounts (30 days backup for Shared and 7 days backup for VPS). I figured out how to get my info reestablished, and it was a monstrous help.

REASON 8 – MIGRATION SERVICE

If you ever need a migration service Siteground offers that as well. Once you have selected a domain, you can easily migrate an existing site to SiteGround on step 2 of the Website Setup Wizard. To initiate a site transfer, click Select under Migrate Website.

Then, you have the option to choose between an automatic migration available for WordPress sites via our Migrator plugin.  For detailed instructions, check out the WordPress Automatic Migrator tutorial.

REASON 9 – COST

I put this at the extremely base, on the grounds that genuinely cost isn’t the greatest factor while picking your hosting supplier. The main things are client service and website loading speed.

In any case, Siteground additionally follows through on cost. Their common hosting begins at simply 3.95/month which is just about as modest as some other modest organization out there. Hostgator plans are about a similar cost.

What’s more, regardless of whether you could save $0.50 or $1 every month somewhere else, I truly don’t suggest picking the least expensive hosting. You may save $6 or $10 per year by picking the least expensive host, however you are probably going to think twice about it when you run over ghastly customer service.

Also, Siteground are not costly using any and all means – they are incredibly reasonable, and still exceptionally near being perhaps the least expensive organization.

GATHERING…

All things considered, there you go. As should be obvious, I truly love Siteground. Furthermore, I have no hesitation in prescribing them to anybody. They have a choice of plans which can grow with you… I began with a modest common hosting plan and now I’m running a VPS (Cloud) account since I have such countless sites. In any case, it’s absolutely adaptable and you can begin with a standard shared account and afterward go up when you need to.

Click here to begin with Siteground

[mintchocohip]

pegging sub!bts︱all members

▬     𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 ➤ headcanons for pegging the OT7!

▬     pairing: member x reader ︱ rating: explicit ︱ genre​: smut

cr▹

┃ other kinks can be found with each member, when applicable.

        𝙏𝘼𝙀𝙃𝙔𝙐𝙉𝙂  

▬   A double-sided strap provides the connection Taehyung craves. He wants to work up to something the size of his own cock, or bigger━occasional bouts of humble-bragging insecurity over being too big means he wants to know what it’s like for his partners. The realization that he just loves feeling full up and filled deep follows naturally. 

▬   Aesthetics aren’t an afterthought. The material and colors of the harness and toys do need to suit Taehyung’s mood, and they do need to suit the aesthetics of his favorite immersive historical roleplays.

▬   Even when it’s a low-key session with a medium-sized, soft toy that can curve nice and gently, lube flows like a waterfall. The huge bottle of lube is there less because Taehyung needs it, and more because you both love the slick, crisp sounds. 

▬   Taehyung’s mood is crystal-clear in how he asks for a pegging. If he’s in a good mood, it’s silent body language. When he’s in a bad mood, it’s demands of “fuck me, fuck me, please, right now, just fuck me.” When he’s in a really bad mood, bending Taehyung over the nearest flat surface gets the job done in a few knee-shaking minutes━no lube necessary. Taehyung’s romantic moods means he can’t ask for it. He wants you to know. There’s a certain soft look in his eyes, though, and a certain way he licks his lips, that makes you cusp a hand against the side of his face and ask “Is that what you want?”

▬   Experimenting with the temperature of the toy in the harness gets surprisingly exhilarated results. A warmed-up ceramic dildo is especially popular.

        𝙔𝙊𝙊𝙉𝙂𝙄   other kinks: gangbang, sounding  

▬   When the harness comes out, the comfort of a prostate massager or the intimacy of fingers and tongues is abandoned. The cold, calculated and invasive make Yoongi’s heart patter, and flush him into the kind of mindlessness that can only be released through trust. 

▬   Big, thick, small, thin━what goes in the harness doesn’t matter, as long as it’s pushed into him rough. Yoongi’s mouth is especially eager to take the strap, but indulging his desire to get facefucked is usually reserved for a treat, or a little decompression during aftercare. Within the boundaries of a scene, not letting Yoongi get what he wants is key.

▬   When he’s getting fucked within an inch of passing out, Yoongi’s exhibitionist streak becomes a jetstream. There’s nothing intimate about these moments, so he’s not shy about sharing them. Play parties, clubs, and private shows with strangers make Yoongi woozy with pride over how well he can take it, and equally humiliate him until his cheeks are a beautiful cherry red. Sometimes you start the train; sometimes it’s a friend, and sometimes it’s whoever volunteers to buckle into the harness next to Yoongi’s bound and blindfolded body. 

▬   All of Yoongi’s holes are fuckable, in one way or another. Pale legs have been frogtied up with medical tape. His knees are in his armpits. A metal rod is slowly sliding down his lube-glistening cock, and the stainless steel dildo is slowly pushing up his slicked ass. Dueling sensations streaked through Yoongi’s body by your hand and your hips mean a sensitive prostate is getting squeezed from two sides━the blanked-out expression and utter motionlessness beneath you are relying on you to listen, and watch carefully for signs of a failed attempt to mouth the safeword. Yoongi is also relying on you to understand he’s far from delicate. There’s a muscle in Yoongi’s thigh you only ever see twitching when he’s about to have a shoved-all-the-way-in-there orgasm, and right now, it’s almost vibrating.    

▬   Yoongi doesn’t like the strap being treated as an extension of his partner’s self. The appeal of toys rests on their depersonalization. It’s a thing being put inside of him.

        𝙅𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙆𝙊𝙊𝙆   other kinks: sub training       

▬   Jungkook will try anything in the harness once. Once. The trusty masturbation egg he’s been using for years has survived thanks to regular, attentive cleaning. When it comes to dildos, though, Jungkook goes through them like tissues. Packages constantly show up in his mailbox containing the latest squishy squirting jelly dildo he saw online, or the glittery fuchsia piece shaped like a tentacle. Shyness about experimentation held Jungkook back in the past, and now, his curiosity is spilling out. 

▬   Mixing up unusual, surprising colors into faux-cum creampies keeps things fresh, but, ultimately, most of Jungkook’s rainbow-colored collection fall out of rotation and end up as stress toys for him to squeeze and pick at when he’s bored.

▬   Any position that makes Jungkook uncomfortable turns gears in his brain that pool drool into his mouth. Sucking something hard and tasteless often looks like foreplay, but it feels like a main event. Getting fucked in a piledriver sets those gears into overdrive. Jungkook loves being able to see the strap push into him, and he’ll stare between his legs wide-eyed, flutter his eyelids, squeeze his eyes shut, and wheel through such a beautiful series of expressions and keening, muscle-twitching whimpers that it looks and sounds like he’s going to come untouched at any second━when a rope of come does shoot down onto his shaking chest, it always means keep going. Hands in Jungkook’s hair, fingernails clawing at his legs until they’re pink and red; streaking and pinching come over his nipples, and pushing out a few more orgasms until Junkook’s running dry━it’s the only way to make sure he emerges from the other side of aftercare satisfied.

▬   The thought of his ass and mouth being available to you 24/7 makes Jungkook shiver. Practicality and boundaries mean fantasy stays fantasy. On one special day a week, though, you both get a slice of that dream. By the time you’ve trained him to keep the buttplug in all day, Jungkook can fall asleep with your fingers playfully turning the base.

▬   Building up tiers of length and thickness means switching toys out regularly during long, long pegging sessions. Giving memorable names to the collection of toys available to Jungkook means he can ask for a specific toy simply, or beg for it with a single word.

        𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙀𝙊𝙆   other kinks: roleplay, degredation, bondage, public/semi-public, filming

▬   He insists he can take more. Overwhelming Hoseok into spilling the safeword into his rolling, hiccuping moans is shockingly easy. Even if Hoseok wants to work up to bigger things, getting fucked is a precarious balance between accepting that it won’t all be luxury and trying to stop himself from teetering off a cliff he can’t climb back up on his own. For now, toys are average sized and simple shapes, and lube glistens on Hoseok’s ass like a second skin. 

▬   During gentler sessions, a reach-around with a fleshlight turns Hoseok’s moans into eye-fluttering silence.

▬   Roleplay loosens up Hoseok’s internal restraints. It doesn’t matter how hard he gets fucked, and it doesn’t matter if it hurts━he wants it to hurt. Punishment play, degradation, and your self-assured dirty talk about how much he just needed to get that attitude fucked out of him erase Hoseok’s thoughts, and replace them with sparks and blobs of blissful numbness. The roles are often classics, and the positions that accompany them are classics, too. The man caught jerking off in the library; and the frustrated librarian who’s had enough of his shit━it gets replay. Doggy style and fade down, ass up means he can just shut off his brain, and take it. Other times, faux-impromptu bondage ties him up in precariously exposed positions, and leaves him there when the deed is finished. Breaking Hoseok down is easy, and he’s so cheerful once the binds come off, it almost seems like he wasn’t just shaking like a leaf.

▬   Traveling with Hoseok means racking up unique, increasingly precarious places where he’s been pegged. Bringing him back down from the urge to take the strap in the middle of a bustling plaza means exploring that craving with a camera, some mood lighting, and constant refreshes to see how many hits the video has gotten so far.

▬   The visuals of the harness and toy don’t seem too important, at first. When you introduce a strappy black leather harness and a bright red dildo, Hoseok is swallowing and flushing so much he doesn’t even want to look at it directly. Again━the classics have their appeal.

        𝙅𝙄𝙈𝙄𝙉   ​other kinks: praise/degredation, filming  

▬   Long, thick, and hard. Knowing what Jimin wants is simple.

▬   Jimin’s ass is magical, and it deserves the praise of a good fuck. Praise laced with degradation heightens that fuck into an experience stripping Jimin to his core. Soft words in his ear fill Jimin up with that heady mixture as much as the reverent, demeaning movements of hips━”Perfect. All flushed and fucked like this. Do you understand, Jimin? The way you love it so much━ you’re made for this. As soon as it’s up in there, you’re amazing. You’re glowing. This is who you are.” Dirty talk in his ear while he’s fucked from behind and hands play with his nipples and grope his chest and abs and squeeze the head of his cute little cock means Jimin can curl up in the sheets and shake and squirm as much as he needs to. Ricocheting gasps, high-pitched squeals, and random bouts of stunned laughter mean Jimin loves it. 

▬   Jimin needs to love it. If he isn’t enjoying himself, he will let you know. Bitterness seeps into the vocal brattiness he shoots over his shoulder. If he can’t form those coherent sentences, you’re doing something right.

▬   Pegging Jimin often becomes an exercise in service topping. If you don’t get off, though, he takes it as a personal offense. When he’s not too blown out to need immediate aftercare, the reason Jimin prefers open-crotched harnesses becomes obvious in a flash of skilled fingers slipping into your cunt, and slicking you off the edge that’s been building since your fingers made those same motions in Jimin’s ass fifteen minutes prior.

▬   The simplistic USB necklace keys into whatever outfit you wear on dates with Jimin. If you slid out the compatible connector and pushed it into his phone, dozens of stills of Jimin getting fucked would tile up in neat rows. Some star you; some star whoever consented to recording. The reminder was your idea, but Jimin fell head over heels for it.

        𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙅𝙊𝙊𝙉   other kinks: crossdressing  

▬   Lacy harnesses match Namjoon’s jewel-toned lingerie. A sleek black harness compliments his mesh bodysuit, the matching black collar on his throat, and the jingling black harnesses on his wrists and ankles. You know how to choose outfits that compliment Namjoon’s tan skin and streamlined body━it always makes Namjoon almost giddy with attempts to mute his joy when you surprise him with some shopping, and choose what he’s going to wear tonight.

▬   Namjoon loves dressing up, and he loves getting fucked right. Simple, medium-sized toys or prostate massagers slot into the harness. When Namjoon takes something he can’t relax around instantly, discomfort stops him cold. Thirteen centimeters draw out nothing but delighted shivers and shakes. The gentle care and pleasure pushed in by ten centimeters make Namjoon flush into automatic gasps, and make him leak automatic drips of thick, glossy precome.

▬   One taste was all it took for Namjoon to become addicted. It means a lot to him. Feeling desirable for what his cock can do is fine, but knowing somebody wants him this way is deeply flattering, liberating, and relieving. It’s romantic.

▬   Namjoon wants to show you what his body can do. His stomach sucks in and twists; his shoulders pull back, his chest spreads out and his hips rotate and twist and press down on your lap━hard. Every time Namjoon pushes down hard, the buzz on your clit pushes down, hard. Lights tingle and sparkle over your eyes━keeping your eyes open through the stars Namjoon is putting in them means you must look in awe. You are in awe. When you can move, you’re stroking Namjoon all over, jerking him off, sucking on his chest, groping his ass, and whispering quiet words to the man giving you the best lapdance you’ve ever received━”You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

▬   Letting Namjoon lead once the pegging session starts is vital. Otherwise, he becomes a little too flustered to properly function.

        𝙎𝙀𝙊𝙆𝙅𝙄𝙉   other kinks: bondage, degradation

        warning:  elements of rape roleplay

▬   Studded leather and an unforgiving strap make Seokjin almost sick with anticipation, on nights when a jockey whip taps against the wall on its way to his ass spread out over the spanking table. A lacy pink harness and a short, soft pastel pink cock put Seokjin at ease, on nights when he wants to be the little spoon, have one of his thighs pushed over the other, and get cuddlefucked into loving oblivion.

▬   “Please!” “No…” “please, stop, please, I can’t take anymore━” and babbling nonsense sounds are Seokjin’s leitmotifs. Getting a feel for Seokjin’s sounds means knowing what it means when the words are soft━faster, harder━and knowing what it means when there’s an edge to them━I’m serious, slow down, but… make it work in the scene. Condescend to me, make fun of me, tell me how pathetic I am for not being able to take more... A taste for hands on his throat and getting jostled around like he isn’t a tall, solid guy means Seokjin needs to trust his partner. While he can enjoy a pegging with somebody he doesn’t know very well, even a casual pegging means outlining parameters of play, and establishing his tics. The relief of a familiar pair of hips in the harness means Seokjin doesn’t have to hold back the things that flow naturally. 

▬   It isn’t a disappointment if Seokjin goes soft during a pegging. His senses have flown into his ass, and the rest of his body can’t keep up. A prostate orgasm while his nipples get a tad too much attention is far more intense than anything his cock could provide, anyways.

▬   Nothing matches the kick you and Seokjin get out of eating his elaborately prepared dinner with a dildo on the table. The second Seokjin tries to start washing the dishes, you're distracting him, until he’s conceding to getting bent over the sink and fucked with tender thankfulness for an amazing meal. 

[stolethekey]

2019 creator year-in-review tag

i spent half an hour writing this post out on my phone and then the tumblr app crashed and it all got lost so i am currently typing this on my laptop with annoyance coursing through my veins and hate in my heart but anyway here we go

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2019. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

i was tagged by the inimitable @johnny-and-dora, whom i got to know this year through a happy fic exchange accident!1! i’ve been in a bit of a creative rut recently, so maybe this’ll be a good reminder of the things i’ve done that i’m proud of. 2019 was also the first full year during which i was writing fic, so most of my work is up for grabs. that means i am basically picking favorites from all my children and – let me tell you – this was shockingly easy.

anyway here we go! i’m putting these under the break so that if you don’t care you can just skip this post. no judgement.

in no particular order:

- it’s been a long, long time (MCU): my first ever fic (and also my first and only completed multichap), this one is always going to hold a special place in my heart. i can’t read the first few chapters without physically cringing and hating myself but i love the last couple chapters, and i think that’s indicative of the leaps and bounds my writing skills made throughout the course of the year it took me to finish this fic. i’d wanted to work on my fiction prose for a long, long time (ha), and i just never got the courage or motivation to do it. this fic was my leap into the world of writing fiction, and my writing ability is better for it. long, long time was also my introduction to the online mcu fandom, thereby making it my introduction to a world of friends and art that i didn’t know i was missing. also, angst.

- we could be a beautiful miracle, unbelievable (B99):  this fic was a happy accident that i wrote as a last-minute pinch-hit for someone who couldn’t finish their part of a fic exchange, and i am so glad i did it. i am obsessed with sickfics and sian’s prompt gave me the push i needed to finally write one myself. pining!peraltiago is the best peraltiago and i feel like writing this one made me immensely more comfortable with capturing their characters through both narration and dialogue. and i feel like that comes through in:

- i close my eyes, let it surround me (B99):  the sickfic sequel my heart belongs to. thank you to everyone who asked for a sickfic sequel, because i probably wouldn’t have done it otherwise and wow do i love this one. pretty wild how the flu can open up so many possibilities. it seems like fic exchanges are where my peraltiago fics rise. and also maybe i am very single and i like to use them to fill my soul. shut up.

- come back and tell me why i’m feeling like i’ve missed you all this time (MCU): i just LOVE the concept for this, which came from @beatingsofabesottedheart2. this was my first attempt at romanogers fluff (it came very late i am a slut for angst) and i am surprisingly still very proud of the way it turned out. i think i struck a good balance between largely meaningless fluff and the undertone of pain and hurt that underlie both of their backstories, and the way that informs the ways they live their lives today (both individually and together).

- i’ve learned in love and death, we don’t decide (MCU): this title is from lost by dermot kennedy, which singlehandedly inspired almost all of my post-endgame fic. i think this is the most emotion i have ever funneled into a piece of my writing, and i think it shows – not in the quality, necessarily, but in the sheer angst the second chapter contains. i actually wrote almost all of the first part before endgame even came out, basing it solely on one (1) clip of the trailer and my predictions, but the second chapter is maybe one of my favorite things i have ever written.

i wrote this in a comment reply on a different fic but there is something so beautifully heartbreaking about missed opportunity and lost hope and being too late. the romanogers story is a story of what it’s like to be so close, but lose everything anyway, and how sometimes having a little is harder than having nothing at all. spun a certain way, it’s a tale of two people who have always managed to find a way out not being able to find a way to each other. and that informs so much of what i write, even when i’m just filling in the negative space.

-

anyway, that’s my 2019 wrap-up! if you’ve read this far, thank you for indulging me. a big thank you, also, to each and every one of you who’s read one of my fics, left kudos or comments, and interacted with me on tumblr.

a special shoutout to those of you that commented or sent me asks – it is not an exaggeration to say that you are my single largest motivator. like, yes, i do love writing for myself, but this year has also seen me apply to law school and write an honors thesis, so i’m always a little tired of staring at words in an word doc. your comments asking for more are not thirsty or demanding; in fact, they are sometimes the only things that keep me writing. if you talk about things you liked (or even loved), that’s a sweet bonus that boosts my mood more than you would think possible. so thank you, thank you, thank you.

gonna tag some creators i love and respect now! @natasharomanoff, @whoisyennefer, @vivilevone and @ofbuttsandbombs: ball’s in your court. (i haven’t been on tumblr in a while, so if you’ve already done this just ignore me.)

also, if you’d like to do this and no one’s tagged you, just do it and say i tagged you!! i want to see what you’re proud of. we could all use a little more self-love. i will also add your url to the above tagged list so that, technically, i did tag you.

happy new year, everyone! thanks for everything.

[gallifreyanlibertea]

I Took My Hater Out On A Date (2/7)

(1/7)  (3/7)  (4/7)  (5/7)  (6/7)

a/n: thank you to everyone that replied to my post!

Arthur barely heard the text notification over his yowling cats. Of course, the beasts only got louder once he turned his attention away from them in pursuit of his phone. They thumped his leg, stomped on his foot. Arthur sighed defeatedly as his fingers curled back into his palm. It seemed his cats weren’t going to let him check his messages until they’d been fed.

Honestly, they acted like Arthur starved them. 

Arthur scraped the food into their food bowls, pausing momentarily at the sound of yet another phone notification, to which his second kitten, Gregory, mewled yet again at Arthur’s distraction.

“Alright, alright.” Arthur snapped. He finished dispensing the food and his cats went to town, to which Arthur’s annoyed, furrowed brows ironed out with a slight, forgiving smile. He couldn’t stay mad at them for long. He reached to scratch their ears as they ate, only to be startled by yet another notification. It was one too many from what Arthur usually received at such a quiet, boring time as one twenty-three PM.

Most of his friends were at work by that time. Arthur would’ve been as well, had it not been for the fact that he’d slipped in his bathtub and nearly snapped his back in two a few days ago- he chose never to explain that incident in detail to his YouTube subscribers, who no doubt saw him as a young, sarcastic and somewhat robust man. It was an illusion he hadn’t been so quick to shatter, so he’d told them he was hospitalized and that was all they needed to know. 

It wasn’t exactly a lie so much as it was a half-truth.

Arthur had been leaning to check his messages when he was startled by five firm knocks on his front door. He scrambled to brush the cat hair off his sweater before he opened the door to- “Francis? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I left early. Have you seen it?” Francis said, lips spreading in what seemed to be a mocking smile.”That American’s new video?”

“Wh- what? I-”

Francis helped himself into Arthur’s apartment, squatting by Arthur’s coffee table to retrieve Arthur’s laptop from underneath, all with the familiarity of an ex- live-in boyfriend.

It put a sour taste in Arthur’s mouth to remember that he’d actually dated Francis Bonnefoy.

Francis hated cats, Arthur hated the French, Arthur wasn’t quite sure how it had all worked out for three months, much less a minute.

He supposed the sex had been good. Really good. That was all their relationship had been, really. It lacked any substance, it had moved far too fast, it was far too sloppy, which made it all the more easier for Arthur when Francis finally grew bored of Arthur and broke things off.

Nevertheless, Arthur found that he was never able to truly get rid of Francis Bonnefoy. He hadn’t minded that sometimes.

He minded it now, as he watched Francis nearly step on a cat in his hurry to sit on the couch.

“Watch out for Greg!” Arthur hissed.

Francis paused. His lip curled. “I’ll never understand your choice of pet names.”

“The name means to watch, to be alert.” Arthur sniffed. “Cats deserve meaningful names as well, you know, he’s got those sharp ears and those big eyes, like he’s always looking for something-”

“You named the first one Biscuit.”

“I thought it was cute!”

Francis rolled his eyes and went back to work. Arthur eyed him as he threw Arthur’s laptop open, with long painted fingernails clacking on the keys.

“I hardly think it’s that important, Francis.” Arthur scoffed. Curiosity gnawed at the pit of Arthur’s stomach, but Francis didn’t need to know that. 

See, all Francis would need to know was that Alfred Jones, that annoyingly attractive American YouTuber, was nothing more than an insignificant part of Arthur’s YouTube career. Arthur’s subscribers had brought Alfred to Arthur’s attention, and Arthur had done what he did best, what his viewers liked best. He’d reacted to Alfred’s videos.

Besides, it was shockingly easy to make fun of Alfred, just as it was to poke fun at any gaming YouTuber, really. Arthur never had understood the hype.

He recalled almost groaning at the thought of having to watch Alfred’s videos to find something to talk about. He’d clicked on them reluctantly. He wasn’t exactly eager to spend his time watching something he knew for a fact he wouldn’t enjoy, even if it was for the sake of his ‘career’.

He supposed he’d judged the book by its cover, but that form of evaluation almost always worked when it came to gaming YouTubers. They were all the same. With their same, screamy, juvenile content. Their same ‘squads’ playing games together, their same scripted content. Arthur never understood how they gained so many subscribers.

And there had been no plot twist, no sudden realization that, wow, I’d misunderstood this Alfred Jones all along! Because Arthur had truly hated the first video he’d seen. 

That particular video had been Alfred and his mates playing a game with commentary voiced over. It had been dreadful to watch, so painfully boring. Arthur never understood how it could be entertaining to watch others play a game and not actually play it yourself.

Arthur had, however, smiled a little- maybe a little- at some of Alfred’s light humor, sprinkled in between censored curse words and loud laughter. That was all.

It wasn’t until he’d watched a video with Alfred’s actual face in view that everything struck him. 

The other video had the game in full view with a small window in the corner where Arthur could see Alfred and his friends playing. He’d skipped to the middle to watch it and left almost a minute after, so Arthur hadn’t gotten to see that deliciously strong jawline in clear view, full lips parting for dimpled grins, broad shoulders clad in that sweatshirt of his.

Suddenly, Arthur found it difficult to piece together his argument. He was at a loss for words when words were the things he desperately needed to conjure up- dry-humored, cynical words, ones that had never failed to entertain his viewers. 

Well, it was easy to draft something vicious, of course. Arthur never ran dry on ways to insult a person, but he needed to find something… genuine.

Arthur liked to think his videos were an extension of him. Nothing was scripted. He’d just talk and talk and edit out the rough parts, but it seemed everything he had to say about Alfred was a rough part. He’d gone on for minutes flaming Alfred’s content in front of his camera until it had figuratively laid in simmering ashes at Arthur’s feet, but when Arthur re-watched the footage, he felt something missing. 

He didn’t know what.

It was strange, considering that Alfred had an enormous amount of content, which meant more for Arthur to talk about. That meant it would be easier to find material for a reaction video, right?

Arthur’s research had started out with a wide sweep of the channel. He could’ve easily poked fun at just the amount of playlists the lad had- it seemed he made a video about everything.

There was a gaming channel. Arthur had passed that one almost immediately, not wanting to torture himself any longer. He’d already had enough to say about those videos.

There was a… conspiracy theory channel? Arthur had paused upon seeing that, wondering if his eyes deceived him. He’d clicked onto it to find videos about faked moon landings, Mandela effects, theories as to how the world would end- Alfred seemed to be very well versed in his research.

“Hey guys,” Alfred started all his conspiracy videos with chilling music. Arthur liked to pretend it never got to him, but he had clicked out of the video that night and watched it the next morning, in broad daylight. “I have a brand new conspiracy to talk about and- wow, I honestly could not see anything the same after researching it.”

That low, husky voice Alfred put on for the videos, Alfred’s knowledge on the matter- it gave Arthur... mad-scientist vibes. Arthur hadn’t known he’d been blushing profusely until he’d clicked out of the video and taken a break for a quick glass of water.

Arthur couldn’t help his attraction to the strangest little things. He had a thing for tourists, for conspiracists, for glasses, for a nice tall build, and Alfred was inconveniently all of those. Alfred was annoyingly, incredibly, attractive, and there was no denying it.

But hell, Arthur found many things attractive. Even Francis was attractive (which was something Arthur would never tell him) but that had never stopped Arthur from making fun of him.

So yes, Arthur found ample things to discuss in his video, but he had never been content with a single take. In fact, he’d contemplated giving up on the idea, but he couldn’t afford to pass up on making a video that almost guaranteed viewer satisfaction, what with the sheer amount of Twitter posts, YouTube comments, Instagram DMs and whatnot that practically begged Arthur to consider Alfred Jones.

He would simply have to make it work. He’d scanned his thirteenth take, in which he’d been sitting in front of the camera with a sneer on his lips. “I don’t know just how offended I should be that you lot selected someone so unbelievably annoying, so humorless, so-”

And Arthur had winced, just a little. Despite the fact that his viewers adored his rant videos, Arthur didn’t have the heart to be so cruel this time. At least not without some sort of filter. Besides, he wasn’t exactly keen on having Alfred Jones superfans flooding his comment section.

So Arthur had found a comfortable middle-ground. He indulged his viewers in the mockery while diluting it for the sake of diplomacy- er, however much diplomacy could be managed with a Reaction YouTuber’s videos.

“As pretty of a face as he does have, I’d still never subject myself to his mind-numbingly boring and clichéd content, nor would I subject myself to a date with someone with a loud, annoying, cookie-cutter online personality.”

Arthur wasn’t wrong. Alfred was attractive, and Arthur had been pleased with the take. It hadn’t been too harsh. It had just the right amounts of everything, just enough not to make Arthur feel too guilty. After all, he complimented Alfred! Even if it was just a little.

It also helped that Alfred wasn’t there in person. Arthur doubted he could say anything remotely rude in front of those big blue eyes.

… or maybe he could. Arthur didn’t know. That was the whole point of the situation, because Alfred was a YouTuber on Arthur’s laptop screen. It didn’t feel real. It made it all the more easier for Arthur.

It also didn’t help that Alfred was predictable as well. When Alfred had replied, it was as Arthur had expected. It was like a game of chess. It was hardly two people in a petty fight- Arthur assumed that if this were in person, that was what it would be. But because it was online, it felt like a battle, a war.

See, he’d learned a lot from dating a popular MUA, and it was that YouTube interactions between two well-known creators were hardly ever just an interaction. It was a tactic. It carried benefits.

When Alfred had said, “Besides, I’d never date anyone who can spend that much time complaining on camera”, Arthur had raised his brows. He’d checked the comment section to find some of Arthur’s subscribers meagerly defending him. How cute.

He’d checked his twitter to find the brewings of a feud. Subscribers of Alfred’s fought ones of Arthur, subscribers of both were eager for more. Oh god, Arthur had even found hate-to-love fanfiction-

The viewers were not letting this go. Therefore, Arthur would not be letting this go. He would not be sparing Alfred Jones.

It seemed Alfred wouldn’t be sparing Arthur either. Arthur checked his messages as Francis searched for Alfred’s latest video, one he absolutely had to watch, apparently, because Arthur’s first message had been from an ex-roommate that Arthur still kept in contact with, Bharat:

Have you seen it????

Another had been from his older brother, Allistair:

Watch the new vid, am honestly cryin HAHA its what you get fer fuckin round on yt all the time

And two others had been from Francis:

MDR did you see??

I’m coming over I’m almost there

It seemed Alfred wasn’t sparing Arthur either, because Arthur found his expression contorting into one of pain every second of Alfred’s latest video, wondering what exactly on God’s green earth was Alfred’s plan. 

It was unpredictable, and Arthur never made his next move until he knew what his opponent was up to.

Francis had let the cursor hover over a video on the trending page titled ‘Why Arthur Kirkland Should Date Me’. Arthur’s eyebrows had shot up. “Wh… what?”

Francis had clicked the video with a smirk. “Trust me, it gets worse.”

“Hey, what’s up you guys! I’m back again with another video.” A chipper Alfred said on the screen. “I’m gonna assume you all know why I’m making this. A YouTuber I’d never seen before- and trust me, I would never have forgotten a face like that if I had.” Alfred winked. 

Arthur choked on air. Francis bit back a smile. 

“He’s been dragging me to hell and back, and his recent video was particularly interesting to me.”

A thumbnail link of the video popped up on the screen. Well, at least, Arthur was getting some advertisement.

“Come on now, dude, this isn’t kindergarten! For a guy that spent a good ten minutes talking about how childish I am, you’re not so much better yourself.”

Arthur had frowned quizzically, not entirely sure of where the message had been going.

“You think I’m hot, I think you’re hot-”

What.

“I mean, I’ll look past the huge eyebrows and the fact that you wear the same type of sweater in all your videos, if you can look past my cookie-cutter online personality. I took the liberty to make a video just for you, in the hopes that you’ll just drop the act and slide into my DMs.”

Arthur furrowed his brows. Alfred was a clever lad. A clever, clever lad, it seemed, because, well, this was Alfred’s plan. If Arthur made another, normal reaction video, there would be no changing of the fact that millions of viewers now thought Arthur was some schoolgirl with a crush, some schoolgirl in denial.

Arthur watched the scene cut to Alfred lifting weights in the low, orangey light of a gym-

“I work out!”

-then, to Alfred on some sort of gymnastic mat, doing impressive backflips and other... bendy things, “I’m flexible if you know what I mean.”

Arthur watched, red-faced, as Alfred winked on screen. The scene then switched to Alfred playing with a pet- a fat, fluffy white cat with brown ears. “I saw in a video that you liked cats. I have one too! His name’s Hero!”

That bit was predictable. It was easy to see that the Alfred was a comic book buff from the figurines that lined the room he filmed in, the posters on his walls.

Now, Alfred was on a couch, scrolling his phone with a big, cheesy smile. “I just googled your height, and I think you’d fit just perfectly in my arms. People tell me I’m real warm.”

This was ridiculous. Surely Alfred had to know that! Arthur’s cheeks burned red in embarrassment. He was suddenly aware of Francis’ presence, those blue, mocking, laughing eyes of his drilling into Arthur’s mortified body.

And finally, much to Francis’ glee and the twist in the pit of Arthur’s stomach, Alfred took off his sweatshirt. He took off the shirt underneath it, displaying a deliciously tanned expanse of toned muscle. Alfred grinned cheekily, and Arthur felt his insides flutter. “And last of all, because this is what’s under my sweatshirt.”

“That bastard,” Arthur muttered as the video came to an end. “I- I don’t even know what he… that cheeky bastard.”

“I say you accept his proposal,” Francis joked. Arthur ignored him.

“I’ve got to do something, Francis. I can’t just let him- I… I need to match his play, but I can’t just do something like this, God knows I don’t have that in me!”

“Stop blubbering. Does it always have to be a play with you?” Francis scoffed, “Maybe he likes you.”

“Oh come on,” Arthur rose from the couch, taking to pacing in his living room, “He’s doing this for views and I know it. Fans go crazy over gay subtext like this.”

“It’s hardly sub-text.”

Arthur ignored him again. “I’m not going to let myself be ridiculed like this.”

Arthur filmed a new video the next week, in which he’d taken to coming up with a list, similar to Alfred. He’d filmed in various locations, similar to Alfred. Arthur matched the play.

“Sometimes I box after a stressful day,” Arthur had said as Francis filmed him in the ring, boxing glove-clad hands poised up, “I can quite easily knock a tooth out.”

The scene switched to Arthur sifting through his mail. “I’ve got all these bills that I’m paying with my job. In case you’re not sure what that is, it’s an adult responsibility. To put it into terms you might understand, my job is like a… um, quest that I complete to gain coins, money, um… V-Bucks, so I can pay for ‘cool stuff’! Like rent! And it’s very important, so I’d rather not be bothered with children dragging my name into videos for viewer satisfaction.”

And there was much, much more. Oh, so much more. Arthur titled the video ‘Why Alfred Jones Should Fuck Off’ and posted it with a smug smile on his lips.

It was trending a week later.

Arthur scrolled through his email notifications absentmindedly, watching his subscriber count grow, as his free hand stroked Biscuit on his lap.

See, Arthur could admit that all the new subscribers did make him feel a little bit nice. Maybe that made him slightly egotistical. He liked to see his email chock full of the notifications. He liked to scroll through them, when he had nothing else to do, and recently, he’d had quite a few in his inbox. With the time he’d taken off work, he’d also had quite a few moments in his day when he had nothing else to do.

He then paused. He blinked. His lips curved up in a slight smile.

Alfred Jones has subscribed to you on YouTube!

[actualbampot]

Skewed

A/N: I’ve been writing crap fanfiction since the dawn of time and not once have I posted any of it online. Be nice, this is 3/4 years old. If it’s your cup of tea, enjoy or whatever.  What if Raven didn’t save Yang in the ‘No Brakes’ episode? Warnings for mild/moderate torture, blood, YangxNeo, Baked Alaska

The cracking thud of Yang's heavy body dropping to the floor was a sickening sound.

Pain blossomed out over the narrow of her vision followed by a loud whimper. How had this happened again?

Oh yea.. heterochromia

That was Yang's first thought at the time, her clothes, hair and eyes. All of them alternating between sickly sweet colours of pink, chocolate and vanilla, betrayed by that sudden shift of her innocent smile curling into a cruel and knowing smirk.

Those eyes. Had they been really changing?

At first Yang thought the pumping adrenaline was simply making her lose her focus, that she was just imagining it. Her opponent had been landing some lucky shots and throwing her off her game.

But when her face and body began to sting, when her arms were heaving towards the girl and hitting only air, Yang dreadfully began to realize that this pint sized monster was just toying with her, her small frame moving with such fluidity and grace that Yang could only snarl at each dodge and parry, and in response her opponent flashed a toothy smirk solely in mockery.

Come on. Hit me

She’d remained silent throughout, though the words may as well have been written all over her features, and in a flare of rage Yang was carelessly throwing all of her strength behind her hooks. The familiar sight of red bleeding into lilac becoming more apparent with each swing, drawing a silent chuckle from the short girl, hand resting over her lips for effect.

Yang was having trouble recalling the exact moment her body hit the floor. She remembered throwing all her body weight into a jab- so sure that this time it would hit and wipe that smug expression of hers to kingdom come.

However the girl had parried, sending two kicks in quick succession square underneath her chin with enough force that her body collided harshly with the steel wall of the train carriage before unceremoniously hitting the floor.

Stars of pain broke out along Yang's skull and she found herself squinting up at the lights through a dark tunnel of vision. She tried to move but everywhere throbbed in angry and exhausted pain, even Ember Celica felt like dead weights on her arms.

How had this happened again? It was getting harder to recall.

-Oh yea, heterochromia.

'Concentrate Yang. Stay awake'

The familiar click of heels scraping metal flooring approached over her body. The sound trapped a lump of dread in Yang's throat and within moments her dazed but desperate eyes were locked with another pair.

The brawler held in a whimper when the small terror blinked away the brown and cotton candy pink eyes that had been taunting her thus far, replacing the former with a pale, almost eerily transparent silver.

Yang could only watch as her hand lowered down to the handle of that wretched parasol she wielded. Attached to the handle the girl unsheathed a long and deadly pointed needle from the umbrella’s spine, and within moments Yang's expression creased in terror.

The smirk that had been nothing more than a frustrating distraction was gone, replaced by a manically wide grin of intent that only matched the sharpness of her needle.

In an act of self preservation Yang’s body kick started to life, bringing her arm back to throw a last ditch and desperate punch.

It was met with a heeled boot slamming down into her bicep. The heel drove her arm back down to the floor with the harsh point almost puncturing her skin. Yang hissed in pain, and before she could try to retaliate she felt the same searing pain as her opposite arm was cruelly pinned down in a similar fashion.

Above her the girl shifted her weight back onto both heels and carefully squatted lower to Yang's body, only stopping when her hips hovered a few inches from Yang's chest. The weight tore a cry of pain from the huntresses throat and to her horror, Yang watched a faint redness bloom along the girls cheeks, her teeth tentatively catching her lower lip in unadulterated thought.

She was enjoying this.

'Don't- My teammates will- DON'T-'

Pain ripped out along Yang's shoulder and chest and nothing could have suppressed the cry that tore from her throat mid sentence.

Neo buried her needle inch-deep, her eyes lighting up in delight as Yang desperately writhed and twisted underneath her.

Yang's head was swimming, her chest rising and falling fast and dangerously close to hyperventilation. She need to do something. She needed her team. Needed Ruby.

Meanwhile Neo drank in the sight of this towering hot-head coming undone. She sharply tilted her head and twisted the needle in unison, escalating cries of pain deepening the pink blush she already wore.

More.

A small bud of blood rose to the surface of Yang's skin when the needle slid out with ease, red blooming beneath her jacket.

There was no warning when the needle punctured for a second time, and Yang's jaws clenched hard enough to shatter.

'F-FUCK-' leather tight against her mouth cut her cuss short. Neo twisted the needle again, her lips parting and closing wordlessly at the vibrations of Yang's muffled screams against her gloved hand.

This was too much. She couldn't breathe, couldn't find her voice to try crying for help. White began spotting the girls' vision, feeling that at any point her mind would snap like a taught thread.

And this terrifying, beautiful little nightmare was winding the string tight around her fingers, forcing her desired responses from Yang with every single pull and tug.

Yang watched as Neo's small pink tongue darted across her lips, then pursed as if trying to contain her excitement. The needle eased further inside, flesh offering little resistance against its razor sharp point and the girl above her forced her weight down.

More.

Yang's eyes snapped wordlessly wide as needle found its mark, puncturing through the other side of her shoulder into the floor beneath. A shudder coursed up Neo's spine, the sensation of Yang's raw screaming against her palm making her fingers tingle in delight.

What felt like an eternity passed for the younger girl before Neo's leather clad hand finally slid from Yangs mouth, allowing her to heave in agony and panic. Her gulps and coughs of air were close enough to mingle with the hot breeze of her captors short and excited breaths.

The blondes heart felt like it was breaking through her chest in fear as Neo's gloved thumb traced patterns on her soft lower lip, parting her own in unison with Yang's when sliding the needle further down.

Neo drank up her opponents cries with bated breath relishing the heat emanating from her body like a wildfire.

Just as she'd expected, the younger girls aura was weak and untrained and couldn't compensate against intense pain, but in turn it fueled her fiery semblance to its limits. Heat defiantly rolled from her body in waves, those red pools of hurt and rage coupled with heady scent of blood and sweat almost causing Neo to lower her lips and close the few centimeters left between them- Almost.

Her stretched and manic grin continued to push the limits of her blushing cheeks. Abandoning the needle that held Yang down, her hands found the brawlers hot and dampened face, thumbs tentatively catching her tears.

'M-my team...' Yang rasped out between the scorching area that separated their lips 'W-will find you down h-here.'

Neo cocked her multi toned head as if urging her to continue speaking, feeding gloved fingers up through those gorgeous blonde tresses.

'..T-they won’t let you g-get-'

A rip cut her short. Neo sunk tight fists into the helpless girls' hair and tore her body up from the floor.

Yangs agape and wordless scream could never be matched by the girl above her. In a single blink one silver and one chocolate eye lidded over with heavy desire as she slowly dragged Yang's quivering and flushed body up the length of the needle.

Neo could only appear to suppress a moan of delight that would never be heard as she wrenched on that glowing golden hair of hers to brush their lips together.

'..S-stop' The word barely passed as a whisper, repeating brokenly until the plead died out on Yang’s tongue.

The beautiful monster above wrenched her head back, tilting her neck at a sharp angle to expose the length of her throat, one hand freeing her hair to tug her annoying scarf aside before pressing the hot skin flush against her lips and teeth.

Yang felt like she was going to die. The girls mouth left hot trails along her neck, biting and sucking possessively as if proof of her existence wouldn't be validated enough by skewering the girl to the floor like an animal.

Her body shivered despite her semblance, and somehow the pain became a background drone, the only thing she could differentiate between being the stiff rattling in her bones, and Neo's warm lips and breath trailing from her neck to her jaw, her shockingly hot tongue mixing against the dampness clinging to her skin.

Something hot was curling a knot in her stomach, a sensation hiding beneath the surface of the pain.

She was sure she was dying, but her semblance continued to burn life into her heart until her chest felt like fire. Somewhere deep down, Yang knew her body was betraying her.

Neo's weight shifted and the blonde felt the throb of relief when her heels dislodged from her arms and moved away, the shorter girl instead sitting perched on her chest like a throne. It wasn't long before she realized the multicoloured girl had shifted her attention, leaving Yang's skin simmering with the absence of her mouth.

Neo reached behind her to where the girls legs lay motionless. She couldn't feel a hand against her clothes, rummaging until she moved back with a scroll in hand. HER scroll.

The blonde squinted through hazy vision to focus on her sisters face on the screen and somewhere in the background a familiar ringtone was playing. Neo's next smile was one of endearment, her finger toying across the glass where Ruby's mouth was displayed before swiping to accept the incoming call.

Sharp elbows were propped on her chest hard, and the scroll was held to Yang's ear, playful eyes silently observing, Neo's small pearly teeth catching her lower lip to suppress a smile that made Yang feel sick.

'Yang the train is coming close to the end- are you ok? We need you up here! Yang?'

Ruby's voice carried clearly across the speaker and the fiery blonde swallowed down hard to control her breathing.

She kept absolutely silent, the sound of the rickety train should have been the only noise playing on the other side. No. She wouldn't lead Ruby down here, not with Neo waiting and with no way of defending her sister.

The girl above her shifted with a soft tut of disapproval, reaching for her needle and bending.

'Yang are you there?! Yang!'

The moment went white.