#@mediocre-life-span

[wizardlyghost]

looking at my hobbies for something i can put on a resume like hm i really haven't been racking up boastable skills in my free time have i. fuck.

[blackfinchart]

The difference between me and an actual artist is that I hate drawing from reference and actually just drawing at all now that I think of it

Anyway have an NPC that my players unilaterally got horny over despite my best intentions to make her allegiances seems opaque. I can’t remember her name but she was in charge of the local barbarian tribes and was extremely rowdy

[from a long time ago when I used to play more. I mostly DM/GMed cuz that’s the most fun way to play RPGs]

[r-memberme]

jealous | k.m

⎯⎯“I do hate to steal her away, but—oh, you know how it is. She does have a rather short attention span, after all.”

warnings: jealous klaus

It starts innocently enough. Or at least, you thought it did.

A harmless conversation with some stranger—someone inconsequential, someone you’ve already forgotten the name of—until Klaus appears behind you like a shadow stretching across the floorboards.

And, oh, the look on his face.

His smile is the kind that could curdle milk. His eyes flick up and down, assessing the poor soul who has made the terrible, unforgivable mistake of engaging you in conversation. You can practically hear the internal monologue—something along the lines of, What is this pathetic excuse of a man doing breathing in my general vicinity?

But instead of saying that, Klaus settles into something much more dramatic.

“Ah, apologies for interrupting,” he says smoothly, his hand finding the small of your back in a way that is entirely unnecessary. “I do hate to steal her away, but—oh, you know how it is. She does have a rather short attention span, after all.”

Your head snaps toward him. “Excuse me?”

The stranger clears his throat, looking between you both. He must sense the tension thick as molasses because he mutters a quick, “Well, it was nice talking to you,” before hastily escaping.

You stare after him, unimpressed. “Klaus, was that necessary?”

He feigns innocence, blinking down at you like he has no idea what you’re talking about. “Was what necessary?”

You cross your arms. “The theatrics.”

“Theatrics?” He scoffs. “Sweetheart, I have no idea what you mean.”

“You just called me attention deficient in front of a stranger!”

“Well,” he drawls, “I could hardly let him think you were available, could I?”

Your jaw drops. “So you were jealous!”

Klaus visibly bristles. “Jealous?” He says the word like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. “Now, let’s not be ridiculous. I was simply reminding the poor lad of the natural order of things.”

“The natural order—Klaus, I was just talking to him!”

“Yes, yes,” he waves a hand, “I’m sure he thought the same thing—right up until he imagined slipping a ring on your finger and sweeping you away to some dreadfully mundane life of mediocrity.”

You blink at him. “That was a lot of words to say ‘I got jealous and scared him off.’”

He scowls. “You mistake me—I was merely saving you the trouble of rejecting him later.”

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, shaking your head.

“And yet,” he hums, dipping down to brush his lips over your ear, “you still insist on keeping me around.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Damn him. Damn that smug, knowing smirk.

Still, you refuse to let him win this.

“You know, Klaus,” you say, stepping away, turning just enough to glance at him over your shoulder, “if you really weren’t jealous, you wouldn’t care if I went back over there and continued the conversation.”

He freezes.

For the first time, Klaus Mikaelson is silent.

And then—before you can take a single step—he grabs you by the waist, spins you back toward him, and kisses you.

And not just any kiss. A statement. A declaration. A territorial, burning, soul-stealing kiss that leaves no room for argument.

When he finally pulls back, his voice is low, rough against your skin.

“Try that again, love, and see what happens.”

… Yeah. That’s what you thought.

[ckret2]

This is an earnest question - it came up in one of my fics and I'm curious how other people interpreted it.

I know that the Westmore-Backupsmore dichotomy is supposed to be a joke. It's a kids show, the depth of Ford's disappointment and failure has to be made obvious in the span of a few seconds, and hyperbole is funny.

However, it has always pushed my suspension of disbelief that Ford was being evaluated for a place that was supposed to be in-universe Stanford University or something, and when he didn't immediately get a full-ride scholarship to one of the best universities in the country, his alternative was a place with such a poor reputation that it was literally marketed as a backup plan.

I've seen several explanations for this. I've seen it suggested that he was just too arrogant to apply for a wide variety of schools, and by the time he realized he couldn't do Westmore he was scrambling for the only place with a long application window. I've seen it suggested that Backupsmore was actually a pretty good school, and that its poor reputation was unearned and due to classism because it made an effort to cater to lower-income students. The one I personally went for is that his family was skeptical about his academic aspirations, and as a result Filbrick would only pay the application fees for a small handful of schools.

Do you have an explanation?

When the principal calls the family in to tell them that Ford's a genius and has a shot at getting into West Coast Tech, they're all surprised and thrilled—including Ford. This isn't a case of "I just won't bother applying anywhere but WCT." All evidence suggests he didn't apply to WCT at all... since it seems like he'd never even imagined going until then. It sounds like, until then, Ford's post graduation plans really were sailing around the world with Stan.

I think it's the complete opposite of arrogance: I think he didn't apply anywhere because he assumed college just wasn't in the cards for him.

His family's poor. His family's also Jewish, which probably wouldn't actually impact anything in Friendly Disney Channel Show For Children but in real life it would be a reason for a lot of colleges to quietly turn down his application in the 60s. His family probably also knew that Ford was smart, but unless someone else told them, none of them—Ford included—had enough of a basis of comparison for just HOW smart he was.

They probably thought, sure, Ford's a bright kid, but, HOW bright? Yeah, brightest in the school, but that could be a "big fish in a little pond" deal, this doesn't look like the preppiest high school. Bright enough to be accepted into the fanciest schools in the country? They're not sure—until he's told he has a shot at West Coast Tech. Bright enough for his education to be worth the strain on the family that paying for a college education would be? DEFINITELY not... until that education became worth potential millions.

Bright enough for him to apply to the in-universe equivalents of Harvard and Yale and Columbia and Brown etc? Why bother? West Coast Tech was only interested in him when he had an amazing science project, and lost interest when he didn't. His stellar grades clearly didn't matter to them without that science project. No point in applying to the other equivalent schools now.

Or, hell, maybe he did apply—and, without a big flashy in-your-face wow-worthy science project, all they saw was a poor kid who got good grades from a mediocre school. Unless a poor kid is something really special, a 1960s Ivy League college would rather accept middle-or-upper-class kids with equally good grades—those kids will actually pay their tuition fees.

Or maybe they even did accept him! ... But, didn't consider him quite impressive enough for scholarships, and were too expensive without them.

Sure, we know Ford was a super genius—but a college would need some kind of proof he was a super genius rather than just Really Smart, and he didn't have that proof.

He didn't even consider going to college until probably late in the school year (assuming their science fair was probably in the spring). Within a couple of days he suddenly had WCT offered ("you're worthy of the greatest schools in the country!") and snatched away ("nvm you're not worthy"). Now suddenly, possibly for the first time in his life, college is on the table, and he's been told that he could be REALLY successful if he goes to college... but, the big fancy colleges won't take him. What does he do now?

Backupsmore might have been the best school that 1) he thought would take him (or actually WOULD take him), 2) he could still apply to, and 3) his family thought they could afford.

[welcometothejianghu]

Top 10 of 2024

All right! It's time to count down my favorite Asian media things I watched in 2024 -- and sure, most of them came out way earlier than 2024, but whatever, I'm slow. Longer rec posts linked where applicable. If you wind up watching one of these on my say-so, let me know! I'm always happy to know I've been an Influencer (ha ha).

Honorable Mention: Heaven and Hell: Soul Exchange

This was originally going to be on the actual list, but a last-minute contender hopped in and bumped it off. Still, I loved this weird genderfucky body-swap murder mystery romp enough that I couldn't leave it out entirely. This baby sits right at the Hump of Compelling Mediocrity, where when it's good, it's good, and when it's bad, you can't stop thinking about how you'd fix it. I want an American remake of this so Bryan Fuller can rub his butt all over it. [full rec post here]

10. Hotel Del Luna

Did we watch this for Yeo Jingoo? You know it. And yet, we wound up falling for all the characters in this show about a bunch of dead (and one living!) people sending other dead people off to their afterlives. Meandering at times, it falls into a lot of K-drama tropes, but it still manages to pull of something special and occasionally profound.

9. 3 Will Be Free

Ah, here's the last-minute spoiler from Thailand! We showed up expecting something dumb, fun, and horny. What we got was something way smarter than it has any right to be -- but still fun and horny! A bisexual trio of incredibly sexy people (and some fascinating side characters) fall in love while semi-haplessly on the run from a whole bunch of people with guns.

8. Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko!

This goofy tale of dumb lesbians was wacky and fun from start to finish. How long can you keep up a gag about two co-workers each convinced that the other one isn't into her? Exactly the length of this tiny, funny comedy. And as a bonus, there's the manga, which is equally short and sweet. [full rec post here]

7. Story of Yanxi Palace

At 70 episodes, this (rather speculative) historical drama is not for those with short attention spans. Even so, it's a treat for anyone who likes period pieces, lavish costuming, and high-quality acting. Watch as a completely insane young woman leverages her insanity to become the most powerful pretty pretty princess in the Qing Dynasty! [full rec post here]

6. The Rebel

And speaking of well-acted period pieces! At the risk of quoting myself: Do you feel like watching a beautiful man have a terrible day for 43 episodes straight? Then this Republican-Era spy drama is for you. Zhu Yilong bounces off some gorgeous costars in a gripping tale of brave Communist misery. [full rec post here]

5. Legend of Fei

A great example of how a boilerplate YA story about a bunch of teens who save the world from eeeeevil adults can be elevated by leaning in to its inherent sweet, melodramatic goofiness. I wouldn't call it a comedy, but it's a very funny drama held up by delightful characters and charming romances. I have no idea what the plot was, nor do I care. I was too busy watching Yibo smile. [full rec post here]

4 Otoko Meshi

This show is silly. It has a completely preposterous setup: an injured yakuza boss moves in with an unemployed twentysomething, cooks him dinner, and teaches him life lessons. It has all the subtlety of a piano dropped from a great height. All the acting is completely over the top. And yet, it manages to be sincerely heartwarming? This ten-episode food-based comedy is entirely worth the effort you may have to go through to find a way to watch it. [full rec post here]

3. The Spirealm

Yeah, this one grabbed my ass good enough that I've made a whole meta-and-shitpost sideblog (@thirteenthdoor) for it. I will say, though, that the show wouldn't have done it alone -- my love for it is compounded by how I fell even harder for the book it was adapted from. Both of them together tell a gay-ass horror story about love and loss through several terrifying, deadly worlds. [full rec post for the show here; full rec post for the book here]

2. The On1y One

Just ... damn, man. What a piece of art. I was not expecting much out of a Taiwanese BL about two high-school boys falling in love, much less a beautiful, well-written, amazingly affecting tale of complicated family dynamics and gay feelings. It had better get a second season that concludes the story, is all I'm saying. [full rec post here]

1. Kinou Nani Tabeta?

I have now watched significant portions of this ... four times? Because I keep showing it to other people, because it keeps being that good. The slow, cozy, food-centric tale of the daily lives of two aging Japanese gay men makes you feel happy -- but when it rips your heart out, it rips it right out. I get that it's a little Too Real for a lot of people, but oh, it was just what I needed. [full rec post here]

What will 2025 bring? Who can say! I hope it's gay, though.

[xyurishux]

CHAPTER 1 - AS A WHOLE, TOGETHER

Word Count: ~1.7k

Tags: GN!reader, Mentions of family disputes

Summary: You begin to tell Sebastian how deep UrbanShades rabbit hole truly goes, starting with yourself.

Pardon any writing errors, they may happen!

“ oh sweetie, you’re not ugly, society is,”

“So,

When I was younger, life was as normal as can be. I was in mediocre family, it was me, my mom and my dad. I’d only see my mom in the morning, and when I was back from school my dad would be home for dinner. It wasn’t until way later I learned about his job, but that isn’t relevant right now. My dad was a mystery to me, he’s my dad but I didn’t know much to anything about him. I saw him everyday when I got home but it’s was for such a small period of time, did it even count?

Life was so mundane and repetitive. Go to school, pass tests, summer break then restart it all over again. Life was boring but it wasn’t difficult.

I would do anything to be back there…” You paused looking out into the ocean, it was dark you could mistake it for the above, only simply at night. You breathe out from your nose continuing on with your story.

 “Anyways, it was back in September of 2009 when my father got a promotion. Seeing his face 4 to 5 hours per day dwindled down to seeing him once every two weeks or so, usually on Sundays. He became an enigma.

“You see, something I couldn’t see at the time was that as I grew older, his need to be in my life lowered, and sadly, that same fate fell too with my mother by default.

His job already took a toll on their relationship. Only spending 4 to 5 hours with your partner every day over the span of five years isn’t so great.

My mother would see him as much as I did and now, he just wasn’t there. The signs of a falling relationship presented themselves beforehand, but now it was obvious to anyone that the only thing keeping them together was me. At least, for my mom that was the case.

“The house was more silent than it ever was empty…”

You looked to the side with your eyes to see Sebastians full attention on you, perhaps it was the story? Or maybe he didn’t have anything better to do or it might have been the way your voice spoke with full sincerity and no sarcasm. It was like someone else took control but it was undoubtedly you and he was fully enthralled.

Your eyes met and you looked back down at the cold tile as you carried on.

“Ether way, it was in November of that same year where things would shift. My mom would realize the steady money flowing in and at growing amounts. Now you have to understand that my mother isn’t of the suspicious type nor is she a person who comes up with wild conclusions. She was (and still is, I hope) a reasonable and sensible woman. She knew that this wasn’t a simple ‘promotion’, but to know where all this money came from, well…she didn’t have the slightest clue. She didn’t know and she would never know. Well, truly know…

“The first snow started to fall as December began and Winter break freed me from my studying. Shockingly, dad came home for the holidays and New Years. Funny anecdote, I remember getting my first iPhone as a gift from him that year. It was an iPhone 3GS, God the memories…my mother was not pleased in slightest.” You laughed silent tilting your head to the side as your reminisced, it was good and loyal phone…

 “Continuing on, after Christmas as a family and with the family the next day, my parents had the only disagreement I’ve ever witnessed (only a disagreement, it wasn’t enough to count as a fight).

I think it was about 2 am and the only light that was on was the one above the kitchen table. My dad was sitting facing my mother who standing up, the last of the family who came over for the party had finally left. Chip bowls and wine glasses were still scattered on the coffee table, only barely visible by the outside Christmas lights. I watched as my mom tapped her nails against the wooden chair she was partly leaning on as she took a deep breath. I could tell she was tired, exhausted even but I could also tell she had something bugging her and she needed to let it out. I watched them from the darkness that the staircase provided, I was undetectable. I listened to them talk, leaning my upper body to the wooden railing trying not to miss a single word. I don’t remember much; it was about the money at first but it was nothing compared to what my mother said next.”

“Samantha, look- “

“I’m breaking up with you”

“My mother broke up with my father. I sat upon the steps dumbfounded, I didn’t expect that from their conversation but even then, I didn’t know what to expect. The last of the conversation consisted of my father staying silent and staring at the table as my mom talked important matters to him. She told him that she would stay for the New Years and then move in with a friend in an apartment she found. After that she finished the glass of wine my dad poured for her at the start and left the kitchen when he didn’t have anything to add.

I’m pretty sure that night was the only time I saw my dad cry. He was still in love with her, never ever once thinking of ending their relationship. Never ever once thinking of loving another woman.

 Most children would walk down the stairs they sat on and go comfort their weeping father or at least ask if he was okay. But our relationship was so estranged to the point where I felt no reason to go down and comfort him. He simply was just my father, nothing else nothing more.

I watched him cry silently with his head in his hand as I sat on the steps with my legs close to my chest. I sat there for a few more minutes. I don’t know why I sat there watching for so long. Maybe I was intrigued with the sight, it was something new. A man I’ve know all my life was a mystery to me and now the last sight I might ever see of him is him crying his heart out. But soon enough I got tired, I walked back up to my bedroom and fell asleep to noise of the on going shower my mom was taking downstairs.

The next morning felt cold and unbalanced. The floor was cold to the touch and it was actually closer to noon then morning. The hall was silent as I walked down it and saw at the end of it that my mom was packing a suitcase and a large duffle bag. They were both placed on the bed with an equal amount of folded and unfolded clothes thrown around the two. It was enough to be unable to see the white and blue floral comforter underneath (or I remember it to be enough). I walked into the room and as if I didn’t witness the scene at the kitchen table last night I asked, “Are we going somewhere?”

She was so concentrated with her packing that she jumped startled when she heard my voice. With her hand over her heart, she turned to me with a forced smile (I knew that it was) and spoke words that I will never forget.”

“What were they?” Sebastian asked quietly, his full upper body now laying against the desk where you two sorted files on together almost an hour ago.

You smiled, “Well,

“Sweetheart! You scared me there,” She said, her smile faltering, “No, mommy is going somewhere, alone, but not forever. You’ll have to stay with dad for awhile.” She turned her head away as she folded a few pants and placed them into her suitcase. Then she squatted, and I had to look down to see her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and her lashes wet. I felt her hands on my upper arms as she continued to talk, “Mommy, mommy needs to go find herself for a bit, okay? Not for long but mommy needs this…I love you, eternally and always”

She left the same day with kiss on the forehead, her phone number seared into my mind and a “Be good while I’m gone, I’m a single phone call away”

And then I was there, at my door step, cold and watching as my mom entered her friend’s car with one last kiss blown to me. I caught it and placed it onto my cheek as she drove off. Now it was me and my estranged father and a lot of complex emotions I didn’t know how to decipher or begin to understand at the age of ten.”

You finished, pausing to take a breath for a second while also stretching your aching muscles.

“And then what? What does this have to do with us? With me?” Sebastian asked harshly as he raised himself from the desk.

“Give me a second, I need water and a snack, I’m a bit peckish,” you joked, smirking to him, before continuing, “Ether way, we’re barely getting into the meat of the story. I was just explaining how I got stuck with my father. Now will be getting into what he was doing

behind closed doors…”

And we start rolling, ~

@splatting-stampede

[everythingelseisextra]

Treasure The Memory

Part One: Everything Is Fine

Part Two: Commit To The Bit

Part Four: Petty Criminal

Description: A couple days after the hose incident, you find yourself feeling empty, and set off to find Thomas and apologize. Warnings: Language, alcohol Word Count: 2292 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @globetrotter28 @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

Twelve horses. From six in the morning to six at night, you work without stopping. It’s your purpose, your drive, the only reason you have for getting up in the morning. The only reason you eat or drink. There’s an aching kind of emptiness that begins after the car drives away, that makes the time go by slowly while you work through the horses. Heaviness that pushes your muscles to work harder than usual, an odd sense of carrying something. But, still, you put your head down. You have work to do. You don’t have time to fantasize a life beyond what you trudge through. You don’t have time to imagine things had gone differently. 

You don’t.

But on the second day after, the weight is the same. You wake before sunrise and find yourself expecting to see him watching you ride in silence again, observing. You fill buckets and clean stalls and turn out and all the while, the back of your mind stumbles off somewhere, looking for the dawn to break like it did two days ago, like some groundhog day. You were given a splash of color in the long span of gray, and now you can’t forget what it was like. Now you can’t stop yearning for the boldness, the attention. 

That night, you lay in the twin bed shoved into the corner of a tiny room, and you stare at the night sky through the cracked window. Cool air caresses your face, and you sit up to look out. You see only the shadows of the barn and the void of the countryside, all-consuming darkness. Here, you think, is where everyone else’s ghosts come to haunt. Here is where the forgotten come to waste the rest of their lives. Here is where I will live, and here is where I will die. 

No. 

You stand up and walk the two steps to your wardrobe, pulling your clothes out and scrambling to put them on. Whatever you plan, whatever strange scheme, will present itself to you as you move. You can’t be like this forever. You can’t keep being fine, fine, fine, until you’re ready to go and all you can look back on is mediocrity. You can’t keep going out and waiting for someone to ask you who you are, what you’re about, whether you’re okay. 

You need to be the one to ask. 

You rush out to the barn. This late at night, no cabs will come to you, not when you’re so far out. Wired, almost manic with desperation, you halter your quickest horse, a mare named Secret, and forgo the saddle to ride bareback. The night is still young, and if you get there soon enough, get there fast enough, then maybe, maybe you’ll find him. Gripping your mare with your thighs, you cluck and urge her forward, loosening your reins and pushing your calves into her sides. She shoots off, and suddenly, you’re coursing through the night, the wind whipping your hair, the sound of hooves pounding the only thing you can hear. 

The first few minutes, exhilaration runs through you, and you breathe in the wild rush of the darkness. Then you feel the cold, and the dryness waters your eyes, and your skin grows red and chapped from the constant battering of the wind. And still, Secret gallops, and you cling to her back and duck your head and clutch her mane in your shaking hands. 

City lights blink softly at you through the mist of early night. You sit back and talk quietly to the mare, bringing her from a gallop to a canter, then to a trot, then, finally, to a heaving, breathless walk. Her sweat seeps into your pants, her fur covers the inside of your thighs, and your own sweat drips down your forehead. Still, you walk on, her hooves clattering on the stone streets. Eyes glint at you from alleyways. The city murmurs its quiet song. And, you, an interloper walking boldly into an unknown territory, hoping. 

You remind yourself: hope is a thing with teeth. 

The Garrison stands solemn in the darkness. The lights inside silhouette figures moving, dancing, banging their hands on tables and chairs. Tonight is Saturday night. Closing your eyes, you steady your breathing. Cold penetrates your bones and you find yourself trembling, coming and going in waves. You run your fingers through your hair, like it could be tamed, and slowly slip off the horse. You find an old hitching rail a few blocks away and tie her, offering her a bucket of water. You leave her there, in the dark side of the alleyway. You won’t be long. 

When you open the double doors to the Garrison, you’re flooded with golden light and feral singing and warmth. You still tremble, but less so. The chills are chased away by the faultless sense of revelry in the air. You push through the crowded sitting area as though fighting your way down an overgrown path. Limbs swing into your way, people stamp their feet, and a rousing chorus starts up. 

You stumble through to the bar and lean on it, facing towards the seating area. Men on tables, men dancing, men drunk and throwing up in buckets. Men howling like wolves, men grabbing their women, men cheering each other on. No sign of the man you came here looking for. Your heart sinks. 

The barmaid laughs from behind the bar while she walks towards you. She leans over, smiling faintly. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m—” Your voice doesn’t carry; she leans closer to listen. “I’m looking for Thomas Shelby.”

She points immediately to a slim door, closed, but that opens into a small, octagonal room. “I wouldn’t interrupt.” 

You hesitate. “Who’s he with?”

“His brothers.”

“Thank you.” You nod to her, then push through the drunken party to stand in front of the door. You breathe in whiskey and cigarette smoke and body odor, and breathe out. Then, cautiously, you knock. 

If there’s a response, you don’t hear it. Throwing caution to the wind, you place your hand on the handle, take another breath, and push it open. 

Three pairs of eyes stick to you; two angry, one surprised. You step inside and close the door behind you. Silence, so thick it seems to buzz with the energy of their gazes. From their seats behind the table, they look you up and down, and you’re suddenly in a spotlight, caught in the blindness. No one speaks. 

The man on Thomas’ left breaks it. “Who the fuck are you?”

Your eyes drop and you mouth the words; no one.

“I said,” The man stands awkwardly, scooting out from behind their table and approaching you. He’s considerably taller than you, leaning down to loom over, speaking far too close to your face. You catch the smell of whiskey and beer on his breath, and your eyes lock onto bits of food stuck in his mustache. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Enough, Arthur.” Thomas leans back in his seat, arms loosely crossed, a cigarette in one hand. 

“I thought you hadn’t taken a woman since—”

“I haven’t.”

“Is this the one that sprayed you with the hose?” The man on his right grins at you. “My kind of girl.”

“Wouldn’t let someone spray me with a hose.” Arthur steps back, though you keep yourself shrunken away, a little too overwhelmed by what you’ve stepped into to unravel yet. “I’d knock ‘em out and spray ‘em meself.” 

“That’s enough.” Thomas stands and walks out from behind the table, brushing past you to open the doors. The riotous sound of the bar fills the small space again, and you step away from the door, trying to get away from it. “John, Arthur, go join them.” 

“No, I want to hear what hose-girl has to say.” The man still sitting, presumably John, stays sitting, eyes going straight to Thomas’. “I’m staying.”

“John.” Thomas’ head tilts slightly, his eyes flicking to you, then back. “Get out.”

John looks at him a moment longer, smile fading, then shrugs, stands, and walks out. Arthur follows. Thomas closes the door after them, and you close your eyes, relieved by the quiet. 

“Sit down,” Thomas says. You hear his footsteps move past you, then the sound of him sitting back down. After a moment, he adds; “Please.”

You open your eyes. His hands lay on the table in front of him, his cigarette between his ring and pinkie finger. His dark hair sits as though he styled it, and you become suddenly aware of your appearance, the wildness of your hair, the goose pimples still on your skin, the slight shiver of your body, the sweat dried on your temple. His eyes are on you, expectant, and so you nod and sit on the other side of the table as he asks. Your gaze remains downcast.

In silence, he pours you a small glass from the bottle of amber whiskey, and you take it, slowly sipping the smooth liquid. Once you place it back down, and settle into your seat, he speaks. 

“If you came to ask for forgiveness, it’s already given.” His voice rolls off his tongue, a plodding sort of sentence that you can’t help but get wrapped into. “Past in the past. We can go our separate ways.”

You look up at him, head still tilted down, and you toy with the rim of the glass, running your fingers along it. Your voice is quiet, not quite even enough. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.” 

“No. When you said I didn’t know who you were, what did you mean?” You look back down, unable to hold your gaze steady with his for long. 

He rolls his shoulders and sits back, hands still laid across the table. “I’m the lead of the Peaky Blinders.”

“The razor blades.”

“Aye.” He inclines his head to you.

“And you guys do… what?”

“What needs to be done.” 

“That’s very vague.”

“We’re a group of well-intended people who do very bad things to achieve our goals.”

You smile faintly. “I’m supposed to be scared of you.”

“Most people are.” His eyes search your face. “You’re not.”

You shrug. “Truth is, I’m scared of everyone. I’m so used to it that it doesn’t make you special.”

He brings his cigarette to his lips, takes a slow drag, and exhales a plume of smoke. “So you are scared of me.”

You take another sip of the whiskey, hoping to avoid answering. Your body shivers, despite the warmth of the drink inside of you, burning as it goes down. 

“Smart thing to do now is go home, feed those horses of yours, and forget you pointed that bloody hose at me.” He sits up, leaning towards you. The space between you shrinks with the intensity of his gaze, and you sit back, meeting his eyes. “No need to get mixed up in the shit I live with.”

“I don’t want to forget it.” Something about him sparks some bravery in you, helps your voice come smoothly, helps your mind connect with your body. Or maybe that’s the whiskey. “It might’ve been… unfortunate, but it was the most fun I’ve had in— well, in years.”

“Treasure the memory, and get out while you can.” 

You look down. This conversation is not going the way you’d hoped. You play the last cards you have. “I won’t sell you Draco, but I’ll let you ride him.”

Silence. Your gaze shifts upwards. One of his eyebrows is slightly raised, his cigarette paused halfway to his lips. 

“What do you want?” He gestures at you, still holding the cigarette. “Why do you want this so badly?”

“I don’t know. I guess I want something different. I don’t want… to die in a house I feel trapped in. I don’t want to—”

“I’m not here to play games.” He stands, starts for the door. He stops, looks over his shoulder at you. “I’m not here to listen to girls who don’t know what they want.”

He opens the door and begins out. Sound rushes in, a deluge that almost catches you off guard and drowns you. Instead, you stand and project your voice. “Thomas.”

He pauses, looks back at you, slowly closes the door. His eyes are cold, calculating, a glint in them that tells you he’s teetering on a line between anger and amusement.

“I want freedom,” you say, finding some strength to your voice. “I want to feel like I’m more than my past, and more than the money I have. I want to have people care about me. I want to not be alone anymore.”

I want you.

“And,” you let out a short breath. “I want a do-over. I want you to come ride with me. Without spraying you with a hose.”

“A do-over,” he repeats, one hand still on the doorknob. 

“Yes.”

He considers you, blue eyes sharp, but not as cold as before. “Tomorrow morning, then.”

“Okay.”

His gaze falls to the door beside him, and, almost imperceptibly, he takes a breath. “You ready?”

You nod and walk forward, moving towards the door. 

“Wait.” He steps in front of you, blocking your way. You stop short, a foot away, and your eyes trail over him, marking his positioning, ready to dart away if needed. 

He takes off his coat jacket and holds it out to you. “Wear it on your way back. Don’t need you getting sick.” 

You take it, and offer him a small smile. “Not so scary.”

“Don’t decide yet.” He opens the door and the world floods back to you. As you walk out, you hear him say, “Goodbye, No One.”

[lakesbian]

twig faq to answer all of the asks i got regarding my liveblog

Q: holy shit twig turned out bad huh A: yeah

Q: should i read twig? A: no. it's bad

Q: what about the parts of twig that were good though? i noticed that there were parts of twig that seemed awesome before everything suddenly exploded A: okay let me elaborate. the first ~13 arcs of twig are really really endearing when they're focusing on the lambs. when they're being about the lambs, they range anywhere from "cute" to "extremely fun" to "genuinely super compelling" to "shit that made me cry (positive)." we have high points such as:

12yo sylvester lambsbridge fumbles 3 people with crushes on him harder than anyone's ever fumbled in their life in the span of like 7 hours maximum

sylvester lambsbridge does transhet biopunk brokeback mountain

wildbow writes rose thorburn but if she were a hardass trans girl (she's the one doing transhet biopunk brokeback mountain with sy)

gordon dies and lillian copes by taking some of sy's drug that gives him turbo-adhd

helen is there

sylvester lambsbridge experiences what i earnestly believe to be one of the cruelest things wildbow has ever done to any of his protagonists

lots of other stuff, i'm abbreviating here

but the reason i say the first ~13 arcs of twig are good when they're focusing on the lambs is that twig is prone to slogging, strikingly mediocre fight scenes--sy can't fight for Shit, but wildbow still insists on describing, like, sylvester trying & failing to hit someone with a wooden plank with the same gratuitous, lengthy detail as taylor inventing a spider-based saw trap for someone. and unlike the spider-based saw trap, it's not interesting to read about. the arcs take an episodic format, and what this means is that virtually every arc goes on way too long, contains at minimum 40% more tediously detailed fight scenes than are actually necessary, and then leaves you feeling jarred when wildbow inevitably timeskips to the next arc just as the prior one was really getting into the emotional swing of things. i also have a (quite possibly subjective?) sense that twig wasn't as well-developed and thought-out as, e.g., pact, and oftentimes the setting conceit (1900s biopunk frankenstein-y british empire) doesn't feel like it's hitting quite as hard as it should.

for all of these reasons, i wouldn't have rated the first ~13 arcs of twig any more generously than in the 3.5-4 star range while i was reading them, but that's still an overall rating of good. i wouldn't still be thinking about some of the things from the first ~13 arcs of twig if they weren't overall good. if all of twig was the same quality as the first ~13 arcs, i would recommend it to people who i feel like could tolerate the pacing issues & would feel reading about the lambs was worth it.

but. BUT. BUT-

Q: so, twig turns out really bad, huh? what went wrong? A:

it is not all the same quality as the first 13 arcs. it turns out really bad the last 7 arcs are actually atrocious

the first thing that comes to mind if you ask me "what went wrong with twig" is that wildbow tries to write a trans woman as one of the main characters, and he does it badly. miss jessie ewesmont, my new favorite girl whom we need to get the fuck out of a wildbow novel. i think she was written extremely well--and in fact one of the top 2 characters in the book--prior to wildbow trying to handle her coming out. i'd even say the foreshadowing for it was perfectly well done and enjoyable. but after she comes out, during the last 7 arcs of the book?

you know how trans women are often victims of being treated as undervalued, disposable girlfriends, who are expected to coddle & cater to their partner's every whim while receiving effectively nothing in return? and you know how trans women are often treated as if they should be grateful for receiving (what is often less than) the literal bare minimum? and you know how trans women are frequently treated as if it's completely implausible for anyone to find them genuinely attracted or desirable, let alone worth pursuing or putting effort into?

yeah, the last 7 arcs of twig contain untold tens of thousands of words of wildbow reinventing all of that from first principles. this is a subjective experience, but it genuinely felt worse to read than amy dallon. at one point, the Disposable Trans Girlfriend in question literally says "i appreciate you not killing me" after she gets stabbed in her sleep by her boyfriend, sylvester. it's beyond parody. i've never said "WE HAVE TO HIT WILDBOW WITH HAMMERS" more in my goddamned life than while reading the last 7 arcs of twig. Transmisogyny Fucking City. it's a completely unforgivable and miserable reading experience.

and speaking of unforgivable and miserable reading experiences involving bigoted handling of a main character...onto Item No. 2 on the list of writing decisions that ruin twig! the ableism.

wildbow wants all of the lambs to--due to being ill-fated human experiments--have set expiration dates. one of the Main Points hanging over the entire narrative of twig is that every single lamb is, in all likelihood, going to die of complications from the way they've been experimented on before they're even twenty. two of them do die from those complications before the story is even halfway over: jamie's entire mind & sense of being is regularly taken out of his body, and one day, the doctors can't get it back in. gordon is a ~15yo with the heart problems of an elderly man, and they kill him while he's still young enough to make one of his last acts begging to see his dog one last time. it's good. it's tragic, it's interesting.

the problem is that wildbow's decision for how to depict sylvester starting to experience end-stage complications is to...turn sy into an ableist horror movie trope villain. sy hears The Devil telling him to kill his friends, and he just fuckin' blacks out and then comes to like "oh no...what's all this blood on my hands." i'm talking "mental illness is a Demon that can Possess You and make you an Evil Serial Killer" levels of ableist writing. like wildbow straight up turns sy into the joker from the movie joker. it's like that one "insaaaaynenene....assyyylum..... cray-ay-zeee...Insaayne" tiktok, you know the one. it's why he stabs his disposable trans girlfriend.

and it's baffling because: 1. wildbow wrote worm. you'd expect better from him when it comes to writing mental illness. but his skills apparently stop short of being able to depict a character with psychosis without making it cartoonishly ableist. but also, 2., sy doesn't only start becoming mentally ill at the end of arc 13! the previous arcs do very clearly establish that he's extremely codependent with the other lambs and needs continuous support to avoid experiencing life-threatening mental health episodes. he experiences dissociation, he struggles with severe memory loss, he acts erratically, he has self-injurious tendencies, he hallucinates, he talks to himself in public. prior to the start of arc 14, all of that is written with perfectly amenable levels of nuance and empathy towards sy. i wouldn't describe it as glowing representation, or anything, but it's by no means egregious.

but after arc 13? change of plans. now he's the joker from the movie joker, and we have to watch while his friends chain him to an armchair so he doesn't go around randomly cutting peoples hands off in a murderous fugue state.

it's bad. it's extremely bad to read.

the third item regarding how/why twig becomes terrible is a lot more simple to summarize: it becomes almost entirely about the previously mentioned sloggy fight scenes as opposed to about the lambs. and when it is about the lambs, it's often terrible to read anyway, due to the aforementioned issues with the handling of protagonist sylvester lambsbridge and his disposable trans gf. the plot becomes incoherent and uninteresting to the point where it's not even worth the effort of attempting to summarize how or why. everything that made twig good more or less entirely disappears from the story, and things that make it fucking awful are added.

Q: okay but lets say i have something unfixably wrong with me and i want to read twig anyway. wheres the best stopping point? arc 13? A: yeah it's arc 13. it's not a satisfying stopping point at all though. nor is the rest of twig prior to it really worth it. just don't waste your time. go read a good book, like pact, instead

Q: what the fuck is up with helen? A: :)

[ovaryacted]

Randomly ranting about AI.

The thing that’s so fucking frustrating to me when it comes to chat ai bots and the amount of people that use those platforms for whatever godamn reason, whether it be to engage with the bots or make them, is that they’ll complain that reading/creating fanfic is cringe or they don’t like reader-inserts or roleplaying with others in fandom spaces. Yet the very bots they’re using are mimicking the same methods they complain about as a base to create spaces for people to interact with characters they like. Where do you think the bots learned to respond like that? Why do you think you have to “train” AI to tailor responses you’re more inclined to like? It’s actively ripping off of your creativity and ideas, even if you don’t write, you are taking control of the scenario you want to reenact, the same things writers do in general.

Some people literally take ideas that you find from fics online, word for word bar for bar, taking from individuals who have the capacity to think with their brains and imagination, and they’ll put it into the damn ai summary, and then put it on a separate platform for others so they can rummage through mediocre responses that lack human emotion and sensuality. Not only are the chat bots a problem, AI being in writing software and platforms too are another thing. AI shouldn’t be anywhere near the arts, because ultimately all it does is copy and mimic other people’s creations under the guise of creating content for consumption. There’s nothing appealing or original or interesting about what AI does, but with how quickly people are getting used to being forced to used AI because it’s being put into everything we use and do, people don’t care enough to do the labor of reading and researching on their own, it’s all through ChatGPT and that’s intentional.

I shouldn’t have to manually turn off AI learning software on my phone or laptop or any device I use, and they make it difficult to do so. I shouldn’t have to code my own damn things just to avoid using it. Like when you really sit down and think about how much AI is in our day to day life especially when you compare the different of the frequency of AI usage from 2 years ago to now, it’s actually ridiculous how we can’t escape it, and it’s only causing more problems.

People’s attention spans are deteriorating, their capacity to come up with original ideas and to be invested in storytelling is going down the drain along with their media literacy. It hurts more than anything cause we really didn’t have to go into this direction in society, but of course rich people are more inclined to make sure everybody on the planet are mindless robots and take whatever mechanical slop is fucking thrown at them while repressing everything that has to deal with creativity and passion and human expression.

The frequency of AI and the fact that it’s literally everywhere and you can’t escape it is a symptom of late stage capitalism and ties to the rise of fascism as the corporations/individuals who create, manage, and distribute these AI systems could care less about the harmful biases that are fed into these systems. They also don’t care about the fact that the data centers that hold this technology need so much water and energy to manage it it’s ruining our ecosystems and speeding up climate change that will have us experience climate disasters like with what’s happening in Los Angeles as it burns.

I pray for the downfall and complete shutdown of all ai chat bot apps and websites. It’s not worth it, and the fact that there’s so many people using it without realizing the damage it’s causing it’s so frustrating.

[odium-amare]

50 Shades of Manacled (Honest Review)

Since the rise of fame for this (previously a Dramione fanfiction) body of work, thanks to the fanfare of TikTok and social media, I decided to give this story a shot. Disclaimer: This was my first Dramione story, and I’m not heavily invested in the Harry Potter universe. However, I’m always open to trying new things.

‘Manacled’ was treated like the second coming of Jesus. I could see through reviews, videos, and Reddit that many hearts underwent many powerful, life-altering transformations.

My curiosity was piqued. The fanfic had 77 chapters and a total of 370,515 words. I managed to finish the story. 

Normally, I wouldn’t do an honest critique of fanfiction because, like many, I prefer to treat fanfic as fanfic. Seeing as how the author has endeavored to make a pretty penny out of it and revised the title as ‘Alchemised,’ this work of fiction is now free real estate for me to comb through with my thoughts.

Broken down into 3 parts:

The Good/Okay-ish 

If you’ve read about anything related to this story, then you will know that it contains rape; a lot of rape. Unexpectedly, I had no problems with the non-consensual aspect of this fic (which many people did and I understand.) I have no morality issues with non-consent between two MCs in general in a fictional setting. It’s even a guilty pleasure, and I thought Manacled incorporated this dark concept well into the plot.  On another note, I see people excusing Draco and his actions because he “had no choice” because of so and so.

Firstly, Draco was deliberately portrayed as overpowered - bordering on Gary-Stu levels of abilities. Voldemort, on the other hand, was written as a weakened and dying cripple.

There is always a choice and as another reviewer pointed out, Draco chose to rape. Let’s not skirt around that.

The incorporation of the rape and breeding causes was written out to make the torture porn even torture porn-ier.

The writing knows how to grip your attention and keep you reading. It was entertaining enough, and this was probably why the fic has kept the attention span of a lot of readers.

Narcissa was one of the few characters that was interesting. Her and Lucius’ presence added seasoning to the fic. The idea of her ‘spirit’ inside her portrait looking out for the people she cared about was nice.

Ginny was the best character. She’s flawed (like anyone else) but unlike our titular heroine, Ginny was likable and…owns up to her shit, and doesn’t gaslight those around her. Then she does the single best thing towards the end of Manacled. One of the few parts of the story that didn’t make me want to gouge my eyes out like Astoria did with Hermione. More on Ginny later. 

The Mediocre/Bad

The setup of the bleak and dismal atmosphere was well done - at first. You then realize the bleak and dismal atmosphere is increasingly layered with misery, macabre, grotesque, and affliction every single chapter just for the sake of it. It got heavy-handed and corny fast. Eventually, it came off as if you gave black-eyelinered Bella Swan a Word document and a keyboard to write.

The author loves these words and phrases:

‘Her throat tightened’

‘Thin smile’

‘Smirk,’ ‘Sneer’

‘Bitter smile,’ ‘Bitter’

‘Rage’

Other repetitive words/phrases you’ll have to read at least three times a chapter.

The author also loves to drill down the fact that Hermione is having a panic attack, mental breakdown, or schizophrenic episode at least once a chapter. You will have to read detailed articles about the ins and outs of Hermione crying/wailing/sobbing. Excessive and tedious essays of her every waking thought and activity. It’s rather impressive.  I like to think I’m an empathetic person, but if you end up making me want to get a shovel and bury a character for crying, you’re probably doing something wrong.

The story has three parts. Part 1 which set the present scenery - done alright. But then all that skid down the ski slopes (level difficulty: very steep)  the moment the flashbacks started. The author thought it was a good idea to format the flashbacks as 38 chapters in the middle. There were indeed flashbacks, info dump and even filler. As I expected, there was no way this long-winded fanfic could content itself with only one epilogue; there were three epilogues. 

Why was the fic so egregiously long? Because there’s an avalanche of redundant context, purple prose, and exposition/journalistic essays about Hermione’s panic attacks and tears. The despairing torture porn has all the subtlety of a car crash. The writing was questionable, and this would’ve been bearable…if I didn’t want to slaughter the main characters. So, this takes me to my next part - The Horrendous.

The Horrendous

Hermione is similar to your run-of-the-mill YA heroine. It’s like indulgent, fast food. The heroine was the perfect recipe for self-absorption, martyr complex, a perpetual victim (the war doesn’t excuse this because I’ll get to it,) obtuseness and hypocrisy. In every single other scene, she obstinately refuses to listen to reason. She zigzags between moping, feeling sorry for herself, and doing something stupid because she’s thick in the head. (Exhibit A: Foraging scenes. Exhibit B: Makes 100 ‘lie’ promises to people and throws herself into danger because of reasons.)

The author insists Hermione’s not supposed to be a saint, but she sure goes out of her way to depict Hermione as this Saint Theresa-like character. Otherwise, the cheapened, demonic portrayal of other male and female characters sans Draco wouldn’t have been necessary.  When things don’t go Hermione’s way and predictably, end up disastrous - she falls back into moping and feeling sorry for herself.

She has airs about morality, but then creates bombs that kill hundreds/thousands of people to save her boyfriend - in the name of true love. She has no problems being self-serving when it suits her or killing others for that matter. But of course, she’s against the evil-devil-schevil Voldemort and whatever ‘bad guys’ being evil-devil-schevil cause they’re the antagonists and she’s the Saint Theresa protagonist. It’s cyclical, it’s old and it’s exhausting.

To clarify more about the depiction of the side characters that are not our titular hero & heroine, all of Hermione’s canon friends like Harry, Ron, etc were portrayed as theatrical, out-of-character demons. See, these buffoon caricatures should have listened to poor, pitiful Hermione (because plot) and because of the 8.2 billion people on Earth, Saint Hermione is the only one with common sense.  They hated Jesus because he told them the truth. Sorrows and prayers.

Astoria - your residential, obligatory Regina George - the foil to Saint Jesus Hermione. Naturally, she was written as slipshod, rage bait for the readers to have another female to hate, crow and shrill once her head was sliced off. No, literally. The nature of how her character was written was so cartoonishly absurd, the blonde cheerleader from your early 2000s rom-com was Shakespearean compared to Manacled’s Astoria.

There was an attempt to make the plot complex. That fell short when the deux-ex-machina moments, weird plotholes and explanations made zero sense. I took a look at the author’s blog, and there was a post on how she confirmed Hermione rationalizes everything she does. That makes sense. I can see that the author too, likes to rationalize everything she writes and any critique she receives, so I’m sure all her plotholes made sense inside her head.

As for our edgy, Death Eater boyfriend - He’s a sociopathic murderer. But at least he has that self-awareness. Somewhat. His full-time job is glaring in ‘rage,’ ‘sneering,’ or killing everyone and anyone that’s not Saint Hermione. Sometimes, he’s horny and ‘pushes himself’ into Hermione. His part-time job is ‘looking at Hermione possessively.’ But you know. The girlies eat that up, and obviously, that shit sells.

More on Ginny. What a finale. What an ending for Voldemort and so fitting that it’d be the person you least expect to finish off the major antagonist. By the end of the novel; she is the only sensible and badass character who tries to warn her dumb friend from running off with the wicked, bad boy, but naturally, the dumb friend doesn’t listen. Oh well. 

In conclusion: The main characters were insufferable. And therefore, I didn’t enjoy the story. In the author’s defense, she did mention a few times that the characters’ actions were irredeemable themselves. A happy ending wouldn’t have been realistic. 

With the atrocities both Draco and Hermione committed exactly like the antagonists, they should’ve been killed off as well. 

[thearchercore]

nah this race really showed who the real chirlies are and who are the fake ones only using him for their fanfictions like yall will never see me putting down charles and especially when he alr is his own biggest critic and puts himself down so much i would defend him with my life

i saw a lot of takes online, and don't want to engage with certain charles fans who turned on him and started openly criticizing him after one mediocre quali performance (after 7 consecutive front rows, but anyways...)

i think charles' honesty is such an amazing trait, he does not bullshit anyone. when he messes up, he admits he did a bad job. he owes up to it. you could see in the ferrari post quali vid where he said he "did a bad job" like 6 times in span of 30 seconds. even fred is always defending charles and says his biggest problem is being his own biggest critic ever since his rookie sauber year.

certain drivers don't have the same trait and rather come up with excuses when they underperform which can cause a bit of pr crumble because there will be many opinions about their performance and them not being 100% transparent can open up space for discussion, speculation and even misinformation.

so in charles' case, he says he did a bad job, because he thinks so, and owes up to it, and certain individuals take it literally and use it as an evidence that he's "washed" and "fumbled".

it's very unfortunate, because calling charles any of these things when he built himself from the ground up after the mess that was sf23, and hasn't placed outside of top 5 since AUGUST, is a consistency stat that certain other drivers simpy don't have.

[ramblebramblefun]

Bakugou Katsuki lived his life by a scorched earth policy. He left all his bridges burning behind him on his way to the top, and now that he’s there, he’s eyeing a long, long fall.

Because the thing about being at the top is that there is nowhere to go but down.

Down, down, down, like the rest of his graduating class. Within the span of five years, death, forced retirement and what had to be a fucking manufactured scandal have all but eradicated the heroes that Ground Zero graduated with.

The reporters keep asking him to make a fucking comment but Ground Zero never lets them finish the question.

Time goes on.

The top ten empties, refills. Rearranges itself and plays the system. Fucks around and finds out.

Katsuki still doesn't watch the news, but he takes to searching up the names of his old classmates to see what's become of them.

There's fewer and fewer names to check on, and if it were any other class an investigation would be opened into the attrition rate but fuck 3-A, right?

It’s got to be a fucking conspiracy.

It's just him and Freezerburn left soon, the latter still sitting pretty at number five and like hell is anybody that consistent.

Being number one is easy. You just have to be better than the next guy.

Being number five exactly for multiple years running, on the other hand, is some kind of bullshit. Like hell is Todoroki consistently both outperforming whoever’s number six and underperforming number four. The extras in those positions are always changing, you’d need some kind of spreadsheet keeping track of everyone’s strengths and weaknesses in order to calculate their-

Not that Katsuki fucking cares about Todoroki’s theoretical statistical analyses of his opponents. Or the stuck-up bastard himself. Todoroki can go to hell.

He used to want to be number one, too. Didn’t matter if it was just to prove a point to his old man, he used to have ambition.

Frezzerburn’s refusal to advance beyond fifth place had certainly seemed to drive the man that was Endeavour mad. That was a kind of winning, Katsuki had supposed. Problem is, Todoroki kept that shit up even after his old man kicked the bucket and he didn't need to be mediocre any more.

Katsuki had been hoping for a real rival, once Endeavour was in the ground. Drove him mad when he didn't get it. PR team reamed him out for that one, but fucking-

They don’t get it. No one fucking gets it.

Bakugou Katsuki keeps watch at the top of his fortress year on year, but not one hero comes to challenge him. He watches them all squabble at the base for the number two spot instead, talking shit like second place means a goddamned thing.

Fuckers. At least Endeavour fucking tried.

Freezerburn, son of the man who never gave up, does not. Try, that is. The fucking bastard.

Doesn't even put up a fight now that Katsuki’s out of the running.

Because Katsuki’s out of the running. He’s not a fucking hero anymore. He’s out. He’s done. Not by fucking choice, but them’s the fucking breaks when you blow the fucking whistle.

Turns out there really was a conspiracy against class 3-A.

[kawaiibarty]

uhh the dartagan thingy🙏🙏🙏

rosekiller or bartylus, or just any barty ship

bartylus headcanons:

started off as a fwb thing. regulus wanted to explore his sexual identity with someone he trusted and barty... barty is a horndog okay?

i really like the idea of one sided bartylus but i can never decide on whose part the infatuation is.

if it were regulus he would love in silence. he wouldn't say anything because he'd want to protect their friendship and the situation would end as quietly as it started. he didn't want to lose someone he loved so dearly for something as mediocre and fleeting as an emotion. he could end up dying alone but if barty was happy than so was he. regulus would die for barty

if it were barty he would love with rage and passion. he'd do anything for regulus to notice him, and maybe regulus did but it seemed he'd never acknowledged it. he loved potter more anyway, right? he'd make sure he was the one who would be there for regulus and he didn't care how much it affected any of regulus's other relationships, he needed regulus to know that he was the only one who could love him the way that he did. regulus could try and distance himself all that he wanted but barty would always find a way to see him just one last time. barty would kill for regulus

rosekiller headcanons:

bonded over their desire to murder their parents. while regulus was an apologist and tried not to badmouth his parents (this was when he was still too young to recognise the abuse for what it was) barty and evan found comfort in the knowledge that they weren't the only children in the world who had a shitty life.

barty learned resilience from evan and evan learned patience from barty

i believe your best traits are ones shared in bonding with people who help you love yourself, and they helped each other realise that loving yourself, and other people, is possible (even if its in their own fucked up, non-conservative way)

their romance was gradual and took years for them to come to terms with. the problem with being born into conservative families is that you find it difficult to realise the feelings that you have are not evil.

barty was the first person (that wasn't pandora) to tell evan that he was proud of him for his achievements

evan was the first person to tell barty that he was loved since his mother had passed.

they fought for each other.

bartylily:

an unassuming relationship borne out of boredom and shared knowledge of medieval diseases.

they dated briefly, less than 3 months but they were the It Couple.

lily showed off her hot boyfriend at every chance that she got just to rub it in james's face that she COULD and WOULD date WHOEVER she wanted WHENEVER she wanted. barty was just basking in the attention and reveling in the hot and angry stares from sirius and james. especially james. because james is hot. no. he's not. he's a stinky gryffindor (lily is the only non-stinky gryffindor)

they were fifteen and incredibly stupid

do i hear pregnancy scare?????

no real romance. just for shits and giggles

pulled the most insane pranks and the marauders got jealous real quickly.

broke up via fake argument through howlers sent over the span of 2 weeks because they were bored.

remained good friends, surprising everyone.

deathstar/bitchkiller whatever you wanna call it:

midnight hookup after a gryffindor party where everyone got sloshed out of their minds. really not much to say here but the gossip

oh the

TEA

for weeks after that. they definitely fake dated for at least a week or three 👀 for the gossip okay??? those two love being in the limelight.

sexy estranged washout x sexy estranged washout ???? the TEA

sunkiller:

some more hookups????

my sideysenses are tingling and they're telling me they hatefucked at least seven times

they could never last in a relationship, let's be so fr. they're too alike

they're too different

they're too sexy for each other

oh and they both like regulus

they hatefucked because they both liked regulus

other than that, chill vibes ig. they did zaza together maybe twice. they apologised profusely then.

that's about it. like and subscribe for me i mean more.

[gartenofbanny]

Loo Loo Land is the second episode of Helluva Boss and is in my opinion the episode where everything started to go downhill for this series. It was the first episode that was actually emotional, but the way it handles the overall plot is mediocre at best. So today, I'm going to discuss why it's the most overrated episode in Helluva Boss as well as why it's redundant.

Rushed Character Development

Loo Loo Land rushed Octavia's character development and her relationship between Stolas as well as Stolas' relationship with Octavia. It didn't rush Stolas' overall development because he's a character who isn't defined by a single relationship, unlike Octavia.

It's revealed around the time of the episode's release that, Stolas having an affair with Blitzo led to Octavia questioning whether or not Stolas would leave her with him. Before that time Stella and Stolas were at least neutral with each other since Octavia says "When I was a kid and my parents didn't hate each other" so around Loo Loo Land's release, Stella wasn't retconned into the shitty character she is currently. So before Stolas met Blitzo they were a functional family, but after Stolas met Blitzo they are now dysfunctional and Stolas was the cause of that.

So when Stolas and Octavia talk, he promised her that he wouldn't leave her behind and that he loves her and she essentially forgives him for what he did. This was all done in the span of 1 minute and 20 seconds and I gotta ask why was this development so fucking rushed?

Stolas literally ruined his family's life and Octavia just forgives him after he made a promise that wasn't even kept later on. That's just very fast-paced and rushed there's literally no way a 17-year-old would forgive a father for that in reality. In order to make this sort of long-term just have Octavia be skeptical of Stolas' promise and spiteful towards Blitzo since he was the guy who led to her mom being crazy and Octavia being depressed. Just having Octavia forgive Stolas is lazy and will lead to not much in the future because believe me it didn't lead to much because her development was already done. You'll see what I mean later on.

Overwhelming amounts of info

Loo Loo Land just forces a shit ton of information down our throats that either had no build up or was just unnecessary.

Now here are the things we learned that had no build up:

Stolas has a daughter named Octavia who's a depressed teen

Stella is an asshole but wasn't a one-dimensional villain as of that episode's release time

Stolas has a messy relationship with his daughter

Blitzo used to work at Loo Loo Land alongside Robo-Fizz

Robo-Fizzarolli entirely

Now here's some of the unnecessary information:

Loo Loo Land is a bootleg rip-off of Lu Lu Word, a theme park run by Lucifer that wasn't mentioned in HH by Charlie, his daughter.

Moxxie is afraid of mascots for some reason, why even add that when you can just put it as Trivia or a fun fact for the character

And lastly, Octavia was afraid of Robo-Fizz, but isn't anymore

So yeah that's a lot of information some that just came out of nowhere and went nowhere, some that was unnecessary, and some that had no build-up or were fast paced. In the second episode of the entire series, no less. Instead of answering questions that the fandom had, Loo Loo Land just immediately gives them an overwhelming amount of info that just leads to more questions that still haven't been answered to this day.

Seeing Stars

So that's half of why I believe it's overrated, but why do I believe it's redundant? Well, Seeing Stars exists.

Loo Loo Land and Seeing Stars both have the same concept just different execution. Octavia runs away due to Stolas being a bad father, IMP or Stolas goes out to look for her, Stolas finds her, they reconcile, and something is on fire later on. Seeing Stars is Loo Loo Land, but way worse and this leads me to question what's the point of Loo Loo Land when we have Seeing Stars? Seeing Stars is basically Loo Loo Land 2.0

This is a callback to my previous statement, Vivziepop developed Octavia and Stolas way too fast and as a result, she doesn't know what to do with their relationship. They expressed their problems, talked, and resolved them in the span of 1 minute and 20 seconds near the end of Loo Loo Land when it should've been at least a couple episodes long.

Octavia has a couple years amount of trauma on her, that trauma just can't be solved with a talk, a hug, and an eventual broken promise.

So in short, the inclusion of Seeing Stars just shows how Loo Loo Land rushed the development between Stolas and Octavia to the point where the writers just did it again eventually making Loo Loo Land a redundant episode.

Loo Loo Land isn't necessarily a filler episode, but it might as well be.

Conclusion

Loo Loo Land at first was the "perfect Helluva Boss episode", but now it's just another Helluva Boss episode to me. While this one isn't as insufferable as some other episodes, it certainly was a big missed opportunity to actually give characters some decently paced and thought-out development. Anyway, that's all I have for today. Thank you all for reading and I hope you all have a nice day!

[muffinrecord]

Some lists of favorites and least favorites for story content.

Writing this made me realize I want to do a larger version with my opinion on each event / mgs / costume story so I think I might actually do that in the future before I do the big reread.

Anyways I'm gonna post this and then lay down. Feel free to make your own lists? Could be fun to see how similar and different everyone's is.

Favorite Events

See You Tomorrow

Breakpoint

Beachside Bonds

Wings in the Wind

The Green Jasper Diviners

Angels on the Road

Bittersweet AI Memory

The Peaceful Daily Life of Nayuta's Family

The Legendary Story of the Paper Mulberry Leaf

Dream Halloween Festa

My Only Salvation

Farewell Storage

A Bouquet for Tomorrow's Happiness

Memory Drops

I'll Keep Waving At You

Not technically Events but Still Favs (And It's My List and I'll Include What I Want)

Valkyrie of Vik

Rakshasi of Tibet

Sentimental Gaze

Least favorite Events:

Every single Tart event, except for the funny high school au which remembered that stories should try and entertain the reader instead of put them to sleep

Endless Beginnings

Magia Clash

Mixed Summer

Favorite Magical Girl Stories

Shizuku Hozumi

Alina Gray

Kirika Kure

Uwasa Tsuruno

SWIMSUIT HOMURA IS THE BEST ONE

Holy Alina

Mikage Yakumo

San Kagura

Final Oriko

Urara Yume

Valentines Sudachi

Masara and Kokoro

Karin Misono

Konoha and Hazuki

Least Favorite Magical Girl Stories

Natsuki Utsuho

Asuka Tatsuki

Kaoru Maki

Haregi Madoka

Haregi Sayaka

All the Nanoha girls

Corbeau (it was so boring, justice for corncob)

The anime versions for just being clip shows from the anime

Honorable Mentions (MGS)?

Himena Aika's magical girl story was very good and written well for her perspective but I did not enjoy experiencing it

Yachiyo Nanami's is bafflingly incorrect with later story stuff but it's so bad and questionable in parts that it actually becomes kind of entertaining

I really liked the first 2/3 of Sasara Minagi's mgs but the conclusion fell flat for me and kind of ruined it

Fairytale Mifuyu had a really good mgs but i can't be caught on record saying that

I stared at Haregi Homura's magical girl story thumbnail for like 2 minutes, wondering if I had watched it then remembering that I did. Not a fan but not bad enough to put on the least favorite list. Just painfully mediocre.

I've never been able to sit through and watch all of Cool Homura's mgs because attention span bad and bored. sorry homu. your swimsuit mgs is still the best though!

I haven't watched enough Costume Stories to put them on here, but I liked Temari's winter costume and I liked Sana's pajama costume.

[captainremmington-13]

A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova, Kallista, and Caesarus. I also do not condone the beliefs or actions of Coriolanus or Bellova.

SUMMARY: Dr. Gaul informs Bellova that her rival has returned from District 12. Upon hearing this, she forms a plan to ensure that he never affects her success again.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: spoilers for TBOSAS, swearing, implications of blackmail, mentions of death, vague allusion to sexual acts

A/n: This chapter takes place a couple months before the epilogue in TBOSAS occurs.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

“That’s all for today. If you have questions for me, stay behind and ask away. Otherwise, you are dismissed.” 

Bellova gathered her books and pens, tucking them safely into her leather school bag. She nodded politely at Professor Bingley before briskly exiting the lecture hall. It was finally lunchtime, and she was positively famished, for she hadn’t had time to eat a proper breakfast. She had gotten accustomed to sleeping in over the summer break. By the time her maid woke her up for her first day of University, she only had an hour to prepare for her first class.

Over the summer, she had officially decided to pursue a career in law. Her father assured her that it was a perfect fit, saying that her academic strengths and combative attitude would make her unstoppable in the field. The idea of creating laws for the entirety of the Capitol, or even all of Panem one day, was exhilarating to her. She knew she could make the country thousands of times better if she was given the chance. 

Despite only having attended three classes so far, Bellova loved being a University student. It was much more elite than the Academy, the professors were better, and there was no uniform. She found the last aspect particularly exciting, enjoying the looks of envy and adoration she had received as she walked down the halls for the first time.

Her social life had blossomed greatly in the span of just a few months. It was solid during her Academy days, as she was one of the most popular students. But since enrolling in the University, she had gained several new companions. She still talked to some of her old friends, like Lysistrata and Persephone. She even occasionally went on dates, for she was asked out left-and-right by men and women alike. Most of them she turned down, but for those who seemed promising, she accepted their invitations. However, none of them felt like the perfect match. She didn’t let that affect her, though. 

Her education was her top priority.

She saw Persephone Price and one of her new friends, Kallista Philo, waiting for her outside of the dining hall. Ignoring the lingering stairs of some of the people passing by, she approached them quickly.

“Hello,” she said, smiling brightly. “How are you both feeling? The first day of University treating you well?”

Persephone nodded. “I love it here already. I can’t wait to start working with other people who have the same major as me.” 

Kallista, who was a year older than Persephone and Bellova, gave them both an affectionate grin. “You both will excel in your fields, I’m positive. As long as you always try your hardest, the professors will do anything in their power to help you achieve your dream career.”

“Good to know,” Bellova said. “Now, shall we get lunch? I’m practically dying of starvation.”

They made their way through the dining hall, sitting at their usual table in the corner of the room. They discussed a variety of topics, including Kallista’s brother’s annoying fiancée and Persephone’s new pet dove. 

Persephone then asked how Bellova’s date with Caesarus Nottingham went. 

Bellova winced. “It was incredibly disappointing. He talked about nothing but his mediocre accomplishments and his…bedroom skills while we ate dinner. It completely ruined my appetite.”

Kallista gagged. “Ugh. That sounds awful.”

“Oh, it was. I was tempted to abandon the date all together to humiliate him, but I was able to embarrass him enough when he leaned in for a kiss and I stepped away. I left before he could say another word.” 

The girls laughed. Bellova was ruthless when it came to almost everything, including those she went on dates with.

“Miss Reginelle.” 

A young man wearing a University identification badge approached the table. Bellova looked up from her food.

“Yes?”

“Dr. Gaul wants to see you in her lab. She said it had to do with…reincarnation.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You wanted to see me?”

The doctor grinned, setting down her surgical scissors. “Ah yes, Miss Reginelle. Come, my dear. I wanted to ask your opinion on these new mutations I’m developing.” 

Bellova sat down next to Dr. Gaul on a lab stool. The older woman set a small glass terrarium in front of them. Inside housed what looked like normal flowers. 

“Don’t let the pretty colors fool you,” Dr. Gaul said. “They can bite as lethally as the most dangerous snakes.”

Bellova briefly thought about the snakes that she had sent into the arena a year prior. The memory was unpleasant, not because of the mutts, but because of who she associated them with.

“That’s amazing,” Bellova said. “I assume these are for this year’s Games?”

She nodded. “Indeed. And, I plan on altering them so they regrow within mere minutes if they are snipped.”

“Reincarnation…” Bellova muttered.

“Precisely.” Dr. Gaul flashed her a twisted smile. “Speaking of that, I have some other news for you.”

Bellova cocked her head. “What is it?”

“A certain young Mr. Snow has returned to the Capitol.” 

Bellova briefly contemplated jumping into Dr. Gaul’s pool of sea serpents. “You’re fucking kidding.”

Dr. Gaul laughed. “I am not, Miss Reginelle.”

“Why? How? I thought he was sentenced to be a peacekeeper for the next twenty years?”

“He was. But I negotiated for him to return. He has far too much potential to be wasted in District 12. He returned less than a week ago, and is set to study under me for the rest of his time at the University.”

“Dr. Gaul,” Bellova said, trying her hardest not to scream. “He disgraced himself by cheating in the Games - in your Games. Why would you forgive such a thing?”

“Mr. Snow’s time in the districts has…transformed him. He has finally opened his eyes to the real nature of this world, and understands why our country operates the way it does.”

Bellova felt her jaw clench. “I see.” 

Dr. Gaul grabbed a pair of tweezers and dropped a small cricket into the glass enclosure that housed the flowers mutation. The flower immediately lunged towards the insect, devouring it in seconds. 

“Do you need anything else, Dr. Gaul?” Bellova asked. “My next class begins soon.”

She shook her head. “That is all. Run along, my dear. And if you see Mr. Snow, do give him a warm welcome home.”

Forcing a smile, Bellova nodded and walked out of the lab.

After leaving the building, she let out a frustrated snarl. Just a few weeks after Snow’s departure, she had realized she was beyond grateful that he was no longer in her life. She no longer had to worry about constantly one-upping him, she could just focus on herself and her happiness.

But now, he was back. 

Back to continue tormenting her. 

Was that his only life goal? To make her existence a living hell? 

‘Stop that,’ she chided herself. ‘You can’t let his presence affect you anymore. You’re a new woman now. A woman that holds too much power and status to give in to silly things like emotions.’

Of course, the idea of messing with Coriolanus again was tempting. She could expose several of his actions that would immediately tarnish any of his career plans. 

But it was wisest to keep that information to herself. 

For now, anyway.

Bellova smiled to herself. Instead of listening to Dr. Gaul’s suggestion to give Snow a “warm welcome”, she would give him the coldest shoulder possible. She would avoid him at all costs. 

He was no longer worthy of her attention. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bellova! Oh, it’s so nice to see you, dear!”

Bellova whirled around, about to chew out wherever was bothering her. She was not in the mood to socialize. 

She refrained from doing so when she recognized the person approaching her was Mrs. Plinth, dressed in all black. This was uncharacteristic of her, as she usually donned bright colors. 

“Mrs. Plinth,” she greeted the older woman politely, despite wanting to tell her to leave her alone. She had decided to stop by a bakery on her way home from the University to grab a fresh pastry. She had hoped that it would lighten her mood after the unpleasant news she discovered earlier. She had not expected to run into “Ma” Plinth.

She didn’t really have anything against her, but she was still district in Bellova’s eyes. The same way her son was. She liked Sejanus most of the time, unless he was spouting on a useless tirade about the unfairness of the Capitol. But he was serving time as a Peacekeeper in 12. She had heard this from Clemensia, who heard it from Strabo Plinth himself. 

Mrs. Plinth looked her up and down, and her eyes began to fill with tears. 

“Are you alright?” Bellova asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She dabbed at her eyes with a red handkerchief, sniffling quietly. “You have grown into such a fine young woman. Ever since my family moved to the Capitol, my Sejanus adored you. He always referred to you as intelligent, and beautiful, and…” She trailed off, beginning to cry harder.

Bellova did her best not to appear uncomfortable. She didn’t like having to comfort people, it simply wasn’t in her nature. After a tense moment of silence, she asked, “Mrs. Plinth, what’s going on? Did something happen to Sejanus?”

Mrs. Plinth’s eyes widened slightly. “Has nobody told you yet?”

“Told me what?”

“H-he’s dead. Hanged in District 12 for treason against the Capitol.”

Bellova’s head spun. 

The heir to the Plinth fortune, dead.

Leaving behind two vulnerable, grieving parents. 

“What exactly was he accused of?” Bellova asked softly.

“I’m not sure. I just know that someone turned him in for traitorous conspiring. Someone who probably pretended to Sejanus’s friend just to stab him in the back,” Mrs. Plinth sobbed. “My poor boy…he deserved to die of old age after a long, prosperous life. Not in the gallows.”

Bellova pulled the hysterical woman into an awkward hug. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Plinth. If you need anything, just call, and I’ll do what I can.” 

The woman nodded. “Thank you, Bellova. Any friend of Sejanus is a friend to my family. Coriolanus, Sejanus’s best friend, has been such a great source of comfort to us. My husband formally declared him our heir just yesterday.”

Bellova barely held back a noise of disgust.

“That’s…very kind of you,” she said instead.

After Mrs. Plinth had left with a basket full of fresh bread, Bellova sat down at a small table, processing this new information.

Sejanus was dead. And he had been betrayed. 

Betrayed by someone he called a friend.

And she knew exactly who had sent him to the gallows. Undoubtedly, he did it for his own personal benefit. And now he had taken Sejanus’s place as the heir to the massive Plinth fortune.

He really was pathetic. 

As twisted as it sounded, Bellova was glad she was informed of Sejanus’s execution and why it had come about. 

It was one more thing to add to her list of blackmail against Coriolanus Snow.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy, @effectwalker, @vxnilla-hxrddrugs, @mystargirl-interlude

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! The tension within the story will only continue to build, until it finally snaps…

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!