#I will shout about this forever

[bluetaho]

[ARCHIVIST]

Sometimes… I imagine if none of this had happened. If we had just… met. Been together, without… all of this.

[MARTIN]

But we wouldn’t have, would we? Been together, I mean.

(part 2)

[ricky-mortis]

Holloweane… save me…

[anna-scribbles]

MY BEST FRIEND MADE ME A COPY OF CALL IT EVEN FOR MY BIRTHDAY😭😭😭

[chickpea0]

Do you guys ever think about historical age regression? And no I don't mean in fiction I mean like how there's so many people that regressed. What was it like? Do you wonder if there was a regressor and their caregiver who lived in the 60s? Did any adults or teens in the early 1900s wish they had a rocking horse every time they saw one in a shop window? What about even further, in the 1800s? The 1600s even. Older?

We're not alone, maybe modern day is during a time where regression is more present because it's a perfect amount of certain factors, sure but it's not like someone in 2014 just decided to! I think it's really facinating and intimate to imagine all these people throughout the years going through what we go through. And I bet a good lot of them lived happily. And maybe quite a few found a good support system.

[xxswagcorexx]

haven't posted this anywhere publically yet BUT I MADE A TECHNO STATUE IN CERAMICS CLASS!!!

happy birthday king <3

[just-null]

your yan!noritoshi is so wisnwonwpwjw RAAAHHHH going absolutely feral ... i want him . ive had so many thoughts abt him as like a yandere n then i saw your art n absolutely lost it /pos

IM ALL EARS, BABY!!!!!!!!!!!

GOD FUCK OKAY, HOLD ON, I ALSO HAVE SOME RAMBLES AND THOUGHTS ABOUT YANDERE NORITOSHI BUT IM GOING TO PUT THEM UNDER THE CUT.

I AM IN NO WAY RESPONSIBLE FOR UNLEASHING MY TJOUGHTS OFFICER. IT WAS MY GLORIOUS CULT MEMBER RIGHT HERE.

MERRY OCTOBER YALL

[disclaimer: im not a writer, but I want to get better. think of this as my practice. it ended up being so fucking long, but i swear it's just rambles, not a fic]

[warning for blood under the cut? keep that in mind for future posts]

OKAY LETS GO.

Bro ok so. if I'm not too delusional (yet) and don’t see him as a yandere, then this guy (Noritoshi) is still a strict fuck. he'd put you on the same level of importance as his clan if not a bit higher. but only by a bit. Your relationship would gradually bloom into something meaningful to him that he’d cherish you wholeheartedly. Only then would you grow in importance to Noritoshi significantly. He'd keep his resolve and all those healthy green flags. Because honestly? Noritoshi is just a green flag, he's so sweet..

But let's twist that into a yandere setting. I don't even need to twist too much, Noritoshi as a yandere is way too fitting.

Noritoshi was abandoned by his mother as a child, thereby fueling his lifelong goals to do as she said and bring her back. He didn't even think on his own accord, nor did he try to find a different way, or even follow her! He accepted his fate and made it his mission to accomplish the goal he was given. Despite the intense pressure of his worth being determined by an ability he was born with and the high expectations from the Kamo clan, he perseveres. That is until [spoilers] Noritoshi is exiled by his clan because of some Kenajku shit. All his hard work and future goals were ripped away from him without a second thought in an instant. Noritoshi was always the second thought time and time again, and now left as a man with nothing but the failure of his desired future.

That wasn't even the yandere part, that was all canon, what the fuck.

Yandere Noritoshi is the type to cling to scraps... He reminds me of an obsessive and protective yandere. obsessive about you because you become his everything.. his goal, his will to keep going, the light at the end of the tunnel. he wants all of you, from the best parts of you to your worst. He's also protective, because he cant handle losing yet another person so important to him. He'd rather tear himself apart than lose you.

He also seems mostly self-aware but can overthink to the point of delusion. For example, you pat him on the back and tell him he did a great job on something. He knows it's nothing to dwell on, but why does he feel like there's more to your words? Should he read in between the lines? but there's only one line! From then on, his mind would reel until he landed on a favorable conclusion. You meant that he was the only one who did great. The others paled in comparison in your eyes therefore you must favor Noritoshi in some way.. right?

Since Noritoshi was pretty deprived of any emotional support, you won't even have to try too hard to get his heart thumping. If you were to give him even just a bit more attention and care than the average person, like making sure he's eating alright or remarking that he's paler than usual after restocking his blood bags, he's hooked. He's self-aware enough to realize his blooming fondness for you is one-sided, so he simply admires you. that is, at the start. Note that Noritoshi is still new to these feelings so he's.. awkward. It's really cute.

Though these moments were cute to you, they slowly became horribly blissful to Noritoshi. Poor you, completely unaware of how you're slowly corrupting him in, what he thinks, is the best way possible just by giving him your attention. He thinks you're the last and only person still believing in him, so much so that everything and everyone else slowly becomes minuscule in the grand seam of things. He feels happy around you, like he matters, like he has someone to trust, like he has someone who won't abandon him. Because of this, he sees you as a new goal. A new hope. Failing you is not an option. Disappointing you is not an option. Hell, even a frown from you is unacceptable in his eyes.

Noritoshi tries to cling to you at this point in his own way... He enjoys it when you speak to him, or even sit next to him, so much so that he seeks you out when you're not there. You'd feel eyes boring holes into the back of your head, a sense of being followed, sometimes seeing your shadow accompanied by another, every time you turn around to be surprised by a familiar face. His footsteps are so quiet that you barely notice Noritoshi walking around.

Unfortunately, due to Noritoshi’s inexperience, the only way he knows how to impress people is by being “perfect” a.k.a. his strict, pain in the ass, annoying heir shtick. He would be the type to get on your case, scold, coddle, nitpick, correct you, and practically look like he's trying to bully you when in reality he's trying to hear praise from you for "helping" you. He’s waiting for you to see the affection and adoration behind his nagging, is he not being obvious enough? oh well, at least your eyes are on him for now. When most people in Noritoshi's life have either put him second or flat-out abandoned him, he's satisfied with anything he can get from you. Though he'd prefer praise, the thought of your attention being given to another even for a second makes his stomach feel like it's tying in knots, so he settles for your annoyed tuts and glares.

Of course, after a while, you'd get tired of this and tell him to knock it off. Or some variation of what a decent human being would do like, “Do whatever you want, but don't meddle in people's business.”

You KNOW he's going to be picking that apart in the middle of the night while looking up at the ceiling. What did you mean by that? Do you mean ANYTHING he wants? As long as he doesn’t bother anyone? Were you talking about yourself and everyone in general? Were you talking about someone specific? Did you leave it up for him to decide? Thoughts and questions circle in his head until he twists your words enough into something that he favors again. Ah, you allow him to do whatever he wants so long as he doesn't get in your way. But he wants to be alongside you... Did you mean in your way to the point of annoyance? Noted. From then on, Noritoshi's strictness softened into light nagging and bearable hovering. He'd knock it off completely through gritted teeth and furrowed brows if you threatened him with the silent treatment. He'll slowly start it up again until you begin ignoring him, only then will he get the hint and relax a bit. only until next time, of course.

The intensity of Noritoshi's coddling can fluctuate depending on your actions. (recklessness, obedience, shyness, etc.) it's his love language.

It's a completely different story if someone else decides to nag you as Noritoshi does... If someone scolds you, Noritoshi's on the offense. He's known for his occasional bluntness and sassy remarks, but this time... He's contradicting himself all in an attempt to get the other person to back away. If the one scolding you brings up points Noritoshi used in the past, he firmly denies them all and stands by your side. He'd rather sound hypocritical than let someone else care for you the way he does. Noritoshi stands in front of you, almost guarding you with his body and begins his barrage of deflective comments through his clenched jaw such as “That's not your place to say” “Shut it, they did no wrong.” “You don't know the reason why they did so, leave them alone.” and other things similar to that. Jeez, take your advice Noritoshi.. He’d argue and become antagonistic towards someone scolding you, even if it's exactly what he was about to do.

The same goes for someone who tries to be gentle with you to a lesser degree. It's nice that people see how wonderful you are, but having your smiles and kind words directed at anyone else other than Noritoshi is... Upsetting. The resentment gradually pools in the pit of his stomach and suddenly finds himself impulsively moving towards you and this "friend." He stands in between you and the kind person, trying his best to conceal his sneers. He wants nothing more than to have the third party get swallowed up by the ground or hit by a car, but he keeps his composure. Noritoshi sternly states how he’ll handle everything from then on and gives the third party a glare that's much more hateful than usual… Finally! Noritoshi has you to himself again! All is right in the world once more...

Noritoshi has always been on a very tight rope... Any wrong step and it’s going to snap. The more Noritoshi gets attached to you, the easier it is to convince himself that it's okay to cross certain lines to make sure you're safe with him. Even if that line he’s crossing, includes murder. It'd happen quicker if he caught feelings after the whole incident with the Kamo clan. You'd be the only thing he has left, the only thing he'd cling onto with every fiber of his being, emotionally and sometimes physically.

And like every fairy tale, a problem unconventionally shows itself much to Noritoshi's dismay... Noritoshi is shown to be prideful at times. Because of this, he'd try to conceal his more embarrassing emotions and reactions towards you. He wants to be seen as someone strong you can rely on, a steady pillar to your stability, someone who will do anything you wish at the drop of a hat, but it’s almost impossible to execute when he feels like he's nothing but putty in your hands at the slightest sign of positive reciprocation.

If Noritoshi felt his face heating up because your laugh caught him off guard, he'd turn his head to hide how that simple action made him nearly melt into mush. If your hand brushed against his, he'd quickly swipe it away. Not because he doesn't want to touch you, but because you'd feel how shaky and sweaty his palms got with just a graze. Noritoshi's gaze always lingers on his bow if you ever touch it causing his aim to decline in accuracy significantly.

He mentally curses himself out every time he pulls away from you because he knows he's sending mixed signals. Noritoshi loves you endlessly, but please spare his fragile heart. Your presence overwhelms him like no other, and he's utterly conflicted on how to act. He can handle being by your side like he wants, but the second your 100% focus is on him and only him, he’ll start to squirm under your gaze. Noritoshi wants to impress you! Stop being so mesmerizing for just a second so he can gather his thoughts and not embarrass himself! A-ah, but don't look away!!!

Tl;dr Noritoshi as a yandere is needy and petty as hell, but will explode if he gets an ounce of affection! He’s also! A creepy hopeless romantic who sends you mixed signals!

[m1d-45]

the scottish play

summary: some things are better left unknown.

word count: ~3.1k

-> warnings: spoilers for liyue story quest, reader dies (again). blood mention. zhongli probably cries off camera

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @atsukawolfcat || @thehoneymushroomhealer || @imyme20 || @bittersweetorpheus || @vampirecatsw || @willburzone || @some-mildly-happy-human || @yourlocaldrugdealerbutfancy || @inmyprinceerafr || @depressed-bitchy-demon || @kithewanderingme

<< first part || < masterlist >

you should have known better than to trust liyue.

a rock hits your shoulder, kicked down from the ledge behind you, and the abyss mage in front of you shouts a cry lost amidst the hilichurls’-

“YA!“

clubs are grabbed and shields are raised, the electro shooter taking your wrist roughly and pulling you away. you hear human voices behind you, calls to get them! and that’s the missing artifact! nearly drowned under your heartbeat in your ears. the electro hilichurl pushes you behind the grenadier before grabbing its crossbow, hastily beginning to load it. in the camp, you can see an archer up on the stone ledge—the same one you entered from—as well as four other millelith guards in the camp itself. an electro-infused bolt skims the cheek of one, a spear narrowly blocking the swing of a club, two have to ditch their weapons and roll to dodge to mitachurl’s charge-

the grenadier’s calloused hands pull you out of the way of an arrow, one that lands in the sand and quivers with force. the hilichurl pushes you away, waving its hands for you to run.

if you’d have paid more attention to the fight, you’d have noticed the hilichurls were fighting defensively to give you time.

you turn on worn, hole-ridden shoes, doing your best to take in air as you run down the path. this area of liyue is sparse, with no weaving pathways to hide in or trees to cover you. there’s nothing for the earth to shelter you with, and other than bringing more dust into the air around the archer, it’s just as helpless as you are.

there’s a building set besides a crack in the huge wall besides the path, a fork approaching quicker than you’d like. the path continues forward, toward trees, but it’s a long way to the small forest..

you turn. an arrow bounces off the stone just behind you as you do.

immediately you recognize your mistake, spotting first spiked walls, then rippling red banners, then the archer towers they’re attached to and the guards climbing down the ladders on them.

the crack you saw seems to open into a larger area, with trees you’ve never seen before, so you take the risk that the millelith can’t climb all that quickly with their armor and keep running. it’s not like you would have survived turning back anyways; they’re the ones with the archer towers.

a guard makes it to the ground just as you pass, throwing aside his spear and running after you. an arm loops around your waist, then another over your arms as you fall.

the weight of the guard on top of you knocks out the air from your lungs, leaving you dazed. he quickly gets off and pulls at the arm with the ring on it as you desperately try not to breathe in dirt.

you fuss, trying first to close your hand into a fist then hitting at his with your other. it works, the ring falling to the dirt, and though you try to follow it with your eyes you quickly lose it in the light of the sun.

the guard starts to wipe desperately at the dirt and you take the opportunity to run into the crack, pulling a random bundle of things you hope are medical supplies off a nearby cart as you do. the guards shout at you, but you keep running, taking a set of confusing turns before coming across a small campsite. there are tents and rudimentary walls, but you decide to shove yourself into the space between a stack of crates and a wall, holding your breath.

footsteps thunder by, slowing to a stop not too far from where you’re hidden. you clutch at and attempt to cover the white in your arms, turning it towards the wall as far as you can without moving the crates. you don’t dare move to peek between the boxes, simply sitting in your little corner and hoping beyond reason that they won’t think to search in the most obvious area.

“what?”

“where’d they go?”

“find them!”

your heart thuds in your chest and you have to fight to keep your breathing quiet, pressing yourself further against the wall as the guards search the small camp.

the floor tips and spins beneath you, the world blurry and hazed from dehydration and exhaustion, but you stay hidden as boots stomp by again, listening to the irritated words from one of the guards as they pass.

“we must report this to the qixing.”

zhongli walks through liyue harbor, one hand holding a folder and the other one clenched in a fist. he can feel the stares of people as he passes, the new whispers on their tongues, and he sets his jaw, picking up the pace.

he’s used to the stares. people pointed him out as odd, eccentric, the funeral consultant that everybody knew yet didn’t know why, or where he was from. the stranger that somehow knew alarming amounts of liyuen history, the new worker at the parlor who puts up with the director, the one with a vision from liyue yet seems adept at using it nonetheless.

stares are regular, until they’re not.

the empty space on his lower back where his faux-vision once was affects him more than it should. maybe because it feels like a real one, now, since he hasn’t been able to manipulate geo ever since it turned against him. the lack of pressure, the missing weight of glass and gold, no matter how papery the front it put up, bothered him. it wasn’t real in any sense, it was utterly worthless, it didn’t glow or have any connection at all, and yet.. it still refused to obey him. touching it felt like he was cutting his palm open over and over despite the lack of physical injuries, and when he tried to have hu tao reattach it to (a new) chain, it only stabbed at him through his clothes.

it was fake. it shouldn’t be possible.

but he couldn’t tell anybody of his plight.

nodding a greeting at the blacksmith, he continued his journey across the harbor.

“-consultant for-?”

“-where’s his-?“

“-did his vision-?”

questions flew in the space between people, gossip lighting the way between lampposts. he knew they were watching. he didn’t know why it unnerved him so much.

zhongli kept walking.

two millelith guards are standing duty near the bridge, and he listens in on their conversation as he passes.

“-hear any updates on the situation?”

“no, only that they’ve gotten to the chasm. it’s to dangerous for the qixing to send-..”

hm..

he files the information away.

zhongli openes the door to the parlor, nodding in greeting at ferrylady. perhaps he should pay the chasm a visit on the chance that the guards were speaking of what he hoped they were.

you wouldn’t be too much of a challenge—he is still, after all, morax, the god of war and contracts. he’d signed on the dotted line when he took his first breath, signed to be the warrior of his god and to stand by their side for as long as he lived. it was a deal he could easily uphold, and one he’s not going to fail.

he’s served his god all his life, and he refuses to allow such disgrace to befall their name.

perhaps if he’s lucky, he’ll be the one allowed to slay you…

he shakes the thoughts of bloodshed from his mind, knocking twice on a door marked ‘director’. when he hears permission to enter, he wastes no time in pushing it open.

hu tao’s eyes brighten when she see’s it’s him, the pen in her hand twirling around her fingers in her excitement. “zhongli! you’re back quickly.”

he nods, stepping forward to hand her the folder. “the negotiations went easier than anticipated.”

her eyes suddenly narrow, hee hand retracting from the folder. “did you say what i told you to?”

“yes, director, i kept the price within the range you specified. i was simply commenting on the simplicity of the transaction; who knew it was so easy to-“

the air shifts, a presence materializing from a cloud of black and teal smoke at zhongli’s side. hu tao yelps, her chair skidding backward.

xiao catches the pen she throws at him with ease.

zhongli pulls it from his hand, the director having finally registered what happened.

“wha- who- you? y- you can’t just appear in my office like that!”

xiao paid her no mind, turning to zhongli and bowing, the latter easily dismissing the action.

“what news do you have?”

“i have scoured all of liyue and have yet to find a trace. in addition, b-… venti has not felt their presence upon the wind, and considering the tightening of security around the harbor thanks to the millelith, i can only assume they have either gone to sumeru through nantianmen or lumberpick valley, or they are in the chasm.”

the words of the millelith from earlier echoed in zhongli’s mind, a plan swiftly forming.

“i see. thank you, xiao. i will leave at once.”

with a nod, the adeptus vanishes back into a cloud of smoke.

“zhongli? who was that? and where are you going? who were you talking about?”

zhongli set the folder on her desk, the pen placed on top. “all in due time, ms. hu. until then, i’m afraid i must depart.”

“you can’t-“

“i promise that appropriate compensation for my leaving early will be arranged, and we may speak on the topic when i return.”

“‘li-“

“goodbye, director.”

black and gold fabric twisted around him as he turned, the empty chain across his back glinting in the light of the office. while he had some regret about leaving so harshly—he’d surely receive a rant about reliance when he returned—it was quickly drowned under his determination.

his god was calling, and all he’d ever wished for was to answer.

you stumble into a tunnel next to a blue waypoint, walking in as far as you can manage before crumbling to the floor. you have to go. to hide. you don’t know how many ‘lives’ you have left, and you’re not keen on finding out, not with the qixing on your tail.

you drag yourself next to a shining chunk of cor lapis, gritting your teeth at the pain.

how did it come to this?

to running from the millelith, hiding in the chasm of all places?

you breathe heavily as you sit against the wall, the sudden shift from relaxation to running for your life taking a toll. you put your hands on the floor to shuffle further against the wall only to wince, moving your palm to see what sharp rock you’d landed on.

except it wasn’t a rock. the ring, the one the dendro slime gave you, is sitting peacefully on top of the dirt like it belongs there. still clean, still shining, the gem without a scratch you can see as you lift it up. the tunnel is only lit by sun streaming in from around the corner, and though it makes it hard to see imperfections on the gold, the light only highlights the wear on your figure. your clothes are tattered and worn, reduced to scraps, that ring the only thing of passable quality. how ironic, that the thing in best condition was the one you never should have taken—where would hilichurls even get them? did you think about it at all?—and the one that almost got you killed.

again.

you couldn’t hold it against the millelith, really. you didn’t know where it came from or why. it didn’t look ancient to you, the gold still glimmering in the faint light, and the gem wasn’t large enough to be of any importance, but maybe it was. maybe it was some artifact that was really rare or highly sought after. maybe it was the dropped ring of some important ruler. maybe it was the wedding band of one of the workers here.

maybe you were just making excuses because you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate them.

..wow, this is kinda pathetic.

you do your best to wrap your wounds with the bandages you swiped, mumbling a quick thank you that they were bandages, no matter how covered in dust from your journey. between your shaky hands and the severity of the wounds, though, you don’t know if you’re actually doing anything of benefit. not to mention you’re still lying on the floor, in a dusty tunnel in the chasm.

dirt and rocks dig into your skin and wounds, scabs breaking as you curl up further, too caught up in your pain to hear the footsteps approaching you.

or maybe you do hear them, and simply don’t care.

you never had the highest level of self-preservation.

zhongli has lived for eons.

he’s seen it all.

nothing surprises him anymore.

….nothing should.

but as he approaches the tunnel the millelith had told him of, as he walks and hears hitched breathing and choked words….

his knuckles are white around his polearm.

he turns the corner, stepping around a wooden support. dust stains the air as if trying to hide you from his view, but can still see. torn clothes, your hands wrapped in dirty bandages that are more likely to get them infected than protect, and you’re… you’re crying.

as he watches, you look up, matted hair falling into your face. you’re sitting next to a chunk of cor lapis, the ore looking like it’s glowing brighter than normal. in the golden light, he sees the tear tracks streak through the dirt on your face, and something like pity twinges in his chest.

something like a laugh leaves your cracked lips.

“morax…”

you knew?

you knew him?

how?

his posture tensed, but you only sat up straighter, leaning on the wall behind you. it was hard to tell if that was blood on the floor or just shadows cast by the ore nearby, but you were obviously weak.

you licked your lips. why hadn’t he moved yet?

“i don’t mind dying, you know. not if it’s you.”

you sounded weak, voice hoarse and painful, like your throat was lined with glass.

and yet… him?

why?

how did you even know him?

surely… surely you weren’t the same person as before, in wuwang hill, right? you weren’t the one who looked up at him with eyes that glittered not with tears but with admiration, your gaze sweeping over his face with such emotion. you weren’t the one that, even as he pointed his spear at your heart, dared to whisper a compliment?

…what did it matter? you… you deserved to be slain. he couldn’t be swayed simply because you looked like his god.

his hand almost didn’t want to obey as he leveled his polearm at your neck, noting the exhaustion with which you relaxed further into the stone. your eyes fluttered shut, your hand landing closer to the light of the ore. he could see a ring on one of your fingers: gold, archaic, likely stolen from a ruin nearby. how pitiful that an artifact would be ruined by you.

the golden point of his blade leveled against your skin, seeming to buzz with excitement in his hand.

he should make it quick.

in his hesitance, you spoke. “you want last words?”

to ask somebody on death row for the worst of crimes for last words would probably be itself a crime elsewhere. giving you the opportunity to take advantage of him while he was vulnerable—though he doubted you had the strength for that…

a small smile crossed your face.

he swallowed. his hand wavered.

“if you wish.”

why did you seem so familiar?

he was starting to shake.

it didn’t matter that you looked like his god. you were the imposter, you were the fake, but being here with you…

why was he hesitating?

this was a sin against his god, to allow such a devil to walk his nation. and to dare to feel sympathy for such a-

“i don’t mind if i die.”

but your voice-

you spoke so softly with his weapon pointed at your throat, every bob of your skin threatening to tear itself across its edge. and yet, you continued, leaving him no choice but to believe your statement.

“i don’t know why you want to kill me, but i don’t. really.”

in the golden light of the lapis and whatever extra was coming around the corner, your skin broke.

what were you saying?

why couldn’t he listen?

he was entranced by the bead of blood, almost shimmering in the light, rolling down your neck.

he had to kill you.

he had to.

why didn’t he want to?

“it’s a good day to die.”

that was a lie, the skies were gray and threatened rain, the earth itself irritated and rumbling with an anger you couldn’t sense. the only reason you said that was because you didn’t know.

he found himself believing it anyway.

“kill me, morax.” the way you said his name- “i’m… i’m sure your god would be proud.”

what did you know of his god?

in the instant anger overcame him, he pressed vortex vanquisher forward, pushing until he hit stone. you flinched, blood rolling down his weapon and falling into your lap in waves. to his surprise, it didn’t stain the blade dark with crimson, instead…

no.

he told himself it was the light.

no.

your eyes fluttered, struggling, and he compared the shade of the ring on your finger to the one on his weapon. even in the tinted lighting, they looked the same.

no.

it was impossible.

even as he tore his weapon away, a futile attempt to undo his actions, he knew it was impossible.

“kill me, morax.”

and he had, he had, and now he wanted nothing more than to take it back, dirt staining his knees as gloved hands fluttered over the wound as if it would magically stick back together.

“i’m sure your god would be proud.”

[x-letsbreaksomerules-x]

“He ordered me to kill them. So I did. I killed them all.”

[polyshowtime]

it's pride month you know what that means

[clownowo]

Guardian of the Eastern Gate and the One Entrusted with a Flaming Sword by God: Principality Aziraphale

[pinchinschlimbah]

Still thinking about this article and also generally what we've seen of the new Dick Turpin series so far and was suddenly struck with a realization. Themes of queerness and gender nonconformity have always been present in Noel's work, but this really feels like the first time where those themes are the overall POINT of a media he's created rather than incidental.

Dick himself is heavily traditionally queer coded, both in his interests/character traits (fashion design, knitting, tea, crossdressing, the color purple, kindness and emotional intelligence, encouraging those around them to also be their most flamboyant and authentic selves etc) and the way others react to him because of it- much of the tension of the first two episodes comes from Dick's father and Leslie both looking down on Dick for not acting in ways they deem to be what a real man is like, and Dick being described as "strange" and "creative" feel practically like euphemisms not to mention him literally being called names like "foppy tit" to discredit his abilities as a highwayman.

In the first 30 minute episode alone we have 3 major characters (Dick, Moose, and Nell) presenting in gender-nonconforming ways. When we are originally introduced to the Essex gang, their leader Tom King immediately kills the most outwardly queer person in the group for no real reason, and the rest of the gang later admits that they hated Tom's oppressive and callous leadership style and start to come out of their shells more once they get to know Dick. Dick's first course of action before anything else is to help the gang be their most authentic selves- he encourages Moose to embrace his emotional nature by speaking about his feelings and then to embrace his femininity by making custom dresses for him AND in a bit of a throwaway line Dick admits that he once spent an entire year wearing dresses himself! While the reveal that Nell has been pretending to be a man initially comes as Dick saying he thinks its cool if she wants to dress as a man, it appears he also ends up giving her the safety and confidence to realize that she's still the toughest one in the group, disguise or not! So far Honesty feels like he just needed someone to generally look up to and show him what can be possible, but I'm hoping we'll get a more in depth arc from him in the future episodes. Everyone is given stylish new outfits to make them feel powerful and then brought out to show them off and get a portrait done together- already a bonded found family who'd risk their lives for each other! And episode 2, where were left at so far, ends with an indication that others in the highwayman community are becoming interested in Dick's softer kinder way of doing things.... It makes perfect sense to me that now, while promoting a show where the whole central messaging is that you can find success through creativity, compassion, authenticity, and of course a bit of panache, rather than adhering to old fashioned violent and restrictive societal expectations, we've gotten one of the clearest statements yet about Noel's relationship with his own gender, and I'm very excited to see where else this series might take us!

[thetarttfuldickhead]

It would never have happened if not for Dr. Fieldstone. Now, Leslie’s delighted about her joining the Richmond team on a more permanent basis – she works wonders with the lads (and one head coach who shall remain unnamed, if only because he’s still a little sensitive about seeing a therapist) – but it does mean that Leslie’s once more out of an office. Just for the moment, of course, until he can find a suitable space without kicking anyone else out of their room. It’s really no hassle. He’s doing fine on the bench just behind the recyling bins outside of the copy room.

Or he was, until Roy Kent stops by just on the other side of said bins and, seemingly entirely unaware of Leslie’s presence, starts fiddling with his phone in what can only be described as an angry way.

It’s Roy, so that’s nothing out of the ordinary, and Leslie’s just about to offer a friendly greeting when he hears the hollow rings of an outgoing call and ah, it’d be terribly rude interrupt, wouldn’t it? 

For a long moment there’s nothing but beep after beep and Roy’s muttered pick the fuck up you fucking prick and then—

“What the fuck do you want?” 

Jamie’s not on speaker, but the sound’s loud enough for Higgins to not only recognize the voice but to hear every word, and the jagged, slightly petulant edge to them. 

“Where the fuck are you?” Roy growls. 

“How’s that any of your business? Training’s fucking over for the day, Coach.” Spat, more or less.

“Don’t be a fucking— “ Roy cuts himself off. “I need to see you.”

“Why?” 

“Fucking hell! I wanted to… I want to fucking apologize, all right!” Roy sounds very, very annoyed about it.

“You can do that over phone. Or in a text.” Jamie sounds slightly less annoyed, but not by much.

Leslie dares crane his neck just so to sneak a peek at Roy’s face. Roy has closed his eyes, looking pained as he grits out a simple, strained: “No. I can’t.” 

“Why the fuck not?” 

Roy looks to the ceiling. Looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. Still he plods on, and Leslie feels a small surge of pity, small surge of pride. 

“Because you’ll want to hug me afterwards,” Roy says, “and you can’t fucking do that over phone, can you?” 

There’s a long pause. Leslie finds himself holding his breath, and not only because he’s halfway terrified he’ll start nervously gagging if this goes on for much longer. 

“Fine,” Jamie says eventually. “You can meet me back at my place in twenty.”

“Yeah, okay. Cheers.” 

A snort, somewhere between derisive and exasperated. “You better fucking hug me back.”

With that, Jamie hangs up. Roy takes a few deep breaths before stomping off and leaving Leslie to carefully consider what he’s overheard. Obviously something must have happened at training and if their head coach and star player have a proper falling out and Ted’s not there to talk some sense in them—

Eh. They’ll sort it out. Leslie returns to his e-mails.

[dribs-and-drabbles]

The Thai Communal Wardrobe item #88

Hidden Agenda ep 7:

Middleman's Love ep 2:

Dead Friend Forever ep 1:

+ bonus not in a series and not the item in question but...

Suar Kritsanaphong in Joke's shirt above courtesy of @blmpff

for @airenyah 💙

[totem-but-shark]

what qfoolish is, not who he is or the choices he makes- What he is has meant he will always, inescapably be subject to loss. Being a totem he was practically born for it, written into his blood alongside the names of his loved ones in delicate cursive. You could say it's a curse, the few individuals he allows himself to care for leaving, dying or disappearing. But perhaps it would be more accurate to call it simple fact. He will outlive them all, there's no way around it nor any magical loophole to be exploited. Whether his loved ones die young or leave late does it truly make a difference in the grand scheme of eternity? one way or another it's only a matter of time. Time he has and they don't, because he is a totem and so he lives. Always, inescapable.

He carries them with him. Every name and face and laugh and smile lost to time, gone the mind of every living creature that walks upon the ancient soil beneath their feet, forgotten to all except one. Held dear forever and ever (and ever and ever). It's the least he can do.

[enter-drfrog]

So we all knew Athena sucks, right? But like Athena suuuuuuuuucks.

I love how much this episode highlighted just how prideful Athena is. I’ve always known that Athena was one of the more prideful gods but this episode really solidified that fact in my brain.

I have four examples so let’s start with the ones the show hasn’t already touched on and jump back to actual mythology.

1. The Trojan War. The whole impetus for the Trojan War was because the goddess were prideful. Eris presented the golden apple for the fairest goddess and Hera, Aphrodite, and Athena got into the whole argument and Paris awarded the apple to Aphrodite. Boom, Athena’s pride was wounded so she chose the side of the Greeks. So you know, the side fighting against Paris (who wounded her pride) and the side who won again the Trojans. Moral of the story, wound Athena’s pride, she’ll ensure you lose.

2. Arachne. Arachne was a great weaver. From what I remember of the myth she was humble about her skill (but that might’ve just been one author’s interpretation because in my brief fact check I couldn’t find anything to prove that). From everything I did find, she was boastful about her skill and challenged Athena to a weaving competition. (From what I remember Athena was jealous of Arachne’s skill, spied on her, then Athena prompted the challenge). But anyways, Arachne wove a better tapestry and in a fit of rage Athena tore apart the tapestry because, you know, wounded pride. From what I remember of the myth, Athena transformed her into a spider, forced to spend her days spinning and weaving webs because she thought was so good at it. (Other interpretations say Arachne hanged herself and as a “mercy” Athena transformed into a spider, allowing Arachne to live and continue to weave). Moral of the story (from the version I remember at least), wound Athena’s pride, she’ll punish through a sick twist of “giving you what you want.”

3. Medusa. Now the show did go further into this one so I’ll keep my explanation shorter. Medusa worshipped Athena (like a super devout worshipper) and Poseidon ended up going at her in Athena’s temple. Athena was offended that they would have sex in her temple and turned Medusa into the snake-haired woman we all know today. Moral of the story, wound Athena’s pride, get fucked (now there are obviously different interpretations about what Athena’s intentions were by doing this to Medusa, but the take that it was a mercy to save Medusa from other sexual predators is a more modern take, and doesn’t push the narrative I’m crafting here).

4. Now for the show. Percy sent Medusa’s head to Olympus despite the very clear protests of Grover and Annabeth. Athena took this as an offense and blamed Annabeth. Blamed Annabeth enough to allow Echidna and the Chimera to enter her temple and attempt to kill her daughter, who so far, had been described as the pride of Athena’s offspring. Pride. What a funny word. One hit to Athena’s pride and she loses any pride she had in her child. Moral of the story once again, wound Athena’s pride, she’ll fuck you over.

Big moral of the story, Athena sucks and only cares about her pride.

No wonder Annabeth’s fatal flaw is pride. Like mother like daughter.

[nostalgic-muffins]

trans LEVI💥 trans SATAN💥 trans BELPHIE💥 trans LUCIFER💥