#and I'm curious if this makes literally any sense to anyone but me

[comicaurora]

tldr I committed to a bit too hard

The slow-dawning sunlight dappled down through dense, rich foliage, scattering golden lace across mossy trunks and grassy hillocks. The light caught on the forest floor in a thousand glassy dewdrops and bent, fisheyed, in globed inversions of the canopy above.

No breeze stirred the forest so early in the morning, but a thin mist gathered in the valley under the warming air. Sunbeams lanced through the fog, pale in the dawn but soon to brighten and intensify. For now, the air was damp and cool and still, and the scent of the night lingered.

Pip bent a pawful of grass to the side and sniffed the air suspiciously.

It was too quiet, too still. And with no wind, she couldn't mark the position of the strange beasts and their odd, dusty, acrid scent that had no place in these woods. It hung low and directionless over the peaceful morning, distant but permeating, like a faraway fire.

She adjusted her backslung blade, wrapped her cloak closer around her and dropped onto all fours, nose pointed straight ahead and whiskers standing at attention. Her dusty green-gray wrap would shield her from all but the most attentive prying eyes, and - she quirked an ear, just to be sure of the silence - most of the forest was still asleep, unlikely to mark her passage.

She managed to stifle a flinch as a sound that wasn't a sound bypassed her ears and rang straight into her head.

Pip? Where'd you go?

She exhaled softly through her nose, the barest expression of frustration she allowed herself.

Scouting, Alder. Go back to sleep.

She set off before he could reply, scurrying silently along the mossy forest floor, tracing a sinuous route through the canopy's shadow to stay out of the slow-brightening sunbeams.

Scouting?!

The thought squeaked with disbelief. She didn't answer it.

Alder never had fewer than three thoughts at a time, and the more agitated he became, the harder they became to sort through. A jumble rang in her skull, a snatch of Eldest told us- and moves like thunder and have to hide, that last one echoing in six different ways with the significance it held in his mind. She concentrated on tracing her silent route, one shadow to the next, and came to a stop under a broad-leafed stalk as Alder's distress built to a crescendo.

If she kept moving, eventually she'd slip out of his range. Wasn't that a tempting thought.

I said go back to sleep, she sent, and with an afterthought of inexpert kindness, added I'm being careful. It'll be fine.

The chattering ground to a halt, and she felt the effort it took him to focus his thoughts down to a single thread. Come back, Pip. We have to stay hidden until they're all gone.

We can't hide if we don't know where they are.

Pip caught the beginning of his protest and shook herself violently, breaking off the connection. It was rude, she knew; closing her mind completely was one of her rarer talents, but unlike her other oddities, this one she wasn't particularly respected for. Her skills as a scout were admired precisely because she had such sharp senses, physical and mental both - some days she could even hear the slow, tangled thoughts of the Long Shadows - but when she didn't want to be disturbed, she could wall herself off from the others as thoroughly as if she'd been on the other side of the forest.

And right now, picking her way between treetrunks and sniffing her way towards the bizarre menagerie that had invaded her forest, the last thing she wanted was to be disturbed.

Her right forepaw sank in unexpectedly soft soil, and she recoiled with a stifled gasp. Her eyes darted across the swath of ground, analyzing its shape - and then she widened her scope, scanning the yards beyond that first strange softness. In a low-lying, hollowed track between two thick-rooted trees, the carpet of grass and flowers were flattened and crushed into a felted mat, mud bubbling through it in irregular patches like sickness in a wound. A wide track had been beaten into the soil by dozens - at least dozens, she amended - of flat-pawed creatures. Their dusty, acrid stink lay heavily over it.

She drew back from the unnaturally soft soil. Even with her diminutive size and weight, there was the risk of getting mired in unexpectedly watery ground, and while rescue was never far away in these woods, she certainly didn't want to weather Alder's overconcern or Eldest Luma's quietly smug passivity. Instead she skirted towards a point where the track narrowed, lashed her tail for a momentary burst in balance, then sprang over the mud and latched onto a tree root on the other side, freshly ripped free from the soil and scored with dozens of thin scars from the claws of the marching creatures. She scurried up and settled at the tree's base, where the gnarled roots tangled into a more-than-sturdy foothold overhanging the morass.

With the newfound advantage of height, she surveyed the terrain. The tracks overlapped one another in a mad scramble, pouring up from the lowland forest and curving up and away.

They moved with surprising organization for such motley creatures. She counted at least four very different sizes of print in the track, some barely longer than her own body (nose to the base of her tail) while some were large enough to crush her underfoot without even noticing.

The tracks were only a few hours old. The swarm must have passed in the early pre-dawn. She strained her memory to try and recall if she'd felt any tremors from down in the sleep-halls of the hollow, but if she were honest with herself, they were too far down and too well-insulated by the soft soil walls to have marked their passage.

She turned her attention to where the trail vanished from sight, curving over and up the slope. The land in that direction was treacherous and, to the mind of her people, best avoided. Gravel slips and rain rivulets ran down between the massive plates of rock that jutted out of the soil, and even though trees and flowers overgrew them, their roots could not be trusted to hold the ground together enough for safe passage of one of her size. Fresh rainfall unearthed and dislodged glassy chips of stone, and the soil turned to mud and slipped between the boulders, exposing treacherous chasms that could swallow an unwary traveler. The shattered earth built up and up until it abruptly skewed and slanted down in a gentle curve, like the ground had been struck with a terrible force and the shattering had rippled out from the center. And in the heart of that broken land, glimpsed fearfully from treetops or the shadow of the stones, lay the stronghold of the Long Shadows.

Once, long redmoons ago, Pip had traveled three days and nights to scale the shattered peaks herself, to see the stronghold with her own eyes (mostly due to a burst of rebellious curiosity after a scolding from Eldest Luma). The works of the Long Shadows could always be distinguished from natural formations or nests - they had a love of smooth things, and the stone they shaped stretched cleanly skyward and bore no footholds beyond the straight, geometric fissures that ran up and through them. So Pip already knew that the stronghold was encircled by a massive shadowcrafted cliff, pale and smooth as ice and taller than trees, and it surrounded the entire stronghold just behind the shattered peaks. Beyond the wall, great columns and cliffs jutted skyward, more smooth handicraft of the Long Shadows. At times they were even spotted outside the walls, tending great swaths of land in the same precise straight lines they shaped their stone. Those tracts bore vast quantities of food in unnatural abundance, some that grew nowhere else in the valley, but the Long Shadows guarded them closely and harshly punished intrusion, and the Eldest three generations before Luma had forbade anyone from entering (or even approaching) their strange geometric works, no matter how lean the winters became.

She debated following the trail. It would inexorably lead her towards the stronghold, but if the creatures were focused solely on the Long Shadows, that was valuable information to bring back to the hollow. No doubt Eldest Luma would be pleased to have yet another reason to avoid the Long Shadows and their works.

A sudden awareness prickled in the small of Pip's back, shivering up into her ears and all the way down to the tip of her tail. Her gray fur bristled and she froze, eyes darting wildly, seeking the source. The feeling had no obvious impetus, but she trusted her tail with her life, and something was happening. Something sourceless, something…

At the base of the root she was balanced on, a sprout punctured the trodden soil and curled upwards, splitting into pairs of pale green leaves. She watched as it climbed to twice her height in less than three beats of her racing heart.

Instinct took over. She scampered up the tree like a shot, finding footholds in the bark with a practiced ease that belied her jolting terror. She plunged into the safety of the leafshadow and clung to a branch, breathing fast and shallow and trying very hard to stay quiet.

Below her, a green carpet spread across the mire as grass and flowers bloomed impossibly fast.

The Weeping Shadow was approaching.

Pip strained her ears and caught the hint of a whisper of movement through the grass, distant and soft but certainly coming closer. It was pointless to cast her eyes towards the darkness - The Weeping Shadow was, in the stories, always swathed in gray, near invisible in the shadow of the canopy, and it passed in many tales without a trace, save for its flowering footsteps as its passage drove the forest to frenzy.

But it never came so close to the stronghold. The Weeping Shadow's domain was the deep and tangled woods, much further into the valley than even the hollow. It haunted the river and the wild places, and its realm was thick with plants of impossible vitality and sweetness - but not even the bravest scout dared its domain, even when hunger was rampant. The fruits of the Weeping Shadow's realm were steeped in an absolute sorrow whose depth defied comprehension, and the slow pulse of its thoughts churned in dark and wrenching misery that could be heard across half the valley. It was too much for the mind to take for long, and scouts that had strayed into its influence took moons to recover from the borrowed grief.

That had been the prickling on Pip's neck. The slow approach of the Weeping Shadow was already casting a pallor on her mind - and it was getting closer.

Pip's thoughts scrambled for her next move. If she stayed hidden, the Weeping Shadow would pass nearer to her than anyone had ever dared. She flattened her ears against her head and focused on the walls around her mind. Could she close herself to it strongly enough to hold out?

A wild fear beat against her ribs. She wanted to stay clinging to this branch forever, but she also wanted to bolt, to sprint the length of the branch and fling herself into open space, trusting the soft soil to cushion her fall - or rather, if she were honest with herself in that moment, heedless of what the fall might do to her. The desperate urge to flee was strong in her people, and here, faced with a terror closer than ever before, it was nigh overwhelming.

But Pip had a third instinct that overruled all others when she allowed it, and it had been slowly growing in her mind ever since she'd slipped from the hollow before the dawn. It was a hunger, of a sort, and one that warred always with fear. The hunger was curiosity, a thrumming urge for exploration and understanding that spurred her on through peril and dark for the promise of clarity on the other side.

The beasts in her forest were descending on the stronghold, and their passage had stirred the Weeping Shadow from its domain. Something was happening - something vast, something perhaps unknowable. But it would certainly stay unknowable if she didn't even try to know it.

And perhaps the Weeping Shadow knew.

Pip had more control than most over the openness of her mind. It alarmed her peers, sometimes, that she could pass among them in silence, unreceptive to their soundless speech. It unnerved them more, for those who knew - from a time when she was more open with her secrets and her strangeness - that she could at times hear the deep thoughts of the Long Shadows, and stranger still, sometimes even catch a shred of their meaning. The idea that the minds of the Long Shadows could in any way compare to the bright, clear thoughts of her people was on the surface laughable, and just under that surface, frightening. Still, she knew it was true. Their minds were dark, slow places, but they contained meaning and knowledge, most beyond the reckoning of her kind.

The mind of the Weeping Shadow was an abyss of grief and sorrow, but if she could attune her senses to it - if she could withstand its pressure - she could, perhaps, glean its purpose in the shattered peaks, and what it knew of the creatures that she pursued.

The underbrush cracked. Pip flattened herself against the branch and peered intently at the sound as the rolling wave of green spread under the tree, blanketing in every direction.

A shape moved in the shadow of the trees, ponderous and slow.

Pip felt her eyes grow hot and stinging, the space behind them heavy with unshed tears. A borrowed bottomless grief encroached on the walls of her mind, lapping at it like a swelling river threatening its banks.

The Weeping Shadow broke from the treeline and stepped forward.

It towered, even from Pip's high vantage point. It was gray and still and almost shapeless in the dim of the canopy, but twin lights glimmered near its summit, pale green like the sprouts boiling at its feet.

Pip's head pounded. The pressure of its presence was terrible. It was vast, yes, but the power of the sorrow within it seemed vaster still - like all the forest around it was desperate to weep, and the Shadow was the only part of it that could, yet it refused to.

The Shadow tilted its head down, and the lights of its eyes vanished in the gloom. But it was not weeping, Pip knew. It was… looking.

Looking at the tracks under its carpet of grass.

Pip gritted her teeth, gripped the branch, and opened her mind.

It was gentler than she had anticipated. The pressure and power was indescribable, but once she stopped trying to push it back, she found it moved her rather like water would - with force, but without pain. It was almost easy to let the thoughts of this vast creature buffet her where they would.

The words in the Weeping Shadow's mind were unknown to her, but she felt a snatch of them repeating over and over again. The words mattered less than the feeling that drove them, and as she focused, she realized that the Weeping Shadow was, in some way, at war with itself; the thoughts were not all in agreement. The repetition smelled of deep, old terror, but its loop was broken over and over again by a different, newer thought - one that Pip herself was intimately familiar with, strong enough that she needed no translation to parse it:

But I can help.

Dimly, in her faraway body, she felt tears pouring from her, hot and desperate from a grief she couldn't fathom. Her claws gripped the bark of the branch. The Weeping Shadow's thoughts, at the moment, were focused on its inner war, but it did nothing to shield Pip from the substrate of its misery. Still, she was onto something. If she could just push through, she might learn what the Weeping Shadow understood of the intruders to their forest.

Pip dug deeper. The Weeping Shadow knew what these creatures were - knew what they intended - believed it could help in some way - but what did it know of them?

Running below the looping dread and the punctuating bursts of hope, Pip glimpsed a glimmering ribbon of understanding wending its way just below the Weeping Shadow's conscious thought. It snaked under the fear, coiled around the thought of help. This had to be the knowledge that had motivated the Weeping Shadow's unheard-of migration. This was the mystery of the creatures answered.

This, perhaps, was Pip's only mistake. As she caught the thread of that understanding, it abruptly yanked against the current and plunged her down, down, down into the icy depth of the Weeping Shadow's truest misery. Its knowledge of these creatures came from the same bone-deep wellspring as the torrent of tears, and Pip screamed aloud as it battered her mind full-force. Alien thoughts crashed against her, unbearably loud; the grinding of bone, the shifting of stone, the pounding of waves greater than any river, the splintering of mighty trees. A twisting, a breaking - a power like a maddened, wild animal, thrashing and uncontrollable, kept in check only by its own terrible exhaustion and grief. She was so, so small, and somehow in the depths of this vastness she was even further diminished, crushed to a single point of light-

And something was watching her.

With a last mighty burst of willpower she released the thought-thread, flung herself away, and tumbled off the branch. It was something of a mercy that she was too stunned to feel the impact, and the carpet of seedlings cushioned her fall.

The first thing she became aware of was her breathing, high and fast and shallow in time with her racing heartbeat, real panic and borrowed sorrow draining away with shocking rapidity. Second, she felt the pain; her head pounding with spent exhaustion, her paws cramped in every joint, her back and shoulders bruised from where the impact of the fall had driven her scabbarded blade against her spine.

The third thing she became aware of was the shadow stretching towards her, claws stretched as long as her whole body, the deep purple of the skies after dusk.

The Weeping Shadow loomed over her, vaster than mountains. Two points of green pierced out from the dark.

She ran.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

[shinjisdone]

When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Everybody Thinks It's Them (2; Savanaclaw)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that 'secret admirer' - everyone wants to help you out...but have their own reason for it.Yet now, it seems like there are quite a few misunderstandings on campus...and everyone thinks they have finally found that secret admirer.

Spin-off of the first 'secert admirer' series + form of headcanons

note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone being mistaken for the secret admirer. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation.]

"Hey...you think he could be the famous admirer of the Ramshakle prefect?"

Tag list: @justm3di0cr3 , @a-small-tyrant , @twistedcece , @savanaclaw1996

1;Heartslabyul

3; Octavinelle

Leona Kingscholar

Ugh...this can't be real.

Savanaclaw students are usually not the type to gossip among each other...but they are cocky, believing their lazy dormleader won't ever hear a word of their rumors.

Well...they were wrong.

The first time Leona had heard of such...stupidity - of him being the secret admirer - he literally pulled a face.

They can't be serious, are they? He doesn't hold a lot of expectations on anyone but he had hoped his dorm wasn't that dumb.

He is surrounded by idiots.

It isn't flattering, it isn't clever to even wonder if the Leona Kingscholar could be the secret admirer. Not the lazy, pessimistic, easily bored Leona Kingscholar.

He is actually someone to approach the topic when he passes by a gossiping group. Telling them with a snarl to use their brain and if they really believe - key word; Believe - that he would do such a thing.

Does Leona show any ounce of passion and motivation to do the things the admirer did? Is he such a lovesick kitty that he'd be cowardly enough to keep his affections secret? Does Leona hold any kind of high regard for the herbivore?

His dormmates fiddle with their words, finding themselves nervous and speechless...

Yet at the last question...

One is brave enough to point out that, yes, dormleader Leona is fond of the prefect! You'd maybe have to really pay attention but once you do, his affections and reliance are as clear as day! ...For Leona's standards at least.

That would actually annoy him.

Pissed off he seems and the students turn tail. It is frightening to see the usual nonchalant Leona being angry and any mention of him and you, especially of his feelings for you (which don't exist!) leave him pissed off.

Usually he wouldn't care...but he can't deny the vexation he feels whenever he just senses people's eyes on him, knowing exactly why they are staring at him.

Idiots.

The dormhead will order Ruggie to put an stop to these rumors, he doesn't care how. The latter feels kind of lost on how to do such a thing, so Leona orders him to send any nosy Nancy to him. He'll have a private talk with them.

Speaking of talks....ugh, it seems like he'll have to talk to you too, to clear his name.

Though you aren't that idiotic to believe that he is the secret admirer, right?

"Listen, herbivore...you know me. You know how I am. I'm not your secret admirer."

He is brief. However...depending on your reaction, Leona might leave with his mood more sour than usual.

Either you wanted him to the admirer...and he isn't. Or you were relieved he was not...meaning you never wanted him.

No matter how it might turn out, Leona will make a face and leave without a word.

Ruggie Bucchi

Eh, heheh...what?

That isn't funny...

Really, really confused. Are people really suspecting him to be the - the secret admirer? Ha! Shishishi! Th-that's ri-ridicilous...!

Sheepishly laughs any questions off. It can't be...are his feelings really that obvious?!

Ruggie tries to shrug them off and get on with his daily life but the more this holds on, the more curious his dormmates become and the more embarrassed and annoyed he gets.

Like, seriously! What's this supposed to be, huh?! You tryin't to ruin his already ruined reputation?!

He can't have that! Just imagining what Leona would do...

Despite the embarrassment, Ruggie is more annoyed than anything. He always saw himself as a sneaky fella, so to hear how clear and obvious his favouring is to you, is...inconvinient.

He first tries to lighten the mood, joking at his own expense that he could no way be the secret admirer. C'mon, look at him!

Cannot really give any reasons to his defense though. It would make it seem like...he likes you less and his hard work that he did for you was for nothing.

The only time he is honest with everything is when he goes to you to explain himself.

"Hey...I know what you've heard and what yer thinkin' maybe, shihishi...but, uh, it ain't me. I mean, c'mon! Look at me! I'm already working myself to the bone, that extra work would leave me bedridden, haha..."

Ruggie clears his throat, sheepishly avoiding your gaze.

Jack Howl

Now this could be interesting.

Suspecting Leona and Ruggie to be the secret admirer is a bit of an far-fetched idea...but most students agree that it makes the most sense if Jack was the admirer actually.

"Think about it!", One students says, "The rough and tough Jakc...he's always taking care of the prefect so sweetly...he must have a secret romantic side that he can only show as the secret admirer!"

Jack is....flabbergasted to say the least.

Him??? The secret admirer - and WHAT ARE THEY SAYING??? SECRETLY A ROMANTIC???

UHM- No! No, that's not true at all!

>:(

He tries to act all offended and angry...but that is a shield to hide his embarrassment.

Jack wouldn't consider himself that harsh...and that reversed either but...him being a romantic at heart secretly and...l-longing for you?! C'mon, that's a made up story! Anyone can see that!

Honestly though! Do people seriously think he'd go out of the way to become some secret admirer to show his aff-affections and l-love to you...?! Th-that's...! Ugh!

Genuinely upset and lost. He doesn't want to hear any of this! Especially since it is true but noone would believe him obviously!

He growls and snarls and while that does scare many away, others believe that only amplifies his true feelings and how he uses an nonchalant, rude attitude to hide them!

Shut up! not like it is kinda true thou

Jack is just...stumped. Completely stuck. He asks for Ruggie's, Ace's and Deuce's help to just somehow...get all of this to stop!

(Ace may suspect him to be the secret admirer since how incredibly and sincerely kind he is to you...and he may be jealous, while Deuce, red in the face, straight up and loudly asks with a stutter if he really is the admirer! - Which Jack immediately denies.)

Ruggie knows Jack to not be careless and as an honest soul, so he suggests to have him clear his name to you. It might help.

So he does. With narrowed eyes that avoid your own, a hand scratching his neck and a deep, scarlet blush dusting his face.

"Uhm...everyone's...I mean, everybody's been so...obnoxiously loud and confident in their claims but...you know it isn't me, right? Because it isn't. I would never lie to you."

[nonstoplover]

flashes of silver ~ lewis hamilton (lh44)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: with the annual fia gala coming up, lewis decides to do something as a kind of thank you to his hard-working team, and invites one of the girls working for mercedes as his plus one.

words: 3.4K

warnings: cheesy fluffy stuff; a possible age gap if you squint your eyes but nothing actually mentioned; probably not accurately written shop scene (if you can't tell, i've never been in any fancy shop lol)

a/n: i had a dream. one simple dream that pulled me out of the past few months' writer's block. it was a bit of a struggle though to kinda get back into writing rhythm but whatever. i needed to get this out of my system before i go mad. first lh44 fic also!

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

"I don't have any dress that's good enough for a gala," she shakes her head ferociously, her eyes not leaving the man standing before her. She still can't fight the small voice in her head telling her that it's just a joke. A prank, probably for the team's social media pages. Why else would he approach her with something so ridiculous?

Under her curious, cautious gaze, Lewis just reaches into his pocket, and without breaking eye contact for a single second, pulls his card out and places it on the desk in front of her. "Go buy yourself something then. You deserve it anyway."

All words leave her mind, it's like her vocabulary has been completely erased. The only thing she can do is allow her eyes to widen in sync with her lips, as she tries to comprehend what she's just heard.

"Come on, take it," he encourages with a small smile.

When she still doesn't move an inch, the man playfully sighs, extending his arm to grab the card once more. With his other hand, he reaches even further, under the desktop to take hold of her hand resting on her lap. A gentle but still dynamic movement later he's pried her fingers open and placed the card in her palm. His own fingers stay there, flesh to flesh, for a second longer, before closing her fist around the plastic and retreating his touch.

As the air-conditioned, cool air hits the back of her hand again, (y/n) wakes from her trance. Her eyes flash up and down a couple times, from the driver to the card and back again. "I can't spend your money. I won't spend your money."

"I have more than enough, it's okay."

"That doesn't change what I said."

"(y/n), please. I already told the entire media team that I'm taking you. I told even Toto." Lewis presses his hands against the wooden surface and leans against it for support as he continues to stand at her desk.

The way he keeps on insisting this for the past five minutes makes her start to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he actually means it, and this is not a joke.

 "Why?"

He can still hear the disbelief in her voice, and has to control himself not to roll his eyes as he giggles. "I already told you like twice since I came here."

"But it doesn't make sense. I mean, I get it, you wanna give something back to the team for their hard work or whatever, but why don't you take literally anyone else than me?"

"You're next in line," he shrugs.

Why do his eyes always have to be so kind and so lovely and so heartwarming and so–, she stops herself before she spirals down that rabbit hole again.

"You've been working here for years, having my back all the time, and so I figured it would be a nice thank you, from me to you."

"You know, an actual thank you would be sufficient," she smiles lightly up at him after a second of silent ponder – the first crack in her indevout façade, and the first tiny wave of relief in his body.

"Okay, you know what?" Lewis pauses, waiting until her eyes flash with pure curiosity, all caution forgotten. "We're going dress shopping together. Right now."

(y/n) lets out a chuckle that comes to an abrupt stop when she sees him hold his hand out, palm up and open, obviously waiting. For her. He means it.

"I'm working," her mind says the first response it can come up with – earning an imaginary slap when she actually realises what she's just said.

(y/f/n) would kill me if she heard this, she thinks with certain memories of her avid LH44 fan best friend appearing in her mind. Who in her right mind would find an excuse to say no to an offer like this from Lewis Hamilton himself?

"I'm sure your boss will understand if you tell him who you were with and why," he chuckles, the sound making the tips of her fingers tingle and her heart flutter.

"Oh, right," (y/n) lets out a laugh, cheeks turning red in slight embarrassment as her eyes flicker down to the keyboard sitting in front of her. Her boss, Toto Wolff definitely wouldn't mind if he already agreed to this crazy plan previously.

"So, you coming?" Lewis wiggles his fingers, gathering the girl's attention. She slowly raises her head, mentally preparing herself for what she's about to do, then as if the world has abruptly changed to slow motion, (y/n) watches her free hand move up and a long second later arrive into his still waiting palm.

Just in time with his fingers tightening momentarily around hers, she can hear her own laughter jingle loud. Is this a dream?

"You're beautiful," Lewis greets her as the chauffeur closes the car door behind her, his smile creating wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – something she's always found absolutely adorable.

"Thanks," she mumbles in response, struggling to keep eye contact when she notices the intense look in his gaze.

"Maybe you could give me your stylist's number."

Upon hearing this, (y/n) can't help but glance at the driver sitting next to her, lips curling into a wide grin, exactly how he wanted. "I don't know, I'd have to ask him first to see if he agreed," she answers and they let out a giggle at the same time, both of them remembering that one afternoon a few days back.

"We really shouldn't go in here," (y/n) stops short on the pavement, her heels pressing down on the asphalt.

"We really should, though," Lewis grabs her hand without even glancing her way, pulling the girl behind him right into the shop.

"Lewis!" she hisses, stumbling in her steps as she rushes to keep up with his relentless pace. "One dress here costs more money than all I've ever earned."

"Then it's good that I already told you I'm paying," comes his immediate, somewhat deadpan reply.

He doesn't stop and doesn't let go of her hand, not until she's in the spacious changing room in the back of the extremely fancy dress shop, along with a mountain of colourful, unambiguously expensive materials. "I'll be out here waiting," he announces, then leaves her with the shop assistant, drawing the heavy, thick curtain closed behind him.

What feels like a million dresses later, the young woman helping her dress lets out an approving gasp, loud enough that even Lewis can hear it from the other side, as he's scrolling on social media sitting in the almost overly comfortable armchair, the sound piquing his interest. With one firm push to her shoulder, the woman twirls (y/n) around until she comes face to face with the huge mirror.

The silver silk is still rippling around her legs from the sudden movement, reflecting the light and thereby making her practically shine. It's modest, with thin straps on her shoulders and the neckline not too revealing, a monochrome, bright silver dress  – and (y/n) has to admit to herself that the material tightly hugging her torso is the most magical thing her skin has ever touched. She feels almost royal in it.

For the first time since they've arrived in the shop, she doesn't feel like a clown and all ridiculous when the curtain gets pulled back and Lewis raises his head to catch a glance at her. Her skin tingles and heart flutters as his eyes move down and then up again on her body just like they did several times in the past hour or so – but the nervous feeling finally gets replaced with something new, something exciting.

One simple, consenting inclination of the man's head in an upright motion, and time speeds up. The next couple minutes go by in a blur, and by the time she at last emerges from the changing room for the final time, now in her original clothes – that feel almost painfully too ordinary after the magnificent dress – Lewis has already arranged everything, and is simply waiting for her at the counter.

(y/n) thinks about the excitement she felt when she woke up in the morning, knowing that in a few hours, her dress will be delivered and she can feel the smooth, cool silk wrap around her body once more.

Now she allows her eyes to truly take in the man next to her, curiosity getting the best of her as she shamelessly checks him out. He refused to let her know what he's going to wear, only making her a promise that they're going to match. Now his body is wrapped in a suit, one that's seemingly made from the same silver silk that she has on, with something white peaking out from under it – but (y/n)'s just unable to look away from the suit itself, not even for a second. She can't help but think about how regal he looks, how he's so easily going to outshine anyone in the room. How the two of them are going to shine together. Silver, like the team they both work for. Like the Silver Arrows.

"Like it?" His voice breaks her out of her trance, and she blinks the thoughts away, hoping the makeup the girl Lewis was kind enough to arrange for her applied some time earlier effectively hides the flushed colour of her cheeks.

She nods. "You look amazing. As always," she adds, almost as an afterthought, eliciting the famous giggle from his lips, and thereby sending the flutters in her whole body into overdrive.

"We look amazing, love," he smiles, momentarily reaching over to squeeze her hand that's laying on top of her thigh, and she has to focus with all she has not to reveal in any way the effect him calling her that has had on her.

How on Earth did I get into this situation?, she wonders, eyes frantically searching for the familiar sight of Lewis in the crowd of people.

As soon as he's left her side, people flocked her like predacious birds. Not just some people, no. People who've been waiting to catch her alone ever since they arrived. People whose work includes creating drama with made up stories and rumours all too often. Journalists.

(y/n) sees no way out as they keep trying to make conversation with her, their questions whizzingly filling her ears and mind.

"Are you his girlfriend?"

"How long have you been dating?"

"It must be serious if he took you to a gala like this, is it?"

"How can someone like Sir Lewis Hamilton, dream of millions of women, who could have anyone he wanted, choose someone like you, plain, and really, a nobody?"

This is the question the driver hearswhen he gets back from the counter offering drinks, a glass each in his hands. His eyes widen, realising his mistake of leaving her alone even for only such a short time. He should've known better. He should've expected journalists here, who would come up with their theories, just because his plus one to this event is a woman they've never seen, at least definitely not with him before. He just assumed – mistakenly, as he can now see – that to a high prestige event like this, such vultures won't get invited.

This is the question that makes his mind cloud with anger. How could any person in their right mind say this to someone, anyone, but especially to such a gorgeous young woman that she is. Without a second thought, he pushes care out the window and behaves on instinct. With a softly spoken pardon, he pushes his way through the group of journalists, stepping up to her side. Even in his slightly foggy state of mind he can see – or more likely feel –the way her shoulder drop a little, relief obviously coursing through her veins finally as she moves just an inch closer to his body. Seeking for protection.

His arm moves next, on its own accord really, as he hands her one of the drinks he's brought, then using his now free hand to snake it around her waist, pulling her tight into his side. All this happens in one short second, and in the next one, he's turning his head to press a soft but lingering kiss on her temple.

Then, as if he's just remembered the gathering of people around them, looks away from her once more, searching non-stop with his eyes until he finds that one journalist who said the final question before his arrival, his stare turning cold and almost deadly. He can faintly hear the girl next to him stutter to get an answer out, but precede her with one simple sentence aimed mainly at that person his eyes are still trained on.

"You mean, how could someone like me get a woman so breathtaking as her, right?"

A beat passes when no one speaks, when no one seems to dare even to breathe, then he continues, his stare finally moving back to (y/n), gaze softening. "Because to be honest even I don't know, still looking for an answer."

Lewis smiles, sweet as ever, as if nothing like that death stare has just happened, before lifting the glass in his hand to take a sip. As the alcohol swirls around his tongue, a sudden thought pops in his mind, and within a second, he's reaching out, and with the backs of his fingers he touches her jaw, to make her turn her head towards him gently. Then, like nothing is more natural than this, he leans in and presses a kiss on her lips. To try and make what he's said even more believable.

The prior couple seconds have already left (y/n) completely bemused and speechless, but this one action of his tops them all. Her heart nearly jumps out of her chest, and she can feel her eyes being extremely wide from the surprise she's feeling, his words being on constant replay in her ears. As her mind slowly catches up to her and realises what he's most probably playing at, she pulls herself together to play her part, not wanting to ruin the act and thereby making a fool out of him – meaning simply melting into his kiss, which is really not that hard, to be frank.

As he pulls away, Lewis gazes at her a little longer than he was necessarily supposed to, then with a simple, murmured excuse us to the journalists and with his hand leaving her waist only to intertwine their fingers, he pulls her away from the spot. He keeps on moving until he's pulled her into an empty corridor, not stopping until he makes sure they are fully alone – leaving that one journalist to stand in shame, while the others can't help but think slyly about what the reason behind his hurried exit with his girlfriend could be.

In line with his abrupt stop, he drops her hand immediately, turning towards her in one swift motion with an unexpected shy, apologising look in his eyes. Before she can gather her thoughts and say anything, his voice already rings out in-between the walls of the corridor. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable – and I truly hope I didn't – and I definitely did not just use this situation for my own gains, to get some juicy stories of me in the papers or whatever, and I will never step over these boundaries again, I just wanted to stop that bullshit that journalist has started."

Thoughts finally start to make sense in her head again, but before she can get a word out, he rambles on. "And I want you to know that what they told was completely wrong. I meant it, what I said back there, word for word. Well, except the part about me getting you since obviously we're nothing like that, but I just wanted you to know that it's the truth."

He would probably keep on talking if it wasn't for her hand gently being placed on his forearm. (y/n) smiles up at him as echos of his last, firmly stated sentence still faintly ring out. "Lewis, it's okay." The driver stops and takes a breath. "You didn't have to do it though, it's not your job to... protect me from anything, especially not from what random people say."

"I know, but I wanted to. Couldn't bear it if I knew you lived on with these words in your head about yourself," Lewis replies with a small smile finally once more gracing his face.

Her eyes break the eye contact as they move down to inspect her shoes, her cheeks suddenly feeling quite hot. "Thank you. It was very lovely of you."

When he doesn't say anything, she takes a deep breath, and with that, looks back up again only to find him wordlessly watching her. Her glance flickers to his lips, noticing some residue of her lipstick smeared around his skin there. With eyes widening, she's fast to reach up and wipe it off, mumbling under her breath something about the deep red colour.

Those heavy brown eyes of his don't leave her face, following her every movement, and the same thoughts come back to his mind that he was thinking right after that very kiss. As if she could read his mind, she continues speaking, now a little louder, braver. "Especially the kiss," she says, though with an even darker red shade colouring her cheeks. "You definitely didn't have to do that, it was believable enough without it."

Lewis thinks for a second, eyes focused on her lips for a moment longer – something that she just catches when she finishes wiping the residue off –, then his glance moves further up her face to stare into her eyes, with an abrupt seriousness and determination gleaming on his face.

"And what if I say that it wasn't a part of that whole play pretend? Not really."

Her breath catches in her throat as her mind scrambles to comprehend his words and what he could possibly imply with them. "What do you mean?" she mumbles in the end, the tips of her fingers starting to itch in their sudden shaky state.

"What if I say I wanted to kiss you in that moment?"

Lewis takes a long second to pause, in which he examines her reaction carefully to know if he should continue or not. He looks all around her face, searching for clues – and easily finding them. In how her eyes sparkle in a way he's never seen them shine before, how her cheeks are flushed bright pink, how her lips slightly open in shock but their corners are curling up into the beginnings of a smile.

He decides he can safely continue.

"What if I say I want to kiss you in this moment?"

Her fingers twitch, her heart skips a beat. In that same second, his fingers reach out to grab hers, pulling them to his chest, only to press them down right there immediately. Through the cold to the touch silk, she can clearly feel his heart beating in a rapid rhythm, almost equalling hers.

(y/n) lets her eyes follow their hands, momentarily mesmerised by how beautifully their skins blend into the other, through the cracks in-between his fingers that are nearly covering all of hers. Then her glance moves higher, right to his lips, before slowly, eventually arriving to his eyes. She doesn't find it in herself to speak, doesn't trust her lips and her voice to be able to say what she truly feels and means, and so only moves her head in the tiniest of nods, careful not to break eye contact.

Lewis has been attentively waiting for her response for several long seconds now, being ready for whatever it might be. When it comes, he jumps on the opportunity like there's no tomorrow, like he's scared she might change her mind if he waits a second longer, and catches her lips with his own in a single movement, once more in the past five minutes, but this time with much more meaning to it.

notes: oh god the way i pictured this so vividly in my head following nothing but a freaking dream my mind came up with... ever since then i couldn't get it out of my head. i know i didn't do it justice with how i've written it, but honestly? i just needed to write it down before i go crazy. (and to think that i'm not even that crazy of a lewis fan... what this could've been if i was?!)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

taglist: formulapierre

if anyone wanted an idea about the dress i had in mind while writing:

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE *  assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary

on purpose. i love him on purpose.

i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.

i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.

take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.

get in there.

you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.

before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.

i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.

sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?

you've been warned.

he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.

hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?

i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.

we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?

if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.

but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.

i actively wish for the sweet release of death.

yes, good, carry on.

i won't hear a word against it.

we're gonna do it together.

i said you look great, baby!

i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

i'm so in love i could die.

you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.

i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.

i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.

you must invent an entirely new system.

a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.

he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.

i've bloody well had it!

we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.

that's beyond our sense of decorum!

i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.

aw, you do care.

if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.

straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.

the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.

you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.

should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?

can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?

what are we even defending here?

history will remember us.

when i sleep, i see you.

i hate this so much.

every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.

we're just gonna fucking fight.

he is my choice.

i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.

i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.

when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.

i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.

your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.

for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.

the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.

i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.

you see, for me, memories are difficult.

never tell me the odds.

i wish there weren't a wall.

jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.

you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.

i'm finished. i don't care.

god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.

the whole world watched, and history remembered.

are you quite finished?

just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.

you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.

[mymanyfandomramblings]

Mabel's perspective in Sock Opera is equally, if not more sympathetic than Dipper's: An Essay

Most people generally wouldn't consider Mabel to have a terribly sympathetic plotline in Sock Opera, even those of us who don't necessarily feel that she's horribly selfish. I think that's because, from a narrative perspective, her plotline is (as it so often is) shafted in favour of Dipper's, and from a viewer's perspective, Dipper's makes more sense. We, as viewers want to know who the author is. We, as viewers, know that Gabe is inevitably going to turn out to be some variety of impossible, and we know that the Author of the Journals is a major mystery. However, from Mabel's perspective, none of this is true, because she doesn't have the luxury of knowing she is in a TV show. Even if you take out Gabe, her perspective still makes perfect sense.

At the beginning of summer, Dipper found this journal, and Mabel has generally been pretty happy to go along with his adventures as the journal has led them, but it's clear she doesn't have the same degree of fascination with it. Maybe she may have been a little intrigued by who the Author is, she's probably a bit curious, but not to the same extent. By the time of Sock Opera, she's probably reasonably ready for the Journal fixation to be over, considering that they nearly all got killed by a shapeshifter trying to find the author. She knows that trying to investigate the author is dangerous--Stan warned them away from the supernatural, they've all nearly died multiple times, but Dipper cannot be stopped. And now Dipper has decided to spend hours and hours and hours, forgoing sleep, sitting in front of a screen, typing in passwords. The fact that Mabel tries to drag him away from it is a good thing--anyone with a relative who spends excessive amounts of time in front of a computer can tell you that. Generally, having someone close to you become deeply fixated to the point of obsession with anything can be challenging, however in Mabel's case, Dipper has become obsessed to the point of prioritising getting into the laptop above anything, and this isn't just a regular hyperfixation: this is a hyperfixation that has nearly gotten them both (plus their loved ones) nearly killed multiple times in the last few weeks. It's absolutely the responsible, good thing for Mabel to do to not enable that behaviour.

And then if you add the puppet show back into the equation, then yes, it is kind of ridiculous of Mabel to put on a whole show of that kind of magnitude just for a boy (regardless of whether the boy deserves it), however, as viewers we must accept that this is, in fact, thoroughly within character for Mabel, who is kind of ridiculous. Any kind of production of that size is a huge commitment, especially if you've given yourself a week to work, and I'm not remotely bothered by the fact that Mabel has to get everyone involved on this. And to Mabel's credit, she does try to help Dipper as soon as he appears to her in puppet form, she just isn't immediately willing to stop the show. Back in high school, my drama class did a play that I mostly wrote, mostly managed and also had a small acting role in (yes, I was an overachiever in drama), and let me tell you, it would have taken a lot to have gotten me to call off the show halfway through, much less publicly sabotage it. A demon threatening the lives of one of my siblings? Probably yes. That probably would have done it. And Mabel does allow the thing that she poured blood, sweat and tears into to go literally up in flames in front of everyone, once she realises that's what she has to do (and personally, I don't think that there's anything wrong with not immediately being willing to drop everything for this. It's not like Dipper doesn't dig in his heels about doing what's best until the very last possible second). I don't know why people insist it's not 'technically a sacrifice', because while, yes, obviously Dipper's life was more important, and she 100% made the right choice, it's not easy to wreck something you worked hard on in front of people.

All this is to say that although it's easy to become irritated at Mabel during this episode because she's hindering Dipper's ability to figure out who the author is, it's also very easy not to realise that she has a thoroughly reasonable perspective, simply because the narrative puts greater emphasis and attention of Dipper's perspective.

[e-claire]

Misophonia sucks so fucking hard and no one anywhere ever wants to talk about it. Literally the only people I've ever had listen to me about my Misophonia are other people with Misophonia. So fuck it, Misophonia Awareness Post or something, I want to vent.

Allow me to describe what it is first for all the lucky people who aren't fucked over. Misophonia is likely an Audio-Processing Disorder (Potentially some form of Synesthesia) in which certain sounds trigger a fight or flight reaction. Trigger sounds can vary and sometimes after long term exposure it can create a reaction to the visuals associated with those sounds. It is possibly genetic, there is no known cause, there is no known treatment, there is only suffering and ways of generally kind of reducing that suffering. When I hear people chewing I am filled with a rage that can only be described as "Bordering on a primal desire to Kill." and there's nothing I can do about that. A family member or friend takes a bite of something crunchy and I have to sit there and exist with thoughts of pounding their fucking skull into paste with my bare god damn hands and then afterwards I have to go back to "being normal". I have to just pretend that didn't happen, I can't do anything with those emotions, I can't put them anywhere, I can't talk about them with anyone or gain any understanding or sympathy from others for having them.

When I see someone chewing food anymore it's borderline impossible for me to remain in the room with them for any more than a few seconds because the mere sight of them chewing makes me physically ill and inspires in me a sense of deep disgust and panic that I could never ever hope to describe.

I tell people about what it's like and I get one of four reactions :

"Oh I think I have that too" With a weird amount of curious excitement at the concept of having a fun new quirky thing to mention in conversations. This means that they don't have it, and they'll then proceed to list off a couple different things that literally no human being likes to hear and how much that thing "annoys them". This makes me want to kill myself.

"Wow, Yikes." Through a grimace. This means I was too open about how it makes me feel and they now think i'm a either a freak, liability, time bomb, or over-dramatic, and will do everything they can to avoid the subject in the future so that I can't make them uncomfortable. This makes me want to kill them AND myself.

Immediately eats something really loudly to set me off as a "joke". This means that they're an obnoxious piece of shit that I have to try my absolute hardest not to beat to death with my bare hands. This makes me want to kill them, if that wasn't already obvious.

"Oh. So that's what this is called." This means they have it, and we can both engage in a brief period of mutual trauma sharing that helps us know we're not alone, and that our curse is unfortunately shared with others. This makes us both somewhat melancholy, and kinda ruins the vibes until something fun happens.

And then we get into the "How do you make the pain stop", and good news! You can't. There is no way to make it stop. But you can make it hurt less with ✨Spending Unbearable Amounts of Cash✨

You can buy a billion different types of earplugs that will all do great at muting the world but always leave you incredibly unaware of the world around you and leave you fucked in-terms of listening to media.

You can buy normal headphones that will kind of work but never mute the world around you anywhere near enough and vaguely frustrate you constantly, but hey at least you're a bit more accessible! Try combining these with a combination of rain and static noise playing at all times in the background for an extra layer of silence :)

You can buy ANC headphones that cost infinitely too much money and are almost always built to break so that they can farm cash from you in repairs, but the ANC is so useful despite not working perfectly that you can't really exist without it so you're gonna spend 200+ dollars every couple years because you don't have a choice, and spend every single day 24/7 wearing hot heavy over-ear headphones! Use the Rain and Static Noise combo with this as well for the best ANC effect.

And inevitably, all of these options will give you hearing problems, potentially make you aware of new trigger sounds, and always leave you a step behind everyone else when a conversation happens. Pro-Tip : For when the sounds are really intrusive and you're on the verge of a breakdown, Combine ANC with Ear Plugs and the R&SN background audio to basically kill noise in it's entirety for a little while :)

AND NOW WE GET TO THE PART WHERE I SAY WHAT THE FUCK CAN YOU NORMIES DO TO MAKE OUR SUFFERING LESS FUCKING CONSTANT.

Listen to us. Don't ostracize us for experiencing emotions we can't control and don't mean or want to act on. If you can, try your best to do the trigger noises quietly, and try your best not to do the trigger visuals in-front of us. We know it's not something you can control entirely, but if you can make the effort to make our lives suck less, we'll really fucking appreciate it.

And if you try to get back at us during a fight by eating something really crunchy to abuse our disorder for your benefit, I swear to god I will hunt you down personally and subject you to the most violent and painful torture I can manage before killing you and hiding your body somewhere no one will ever find it so that your loved ones never have the closure of knowing if you died or if you're still somewhere out there. Thanks for reading even though I know you didn't because the length of this post is frankly unhinged and i'll probably only get like 2 likes at best.

[matan4il]

Most of the time, I don't bother talking about the hate and harassment I get, because I don't think haters deserve the attention. The person I'm gonna write about definitely doesn't deserve any, but they've started harassing others that I know of, not just me.

So this is basically a warning post for Jewish bloggers and bloggers who are allies to Jews, and a request for anyone who can, to report and block this person (if you want to warn other bloggers, then please consider a reblog, too). @staff, This is also for you, proof of a pattern of harassment and abuse. Please do something and protect your Jewish users and their allies.

They first commented here, denying the antisemitism of Hamas, with the url @grizzlyismyspiritanimal and they seem to change their url quite frequently. For now it's @fancowboy but expect that to change again. Since IDK if Tumblr will let the mention (@'ing their url) hyperlink to their blog, here's how you can check out what their current url is, so you can report and block them. Go to this post where they're tagged as @grizzlyismyspiritanimal and hover your mouse over their url, you'll see their blog pop up no matter what new url they changed to. Here's a screenshot of what that looks like:

Here's their first comment on my post, along with my reply. Tumblr arranges these comments with the oldest at the bottom, click to see the image better:

Of course they never provided a link sourcing their claim, instead they provided a link to an op ed, which was not written by anyone affiliated with Hamas. This link did not support their claim that "Hamas specifically stated," but that didn't stop them from ignoring the fact that they couldn't prove their claim. Next, they repeated an already refuted antisemitic conspiracy theory (and I linked them to a refuting source, which they just ignored), while using strawmen arguments (attacking statements I didn't make). Obviously, none of this addresses the point actually made in the post they were commenting on.

When I called them out on the antisemitism of their whole narrative, they pulled the "I can't be antisemitic, because I'm Jewish" line of defense, while also bragging in the same comment about not going the easy route by doing that:

I no longer believe people who say antisemitic things, and then use this defense, after several have been proven to have lied about being Jewish, but more importantly, and this is the point I made to @fancowboy, Jews are not immune to internalizing antisemitism, and repeating antisemitic narratives. But I was curious whether there was any sign of this person having any sense of a significant Jewish identity on their blog. When I went on there, one of the first posts I came acorss was an antisemitic one, claiming that Jews have stolen the Star of David from the Muslims... I know there are a lot of anti-Zionist Jews out there, and that many of them are very capable of saying antisemitic things, but I don't think even they would endorse this false claim.

What's ironic is that the post shares a screenshot from Wikipedia, which explicitly mentions that this Muslim kingdom that existed in the 13th century AD (roughly 700 years ago), adopted the six-pointed star, due to the Muslim belief that it was a symbol on the ring ("seal") of King Solomon, a Jewish king who lived about 3,000 years ago. In other words, this post literally points out that Muslims borrowed this symbol from Jews, not the other way around. And just for historical interest, the first archeological find of Jews using the Star of David is dated to the 6th century BC (around 2,600 years ago).

I pointed out to @grizzlyismyspiritanimal / @fancowboy that I no longer believe they're Jewish, because I don't believe any Jew would reblog this antisemitic lie. In response, not long after, this "I'm not a coward" and "you would've blocked me (aka fanatic)" person blocked me. Instead of addressing what I said, or taking responsibility for their wrongdoing, and deleting this antisemitic post. Our exchange started on Jan 5 IIRC, this post was reblogged by them on Jan 4, and as of Jan 25 it is still on their blog, as you can see here (post and current date highlighted in this screenshot):

A minute after they blocked me from the above blog, they commented on my pinned post with links to my fandom content from another blog, @verygardenerland and this comment made it clear that it was the same person. I made a mistake, I wanted my fandom space free from antisemitic harassment, so I deleted that comment, which means I don't have that piece of evidence that it's the same person, but I do have another bit of proof. Remember how this person claimed to be Jewish? This is how they presented it:

(again, using a strawmen, I never said all Muslims are terrorists, and never would, because it's simply not true, and if anyone made that claim to me, I would be correcting them)

Well, this is the VERY similar way @verygardenerland talked about their supposed Jewish identity, in a post they made solely to harass and DARVO (Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender) me:

Jews were almost completely ethnically cleansed from Muslim majority countries, so the likelihood of a random online stranger being a Jew from a Muslim country is generally incredibly low to almost non-existent, and two who just so happen to both harass me on my blog one minute apart is probably less statistically likely than winning the lottery.

It's poetic irony that the one comment the above post got from another blogger, is someone else also calling this person out on the antisemitism of what they're saying:

Gotta love the bonus misogyny with "bitch."

I'm also going to offer you this following antisemitic comment (which distorts the Holocaust, and refers to Jews insultingly as "the chosen ones"), which I also don't believe any person with an actual Jewish identity would make:

And here's also one of the last comments this person made from @fancowboy before blocking me on that blog and continuing from @verygardenerland. Just notice how we have the same antisemitic abuse themes from both of these blogs:

Once more, extra touch of misogyny with "that much of a pussy."

(I have to address the white phosphorus claim. There are 2 ways of using it in battle, one legal, the other's not. Israel stated that when using it, that's only in the legal way. There is no record to show the contrary. People just exploit the fact it's used, to pretend it's automatically illegal. But I accept this is an antisemitic libel against the Jewish state, that sadly some Jews might repeat. The rest is what makes me think this person isn't Jewish)

@verygardenerland noticed I write fandom meta, and harassed me on these posts. Here's one example:

Then they searched related tag/s, and proceeded to harass me by calling me names in comments they left on random posts from other fandom members. These are posts that had nothing to do with me. One of the people on whose post they were calling me a Nazi is someone I have never even spoken to. The OP deleted the harassing comment, but this time I did get a screenshot before that, so here it is, as an example:

Now, on top of all of the above, @verygardenerland also started stalking my main blog at the same time they made their first comment from this url, as well as my two back up blogs. One's last post was on Mar 2022, the other's on Apr 2021, so it's completely pointless to follow them, other than as an intimidation tactic:

And they sent me anon hate. The thing is, they made it explicitly clear through what they said and the language they used, that it's them. They sent more than one message, but the one I'll attach here was obviously meant to freak me out the most, because it falsely starts out as a fandom ask, and then transitions into abusive language, as well as telling me there's more blogs they're stalking me from, basically making it clear that even if I block this url, I'll still not be safe from their stalking and abuse:

From a certain point on, I told them that whenever they make a comment to me, all I'll do is just remind them repeatedly that they're an antisemite, which is exactly what I've kept to. That's when I even bothered to respond. I postponed blocking their second blog, 'coz I wanted to put this post together first. Now I'm done with them.

To wrap this up, here are some final screenshots of their antisemitic abuse, how they obsessively comment on my posts, or posts that in their mind are related to me, and how they have started directly addressing random people who are commenting on my posts, telling them not to talk to "it," meaning they're also using de-humanizing language when referring to me, and of course once more employing the DARVO tactic by accusing me of that which they're guilty of:

My activity feed yesterday:

And not just yesterday. Love the bonus hateful language towards those who are disabled...

And this is just one of their comments on a post simply mourning the death of Israeli soldiers, and putting it in the context of multi-generational Jewish trauma:

To summarize again, please:

report and block this person

reblog this post if you feel comfortable to, in order to warn others

@staff please do something to stop the abuse. Thank you in advance!

[ventique18]

Dreamlike

Malleus x Yuu♀️ (nameless) short one shot.

⚠️ Suggestive warning!

It's a hot summer. For Lilia, summer always makes him think of very specific things: beaches, watermelons, swimsuits. It's the perfect time to enjoy one's youth. Now, he's not actually young anymore to be bothered by such frivolities, but he is bothered anyway. It's because his young master, who is quite literally young and should, indeed, enjoy his youth, is instead spending time cooped up in his musty old library and eating nuts instead of watermelons or mangoes or coconuts.

That simply won't do. So, with the power vested in him as the boy's guardian, he manages to forc--convince him to join a youth summer camp.

Malleus Draconia isn't particularly pleased. But since he's getting bored of the same tomes and scriptures anyway (the scheduled procurement of new books isn't until a few months more), he accepts and uses it as an excuse to loiter around the mountains by his lonesome.

Until one night he isn't quite alone. He isn't sure if it's good or bad fortune, but for the first time in his traditionalist life, he experiences something truly shocking.

He walks in on a woman bathing. In a river, by the forest. Completely, utterly, naked. He watches her a second too long, he's ashamed to confess.

"Like what you're seeing?"

That snaps him back to reality. Flustered, he blinks and his mouth babbles and his hands shift in many different combinations of poses that he dreads the woman might think he's performing an odd sort of avian mating dance.

"No," He speaks quickly, "What I mean is, please do not misunderstand and think that I find you foul or, unattractive. I don't. I do think you're rather fascinating. But it's not that I'm watching you deliberately, goodness no. Please do not be afraid as I do not plan on doing anything more than look. I mean,"

He sucks in a sharp breath. He's not making any rational sense, and he's sounding like a creep, "I am merely curious."

For all his attempts at sincerity, he's failing horribly as he just cannot take his eyes off her.

But she laughs, and with a shake of her head, asks him playfully, "Alright stranger, can you hand me my towel?"

He does, and he almost stumbles from how shaken he is from this whole ordeal.

Much to his surprise, the woman does not think badly of him at all. She, in fact, asks him to come back tomorrow night. Same place, same time. Now, he's no fool and knows better than to fall for such suspicious traps, so he ignores her request and walks through a different trail the following night.

... Until he circles back and finds his feet perching on a familiar stony path; soles drenched and socks dampened by the moonlit water.

There she is, swaying languidly in the clear river. He can fully see every inch and curve of her alluring body, yet she does not bother to hide herself nor reprimand him for his obviously captivated gaze. And whether by pure curiosity or something else entirely, he finds himself wading through the waters and towards her, when she smiles and gestures for him to come a bit closer.

Nothing much happens that night, except for her asking what kind of flower he likes. He answers and asks her in turn if she likes berries, and if she prefers strawberries or blueberries or any other berry. What's your favorite color? Do you take care of any pet? As odd as the situation is, he catches himself looking less and less at the soft slopes of her womanly body and more on the tugs of emotions at the corners of her mouth.

He finds himself visiting her again the following nights. They talk about anything and everything, and very soon he thinks she knows more about him than anyone else he's ever met in his life. He finds comfort in her, and he wonders if she feels the same. He becomes a bit confident that she does, when she asks to touch him a week later.

For the first time in his life, he undresses in front of another not to dress up, but to... simply undress. He cannot fathom what comes over him. But he lets her roam his body, from the tips of his fingers to the ridges of his peculiar horns. From the slope of his nose to the dip of his hip. She stops before she can cross the boundary of appropriate and inappropriate (though one can argue their circumstance is not a very usual one), but rather than taking a step back, she moves forward and asks him,

"Would you like to touch me too?"

He does not reply. He cannot think. And when the head refuses to function any more, it's the heart that takes over the body. He cannot hear anything but the loud thumping of his chest, but he nervously perseveres and places a palm upon her left breast.

Thump, thump, thump.

Is that the blood that runs through his veins, or is that her heart resonating with his, through the red that dusts her cheeks and the fingers that shakily reaches for his own?

Thump, thump, thump.

He doesn't know. He cannot think. Not when her smaller hands intertwine against his much larger ones. Not when her legs coil around his waist, arms wrapping tightly around his back and nails sinking deep across the skin above his spine. Not when his mind is occupied with the soft enamor of her thighs, his fingers squeezing her tightly as he pushes and pulls her against himself; sinful sweat washed away by the unsullied waters.

What a terrifying feeling. He's never felt so out of control. He knows not what he's doing, he has nothing planned out in his head. All he has is this strange electricity coursing through him-- a magnet that draws him to her. He doesn't want to let go. He cannot let go. Not even when a wave of ecstasy crashes through his entire body and threatens to knock him out cold. Not even when they settle on his lodgings and bury themselves in the warmth of sheets and blankets.

Even then, he buries himself in her warmth.

So when he wakes up to find her nowhere to be seen-- not in bed, not in his immediate surroundings-- he no longer feels out of control. He is not in control. The trip has come to an end, and so did his dreamlike encounter.

Only the wanton marks left on his skin are proof that it was, in fact, not a dream.

---

"Malleus, cheer up a bit, why don't you? You wouldn't want to scare your... let me check my notes... Ah yes, your 57th potential wife away, no?"

"And it's the 50th time I am telling you this: no one would ever want to waste an hour with me. Much less a lifetime. You would think the first seven were proof enough."

"Don't you say that! You're a handsome young man, if you would just learn to smile--"

"Enough, Lilia. This is the last time. If this still doesn't work out, I would rather let my bloodline die with me than suffer through any more humiliation."

*click* *creak*

"Hi there, stranger."

"..."

"Like what you're seeing?"

"... You have a lot of nerve, standing me up like that. And suddenly you show up-- out of nowhere-- with a cheeky little smile? This audacity calls for a fitting punishment, don't you think?"

"Ohh, scary. I like it. Lay it on me. Or would you prefer it in me?"

"Witch. You deserve a life sentence. Lilia, take out the marriage papers."

💖💖💖💖

Notes: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ONE PARAGRAPH LMAOOO! I just wanted to share that I like cheesy cliche stories with a bit of sensual flavor and was just gonna share a rough plot. Somehow it turned into a short fanfic HAHAHA

I really really like the thought of Malleus catching Yuu bathing and doesn't really do anything to hide his interest. He's an honest man. It's a staple in any of the MalleYuu AUs in my brain.

[anti-spop]

Hello! I just saw ur post saying g hintlow is badly written in your opinion. Could you please tell me why you think so? I'm kinda curious?

I also didn't really like huntlow since it kinda came outta no where all of a sudden but what do you think??

*cracks knuckles* (just kidding lol)

Honestly, I just think H/untlow has several writing problems. I'll be pointing out the main reasons I think so under the cut. If anyone who follows me or comes across this post ships H/untlow, it's totally fine, just please don't send me hate for what I'll say here:

Hunter and Willow have nothing in common. The show forces the "half a witch" thing onto Hunter despite the fact he was never called that anywhere in the show, he's usually just called annoying or a brat. Besides, Hunter could be a metaphor for disability considering he doesn't have natural magic powers (until the show decided to kill off Flapjack, but I'll get into that later). However, Willow is not the case. She may not be good at abomination magic, but she's incredibly powerful with plant magic. But for some reason, the show treats these experiences as equals, even though that's a thing Hunter has more in common with Luz than Willow (and in this case I'm not talking through a romantic lens).

Hunter and Willow are out of character. Hunter, the prodigy and the emperor's right hand, becomes utterly pathetic and wimpy just so Willow can look like a badass girlboss. And Willow then just comes off as cruel sometimes. I appreciate Willow for being nice but also being a badass, but even then, Willow was never cruel prior to her meeting Hunter. She apologized to Luz when she realized she could've hurt her, and when Willow met Gus she was patient and understanding, teaching him a breathing technique to calm him down. I'm not saying Willow has to be overly nice, but she just randomly captures Hunter to make him join her flyer derby team. And at this point she doesn't even know that Hunter is the Golden Guard, so she just... attacks a random kid and scares him for no reason. Worse yet the fact that she drags him into the ground THE SAME WAY BELOS DOES in Hollow Mind. Even after Hunter tells her he's "half a witch", Willow isn't patient with him, she's just a brute again. Which is my next point:

Unhealthy power dynamic. Hunter refers to Willow as "captain", and it's honestly a red flag to me. I am NOT saying Willow is abusive. However, we have to remember that Hunter's abuser uses his position of power to mistreat him. Hunter looks up to someone who's not an equal to him and in turn, he does not value himself. And Willow never seems to realize it and explicitly say that she's not his leader, she's his friend. This pairing is basically the girlboss/malewife model, but not only does it not make sense, it's not healthy for Hunter to fall in love with someone who has power over him, and who might be paralleled to his abuser as I pointed out before.

Ruined character arcs. I think most of us agree that Hunter's character arc was unsatisfactory as he became another Caleb without ever processing it, but Willow was definitely done dirty as well. Willow never had her own episode, not even Understanding Willow was about her, it was more about Amity. Any Sport in a Storm also focuses more on Hunter. Even Gus had more character development than Willow, despite the fact he was also done dirty in the end. Willow's breakdown wasn't carefully developed, it was never hinted in Thanks to Them or anywhere before that. It came out of nowhere in For the Future, and in turn it just pushed Hunter's character (and Gus, literally) aside so he could save Willow. And this is yet ANOTHER point I hate:

Willow only reciprocates Hunter's crush when he gains powers. Seriously, for the longest time I didn't even think H/untlow was going to be mutual. Only Hunter seemed to be attracted to Willow, by blushing and being shy around her. Willow never seems to see Hunter in another light in the following episodes, not even in Thanks to Them despite them living with each other for months. That only happens in For the Future, which left a bad taste in my mouth. Like I said before, Hunter might be considered disabled, but his disability is "cured" with magic, and ONLY THEN does Willow fall for him. That contradicts the entire message of the show, which welcomes and celebrates disabilities.

And overall, Hunter and Willow never have a genuine emotional connection. Hunter has more connection and things in common with Luz, Gus, and even Amity (and sadly, his parallels with Amity were never really explored after Eclipse Lake). Hunter and Luz don't have magical powers. Hunter and Gus are both taken advantage of by others, and they have an identity crisis, not knowing how to trust themselves anymore. Hunter and Amity then, they were both raised in an abusive household and they're expected to be someone they're not, and they have to push everyone else down so they can be better. But Hunter and Willow don't share this kind of connection. They might touch on the "half a witch" thing but that never deepens. And in For the Future, it comes off as rushed, and Hunter has to push down his grief for Flapjack to save Willow. Not to mention Gus and Hunter never get to talk about Caleb - Gus always knew about Hunter's secret, and not even THAT gets a satisfying payoff because the show is more concerned in making H/untlow canon. But that would have to be its own post.

Sorry this got long, lmao. I have very strong feelings about how H/untlow was handled. I actually used to ship it at first, I think it COULD'VE worked. But they don't even seem to be close friends at the very least. It sucks because even R/aeda was written better despite the fact it had less screentime than L/umity. Sure, Eda and Raine were ex-lovers, but I thought their relationship was written very well for the most part. I don't know how the writers dropped the ball with H/untlow this way.

[buckttommy]

JACK! I am deeply curious to know where YOU stand/fall on the poll you posted?

Objectively speaking? Yes, they have endgame potential.

But a lot—and I mean A LOT—of work would have to go into moving that potential from a theoretical possibility to a genuine reality. Some of that work has already been done, what with Tim being intentional about developing a love interest for Buck that's not segmented away from the rest of the firefam, but that's the easy part tbh. They'd still have to 1) establish Tommy's character as a character unto himself, 2) define Buck and Tommy's relationship outside of the shadow of Buck and Eddie's relationship, 3) introduce a character that would be Eddie's endgame (because that's something you'd have to consider now that you're intentionally severing this will-they-won't-they bond between Buck and Eddie), and 4) convince the audience that these are the two endgame ships they should be rooting for without making them feel like they're being convinced, because that would blow the whole thing up in their faces instantly... all in a limited amount of time (9-1-1 isn't going to last forever).

So. Yeah. A lot of work.

All that to say, it's not impossible. I have a tentative idea for how it could work (a thought exercise, if-not-this-then-that)—what kind of character would need to be introduced for Eddie, what kind of archetypes would need to be in place for Tommy + Female Character, what kind of plots and tropes would need to unfold on-screen in order to not just neutralize the die-hard fans, but sway their opinions toward these two ships, etc. all by taking into account 9-1-1's existing and brand new audiences. But the writers/Tim would really need to sit with the decision and decide whether or not it's worth the effort to establish TWO endgame ships for their most popular characters when said characters are already six seasons deep into an accidental marriage with each other.

This is why I say that Buddie is only thing that makes sense. It's the only ending that does the characters and their journeys justice, sure, but it's so much more than that. There are layers—complicated and tangled layers—that would cost (literally!) more money to untangle than it would to just say "thank you" to the writing gods for hand-delivering an endgame ship on a silver platter and just going with the flow. You know? Yes, Buddie makes the most sense narratively. Of course, it does. But technically? It truly does not get much better than this.

You don't have to like it. You know? You don't have to like Buddie at all. But you have to recognize that this is the dynamic that most shows dream of—accidental or not. How they started—what was intended for their relationship—doesn't even matter now. What matters is where they are, and where they are is at a crossroads where they can either go with the flow, or do a complete overhaul that would run the risk of shattering everything. And, I have to give credit where credit is due—if anyone could pull this off, the 9-1-1 writers could. They are incredibly strong and skilled at what they do. But Tim et. al. need to make a choice, and they need to make it now, because if they wait too much longer, the story is going to start to drag. It's going to start to feel lazy. People aren't going to be satisfied with the "Buck and Eddie are getting their shit together so they can be ready for each other" excuse forever.

Now. Me personally? I'm in it for the long-haul. I love Buck and Eddie, I love Buddie, so whatever happens, I'm here for it. I've already said a thousand times over that their relationship could go canon at any point, even in the final episode (though I want there to be at least two seasons of them together before the show ends), and I would be completely satisfied with that. But we're rapidly approaching the point of no return, wherein Tim etc. need to make a firm decision and stick with it. If they've decided Buddie? Great. Good. Can't wait to see it. But if they've decided on something else, they're the ones that need to get their shit together and kick it into high gear quickly.

TBH.

But anyways.

[somerandomdudelmao]

Hi

So first thank you for your artwork, but also cause you started me on ROTTMNT fandom and helped me find so many amazing artists, writers, AU's etc.

Your art is amazing and depictions of all the turtles and Casey seem so in character in the same time being perfectly indulgend fluff/angst mix.

Your posts about drawing and learning more about language actually motivated me to going back to drawing first time since middle school and not to pressure myself to much so thank you again!

But back to question(s) part if you don't mind answering:

- For how long have you been drawing (professionally and not)?

- Do you have anything similar to Ko-fi or is there any other way to support you?

- Do you do commissions? If yes how it works?

- Is there chance in the future for more F!Raph? Like him bonding with Casey (maybe him telling curious Casey about how they were when they were growing up and Casey disbelief of what Sensei Leonardo was like. Or classic Raph caring about their siblings and Casey trying to learn how he menages that). Idk anything, cause after you showed me possibility I'm F!Raph starved

If you know any great fanart/fanfiction with Future Raph I will also gladly hear about that!

Hope that wasn't too long, and again thanks for your work!

Thank you:3

- Unprofessionally, I've been drawing literally my whole life. I always enjoyed drawing and did it almost every day if I could. But I was a very bad student and didn't want to learn anything at all, so my drawings were pretty ugly.

I started actually studying constructively four years ago and two years ago I started working professionally.

- No. Don't have ko-fi or Patreon or anything. I don't know if it makes sense for me to start one, since I don't want to give any special treatment for the money. I want all the people to be able to get everything I do at all times. Like..equally. And if everything I do is available to everyone as it is, why would anyone pay for it?

- No, I don't do commissions. Maybe I should give it a try. Idk

- Well, I have something in my mind about Raph. I can't say in advance because I improvise 90 percent of this comic and usually the plot twists are sudden even for myself. But I definitely want to delve into Raph's character development and backstory

My favorite fanfic about Future Raph right now is "Raph (Waits) Alone by uncouth_peasant" I think this fandom is sorely lacking stories with him that delve a little more into his life than his death.

[junkopottershima]

An Early 2000's Child's Observation on Zutara Shipping War.

I awoke from my slumber upon discovering the Avatar fanbase, and the absolute shipping war that I never really gave a shit about until now. Zutara is a relatively new ship to me, as is any other ship that isn’t canon, so I’m gonna run through the list of anti-zutara arguments that I’ve found, and list out my takes on them. I’m doing this, because although I see lots of love for Zutara, there’s some aspects about Katara and Zuko’s relationship in the show that makes me question how well their “chemistry” would actually work. For that, I’m genuinely curious and even politely asking “Zutarians” to please step up and respond with their takes on arguments against Zutara. Though, I should mention that there's going to be some anti-zutara takes that I don't agree with. I'll just be getting them off my chest. Welp, here we go now:

"Zutara can't work because it's Oppressor x Oppressed".

I've seen people saying this, and then saying that you can only "truly" agree/disagree with this point if you're an oppressed ethnicity, class, or whatever. Well, I guess as an African American woman, I honestly think the argument that "Zuko and Katara absolutely cannot work out because he's the colonizer and she's the victim" is rather dumb and blatantly ignores the fact that Zuko was trying to change his ways. Like, that argument is so stupid to me, it's almost offensive. We see Zuko change and try to keep changing his perspective on other nations and foreigners, and the step he takes to do that is by standing up to his father on the day of the eclipse and declaring his new mission to find and help Aang and his friends stop the war. Ozai wasted no time trying to do what he wanted since day 1 of Zuko's life, which was to end him. Zuko put his life on the line to change his ways. If we're going by the logic that Zuko can't be healthy for Katara because he's an oppressor...what the fuck was the point of him trying to gain their trust and trying to help Aang take down his father...if he's an oppressor? If we're going off the logic that Katara should not trust Zuko because he (more like his father and father's army) is an oppressor, shouldn't that apply to the rest of the Gaang as well by the fact that each of their nations and cultures were/are threatened by the Fire Nation? Going off of that logic, it becomes easy to say that Zuko should have never gotten a chance to even be friends with Aang, Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Suki just because his family consists of war-mongering assholes, but why would anyone say that when it's shown that Zuko is actively trying to change his ways at that point? Also, if we're go there (the colonizer stuff), it's almost like saying white people should never be dating any nonwhite solely because many whites in positions of power abuse it to subjugate nonwhites. It blatantly ignores the real-life contexts and instances where individual whites mean no harm and are able to get along with other races. It blatantly ignores the instances of whites being able to find genuine love with people from other races, even in hard times like the Civil Rights Era and various wars. We can see that it's fucked up to generalize...so why do we gotta do that with Zuko? Keep in mind, I'm talking about the point where Zuko is officially redeeming himself.

"It would make no sense for Katara and Zuko to end up together at the end--They only had limited time together".

Now this, I definitely agree with. I understand that Zutarians loved the hell out of Zutara and rooted for them to be together at the series finale, but the in-lore time and development Katara had with Aang, and Zuko with Mai is objectively more grounded and overwhelming than all the "evidence" that Zuko would have had a great romance with Katara. Even with Zuko having redeemed a lot about himself in his arc at season 3 and AFTER Katara learns to trust him, there's literally no time for them to develop any romantic feelings or a relationship because Sozin's Comet was just like several days away at that point. Even in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se, Katara's moment with offering to heal Zuko's scar and to really establish a bond was interrupted by Aang and Iroh before she could waste her spirit water on him--THEY HAD NO TIME. Meanwhile, Mai and Zuko were childhood friends, and knew each other for basically their whole lives. Plus, they were dating throughout the series. In practicality, isn't it going to be Mai that would make the most sense as a love interest due to the fact that of all candidates, Mai understands Zuko the most? Isn't it Mai that Zuko has took the time to write a letter for in the prison, smile and laugh for? With Mai, we see Zuko at his most happy. Point is, Mai is objectively a very important love interest to Zuko, so even though they broke up several times before, I don't think Zuko is the type to just throw his tears away and immediately move on. I mean seriously, Jin was more like a rebound fling and Zuko didn't even blink when he dipped back to the Fire Nation. And I don't think I need to pull up the entire show just to list examples of Aang and Katara having each other's backs and developing an unbreakable bond. Zuko and Katara didn't have the time to develop romantic feeling for each other at their best and even if they had an infatuation for one another, wouldn't Zuko's bond and romantic feelings for Mai predictably just bubble to the surface again? I mean Zuko lost no sleep when he basically ditched Jin and went straight back to Mai. No offense to anyone who loves Jin/Zuko, I'm just telling it as it is.

"Zuko does not consistently consider Katara's feelings".

Again, this is true. After returning to the Fire Nation, Zuko isn't shown to be shaken by his betrayal to Katara. He's just not thinking about her during his time back home. But what I definitely want to talk about is the part where he joins the Gaang, and Katara is vocally distrustful of him. This is the aspect of Zuko and Katara's relationship that has always stopped me from actually shipping them together. Katara is vocal, again and again, that she doesn't trust Zuko because of his history with basically being a serious asshole bounty hunter for the avatar, because of him betraying her trust back in Ba Sing Se, and the fact that she personally blamed Zuko for her mother's death due to associating him with Fire Nation scum. Now while Katara is clearly bothered by his presence in the Gaang, Zuko literally didn't care and was on-board to keep on trucking. It's only after it gets too annoying does Zuko now care about Katara's feelings, and what does he lead with? "This is so unfair!". Upon confronting Katara about her feelings, Zuko immediately declaring that Katara was being unfair just reveals that Zuko was thinking more about himself in this moment. That Zuko didn't do anything wrong, that Zuko must not have done anything wrong because Zuko does not even remember what he did to piss off Katara. Katara is the one that has to check him by explaining why she doesn't like him: his betrayal, her perception of his affiliation with the Fire Nation, and PROBABLY the fact that he sent 'sparky sparky boom boom' man after Aang. Right after that, Zuko goes to see Sokka about he and Katara's mother, and while that's very considerate of Zuko...it shows that he's kind of ignorant about properly apologizing for his wrongs. He skipped doing any apology for what happened in Ba Sing Se, and went straight to "Okay, what's the deal with her mom?". It's nice that Zuko gave Katara the option to do a Quentin Tarantino mission on the dude that murked her mom, but the fact that Zuko put Katara's vocal disapproval and Ba Sing Se event kind of on the back burner of his concerns isn't quite a good look. It shows that Zuko, although in redemption, still possessed from listening problems.

Also, when searching for different takes on Zutara, I found a post by a particular user that I don't remember. But basically, in critiquing Zutara the user mentioned Katara threatening Zuko that she would "end his destiny personally" was 'abuse'. I believe this user is called, 'erin-the-brave'. Well in my opinion, that just wasn't an intelligent perspective on Katara's dialogue. In Katara's perspective, Zuko has been chasing her, Sokka, and Aang across the world to capture him, which to her would mean the doom for the world. Zuko taunts Katara about her mother's necklace, using it to try bringing her into giving up Aang. Zuko is randomly living in Ba Sing Se, and right after she has a short bonding moment with him, he immediately choses to help Azula kill Aang. Zuko then sends an assassin after Aang, in which that assassin locks Katara and Toph up in a jail cell as bait. I get that Zuko helped free her dad and Suki from prison, but goddamn, how the fuck else do you expect Katara to react to Zuko's sudden redemption? Even if he IS trying? Katara isn't a fucking mind reader. Like how did you genuinely expect her to react? "Oh you poor thing! Let me welcome you with wide open arms so I can kiss your ass and wipe it with a sample of spirit water"???

"Oh Katara's being abusive to Zuko because she was telling him that she'll end his life if he hurts Aang again, even though Zuko HAS repeatedly tested everybody in the Gaang". Could it serve as an argument that Katara wasn't given much time to learn with, and trust Zuko in order for a romantic relationship to work? I think so. But would I say Katara's reaction to Zuko's second redemption is 'abuse'? No. I think it would be overreacting to even call that verbal abuse, because in Katara's shoes, who wouldn't be wary of Zuko?

"Zuko was pushing Katara to be a murderer in The Southern Raiders, he was bringing out the worst in her".

I actually disagree with this. Zuko merely told Katara that he knows the guy who killed her mother, and that would help her find him. If I recall correctly, he didn't push or pressure her into actually killing him. He merely offered her a journey to find the fucker who took her mother's life. Katara contemplating murder, going on the trip, and even blood bending during the mission was 100% her own choice. The fact that Katara almost instantly chose this journey with Zuko seems to imply that this was something she always wanted to do, but just never got the chance for: confronting her mother's killer. Even after Katara chose not to kill the guy, Zuko didn't hold her choice against her. He doesn't belittle her, nor did he ever pressure her to twist Yon Rha to death like a pretzel. Zuko actually tells Katara that her ability to be better than Yon Rha was a person strength, and Zuko even seems proud of her in that moment. He gave Katara the chance for closure, she took it, she tackled the confrontation in her own way as Zuko let her have her spotlight, and they walked away with him being proud of her.

"Zutara would be better if you just replaced Zuko with Azula in the ship".

This is a joke, right? Because the only way this could get funnier is if you threw in Ozai.

"a fic which does 'ATLA’s plot goes almost exactly as canon, except my favorite ship happens' is not clever or innovative".

....it's fanfiction with endless creativity, writing styles, and brains behind it. Rewriting the show's beginning, midsection, endgame, or all of the above is objectively creative and at least a little innovative. Fanfiction absolutely can be creative and innovative, you don't have to lie just because you don't like a ship, my brother.

"Katara offering to heal Zuko's scar is actually evidence that she does NOT fully understand Zuko"

I've seen this take and I think it's one of the best arguments against Zutara, to be honest. A user named 'Maikingsenseofit' explained it so well, I'm just gonna copy and paste it:

"Upon seeing his scar, her immediate thought is to use spirit water to heal it. While this is an outstanding demonstration of kindness for someone she is not obliged to show it to, let’s remember that right before this Zuko says:

“It's okay. I used to think this scar marked me. The mark of the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever. But lately... I've realized that I'm free to determine my own destiny, even if I'll never be free of my mark.”

This. Right here. It is so important to understand. Zuko’s scar is so much more than a scar. It represents his trauma from his father, the trials and tribulations he faced to earn Ozai’s approval, and is a further reminder that he is the black sheep of the family both figuratively (a son who could never live up to his title, who could never bend like he was supposed to) and literally (the only member of a pristine royal family with an ugly brand on his face).

But his journey with Uncle Iroh in Ba Sing Se allows him to come to terms this trauma, or moreover this scar. It’s a reminder that we cannot escape our past or try to stifle it. We must embrace it and learn to accept it. It is only then that we are fully liberated from the shackles of our trauma and can fully determine our paths forward.

Katara’s offer to get rid of Zuko’s scar represents a regression of Zuko’s hard earned realization. He had just come to terms with his troubled past and accepts the ephemeral mark on his face. He even wears it with pride. He doesn’t try to hide his past or stifle his trauma, not anymore. It is an integral part of who he is. It is what makes Zuko, Zuko.He vocalizes this to Katara immediately before this. Katara however, fails to understand the significance and the journey behind this mark, largely in part because she wasn’t there to witness it. Her attempt to heal his scar falls flat in several ways, but one main reason is because just because something is healed physically, doesn’t mean it’s healed emotionally. But it’s important to consider something else here: Zuko never explicitly asks Katara or verbalizes a desire to get rid of his scar. Based on the earlier conversation, he’s finally gotten around to embracing it and welcoming the significance behind it. What Katara offers is in stark contrast to what he said. He allows her to touch his scar, but it is evident that she would never heal it. Why?

From Belen Edwards, despite the traumatic memories associated with his scar, Zuko never seems particularly ashamed of it. Throughout season 1, his hairstyle ensures that it's completely exposed, showing his identity to the world. In the second season, Zuko tells Katara that he's beginning to accept that he won't be rid of the scar.

And yet despite hearing the last part, Katara still offers a solution to Zuko to get rid of it.

This is where we see that the so called deep understanding and caring that Zuko and Katara held for each other is beginning to crack. Where is Katara’s deep and profound, soul-ular (get it, like cellular?) understanding of Zuko that no one else, other than Iroh, had of him? It begs us to ask if Iroh was in that room, given the journey he embarked on with his nephew both physically and emotionally, would he have encouraged Katara to get rid of this mark? The answer is obviously no. If there is a deep vulnerability and intimacy that they share with each other, and no one else, it does seem pointless given on both ends neither understands the full depth of the other’s situation. This is exemplified by Zuko immediately forgetting his entire interaction with Katara (but not His interaction with Aang interestingly) afterwards and still failing to understand why Katara was mad at him, even AFTER she explicitly tells him. And this is exemplified by Katara not fully acknowledging and understanding Zuko’s acceptance of his scar and offering a surface level solution that will never address the emotional significance and tribulations that come with it. Nothing against either of the characters by the way, and I need to emphasize that in bold font. I am simply observing their interactions and dispelling these “Word of God”-like claims.

Consider Zuko’s interactions with Mai. When he first sees her after years of banishment she gently his scar and touches in it not in an attempt to get rid of it, but because it is a part of Zuko. And when it comes to kissing Zuko, it means touching his scar, touching him in his entirety- including his physical and emotional marks. There’s a deliberate reason why the storyboard artists included Zuko’s scar in the scene. Because she’s known Zuko her whole life and was there when he first received it. Zuko and his scar are not two separate entities for her. They are one and the same"

End dialogue.

What should be mentioned is that Zutarians do like to say that "Katara is the first person to ever touch his scar"...which to be honest, I just don't believe. I just don't believe that Katara got to touch his scar before Iroh or Mai ever did, because it would insinuate that Iroh and Mai have never caressed the side of Zuko's face to comfort him, and after all those years of being close with them. Then there's the claim that Katara is the only person Zuko opens up to in the Gaang, even though he talked about some of his feelings to Toph, talked about some of his feelings to Sokka, and talked about some of his feelings to Aang. When Zuko snatched Aang and hustled themselves into a cave in the middle of blizzard nowhere, Zuko opens up about his rough childhood to Aang. Yes, Aang wasn't conscious to listen, but Zuko DID talk to him. Perhaps Katara is the first member of the Gaang that Zuko opened up to (the "mom talk" in Ba Sing Se) without the other person being too out-of-conscious to listen, but she's definitely not the only one that Zuko opened up to. She's technically not the first person to give Zuko a chance, but Aang was the one who did it right after he was freed by Zuko (who was disguised as the Blue Spirit).

"Toko = Zutara = Zukka = just about any fan pairing/OT100 involving Zuko".

I don't entirely agree with this. For context, a user by the name of 'atla-recluse' posted this in regard to Zuko shipping:

"Toph, who actually wanted to go on one just to hang out with him. Toph, who tried to speak to him about her personal struggles (as they walked together in search of Aang). The sort of thing an actually compassionate and reflective boy would have at least tried to sympathize with, even if only briefly. Instead, he immediately shuts her down. Seems he didn’t have a second to waste on some dumb little girl, right? This same girl who would later on take moments out of her time to sit down with him and comfort him (The Ember Island Players). Someone’s always there when he wants support. An emotionally volatile 12 - 13 year-old comforting an even more emotionally volatile 16 - 17 year-old. Not a good look. And yet…Toko = Zutara = Zukka = just about any fan pairing/OT100 involving Zuko. And the reasons why they’re shipped always seem to be the same, save one little difference here and there. It’s always about pleasing Zuko and his you-know-what. Pardon the innuendo and my mood."

I agree that Zuko was kind of a jerk to Toph with how he dismissed her, even though he dumped his emotions out and let her give some reassurance. Zuko went on a journey to free Hadoka from prison with Sokka, and Zuko went on a journey to give Katara closure for the fucker that murdered her mother. Although Zuko has streaks of selfishness in his good deeds, it should still be noted that he does care enough about Sokka and Katara to help them in regard to their families. Meanwhile, Zuko factually never even said Toph's name during the entire show's runtime. I'm not saying that Zutara is a perfect ship, but I am saying that it IS different than Toko.

The Final Point to mention: They just ain't into each other".

And although I like checking out Zutara fics and seeing what creative combinations the Zutarans had to bring for over ten years, I still don't truly ship Katara and Zuko because they're just not into each other. Look at the Ember Island play scene that depicted Katara and Zuko being secret lovers in an affair. They literally cringed away from each other. They didn't blush or smile, they CRINGED.

So far, those are my takes on this apparent "war" with the Zutara shipping. So here's where I casually call up hardcore Zutarans to ask a genuine and polite question: what is your response to these arguments against Zutara? Will you still ship them after these arguments? I would really like to know your perspectives, and to see if my mind can change. I don't hate Zutara, though I'm not sure if I ship Zuko and Katara either. Again, that's my actual take, and I would super like to read what Zutarans would like to say about all this.

[pigeonflavouredcake]

Here's my unwanted opinion on some witchcraft books

This is a list of opinions I have on some popular witchcraft, occult and practitioner related books. I don't talk about anything I haven't read myself.

This is in no way stopping you from reading them yourself, it's just what I think of them as an experienced practitioner and pagan.

I now have a Goodreads account you can look at if you're curious what else I've read but it's a mess and I've just added my bookshelf on in bulk.

Lisa Lister - Witch

To get this out of the way. It's bio essentialist crap and we all know this by know but it bears repeating. This is an example I've used in my grimoire of how transphobia seeps into spiritual spaces and goes unchecked under the guise of feminism and women empowerment. Arguing that a witch's power comes from her womb as a bowl of nature and creative magic. If that's what you like to draw from then all power to you, I have no problem with that. What I have a problem with is that Lister directly infers that the title of 'witch' is exclusive to this specific demographic of women.

I find her statements gross and dehumanising to women and her argument falls apart completely when you remember that not every woman has a womb, big duh moment I know. It correlates with TERF ideology that certain women are inherently more powerful because of a female reproductive system as opposed to women as a whole being powerful because of their autonomy as human beings. "But if that's true then what's stopping cis men, trans and nonbinary people from being practitioners?" LITERALLY NOTHING!

Sky Alexander - The Modern Witchcraft Spell Book and The Modern Witchcraft Grimoire

Very simple. Pretty cover. Overall they make for ok resources for beginners but once you're out of the beginner phase they really fall flat. Alexander doesn't provide much context when referencing certain tools and practices and tends to confuse witchcraft with wicca.

The Farrars - A Witches' Bible

Dated. Uses the G slur. Their books are all mislabelled wicca which makes sense because these books have been around since the 90's when there wasn't much of a difference and you can tell. They do not hold up to today's standards. They are a good example of how practices have historically been conflated in pop culture.

Does discuss ritual nUdity (they call it skyclad) and includes pictures. I wanted to mention it here to not surprise anyone in case any of you aren't comfortable with it.

Rachel Patterson - Grimoire of a Kitchen Witch

A book about kitchen witchcraft that doesn't include any kitchen witchcraft. It's more like a basic beginners grimoire. Very repetitive.

Features a chapter on hoodoo which I'm unsure about. I don't know anything about hoodoo or rootwork but I'm assuming it's a practice exclusive to the black community in America due to it developing during the period of enslavement in the US. I'm also assuming that Patterson isn't a part of this community due to being white and British. If I'm wrong and Patterson is genuinely part of the practice and can honestly speak on the topic please correct me.

Scott Cunningham - Encyclopaedia of Magical Herbs

A good resource for correspondences, easy to digest but Cunningham focuses on wicca (again) using wiccan practices like complementarianism and gendering nature which to me makes no sense (I know about the law of polarity but I do not agree with it). The pictures of plants are nice but the folklore provided for them is pretty minimal. You can find all the same info for free online.

Judika Illes - Encyclopaedia of Spirits

Honestly not that bad. There's a lot of information and it's pretty consistent throughout. It's a huge book though, it can be kind of overwhelming but they take from multiple sources when discussing the mythos of deities which is a plus. The pages are very thin and delicate which can make it hard to read the text.

Joey Hulin - Your Spiritual Almanac

it's eh in the broadest sense. I liked the folklore and the eco action sections but I didn't really absorb any of it. a lot of the corresponce lists was information I already knew about. It felt very repetitive. Would have loved to have seen more detailed information about the changes happening in nature each month.

Rachel Pollack - Seventy Eight Degrees of Wisdom

Pollack is very informative, and honestly a great resource for tarot work, she knows her shit and isn't afraid to info dump. The only thing I didn't really like is all the mentions of dualism like of mother v father, male v female but that's entirely my issue and it's the nature of tarot to be dualistic, It just isn't a necessity to me and my practice. Still a great book.

Aleister Crowley - Magick

A great example of what not to do. Appropriates dharmic practices and Jewish mysticism. When he wasn't stealing from other cultures or being a massive contrarian Crowley was writing about sex magic and it's discussed here in uncomfortable detail.

[bonefall]

Just curious, but why did you decide to change Onestar pardoning the Dark Forest trainees to punishing them? Was it just to service A Vision Of Shadow's conflict, or were there other factors involved?

It frustrates me that in canon, there's no lasting repercussions for what happened in Po3 and OotS, almost as if the series just wanted to wash its hands of it.

Breezepelt is established to be an upcoming problem, and that goes away. All of the leaders shrug and move on. Bramblestar and Squirrelflight are happily together with bio babies after he treated her like garbage for 6.5 books.

We only really got any conclusions to these problems in SEs, where they feel rushed exactly because they were capping them in hindsight.

So you could say this change is "to serve the conflict of AVoS" but that wording feels dismissive to me. I feel like I'm fixing a problem. Arcs SHOULD feed into each other, no? Isn't the strength of WC the way that we get to follow the cats through the generations? See current events become history, and watch how small things cascade into big things?

And Onestar...

We're trying to set up that Onestar is becoming a harder and harsher person as he's consumed by the pressure of leadership, and his trauma from his near-murder in the WindClan Civil War. We are about to watch him become a MAJOR antagonist of AVoS, slamming an embargo down on ShadowClan until they deal with The Kin.

So how does letting *another* set of attempted traitors get off scot free really serve that? It doesn't make sense to me in-canon either. He refused to punish Breezepelt's mother when she was part of a violent insurrection and look at how THAT turned out!!

I think the end of OotS is the perfect time for him to go scorched earth, and show that he's beginning to consider leniency as a weakness. He also punishes Crowfeather earlier at the end of Po3 when Hollyleaf reveals the secret, in response to BB!Crowfeather being more loud and dramatic than his canon counterpart, cold and detatched.

Canon Crowfeather: "Everyone is stupid except me. I can't stand all of this. I deserve more respect even though I refuse to give it to anyone else."

BB!Crowfeather: "MY HEART SMOULDERS LIKE A PEAT FIRE, FOR YOU! LEAFPOOL, I'VE BEEN AS HOLLOW AS A DALE SINCE YOU LEFT ME" (nightcloud is literally right there. Leafpool is trying really hard to calm him down because he's making a scene and she really doesn't want MORE attention drawn to the romantic fling she had years ago and massively regrets)

But anyway, that's off on a tangent lmao. Bottom line is; it is to serve AVoS, but that's my goal with BB. To strengthen the narrative.

[dandyleyen]

Dungeon Meshi - My Thoughts (Ch1-10)

Each section gets written out as I am reading. Keep in mind that I have finished episodes 1-12 of Cooking in Dungeon and that I have read chapters 27-31 (excluding 28.5)

Chapter 1.

I assume we’ll get info in this later on but I wonder why the country was sealed away in the first place.

“I bestow my entire kingdom upon the one who defeats the magician." - The King (presumably) I know that the anime does get into this a bit more as we go on and that a new king (or queen ?) would be crowned eventually but I wonder why it is that the king (if he is who he says he is) wants to allow his kingdom to be given away. Curious.

Side note, but I adore Laios talking about the dungeon ecosystem and food chain. Would love to seen an in-depth trophic web with different ecosystems of the dungeon. You could also include the factors that aren’t natural to the ecosystem, so like,,, the various races that go into the dungeon and how they effect the environment around them with adventuring and other things. I wonder if there are any concept maps made already for this type of thing. We’re seeing a basic food chain but I want it in depth !!

Laios is very cute, send tweet !

Chapter 2.

I do find it very sweet that Laios is asking Marcille if she wants anything specific to eat.

Laios is such a little weirdo. God, I love him. This was also the first occasion of me wanting to try one of the foods they made. The tart looks really good and I'm currently regretting reading this before dinner :|

Chapter 3.

I had it in my mind that chimeras were like a very specific animal combo, but hearing Laios calling the basilisk a chimera put that into perspective for me. Like,, yeah no that makes sense. Interesting.

Chapter 4.

Marcille and Falin on the front page :( Guys.

The episode for this was a rough watch for me because of how Marcille was getting treated tbh, and it's similar now while reading but I did feel more with the show. I get the concerns that the party has, because they need to hurry (mind you, Laios literally holds them up down the line with the painting stuff in the other level), but implying she is already being a bit of a burden by saying she'll be "more of a burden" if she collapses is,,,, not Chilchuck's best moment.

"Not being useful to anyone makes me feel so lonely..." - Marcille I liked her already leading up to this but this was one of this things that got me to latch onto her so quickly. I do appreciate that Chilchuck did initially go to apologize for having called her a burden, and that Laios pointed out that everyone was useful in the team but with different strengths. Them :(

Chapter 5.

Chilchuck fighting for his life and trying not to get his shit rocked by the traps going off is incredibly funny and I feel for him. My neurotic little guy,,, love him.

Laios wanting to take the bones home is incredibly endearing. Me too, buddy, me too.

Chapter 6.

Touden siblings flashback !! I care about them so much, you guys.

Laios looks so dejected about not being able to eat living armor,,, what a freak /pos. He isn't wrong though, if you can beat it you can probably also eat it.

Chapter 7.

MARCILLE WEARING THE ARMOR IN THE FRONT PAGE ??? Oh my god . Christ. Not even a warning ? God. Oh my god. I'm kicking my feet and giggling, y'all she is so,, . Christ.

Love that Laios got to discover something that likely no one else knew about just because he was soo hell-bent on eating different monsters.

Downside: I couldn't rock with the meal in this chapter. Too... mollusk-y. Mollusks freak me out.

Chapter 7.5.

Ohhh this is everything to me. Monster biology !! We get to learn more about how monsters are seen and spoken about in-universe. I adore this. I can't remember if the anime shows any of this section, but I think it's an incredibly fun part of the world-building. It makes it feel real.

Chapter 8.

This is incredibly nitpicky but it's a little annoying when people use "symbiotic relationship" to ONLY mean a beneficial relationship on both ends. Chilchuck asks if the vegetables act as parasites to the golems and Senshi says that it's the opposite and then proceeds to call it a symbiotic relationship because they help one another. He's not entirely wrong, but symbiotic relationships include parasitism ! Mutualism (the relationship between the golems and the vegetables), commensalism, parasitism, and competition are all symbiotic relationships. Again, incredibly nitpicky but this always bothers me.

"It's a crime to tamper with magical creatures without permission" - Marcille Girl,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, don't even talk about crimes rn when you know damn well what you're getting up to in your free time*

On another note, I love how we learn more about Senshi's motivations in staying down there and all he does to protect the ecosystem functions.

Chapter 9.

One of the first signs, to my knowledge, that the dungeon is acting strange. The red dragon itself (himself ? herself ? theirself ?) is acting a bit strangely ! We learn earlier on that red dragons aren't very mobile and the characters assume (hope, really) it would be resting after such activity, but here we learn that it's on the move and showing up closer to the orcs. The orcs have pretty much been here the longest and even they see that as odd. Makes you wonder.

The baby orc ! What a cutie. I love that the kid is the one to suggest they share the meal and that Marcille tries to smooth the situation over. I like how fuzzy the orcs are. It caught me off guard in the anime but the fur is a neat touch.

Laios not really considering the possibility of defeating the mad sorcerer and becoming king. Pretty boys are often allergic to thinking.

ALSO, Laios talking about Falin always gets to me :(

Chapter 10.

Is it even necessary to tell y'all that I immediately latched onto Kabru ? I'm transmasc, ofc I latched onto him. Same with the anime. It was funny to get invested in him only to see him and his party immediately getting their shit rocked.

We're being told again that the dungeon has been acting strangely, which is not new info to us but it does help to build a case for it. Kabru points out that he's been told about the dungeon layout changing day-by-day* and the monsters becoming more aggressive.

Ah. Marcille essentially flash-banging the group (and the bugs) is incredibly relatable. I can't do bugs. I cannot and I will not. I know the meal looks incredibly pretty, but I physically would not be able to consume it knowing that it's just,,, bugs. I don't even eat lobster and shrimp due to how bug-like they are. It's bugs !

---- *Asterisks-marked comments are marked because they are points I know that become relevant down the line because I've either seen it already or read about it already. I will wait to get there in the chronology to speak more on it, but this is my way to point out some foreshadowing that I am aware of.