#but for now. it'll remain outdated

[thedomesticanthropologist]

Slowly replacing Astarion's clothing in game is really like... significant.

He never got given anything new. If he stole or bought new things they must have been taken from him- just think about his skills as a rogue, the nights he was out, and yet his clothing is ancient and repaired many times and it'll click for ya

So when you get him new armor, putting away the faded filigree from 200 years- an outfit outdated but so dapper it may very well have been what he'd been buried in as a noble the night he clawed his way out of his coffin to get to Cazador - it just kinda hits different.

Now, in the context of the game of course your armor changes many times, you take what you can get and don't get attached cause you're likely to need to replace it for an upgrade soon etc etc.

But his camp outfit. The threadbare, carefully laundered ruffled shirt and leather pants that have been re-stitched along the seams untold times so he can remain presentable. To show he cares. To show its important to him to look good. If you choose to give him new clothes to wear every night,

You're giving him (likely, unless his clothing got rarely replaced due to being utterly destroyed during torture or accident) his first new wardrobe since he was alive

Comfortable thick fabrics that were put together within the last decade, not the last century. He can't see himself, doesn't know how it really looks, but he can stare down and guess. You can dye his clothing too, and if you take that as literal (like magic dye that can change clothing could exist and not just be a game nechanic for the player to play with) then you can imagine him going through seller's wares when you find them, picking out the rarer dyes in his favorite colors.

Making his new clothing his

Wearing something that he's never had to lure someone to their death in for his Master. Wearing something completely separate from his past.

And maybe carefully folding his old outfits, putting them away in a traveller's chest. Maybe he feels attached to them, like that rag of a blanket we see him taking with him places. Maybe he keeps them forever. Maybe not. Maybe after everything's said and done, he burns his old clothes.

I have feelings about Astarion and his relationship with clothing and armor OK 🥺

[scarapanna]

!! INFO POST [2.0] !!

Hiya folks!!

Finally decided to rewrite my pinned since it needed a nice refreshing update, this thing's two years old or smth lmao

Anyhow for any new lurkers over here: Hello hello!! I go by Beetle 50% of the time and Scara the remaining 50%. Feel free to use whichever you prefer really! All is good.

Jokes aside jokes aside, I am (As of writing/editing this) an 18 year old aspiring artist, I go by she/her pronouns, and sometimes I post a few things here and there but not that often to be completely honest with y'all. Pretty active some days while some others not so much, very mixed activity rate overall.

Lastly, english is not my first language so apologies for a few mistakes in advance!! I'm still learning.

• TAG MAP •

Beetle's ramblings: Main tag for any rambles/ooc content

Beetle's art: Art tag!!

Beetle's headcanons: Headcanon tag!!

Askbox stuff: Tag for general ask answers, in character or out of character.

Silly AU asks!!: Second ask answer tag!! Exclusively for AU related questions, usually paired with the first one.

Sillystring content: joke content tag!! Just for giggles

▪︎ AU LIST ▪︎

Storybook!AU: first post

Intertwined Opposites!AU: ref sheets (The previously linked info post is outdated but the information on this one isn't!! It'll do for now)

Bound To The Skies!AU: first post

Tapestry's Wispers!AU: main post

Virtuous Advice!AU: main post

Wavering Lies!AU: first post

▪︎ SIDEBLOGS ▪︎

@ask-macy-the-mossfly [ON HIATUS]

@petals-and-ink [UNDERGOING A REWRITE/ON HIATUS]

• OTHER PLATFORMS •

My youtube archive!!

My Ao3!!

▪︎ ◆ ADDITIONAL NOTES ◆ ▪︎

In a very light hearted tone, please dni if you're under 14!! Just to be sure and all

I'm okay with reposts of my artwork as long as I'm credited, though if possible I'd appreciate if you'd let me know beforehand!! Same thing is valid for profile pictures, but absolutely not for AI of anykind. That is a straight up no from me.

Lastly, I welcome asks and feedback/criticism, but please try not to spam my inbox if possible! I'm slow with replies sometimes but I'll get to it eventually!!

[spencewalterreid]

American Teenager

part 1. part 2.

Summary: Ethel deals with the death of her father and her sexuality while Spencer grapples with how to address her crumbling mental health.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Ethel Cain (p)

Category: Angst, hurt/comfort (come on y'all know the routine by now)

Warning: discussion of war, house parties, witnessed makeout session by a third party, teenagers being drunk, dry humping, dubious consent (not sex, but like. heavy petting), suicide attempt!! you have been warned. forced gagging/throwing up unrelated to an ed. Please see master list for overall warnings for the whole series.

Word Count: 6.4k

Author's Note: I absolutely flew through this one. Enjoy the long chapter, because next week will likely be much shorter. It'll be setting up for Spencer's FBI career, the beginnings of joining the BAU. Ignore the timeline please:) I'm not gonna fuck with trying to make him one of the founders. just preteeeeend that they had all the technology they have now back in the 80s<3 it's fanFICTION for a reason xoxoxo. It'll be less of Ethel's pov except maybe some meandering daydreaming. Mostly Spencer-centric before we pull away from him for a while for Western Nights. I think that's all<3 enjoy!

PLEASE NOTE: reblogging is the only way to promote fics on tumblr!! if you enjoyed this PLEASE reblog and let me know!

September 3, 1976

It’s uncharacteristically cold for September; a crisp 36 degrees. Fitting, given the setting.

Last night, Daddy died. That’s it. There’s no other way to put it. There’s no way to say it in which wouldn’t sound like a lie; too soft to be honest. Mama won’t tell Ethel how it happened, and her older sisters have remained eerily silent. They haven’t spoken at all.

Allison found Mama, or so she assumed from the scream last night. She knows it was in the bathroom, because when she scrambled out of her threadbare twin-sized bed and down the hall to investigate, Hope, Allison, Joanna, and Mom were gathered around the doorway. When Ethel asked what was going on with tears in her voice, Mom turned around and grabbed her by the wrist, dragged her down the hall.

“You’re hurting me!” she’d shouted, but it hit deaf ears. She’d cried harder at the purple she knew was colouring her arm.

Mama tossed her back into her bedroom and locked the door from the outside. Joanna came in the next morning to let her out; they were going to the schoolhouse so Ethel could get enrolled. She’d never been to school before.

The building was concrete and empty. It was bigger than it needed to be, bigger than what was warranted with the amount of students it had to hold. It was laced with something desolate, as though anyone who passed through its hallways would be stung with a desperate loneliness. She felt it when she pressed the front doors open, and she saw it on Joanna’s face, but she wasn’t sure if the expression was there before they left the house, so she couldn’t be sure it was caused by the school.

Joanna signed papers that Ethel was sure were meant for Mama, and nary a word was spoken aside from an introduction delivered by the older sister. They were there for maybe half an hour as Joanna scribbled in silence, only broken by the turn of a page. When she was finished, she laid the stack down on the front desk and mumbled thanks before leaving without checking if Ethel was following. She was.

Anyway, that was yesterday and this is now, as much as Ethel wishes it weren’t. Mama dressed her in thick, black tights and a long, black dress with shiny, black shoes. She wonders why funerals are supposed to be black. Black is the devil’s colour, she thinks absently, rear end going numb from the outdated bench under her in this stuffy old church. The same one Daddy did his sermons in. Not anymore, she reminds herself.  If Daddy’s supposed to go to Heaven, shouldn’t everything be white? She wonders if Daddy would go to Heaven after all. He must, she’s sure. After all, he spoke His word at every chance he got. Especially when he came to her bedroom when Hope was sleeping on the twin-sized mattress on the other side of the bedroom. The Bible says you are mine to do with as I please, he’d whisper near her ear, so be quiet. Later, when she’d ask him why her and why not Hope or Allison or Joanna, he’d tell her, it’s because you’re my favourite. You’re the littlest one, God’s gift to me. And she was the favourite. Daddy would hold her hand when they were in public, he’d keep his hand on her thigh in private, or sometimes her chest, or sometimes her butt. He was always touching her somewhere, making sure she knew she was safe. He was protecting her. He never did that for her older sisters, even though they were so much prettier. They were lucky to look so much like Mama. Ethel looked more like her father and she always has.

The only person that speaks to Ethel all day is Hope, the sister closest to her in age. Only 9 months older. When they were lowering the casket, Hope had squeezed Ethel’s hand and said, “He’s finally gone.” At that, Ethel had ripped her hand away and shuffled closer to Mama. Why would she say that? Daddy was never anything but good to them. Even when he was hurting them, it was for their own good. He only ever once broke skin on each of them, and it was when he gave them their Mark of the Lord when they turned 10. He’d given them cross tattoos with his pocket knife, right at their hairline. It was always covered by bangs, of course, because otherwise the Heathens would want to hurt them for their faith, but Ethel was grateful for the gift. Daddy said it would keep evil away, keep the demons from possessing them. She’d let him do it without fighting, and she only cried a little bit.

Mama hadn’t let Spencer come to the funeral, so once everyone has gone to sleep, Ethel tries to climb out her window. She slides the wooden frame up without a sound, glancing over at Hope every few seconds to make sure she doesn’t wake up. She puts one foot out the window then the next, but as she wasn’t looking where she was stepping, her foot slipped and she fell, scraping her leg before she found purchase on the windowsill.

She supposes the sound woke Mama up, because she hears stomps down the hallway. Desperate, Ethel tries to pull herself back up, but she isn’t strong enough. A delicate hand wraps around her wrist, yanking her up back through the window. She hits her head on the way.

“What the devil are you thinking?” Mom yells. Once Ethel is safely back in her room, Mama rears back and smacks her across the face. “Stupid girl,” she continues. “Just because Joseph is gone, you think you can sneak out?” Mama’s fingers tangle in Ethel’s hair, yanking hard. “I asked you a question! Answer me!”

“I’m sorry!” Ethel sobs. “I don’t-” a hiccup. “I don’t know!” She turns her head as much as she can to try to see Hope out of her peripheral vision. She can’t see Hope’s expression, but she notices that her sister is sitting bolt-upright in her bed.

“Oh, you don’t know, huh?” Mama keeps hold of Ethel’s hair, dragging her toward the bedroom door. Ethel topples over at the change, but Mama doesn’t let go to let her get back up. They continue like that down the hallway, and when they approach the door to the basement. Mama finally lets go of her hair but stands behind her with her arms crossed. “Open the door.”

With shaking hands, Ethel does as told, and Mama pushes her down the stairs. Ethel cries out as she feels a crunch, her shoulder hitting the corner of one of the steps.

“Maybe you’ll figure out what you were trying to accomplish after a couple of days down here. Stupid whore.” Mama shakes her head, slamming the door behind her daughter and locking the door with a dull click.

Are you listening? Ethel prays, shaking with tears. I need guidance. I’m sorry to bother you, I know it’s late and you probably have better things to do, but my shoulder really hurts. Can you help me?

She sighs, turning on her good side. Daddy died today. I’m sure you know that, you’re probably with him now. Can you tell him I miss him? I’ve been bad, Father. I’m sorry. I tried to go see Spencer. I know you probably don’t like him, but he’s really nice. If you knew him better, you might get along. He tries to pray. I don’t know if it works because he doesn’t go to church very much anymore, but he does try every night. He told me he prays mostly about his mom. Is she really possessed? She’s been nice every time I’ve talked to her, but maybe that’s because of the Snake’s deception.

Ethel sobs when another sharp pain hits her shoulder. 

I’m sorry, I’ll stop talking about him. Please help my shoulder, and make my mom feel better about Daddy. I know she misses him too. Amen.

***

September 6, 1976

“Ethel?”

Soft footsteps on the concrete rouse Ethel before her name does. She looks up, trying to support herself with her elbow before she remembers her injury with a sharp, tearless sob. She sits up using her abdomen, then pushes herself with her feet toward the wall, careful not to let her bloody back touch it. “Please! Please, don’t-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” comes a soft, sweet voice. “It’s okay. It’s just me.” Once she steps out of the stairwell and into the fluorescent light, Ethel finds Allison’s face, pinched with worry. “Are you okay?”

Ethel replies with a whimper, her good hand finding her sling. “It hurts.”

“I know, honey, I’m sorry.” Allison sets down a plate of food Ethel hadn’t noticed until now. It looks like cut up chicken with mashed potatoes and corn. “I made you dinner. Mama’s at church.”

At the new information, Ethel tucks into the meal with her hand on her good arm and murmurs a thank you through the food.

“I need to tell you something,” she says gently. Ethel nods to spur her on but doesn’t look up. Allison shifts uncomfortably. She chews on her words for a moment, then: “Joanna left.”

Ethel chokes and tears fill her eyes. She sits up, resting her potato-covered hand in the air, forearm on her bent knee. “What?”

“I’m sorry. She, uh… She left a note.” Allison digs in her jean pocket, pulling a crumpled, folded-up paper out and smoothing it. “Here.” She offers it, but changes her mind when she remembers her sister’s condition. “I’ve gone to the west coast. I’m okay, I’m safe. I just can’t stay in Alabama. I can’t stay in this house. I love you all. May blessings follow you wherever you go. Love, Joanna.” 

Ethel stares at her sister in shock, cheeks dripping with tears. “I’d like to be alone, please,” she croaks, quiet and wet. “Please go. Thank you for the food.”

Allison nods, placing a shaky hand on Ethel’s cheek, wiping it with her thumb. “I love you, you know that?”

She’s gone as quickly as she came.

***

June 10, 1978

Spencer’s nimble fingers trail through Ethel’s long, dark hair, his third attempt at learning how to french braid. “I know, I agree, but… I don’t know, I just think there’s more to people than that.”

“Not really. People make their own decisions, yeah, but at the end of the day, they’re either good or bad.” Ethel studies one of the paintings on Spencer’s bedroom wall; a Rembrandt. She can never remember the name of it.

“I can see where you’re coming from,” he replies, trying to tame a particularly difficult knot, “but I wanna know what makes people make the decisions they make. I want to know what makes them tick.”

Ethel tugs at one of her fingers, attempting to pop her knuckle. “Spence, that’s a dark road. Studying serial killers… it’s evil. True evil. Not like your Mom-”

“My mom isn’t evil.” Spencer’s hands still.

“No, I know, but I mean… You know, Daddy used to say-”

“Your father is dead,” he interrupts, voice tight. He ties off her hair and scoots back on the bed, folding his arms and glaring down at her, cross-legged on the hardwood floor. She turns around to look at him.

“I know,” she says, calm and slow. “My point is, serial killers aren’t just…” She chooses her words carefully, mindful of Spencer’s hard stare. “Troubled. They’re purposefully evil and do evil things. That’ll sink into you, eventually. I don’t want that for you.” She reaches up and offers her hand, but when he doesn’t take it, she sighs and puts it back in her lap.

“Everyone deserves empathy. Even the people you so flippantly label as evil. You know, there are some people that would call Joseph evil.”

Ethel swallows the lump in her throat that forms at her father’s first name. “You’re close to blasphemy,” she whispers, eyes on her hands, clasped together atop her ankles. “My father was a messenger of God.”

“Your father molested you,” Spencer replies, softening. “Your father abused you, your mother, and I think it’s safe to assume he abused Vera. He hurt me, too. And it isn’t your fault,” he adds, an afterthought. An unnecessary one. She didn’t assume it was, or at least she doesn’t think she did. “He was, as you put it, troubled.”

“Daddy was a good man, Spencer. He loved me, and he loved his family. You didn’t know him. He did what he did because God told him to.”

Ethel doesn’t address why God would tell him to do the things he did. She doesn’t address how scared she is that one day God would tell her to do that, too. She doesn’t even attempt to consider how ashamed she would be if she one day hurt someone else, whether it was directions from the Lord or not. Above all, she very importantly did not mention that she was, in a distant part of her mind she kept far away from her prayers, angry at God for telling her father to do those things.

Instead, she repeats, “He loved me.”

Spencer moves off the bed to sit next to his friend, back against the side of his bed. He pulls her into him, tucking her under his arm. “I know,” he mutters. “I know he did.”

God loves her, too, she’s sure. God loved her, but not enough to save her.

They fall asleep like that, and are awoken by a sob from downstairs. “Stay here,” Spencer demands, shifting Ethel off of him to investigate.

He’s greeted by his mother crumpled by the open entry door, hands over her mouth. There’s a stranger in uniform at the door with a sleek black box in his hands. He looks conflicted, like he isn’t sure if he should comfort her or not. She hears Spencer at the stairs and looks up, holding her arms out to her sides. She calls for him, and with bated breath, he approaches.

Diana pulls her son into her; tight, bony arms suffocating. “What happened? Who is that?” His questions are muffled by her bosom, his face held tight against her chest.

“Your uncle Reggie,” she sobbed, hot breath dampening his hair. “He- oh, my God.”

Oh. His uncle Reggie, who was fighting in the war.

Unbeknownst to the Reids and the man still standing awkwardly at the door, Ethel was watching the entire thing go down at the top of the stairs.

Spencer told her about his uncle just a couple weeks ago, and they’d discussed the moral implications of joining a war. Today’s conversation was almost a continuation of that; they’d decided, or at least Ethel had decided, that those who die at war deserved to. To make the choice of killing people at the word of a superior would be asking for God to strike them down. Thou shalt not kill, regardless of whether or not one thinks it is just. She has a hard time feeling bad for the man. He was patriotic, a firm believer that America always had the moral high ground as it was a Godly country. She wonders how God gets twisted and pulled in so many directions; God gives children wholly to their parents, so when a father beds his daughter, it is not adultery, but if a father beds someone else’s daughter, it is. If someone commits murder, they are a murderer plain and simple, unless they’re killing someone who’d done wrong. How is it that Christians are meant to know how to live their lives if there are so many rules, and so many exceptions?

Ethel elects to go back to Spencer’s room and pretend she hadn’t heard. When he comes back with red eyes and a red nose, she doesn’t comment on it, and she lets him hold her, even though she’s too hot and she has to pee and she was supposed to be home for supper twenty minutes ago according to the clock on his wall. She’ll pay for that, she knows, but for now she needs to comfort her friend.

***

August 28, 1981

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Ethel slurs, clinging onto Spencer’s sweater-clad arm. “He’ll be there,” she sings with a grin.

“If you’re referring to Will, I have far less interest in seeing him than you do, and less so if you’re going to be hanging off of him all night,” Spencer huffs, pulling his arm away from the young woman and crossing it with the other across his chest. Ethel pouts.

“I won’t be hanging off of him, I’ll be hanging on him.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, good grief,” he groans. “You’re already drunk, why don’t you just go to his house? What do you need to go to a party for?”

Ethel rolls her eyes. “Game first, then party. Also, it isn’t just a party, it’s the homecoming dance. You haven’t gone to a single one yet. You have to go.”

“Actually, it’s freshman year,” Spencer corrects. “I just finished senior year.”

“Yeah, but that’s college. You’re senior-age.”

With a huff, Spencer rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

Ethel beams, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

She drags him into a crushing hug, giggling like a kid. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She reeks of whiskey.

***

Spencer is curled up with a book under the bleachers, about 30 feet away from Ethel and Willoughby. What a stupid name, he thinks bitterly. He’s about halfway through Jane Eyre, and though he’s reading slowly, he suspects he’ll be done in 20 minutes tops, and he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to tolerate the moans and groans wafting from his left when he’s done. They’ve been making out since he started his book, which he picked up after Ethel cut their conversation short for favour of her shiny new boyfriend. They’ve been spending pretty much every waking moment together since Vera took sick last year. The only time Ethel isn’t drunk is Sunday mornings, and even they’re hit or miss. The church been through preacher after preacher for the last half-decade, each one quitting or dying off. Due to old age or suicide, Spencer isn’t sure. Regardless, the congregation liked Joseph so much that they elected for Ethel to take over sermons. Not a great idea to ask a 17-year-old girl to be a preacher in the first place, let alone a drunk, but no one ever asks Spencer’s opinion on these things. Whatever.

As expected, Spencer is done with his book in about a quarter of an hour, and slams it shut with a huff, turning his attention to the undulating heap that is Ethel atop Will. “I’m bored, E.” She ignores him. “E.” Silence. “Ethel!”

She whines and reluctantly pulls away from her partner, looking at Spencer. Will continues conducting an assault on her jaw and neck. “What?”

“I’m bored,” he repeats, shoulders slumped.

“Baby,” she coos, glancing down at Will again. “Can you get a soda for me, baby?”

Spencer cringes at the gooey nickname.

Willoughby grunts. “You know what, I think I’m just gonna go home.” He shoots a pissed-off glare to Spencer, who tries valiantly to hold back a chuckle. He succeeds, thank fuck.

“What? No, we still have to go to the dance,” Ethel whines, holding his face in her hands and kissing him sweetly. “Please don’t go. Please?”

“Whatever. I’ll see you there.” Will pushes her off his lap carefully, and dusting himself off, stalks away.

She feels like she’s been punched, like she got the air knocked out of her. Tears well up in her eyes as she watches him leave, and she just feels so fucking angry. Who does he think he is?

“See what you did?” Ethel snaps, throwing her arms up to gesture behind her, glaring daggers at Spencer. “All because you were bored. Why didn’t you just read your book like you said you were going to?”

“I did!” He waves his book in the air. “I finished it. I told you it wouldn’t last me that long. You’re being a dick.”

“You made my boyfriend leave just because you were jealous!”

Spencer closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again. “I’m not jealous. I just don’t think it’s fair that you begged me to come to this and I did, and you’re not even talking to me.”

“Yeah, okay, Spence. Just… come on.” She offers him her hand, pulling him up off the concrete. 

“Where are we going?”

“To get drunk.”

Spencer gawks. “I thought you said we were going to go to the homecoming dance, though?”

“I changed my mind. We’re going to go to an honest-to-God high school party.” Ethel shouts, moving expertly through the dispersing crowd, abandoning a finished football game.

He considers arguing but thinks better of it.

***

“You look pretty,” Ethel drawls, pressed tight against Spencer’s side.

“And you’re drunk,” he says gently, trying to remove her. Admittedly, his heart isn’t in it, and he gives up. Maybe it’s nice to feel her against him. Sue me. “Where’s Will? I thought he was going to meet us here.”

“Went home, I guess,” she shrugs, shoving her face in Spencer’s neck.

He shivers at her breath on the sensitive skin. He crosses his legs at the ankle. They’d found a bathroom to set up camp in when Ethel got nauseous. She puked for a while, hair pulled neatly into Spencer’s hands, and now they’re sitting with their backs against the bathtub, vibrations from the music bouncing through their spines.

“Why are you asking about him? Why do you care?”

“E, you’re drunk,” he repeats, not having a good answer. Because if you don’t get out of my space soon, I’m going to lose my mind. Because the urge to kiss you is getting strong enough it’s getting hard to fight, and I will not kiss you while you’re drunk. Because you being all over another man is less unbearable than you being all over me.

“I’m sober as a judge,” she giggles, then presses one hand to his jaw, turning his face toward her. “You’re tense.”

The light of the bathroom is harsh against her sharp features, but Spencer is a firm believer that she’s as beautiful as she’s always been, and gets moreso every day. He pushes a stray hair out of her face and behind her ear. His eyes linger on her cross-shaped scar on her forehead, to the point where it's raised and white. He doesn't comment on it no matter how much he'd like to. He really fucking hates Joseph Cain. 

Brave, Ethel lifts herself up and settles on his lap. His hands instinctively go to her hips, and as much as he knows he should move them, he doesn’t. This is wrong, he tells himself, but he’s frozen in place. He just hopes she doesn’t notice his burgeoning erection.

“I might know a way to relax you,” she mumbles, hands going to tangle in Spencer’s curly hair.

“Stop,” he whispers, eyes shut tight when she tugs experimentally.

“Oh, you liked that,” she grins. “You want me to do it again?”

Yes. Please, for the love of- Yes, please.

“Ethel, cut it out. This isn’t funny.”

“I know,” she replies, voice suddenly stern. He opens his eyes and sees her eyebrows furrowed, head tilted down and lips pursed. “God, you’re so serious,” she smiles, the facade breaking. “I won’t bite.” She tugs again. “Unless you ask me to.”

Spencer swallows thickly and tries to convince himself to ask her to stop again. She rolls her hips against his, and though the movement is astoundingly uncoordinated, it feels heavenly.

Ha, he thinks. Heaven is not, and has never been, in this room.

She’s drunk. She’s inebriated, and she’s taken. Stop. You need to push her off of you. Tell her you don’t like it. Go on, tell her. Tell her. Tell-

Some very considerate partygoer bangs on the bathroom door. “Are you about done in there? I need to shit!” 

Ethel scrambles off of Spencer’s lap and he huffs out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Saved by the bell.

***

November 23, 1981

“Be honest!” Ethel shouts, shoving at Spencer’s chest. 

“E, you’re being impossible! I don’t know what you want me to say!”

She’s hitting him. She has never done that before. What the hell? She’s been yelling at him for probably an hour now, spouting nonsense about why he doesn’t love her. Of course he loves her. He’s told her he loved her their whole lives. Why is she freaking out about this now?

“Stop– Stop lying to me,” she demands, crying now. “Please just be honest for once.”

“Lying about what?” asks for the thousandth time, exasperated. “I do love you. I’ve never not loved you.”

Ethel sobs. “You are the only man I have ever met who didn’t want to fuck me.”

What? Since when does she swear?

“I- Where is this coming from?”

He does not tell her how badly he has wanted to do just that since he learned what sex was. The first time he ever heard of it, he remembers very clearly thinking, the only person I would want to make love to is Ethel. He isn’t sure why Ethel never calls it sex anymore; every time the topic would come up, she’d use the more vulgar term. He has a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with her ever-increasingly active sex life since she was, like, 13.

“It doesn’t matter where it’s coming from! Just answer me! What is it, do you not think I’m pretty? Are you not into girls? What is your problem? I mean, whatever the reason is, I can take it. I don’t care what you say, but say something! Just– I’m so tired of you being so damn calm all the time. Hurt me, or yell at me, but just don’t be so-”

“Why are you asking me about this? You have a boyfr-”

“Will killed himself,” Ethel cries, and she’s a goner. She’s all gasps and wails, and damn near falls to her knees. Spencer is right in front of her in a couple strides, arms around her waist in case she gets too unsteady.

“Okay,” he says, not sure what the protocol is. He guesses that was acceptable, because she doesn’t reply except for with more of the same. Her hands ball themselves into fists, entangled with his white button-up dress shirt. They stay like that until he guides her to her bed, laying down next to her. He shushes her gently, kisses the top of her head, and cards his hand through her pin-straight hair.

There are a million thoughts in his head. How did he do it? What preceded this? Did they get in a fight she didn’t tell me about? When did she find out? Why was I her first thought? None of them are pressing enough to address, at least not right now. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to ask them, if she’ll ever be comfortable enough with the topic to truly discuss it. Soft whimpers and sniffles keep him awake for hours, long after Ethel falls asleep. He’s sweaty, and his arm is asleep, pins and needles all up and down his right side, and he is horribly thirsty, but he stays there until morning light. He wonders absently whether her mother even noticed she was gone. His mother thinks he’s gone even when he’s just in the next room.

She’s gotten worse while he’s been in college. He just got a PhD for mathematics, and in his absence, she’s falling apart. He sent someone to take care of her while he’s at school and visits as often as he can, but he’s getting emails every other day about some new ailment she has. The idea of putting her in a home is the last thing he wants to pursue, but it’s getting more and more pressing. It’s looking like his only option.

Hours pass by before he’s pulled out of his thoughts by Ethel stirring. Here we go again.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he smiles, dragging his hand away from her hair. “Did you sleep well?”

She groans, rolling onto her back and stretching her arms out above her head. “What time is it?”

“7:06,” he replies, the smile stubborn on his lips. He does not look at the skin that her stretch reveals at her lower stomach, thank you very much.

“I feel better,” she tells him, bunching her arms up under her head, turning on her side to look at him. “I’m not sure what all I said last night, but… whatever it was, I know it wasn’t good, and I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” How much did she remember?

“I think I’m gonna go home. Mom is probably pissed,” Ethel chuckles, grin radiant.

It’s good to see her happy, it doesn’t happen often anymore.

“I’ll check on you later,” Spencer says, not being able to convince himself to move. Ethel doesn’t, either. They just look at each other for a little while, memorizing. Eventually, she sits up with a vigor.

“Okay, I really have to leave. I’ll see you later, Spence.” With a squeeze of the knee, Ethel is off the bed and leaving.

***

Spencer promised to check on her, and he did. Just a few hours later, he drags a coat over his shoulders and traipses down the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Diana calls from the couch in the living room.

He stops, turns around, and approaches her. “Just going to see Ethel, Mom.” He presses a kiss to her cheek, leaning over the back of the sofa.

“Didn’t you just get back?” she frowns, placing a hand over his affectionately.

“No, Mom. She left a while ago.”

Diana looks sad, but she nods. “Okay. Be safe, come back soon, okay? I want you back before dark.” She presses pursed lips to his hand, and with a pathetic smile, waves him off.

Despite the early hour, most of the windows at the Cain house are dark. On the second floor, two are on that he can see; he recognizes them to be Allison and Hope’s rooms. Ethel got to have the attic bedroom when her father died, luckily for her. That light isn’t on.

Spencer opens the front door as quietly as he can and comes across Allison in the dining room, sitting at the table and scribbling in a notebook. “Hey, Allison,” he smiles.

Allison looks up from her paper with a grin and closes it at the sight of him. “Oh, hi! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Spencer rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, she’s been coming over more lately. I’ve needed some extra help with Mom,” he lies. The truth is, Ethel just didn’t want to be at home with her mother, even if she’s been pretty much bedridden. I can feel her, she’d told him. It’s like a ghost, a chill on my spine.

“Yeah, I get that. Sorry she’s not feeling well.”

Spencer nods a thanks, eager to be done with the awkward conversation, and trudges up the creaky old stairs. More than anywhere else in the house, the hallways always smell like mildew and dust. It made him sneeze when he was younger, but he’s pretty-well used to it now. He knocks on the door to the attic and gets no response. Perhaps she’s in the bathroom? He knocks on that door, too, but to no avail. Turning back around, he returns to the attic and opens the door this time. Turning to his right, he finds Ethel asleep in bed.

“Hey, are you-” He touches her shoulder and pulls his hand away as if burned. He hadn’t noticed the blood at first. Upon closer investigation, he realizes she’s trembling, and a glance at her face reveals foam at her mouth. He looks around frantically and finds exactly what he expected to find; an empty pill bottle. He turns her onto her back, then on her side facing him. 

“Ethel!” He hardly ever calls her by her full name, but he figures this circumstance warrants it. “Fuck! Wake up!”

Gritting his teeth, he rears back and hits her across the face. That one worked. She stirs minimally, groaning, but not replying. “Fuck, what did you take?” He pulls her hands out from where they were curled under her chin and finds gashes down both forearms, two each, crossed in the visage of a crucifix. “Shit, shit, shit. E, you need to- you need to get up. Come on, wake up, please?”

He takes off his coat and tears off each sleeve, surprised at his own strength, then ties them firmly around her wounds. Just as he does that, his hands are covered in vomit. He cringes, but he’s relieved at her movement. He fights to urge to run to the sink and scrub himself clean.

“Are you with me? You need to get up. Come on, let’s go.”

“Leave me alone,” she whimpers, trembling like a leaf. “I don’t need you, I don’t need anybody’s help. Just go.”

“No. Nope. We’re not doing that. Come on.�� Spencer wipes his hands off on the mattress and puts an arm under her shoulders, dragging her upward. “What did you take, E? Talk to me. Tell me what you took. You need to walk, okay? Work with me.”

Her head lolls back against her shoulders when she’s pulled off the bed. “It was…” Her speech is slurred and her eyes fall shut. Spencer manages to get her all the way to the bathroom and set her down on the tile. This is gonna fucking suck. 

He gets her mouth open and, ignoring the lurch of his own stomach, his fingers creep into her mouth. She gags once, twice, and vomits in the direction of the toilet bowl. Most of it managed to land in the commode. He does that a few more times until all that’s coming up is acid.

“Okay,” he mumbles. “Okay.” He leans her against the bathtub and finally goes to the sink, scrubbing his hands clean. He tries to move quickly while still being as thorough as possible. Deciding he’s as clean as he’s going to get, he dries them off on a hand towel and returns to Ethel. “You’re gonna be alright, E. I need to dress your arms, is that okay?”

Barely cognizant, she shakes her head. “No,” she murmurs, tears still falling from her eyes due to the gagging. “Please, Spence. Just leave me alone.”

He bites his lip. “We’re gonna do this. You don’t get to kill yourself, E. Not now. You got me?”

Ethel doesn’t reply, just sniffles and hiccups against the white porcelain. Examining her wrists, he finally realizes just how fucking scary this is. There’s blood everywhere; on her clothes, his clothes, all over his hands and the floor. He never realized just how much the arms bleed before. He didn’t think he’d have to know that, at least not yet.

With a bone-deep sigh, he lets go of her to dig through the cabinet under the sink. He locates a first-aid kit and dumps hydrogen peroxide over her arms. She’s so far gone she doesn’t even react.

“This is really not my year, you know?” she slurs, a bitter smirk on her face. “I mean, shit. Dad died. Will died. Joanna’s probably dead by now. Mom’s as good as dead, and so are my sisters, as much as they talk to me. Fuck, why not me?”

Spencer feels himself get choked up, but he encourages her anyway. At least she’s talking.

“I mean, Daddy was years ago, but… I needed him, you know? He made me feel like I fucking meant something to somebody, for once in my pathetic life,” she scoffs. Spencer doesn’t mention how much he cares about her, or how much it hurt to hear her imply she didn’t mean anything to him. He just applies ointment and wraps arm number one.

“Dude,” she continues, “I’ve been drunk since freshman year, and no one notices. Either that or they just don’t give a damn. And God,” she snorts, “Definitely doesn’t give a damn. He hasn’t even been in this fucking town since I was little. If he’s here…” Ethel lets out a dry sob, and Spencer assumes she’s too dehydrated to cry. “If he’s here, I can’t feel him anymore. I used to. Sometimes. Like… Like that morning on the roof, you remember?”

“I remember, E. Tell me about it. Tell me about that night,” he says, picking up her other arm to apply more ointment. She lets him.

“When Will and I fucked, when I lost my virginity,” she says, opening her eyes to watch Spencer for the first time since he sat her down. “I felt God, then. I heard him in my head, screaming at me. He told me I was a whore. That wasn’t very Godly, was it?”

He can’t fight it anymore and a lone tear falls out of his eye, but he very pointedly is not crying. Go him.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“He’s supposed to be there all the time, but I just feel so damn alone. I always have, even when I knew he was there, like at church.” She shifts her weight, flinching when Spencer presses too hard with the gauze.

“Sorry. Go on?”

“I felt him, though, and it was good. Kinda fun. It was like…” She hold up the middle finger on the hand Spencer already finished with. “Like, screw you, dude! I can fuck whoever I want to. Not just my daddy,” she chuckles. Spencer’s stomach lurches and he feels like he’s gonna throw up, too. “But I’m good, though,” she declares, nodding her head sloppily, eyes shut tight and lips pursed. “I’m all good out here.”

“I know you are,” he says, but he doesn’t. He has never been less sure she was ‘good’, and given the current circumstance, he thinks he gets the right to be worried. He only left her alone for a couple of hours and she tried to kill herself. She almost succeeded. All this over a boy she’s known for about a year. Good Lord, if you’re listening, please keep a better eye on her.

Tag List: @darkmatilda @lizzys-sunflower.

If you'd like to be added, let me know!

[fyreflakes]

Hi you!

(Since tumblr may or may not be shutting down( Hopefully NOT!!!) Here's some otehr places you can fidn me-)

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wattpad ->www.wattpad.com/user/Fyreflakes Deviantart -> www.deviantart.com/quotevianflaky Pinterest: -> pin.it/4M1U58ANx Artfight: -> artfight.net/~Fyreflakes Youtube: -> https://www.youtube.com/@FlakyflakesS/ Instagram: -> www.instagram.com/quotevianflaky/ Quotev -> https://www.quotev.com/Fyreflakes and Discord shoudl be labeled under a Flakyflakes or something similier but if I don't know you I probably won't friend you XP) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello there! I'm a big undertale and all it's au's fangirl so expect to see a TON of that!

I occasionally do fanfic writing as well lol, so if you wanna make a request or something then go ahead, can't promise it'll be any good tho!

Alsoalso I do Ameture Voiceacting plus animation.

My works so far:

And as for animation-

(Ik it's just a sketch but I don't have good fully linearted animatiosn yet :, D)

I write/draw:

Sonic undertale Undertale aus Tmnt tadc Ramshackle Vocaloid Ace attorney What remains of Edith finch Oneshot Madoka magica Omori Slay the princess Buckshot roulette (maybe) SPRUNKI Anndddd I think thats all for now XD

Catch ya'll on the flipside!

(Ps: Go follow my sibling >:D @fyrerainy and my friends: @destinationsorrows and @thegreatjadeyeet plss their all awesome :3)

ALSO ALSO:

I am currently creating an undertale au called Musiciantale, you can support it on Deviantart under Quotevianflaky ORRR on the official discord server! :D we're a bit of a lively group on there lol and you MIIGHTT even get to watch me livestream drawing comic pages :3

So whatcha waiting for? GIT ON OVER :DDDD

We hope you enjoy your stay, on here and anywhere else you may find us ^w^

A little bit about musiciantale:

Musiciantale is an au where it plays out like Undertale, but Instruments are key to certain things, such as showing emotions without words and opening doors that wouldn't budge otherwise. There's also other changes besides the musical aspect of it, mainly involving people's backstories and the Human souls, but You'll need to wait until I release the comic pages on here before you can see :3

THE TWO MAIN CHARACTERS!

(The art is slightly outdated, I'll make better more updatd references as soon as I'm not lazy 💖)

Chara s a british bitch boy with parental issues and a K N O I F E for reasons, He plays the piano and has a lovely singing voice but is often very shy about singing in front of others.

FRISK She's adorable, my friend calls her the little girlboss which is an adorable little nickname, I love Frisk. Frisk is a rich kid who fell down into the underground on her 13th birthday. She's like Chris from Sonic x, but hopefully people will find her less annoying

(Hot take but I actually found chris to be not that bad XP Yes he's useless at times but he was okay. Not perfect, not horrible, just Okay.)

[those70scomics]

Fictober Day 6: "I'm not giving up"

That '70s Show Fanfiction

Patty Ryals's house could've filled the pages of Good Housekeeping Magazine -- thirty years ago. Mid-Century Modern furniture, a pristine kitchen with outdated appliances, yet she remained the head of the Ladies of Point Place. Kitty despised her. Ever since Gladys moved out of town in '83, Patty had become even more tyrannical.

Today's meeting of the LoPPs was supposed to be about planning their Thanksgiving charity event. They skipped Halloween because Patty believed that holiday was too childish. Kitty took no issue with that decision. She had her own Halloween event to prepare for, but Patty wasn't focused on on the task at hand. She and several of their fellow LoPPs were bragging -- sharing their joy -- about their grandchildren.

Pictures went from person to person in the living room. Stories of baby's first smile, first word, first belch spread through the air. Kitty knitted meticulously during this torturous exercise. She was transforming the yarn into baby's first blanket, but she kept that fact to herself.

"And what about you, Kitty?" Patty said. "How long will your nest remain empty? Three children, and none of them want to give you a grandchild. I wonder why that it is."

Kitty imagined stabbing Patty in the eye with her knitting needle. The nerve of that woman, insinuating that Kitty was a bad parent. So bad that her children wouldn't have children of their own.

She could shut Patty up easily and without violence. Laurie and her husband, Tim, were trying now to have a child. Steven and Jackie were undecided, but the moment they held their little niece or nephew in their arms, their indecision would vanish. Eric and Donna's child would bring so much light and love to her family, to the world, but that news wasn't here to tell. Not yet.

"I'm not giving up," Kitty said and finished a row of her grandbaby's blanket. "It'll happen when the time is right."

"Okay." Patty's tone was full of sarcasm, and she turned her attention from Kitty again. Her left carotid artery was exposed, but she might survive only one being stabbed. Good that Kitty had two knitting needles ... but Patty's murder wasn't worth the consequences.

Neither was her condescension. Kitty didn't need the LoPPs. She had friends, family, and the initiative to create her own charitable society if she so chose. After six days of planning, her Halloween party preparations were off to a great start. October sixth had been a good day. This evening in Patty Ryals's house, however -- despite being thoroughly unpleasant -- was also productive.

Kitty would be responsible for catering the LoPPs Thanksgiving event, as she was every year. Since that detail hadn't been discussed tonight, and the meeting was a minute from ending, she packed her knitting supplies and blanket. She stood from the padded chair, and solidified her decision.

"I wish you all the best with Thanksgiving and all your future endeavors." She took her coat off the rack by the front door. "Look up the Turkey Talk-Line for your cooking needs. I'm resigning from the Ladies of Point Place, effective immediately."

Patty laughed incredulously. "Kitty, having grandchildren isn't a requirement for membership. Don't be so sensitive."

"Oh, I'm not so sensitive. I'm the exact amount of sensitive, and you could do with gaining some sensitivity yourself if you want a healthy relationship with your granddaughter. She is absolutely going to hate her Nana when she starts understanding you."

Kitty's raucous laughter echoed across the living room. The aghast expressions of her former LoPPs was a satisfying sight, and she left the house for good.

[blackbloodteeth]

13th Sentence Game

@bcbdrums linked me this post (about sharing the 13th sentence from any WIP), and then ended up spurring me into sharing them from all my WIPs. I hope this chaos is what you wanted.

While this is mostly everything, I've skipped some WIPs for reasons such as maybe ending up as potential Resbangs™, but otherwise enjoy this absurdly long list I've put together over the course of like three hours.

You can play along and try to guess what each one's about, if you want hahaha

1, "2021 July 15"* You're sitting up, sweating like crazy, all you can focus on is taking in air.

*Technically my first fic, but it was scrapped. Never really posted it because it's too confusing and now outdated.

2. "2021 Sep 24"* As the previously stated unpredictable behaviour has led to only a small number of assessments on combat, the full extent of his abilities remain undocumented.

*Was originally for an event, but I've considering expanding upon it.

3. "(WIP) TBN" It was like the world here at DWMA was some kind of grand show, and he was just some background character.

4. Inner Strings They all called him the Soul Eater.

5. "be crime do gay" Just. Not like that.

6. Scythes don't make for practical weapons He had no idea if he was going to be able to make friends at all, let alone find a meister, someone willing to accept him for himself and actually be able to use him effectively.

7. "(simple au)" He had an odd combo of red eyes with white hair and tan skin, sharp teeth pulled into a defiant scowl, and a black jacket hunched over a frame that didn't look to understand posture for shit.

8. When Death City snows over "Come on, I doubt it'll actually snow; that shit never happens here."

9. I ain't Feline fine She gets him to stand in the center of the spell zone while instructing Maka to keep behind her, eagerly fixing her hat with her paws before starting.

10. Teeth So he'd take to his now familiar hideaway, a piano tucked away in a sparsely used room.

11. Happy Birthday, Soul Not even Maka.

12. "cursed hall" Given they've gotten to know each other to some degree before now, he was already pretty adjusted to seeing the two other members of this makeshift team: Soul and, well, Soul.

13. It's been a long night for my entire life There was always work to be done and he couldn't wait to get started.

14. One Word* Seeing all those intertwined neighbors, how easily they all sent signals together, that part of him craving to connect and belong made him feel hollow, made him wish he could have that just like everybody else.

*Let it be known that this is the notorious development hell WIP.

15. It was a dark and stormy night Of course with her literary weapon and the sudden jolt of her appearance, the figure seems to have been startled enough to give an auditory following to their jumping back, dull gleaming red blinking wildly back at her tense confusion while- Wait, Soul??

16. Ride by night only [6:19 PM] Kinda with him actually, why are you in a hurry then lol

17. The Very Hungry Soul “Well if the very hungry caterpillar would like to make sure we’re not late, he should hurry up and get dressed before I eat his breakfast for him before it gets cold.”

18. See you on the other side "Soul?"

19. The Dragon and The Moth He’s stopped entirely in his tracks when she abruptly goes in for a hug, snout nuzzling against his chest with a much softened sweetness.

20. Draconic Upon further noting its smooth surface he soon realized it wasn’t a star but in fact some sort of rock, blandly opaque like that of salt despite its odd moonlit shimmers, which even stranger still became steadily see-through in the absorbed heat of his fingertips.

21. "(wings made of arms)" Could it... really be......?

22. The Unknown Caller Caller unknown. But for him that was a lie.

23. The Exchange [8th] "Drink?"

24. Don't Escape Making his way around the back, his eyes glide along the sides until he reaches the pile of small logs, the ax resting up against them exactly as he’d left it.

25. The 42nd Story (Ch. 2)* The muffled talking of a woman, determined to be coming from a nearby room.

*As stated in The Ramble Room, this entire story was scrapped. While I didn't share the second and only other chapter despite it being finished, the first chapter was still shared.

26. "2023july11" He proceeds with actually cleaning himself up, a faint smile keeping him still awake and upright.

27. "(Aug31)" Her smile fades a little as she looks him over, a different sense of intrigue making her face bunch up funnily.

28. "hand pun" Her horrid fascination grew to the point of needing a new name for it (morbid curiosity, that's a classic) as the guy turns the hand around while it signs to him, eyes impossibly wide when she notices the similar skin tone under his hood and the missing space in his left jacket sleeve and the red of his eyes when he suddenly looks directly at her.

29. "WereWeek prompt 3" There's this girl – new student who moved in this year – who is so bossy.

30. "trees"* So much on his mind that he can't hold at bay and he can't even walk about it.

*Technically a small one-shot collection, but it's all going to be in the same fic.

31. "here and now"* His fingers stretch out from his palms in front of the glass, hurriedly ruffling through his hair, his tongue sticking out and then grinning ear-to-ear at her again with all the sunlight in the world.

*My current WIP! It's been slow-going, but I can't wait to see it through to the end haha

The rest are unsorted WIPs in my "drabble zone (2024)" doc:

32. 'Cause you are more than just a dream There's an odd look he pauses on her with after hopping off that she can really only describe as him expecting her to feel like he just sealed her in with a wild animal.

33. "blacksmith au" While his body shown well the signs of having dedicated much of his life to his craft, there was a strange affliction splitting much of it in twain, diagonally from hip to shoulder as if sliced by the very heavens itself in warning.

34. Devils don't go to Heaven (working title) “...Where is this?”

Anything else is so disorganized or only a small handful of sentences that I'm just gonna go ahead and stop it here haha

Thanks for tuning in, hope this was at least entertaining, or possibly even enlightening to the sheer amount of WIPs I've manged to collect over the past few years. I do want to go back to them eventually, but one step at a time, eh?

[swords-of-a-soilder]

The Healing Process

Chapter 1

Confession and Bonfires

This is my first qsmp fic be nice to me; also this is some what outdated but everyone insisted I finish it anyways so here it is!

Cellbit eyes fell half lid as he phased into place, overlooking phill and Misa's home. He hadn't the proper chance to caught up since the events of purgatory, the exhaustion for the damage his body took put him out for weeks at least and the horrid vision of mind are ones he'd rather forget.

He slowly walked over to the front door of the home where he knocked for a whole 3 second, before then looking through the window.

The double bed remained empty amongst the wall of pictures, his eyes gazed back and forth as he search for any life, then sighed when he found none.

Cellbit was about to leave when he heard an iron door push open, he walked over to where he heard the sound watching Phill crawl from an underground base.

"Oi, Philza." Cellbit started

"Sup mate!" Phill greeted, he crawl his way out the hole completely, shutting the door behind him.

"I hope I'm not interrupting you, seem you were bu-" before Cellbit finished his sentence he experience a strong embrace from Phill, sending the younger gentleman into shock.

Finally Phill pulled away meeting Cellbit gaze, "I'm glad you're alright, I was worried you wouldn't make it back." He confessed

Cellbit blink momentarily before his brain flowed again, "I'm glad to see you too."

"oh, are you good on cookies by the way?" Phill starting, "I don't know if you heard but the eggs need to take 8 cookies a week. I started collecting as many as I could so you're good for the week."

"Jesus, it's purgatory all over again." Cellbit joked

"Ah, sorry." Phill respond

Cellbit immediately noticed the tint of regret in Phil's eyes, he seemed to be defaulting to the purgatory mind set, Cell might of said it was concerning if he had found himself doing the same.

It wasn't suprising he was still in survival mode, especially when they didn't get the opportunity to have a proper set off, there was a huge difference between running to the boat to save your life and a proper bon fire goodbye.

"Um, speaking of purgatory, I just wanted to stop by and say maybe, if you're not busy we have a proper send off." Cellbit began.

"An send off?"

"A finally good bye to purgatory, I mean obviously we aren't gonna forgot it entirely but this will help us to move on."

Phill stared at him in disbelief before speaking again, "this was Roier's idea, wasn't it?"

Cellbit release a defeated sigh as he lost his confidence, "yes, it's not the best idea but it's a idea."

"I mean I like the idea, It just didn't seem like you."

Cellbit chuckled at Phill's respond, "no I'd like to ignore it all together, but Roier's seems convince, so I have to at least try."

"sure thing mate, when is it gonna be?"

"Midnight, why then?" Jaiden asked as she pet one of her many parrot birds.

"Purgatory had long nights, it'll fit the vibe." Cellbit explain

"Hmm, I don't see why not, where's not drinking tea right?" Jaiden inquired

"why you don't like tea anymore?" Cellbit asked

"God no, I hate tea now!" Foolish insisted.

charlie noted his head in agreement, "yeah no more tea, I will puke my guts out."

"great, it would help if you brought some food, but no pressure." Cellbit suggested

"ah, I'm not the best cook you know?" Etoiles warned

"I can make a mean milkshake!" Mouse added

"milkshake isn't a good night drink is it?" Etoiles asked

"doesn't matter, it's good."mouse double down

Cellbit chuckled at their ridiculous behavior, "well anyways, I'll see you guys tonight then."

It would be untrue to say Cellbit wasn't anxious about the upcoming event,but he was insistence on keeping a bold face for Roier whom saw through it rather easily."

"Pendjo, eres tan fácil de leer; you can just admit to be nervous?" Roier began

"What do I have to be nervous about?" Cellbit detour suddenly paying his attention to the food Roier brought with them.

"Hey come on now, this is supposed to be a night of openness!" Roier rebutted, "ya deberías saberlo mejor, ¡no te voy a juzgar!"

"Cellbit!" A voice called from his left, Cellbit would soon observe Etoiles approaching with Mouse by his side, Both holding milk products respectfully.

"I tired to stop her, but she instead on it." Etoiles inform as he passed off a large jug filled to the brim with a cold milkshake.

Cellbit released a nervous chuckle as he place the jug down, "well, the others aren't here but, feel free to chill by the fire."

"Hey, you got any music?" Mouse inquired

"I didn't prepare for..I think I might have a record in my backpack.." Cellbit pulled his backpack from under the table fumbling through it.

He eventually pulled a dic out that he handed off to mouse, whom immediately set it to play on her own backpack. The familiar tunes of pig step filled the air, as mouse dance her way over to fire.

It didn't take long for the others to show up, Charlie, jadien and foolish all in that order. Phil of course was the last one to show up, carry a dispenser jug of Ice Tea.

And with that his promise was broken, "Ah Phil, did you really have to bring tea?" Cellbit started

"Why not, its good!"

"Yes, but Foolish and Charlie, really didn't want to drink any-"

"Oh really?" Phil interrupted, "its a god damn send off they can drink the Tea, Foolish come drink this!" Phil demand as he poured foolish a cup.

"No, get that shit away from me!" Foolish begged

Cellbit chuckled at Phil's ridiculous behavior, then blended into the group forcing himself to socially per Roier's orders.

For the majority of the night it was mostly chill, in a not so suprising turn of events Cellbit found his desire to communicate to run dry in the first hour.

You could only do so much small talk before it becomes a drag, so he stayed by his partner, not necessarily saying anything but kept seated next to Him with his head rested on his shoulders, just Observering the other.

Therefore he couldn't help but notice that Phil of all people was acting rather strange and thus tuned into him and his conversations a lot more; which actually weren't that many since Phil spent most his time chugging tea at the dispenser.

The troubling part was, the driver was absolutely alcoholic, Cellbit certainly smelt the Vodka from here; granted he was fully aware Phil wasn't the one who spiked it but he surely figured out by now what was in it.

"Phil, come on stick fight?" Etoiles pleaded

Phil could feel his head spinning at the thought, but having turn him down the past few days he felt obligated to play along. He place the cup on the table, "yeah.. Ok." He agreed fetching a stick from his inventory

Etoiles was basically bouncing of the non existence walls in excitement, soon taking his stance in preparation as Phil did the same.

Cellbit would say he felt bad for watching, he knew without a shadow of a doubt Phil was about to eat shit, but lot like a car crash he just couldn't look away.

And eat shit Phil did, getting knocked down in less than ten seconds by the dullest part of Eotiles stick, but credit where credit was due, Phil clearly wasn't focus.

In fact Cell quickly track his vision to the others dancing, specifically Mouse, whom held a Goat's skull on her head. Phil would soon thank Etoiles for the fight then quickly made his way to mouse, stealing the skull then engaging in small talk.

"Where did you find this, I never see skulls this small just about." Phil was Cleary lying through his teeth, it seemed more like he just wanted an excuse not to give the item back.

Why not just ask to keep it?

"Phil, come on man, dance it's a party!" Charlie was obviously already drunk and while Phil was tispy enough to eat shit in under 10 seconds, Charlie was 'not gonna be able to piss straight' drunk.

So it made sense that he would just casually take the skull and start dancing about, however watching the way Phil's fingers curled in and his lips quiver, it pulled Cellbit to intervene.

He stole the skull from Charlie quickly hiding it in his inventory, satisfied to see a sense of peace wash over Phil. "You're going to poke someone's eye out." Cellbit warned.

"Ah man you're no fun." Charlie complained as he rejoin the group.

After everyone tired themselves out, Roier being the only one who brought actual food, started handing them out; as everyone was forced to sit and discuss by the fire it made the task a little easier.

"Phil, I noticed you don't tend to eat at these events." Cellbit inquiried

"Ah, I normally full up on toast before hand and so I usually just bring some back for Chayanne." Phil informed

"Please at least eat this time." Cellbit request as he past off the dish, "Roier might take it as an insult over wise."

"Yeah, sure mate."

After handing out everything Cell seated himself by the camp fire awaiting Roier's presence, though he find himself slightly annoyed by his husband's statements when he finally sat down.

"So guys, I was thinking right now would be a good opportunity to talk about how we've been feeling."

"Oh boy, here we go." Charlie started, "I don't have a problem ok?!"

"That's not at all what I was talking about." Roier corrected, "look I'm sure purgatory messed with our understanding of trust in our friendship! You don't have to say it, but its a known fact. "

"So?" Foolish asked, rather annoyed by the topic.

"So trust excuses come on, no seas una perra; you talk about your feelings I talk about mine, look I'll even go first!" Roier began, "When Cellbit stayed behind, I felt hurt that my feelings weren't concerned."

"Stop don't." Cellbit pleaded, his face already buried in his hands, "No es que no haya considerado tus sentimientos, solo hice lo que pensé que era mejor para ti."

"Exacto, lo hiciste sabiendo que me haría daño, simplemente porque querías hacer lo mejor para mí, lo entiendo."

"Stop this."

"Pero prefiero ser feliz a lo que es mejor para mí cualquier día, no seas idiota egoísta, te amo."

There was a long silence between the two, and though Cellbit looked ashamed, he also seemed partly content; Therefore it motivated others.

"Um, I'm actually really afraid all the time." Etoiles started

"Wait what?" Phil interrupted, "but you're Etoiles, you're always looking for a fight, being a hero."

"Well its more that I'm afraid of messing up, of not being enough; so of course I do a as many fights to prove to myself I'm strong but.. After it ends I feel pretty empty again."

once more a silence fell among the bon fire, it was clear tonight was expected to be an emotional one.

"sometimes I lose track of my motives." Jaiden began "of why I do the things I do and I've found myself asking, is motive a justification for the wrong I've done?"

Cellbit weight her words in his head, hateful of how strongly he agree with them, "I myself have done, regrettable things.. I knew my motive behind them but, I do wonder if the motive really is a justification.. I.. I don't know anymore."

Then the silence rare her uglyy face once more, the only sound the crackles of the fire. confession spoken would obviously be casted into the fire to burn but to leave their host and avoid becoming poison.

"I've been seeing things," Phil finally admit, "things I'm not sure are real anymore, and others can never seem to see it but.. I feel like I'm going crazy. I saw it, I lived thought it, it all feels real but.."

After the few who felt fit spoke their confession, there was an honor thirty minutes of silence to allow those confession to burn.

Freed from their host, freed from their minds. Once the event came to an end most participates rush their way home, and Phil was not above them

It was Cellbit, whom actually grabbed onto to Phil's shelve holding him back. "Um Phil, about those visions you've been seeing?"

"oh, no I mean, I was worried because I thought it was just because the kids were gone, but then it kept happening so..but it's fine it's probably all in my head." Phil dismissed

"in my experience, it never is." Cell warned, "at least reach out if it happens again."

".... Cellbit have you spelt?"

"wow.." Cellbit let his hands fall off Phil's shelve, "you're gonna turn on me like that!?"

"sleep deprivation is a terrible thing," Phil warned, "get some rest, for your own sake." Phil warned before turning away.

Momentarily Cellbit watch the older man walk away, keeping notice to check on Phil later.

[fountainpenguin]

Recent Frayed Knots progress for those interested (+ Origin):

Rereading - Spent May rereading a lot of Knots content, ensuring I knew where we were and wasn't going to forget certain plot points. I recap highlights in next chapter's author's note, such as a recent conversation between A.C. and his mom as they plot to kill High Countess Anti-Elina, which is, y'know... not a plot point we want to set up and forget to follow, haha.

TOC Update - Cleaned my table of contents, ensuring I had all my ducks in a row (as I moved a lot of things pre-hiatus in 2023). Made a new mini TOC that's easier for me to navigate and updated my new documents with proper before and after links.

Found some scenes I'd misplaced and cut some that had already made it into another chapter.

Outlining Update - Made some outline fixes to account for where we are now in terms of school, migration season, and the return to school. Also, cut some stuff related to Prince Eastkal. Made new, cleaner plans for moving A.C. from school to our next location.

Chapters - Dropped Knots' expected chapter count from 77 to 65. It'll probably go up again later; I've just been feeling unsure about its ending, so I brought the number down to what I know is staying.

Also, added headers and footers to Knots and Origin chapters & added these works to the Rainbow Train (in line with this post)

Rating Fix - Gave Origin and Knots lots of critical rethinking. Made the decision to change their AO3 rating from T to Not Rated and Author Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings and we'll talk about that in the author's note next Knots chapter.

Their expected content remains the same (i.e. The upcoming content was always in my plans), but I felt this was the more appropriate rating for a lot of the plot lines (Like, y'know... the sexual abuse that Anti-Cosmo went through with Anti-Kanin that he's still in denial even happened, plus the abuse multiple characters faced from Cupid's family, plus multiple attempts at child murder, not to mention some upcoming abuse that makes me say "Hmm.")

Any content I deem truly M or E will always be kept separate from these stories, as I do still consider these 'fics closer to upper teens in rating (or lightly mature), and they're more about themes than on-screen content... but now that I'm more familiar with AO3's rating system than I was when I posted these pieces, I think Not Rated & Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings are the best labels.

I want people to have proper expectations that oh boy, these are very messy 'fics. Read with care.

I'll leave the 'fics T on FFN for now unless I have a good reason to change them to M. I can see AO3 readers being surprised if they encounter the drawn-out abuse themes in a T rating, but imo FFN's definition for T rating is still more applicable to these 'fics than M.

Tag Update - Cleaned all the tags for Origin and Knots (They're mostly much the same, but I cut a few and added a few for clarity and improved the order of the tags).

Ex: Added a tag to Knots that says "A.C. is betrothed and married to another woman before Anti-Wanda." This was already implied by the first relationship tag (A.C./Original Character) and I did have a Slow Burn tag, but this should clarify

Also added specific tags for Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, and Sexual Abuse (instead of just Abuse & Dubious Consent).

I had a tag that said Angst and Romance, but I've changed that to Drama and Romance because I think that's more fitting

Removed Interspecies Relationships and changed to Interspecies Awkwardness + similar tweaks to other tags.

Intermission practice - Did some mini-projects to practice the mental switch of going from 3rd-person present tense (recent projects) back to Frayed Knots' style: 1st-person, past tense, and A.C.'s special brand of rambling and vocabulary.

New covers - Did lots of sketches for new cover images for Origin and Knots, as their old covers are outdated and I'd like to redraw them in my current art style.

Prep for next chapter - Wrote detailed story recaps for the author's notes (An Act 3 recap + a recap of all Anti-Lance's appearances thus far, as I wanted to highlight his past interactions with A.C.)

The next chapter focuses on Anti-Cosmo's relationship with Anti-Lance (who recently became creche father of the colony) and I really want readers to remember that Anti-Lance has played a significant role in Anti-Cosmo's life ever since they were tweens and he's not just "some guy" to A.C.

I spent time reviewing all of Anti-Lance's appearances and ensuring his personality and decisions next chapter are in line with how he's been established thus far.

Work on the next chapters - Lots of good progress has been made. I'm feeling good about the balance of A.C.'s inner monologues with the action (Heavier emphasis on the former than in most of my other works, in line with Frayed Knots' writing style).

Lots of outside research for the next chapters, plus reviewing how I've set up Anti-Fairy culture to ensure everything's in line with it.

Spending time to look at the upcoming chapters as a storyline to ensure I have my scenes in the chapters that make sense for them (and that I'm not just focusing on one chapter at a time). I don't want to rush to get a chapter out and regret not including a scene.

Working on my pacing. Many big things happen in this part of the timeline and I'm taking time to find a story flow I like.

Hoping to post Knots chapters starting in July. My posting schedule will depend on chapter length and the buffer size. See you then! :)

[dribbleondo]

I'm Leaving Payday. For Good.

For real.

Hi there. For those who may have seen me around the place, I've been pretty vocal and angry about PAYDAY 2 since update 237. An update that overhauled the matchmaking system to use the worst EOS implementation I have ever seen that requires godforsaken, outdated, and deprecated friend codes to party up with people for the sakes of cross-play. In 2023. Yep, we're on the Wii apparently!

The update broke Linux support, a port the developers were more than happy to update and maintain...until March 2023, where something clearly changed internally, and tried to make a pre-emptive cover story of the Crude Awakening breaking the port. Until it was made pretty clear that, upon release of U237, that it was because of their EOS implementation. I'm not saying coincidences aren't possible, but Starbreeze have lied so much in the past that I do not give them that benefit of doubt anymore.

This is the company that decided to not give Linux users the common bloody courtesy of keeping the port updated until the end. Two updates away from the end of life. Think about that, really hard.

This alone broke all trust I had for Starbreeze. But their next moves really infuriated me:

PAYDAY 3 is trying to implement almost every AAA cliché in the book; Post-launch microtransactions to avoid legal ratings, five separate editions for the game on launch, separately purchasable DLC, a season pass (of varying sizes tied to the editions), and an fucking always online connection. With no offline mode.

And do you know what the sad part is? About all this? I'm genuinely excited for the stealth improvements PAYDAY 3 has to offer. I got to play on the Beta briefly and I was impressed by how nuanced it all was. It felt good to play.

But I am not touching a game with so much monetisation, that treats their audience like money mules that will buy anything, and especially for their prior history in this sector. Crimefest 2015 comes to mind.

For me, I'm going to still be around in other non-PAYDAY-focused servers, but my time on the Modworkshop, PAYDAY 2, and other similar discords has to come to a close. My heart has been shattered by recent events, and all I'm left with now is a pit in my stomach anytime I think about the game series, and an unwillingness to play or mod the game I once loved so dearly. A game I once praised as a great example of how to support a game on Linux, for righting it's wrongs, and for keeping up interest with community events. Now, I'm no longer interested in even Modding PAYDAY 3 now.

It's a damn shame too, because Unreal 4 is kinda my wheelhouse.

Now, I'm under no illusion that i'm in any way an influential figure in the community. I'm reasonably sure the moment I post this on MWS and other places it'll be forgotten about within the week. The shelf-life of the Internet is small, after all. But as small as I am, I should still matter to Starbreeze. And if I don't matter, well, that's not a relationship I want to have with any company.

It hurts me to divorce myself from a game I want to play, but it'll kill me if I continue playing it or its upcoming sequel.

I still have one more mod for Payday 2 to be posted, and that'll be out soon. But after that releases. I'm done. Gone. Finito.

I have tried to remain positive over these few months, but all roads seem to lead to Starbreeze ignoring my various pleas, and are all paved with their bad intentions. So all I can say to you all is this: Do not fall for their traps and mind games. They are not to be trusted: Ever. That sounds cynical, and it sounds conspiratorial, but Starbreeze's behaviour, despite all the managerial shake-ups (or perhaps because of it) has remained the same para-socially abusive company as they were in 2015.

I hope to see you all in a game that isn't going to shatter my trust so badly. Goodbye, and farewell.

[maxisodenoth]

Oops, forgot to block.

But anyways, it seems like you don't understand.

Let me put it like this for you.

You have been provided links with proof [that I'm sure you didn't even touch.] And instead of bringing up any point related to them you stick to your same arguments.

I asked you a simple yes or no question, and you seem to have taken it personally. It doesn't matter to me what you think the answer is, because the answer is always no. An infertile woman is just as much of a woman as any other. We are what we want to be. Your words mean nothing to me, and other peoples identity. [which let me remind you *again* that you've been provided links in the comments which explain this stuff better than I ever could]

[And let me tell you something. Just because we can't have kids right now doesn't mean it'll remain that way in the future. I believe that something will be figured out later in the future that will allow trans-people to be able to reproduce with their new reproductive apparatuses. Whether that takes years or decades doesn't matter. It'll happen.]

You used word meanings as "arguments". May I remind you that, words were created far before any research was done on this matter? [Not exaclty sure when or how much words change but I'm almost sure it's a pretty slow process, so they might be a bit or alot outdated. Not sure though.] And that maybe instead of etymology, you should be looking at psychology, and biology? [Links in the comments~] Trying to use words meanings as arguments doesn't really work out that well when we're not talking about words but people.

[And by the way. Where is your evidence? You've been provided links explaining this stuff, yet when pressed, you only choose to go to ... a dictionary? Really?]

[Also, since you've stooped into insults let me get in on that action.]

Why do you care so much? Like really. Why does this matter that much to you? Are you that miserable that the only joy you get is by hating on other people being themselves and happy?

Look, I know it's hard to find a purpose in life, or a job, but it'd be alot easier if you stopped being a prick and just let people be themselves. There's no reason to hate people who literally don't affect you in any shape or form. They're just being themselves. Cope. [Your final reminder that there are links in the comments!~]

Or do you just refuse to grow up and understand that it doesn't matter what you say. People will be themselves and happier than you will ever be?

I am not a debator. I'm just some angry penguin on the internet. I have left my piece here. And I won't forget to block this time. May this be the last time I see your miserable blog on my feed.

And for everyone else who comes across this post, trans or otherwise. Your identity is Valid. You know yourselves better than some stranger on the internet. Or anyone who's not you. Because it's Your Identity. Not these peoples.

Do not let the hateful words of bigots make you feel bad about youself. You are the only one who can choose your identity. Not some idiots on the internet. You. And let me say this again Your identity is always valid. No matter what others say. ❤️

Goodbye. 👋

[Even if you reply to this, I'm not wasting anymore of my time on you John. You've been given links, read them. The same goes for any asshole who wants to start another argument. I do not care for you. Find someone else to deal with your bullshit.]

Facts matter. #VoteBlue

[vinxwatches]

star trek: Lower Decks season 2

actions pact start. on the one side it's a very interesting conflict. on the other this feels like trying to undo the setup of the finally. ok, semi reset. like the option of them working together, but also maintaining the status quo

i do hope that main guy and main girl don't get together. i just think their relationship is so much better as a friendship. lamp shading animation errors. neat. odd to introduce a new character to just replace him with an old one.

ok. last episode did some lampshading. but if they just undo a major character death then that's just stupid. like maybe it's a reference to another show but that doesn't work in this show on it's own, and if the show doesn't work on it's own then that's a major weakness of the show. like if it's the plot of the episode great. but it better not be just a throw away joke or lampshade. so she's pansexual. it wasn't confirmed yet. yet somehow her being straight or even lesbian would be a bigger surprise. ok, they actually did something with it. more a joke, but at least it's something i can accept.

ok, i'm a very basic bitch. i just love myself some badass lady.

"we call ourselves the redshirts. makes us sound invinsible" even with my Very limited knowledge on startrek i get that joke.

everything tastes like black liquorish... well, being dutch would come in handy there. not like i'm the biggest fan of liquorish, but i grew up with it. random question: is liquorish related to liquor name wise? not much of a revelation. is or isn't he ready? what's their relationship like going forward?

roles reversed episode... but like... one of the big points is the that higher up often do a very meh job. showing their job is hard is stupid ways fails on so many levels. the point has to that it's rigged right? ok, they made good use of it.

so here's something i just thought of: the conceit of this show is that many people want to rank up, going from lowest rung to highest officer. this... well it's stupid. lets compare it to me: i'm a programmer. if the company i worked at worked like this then tough hard work and showing of i could move up the ranks. manager, maybe HR, CEO... i would not be able to do that. well except CEO because in big companies that's not a job. no matter how good i show of to be at making a program that's not the training i'd need to lead a team. i'd prefer the person to lead the team to be a good leader over being a good programmer. of course understanding what your team is doing well enough is part of being a good leader, you can't be a leader in construction and become a leader store management without training and be any good. but a leader wouldn't need to understand how my code works to be a good leader. their method of ranking up makes sense for a show (or a game) as it means the protagonists (or you the player) have something they can work towards. but in reality it's a sign of at best outdated leadership structures. now it makes sense why star trek has it: it's an old show based of submarine battles. so of course it takes hints from the military, which stuck for a long time or even still sticks to going from the bottom to the top instead of training people for different ranks. and as i said it works well for narratives. but it's still worth pointing out.

wait... why is there a door for the spaceport inside which spaceships remain? a massive interior space without atmosphere. i mean, could be justified as keeping it safe from debris, but still seems silly. i mean i was going to save compared to smaller hatches for individual ships, but that would mean multiple gates while this just means one giant gate all ships have to pass trough. still feel silly, but i can make it make sense. i doubt they put this much thought into it.

i feel so much for the lady who got angry over the ballroom dancing competition having to be postponed. damn you empathy.

damn this is a cool setup. and i already know the twist, it'll all be for nothing as the other ship will be able to save itself. either ruining the captains chances for success or making her want to stay on the old ship.

damn good finally already.

damn... that twist though.

[m1d-45]

⚠️THIS IS AN OUTDATED MASTERLIST !⚠️

please direct yourself here, to the new system!

as of may 31st, 2024, this list is officially outdated. i have hit the link limit, which means i can’t fit everything i’ve made on one post anymore! please note that this post will remain up for archival purposes, but will no longer be updated.

here’s my original take on the logistics of sagau, as well as an update after some more information, and here’s my thoughts on how nations worship.

1k event m. list!

warnings [⏵] : yandere / heavy cultish || obsessive

genre [title] : angst || fluff || hurt/comfort

traveller from afar — aether

‘I'm saying that I'm having a lot of fun traveling with you… It'd be nice if we could just go on like this forever.’

⏵ a new tomorrow

—⏵ my love, my god

the dark side of dawn — diluc

‘Diluc, of Mondstadt. Not interested in idle chit-chat. If you have things you want to get done, let me know.’

⏵ fallen through

⏵ a fault in the heart [red!]

⏵ tongue tied

windborne bard — venti

‘Perfect timing, Traveler! I was about to ask you — what is your greatest wish?’

⏵ unnamed poem, unnamed bard

⏵ in sickness and in health

⏵ (what about me?)

⏵ stella fortuna

beyond mortality — baizhu

‘Even though I'm the doctor, I've still had to trouble you with my health. How shameful... But don't worry. From this day on, I will take care of you.’

⏵ second chances

leonine vanguard — ga ming

‘If I can guard shipments, I can guard people. Since you seem to trust me, how 'bout I be your bodyguard from now on?‘

⏵ vanguard’s fortune

childe — tartaglia

‘Today was great. See you tomorrow, comrade!’

⏵ under duress

⏵ brainrot

⏵ duality of man

—⏵ inversion of fate

vigilant yaksha — xiao

‘I deal in death. If you cannot bring yourself to kill — speak my name.’

⏵ repentance

⏵ burden to bear

⏵ bird xiao things! (split links)

—⏵ and again, and fanart, and again, and again, and fanart, and fanart, and again

⏵ he who is without sin

—⏵ once more, and again, and again, and again, and again, and fanart, and again, and fanart, and fanart

⏵pari!reader tag (ft albedo)

vago mundo — zhongli

‘The market is closed and the port has settled. Go get some rest.’

⏵ sagau!zhongli

⏵ a dragon’s gems

⏵ to dream of the divine

⏵ adorned

pillar of fortitude — ayato

‘Good morning. A little sword practice while the day is young is good for the body and mind. I tend to avoid having anything scheduled during these hours... What do you say? Fancy crossing blades with me?’

⏵ words left unsaid

analytical harmony — heizou

‘Ooh, my goodness, life's really put you through the wringer recently, hasn't it? I can tell. Here, why don't you take a seat, tell me the whole story.’

⏵ the scars, the wound

—⏵ (old) first encounters

⏵ upon a hair-thin wire

scarlet leaves pursue wild waves — kazuha

‘Ah, you'd like to learn the art of the sword? Let me see... Alright — here, take this. It's a bamboo blade I just made. With these, we can practice sparring without having to worry about getting injured.’

⏵ remorse

⏵ in a flash

⏵ the wind knows

⏵ judas

protector from afar — thoma

‘I've figured out what I want to do now. My strength is your shield, and I will always be here to protect you.’

⏵ rain or shine

admonishing instruction — alhaitham

’Don't be offended if you try to greet me on the street and I don't respond. It's simply because I'm wearing my soundproof earpieces, that's all.’

⏵ divine permanence

verdant strider — tighnari

‘What, so this sort of thing needs official documentation now? Okay then... Well, hand over your "friendship certificate." I assume it'll need my signature.’

⏵ opportunities arisen

—⏵ prime fortune

eons adrift — wanderer

’Ask me anything if you want. If a question is interesting enough, I may give you an answer.’

⏵ wandering

⏵ rest

ordainer of inexorable judgement — neuvillette

‘Good evening. I hope you have not encountered any unpleasantness today.’

⏵ for all to see

emissary if solitary antiquity — wriothesley

'Want a tip on how to escape from the Gardes? Just give yourself a name that's really long and difficult to pronounce. They'll be stumbling over your name as soon as they try to announce that you are under arrest.'

pankration

pantalone — regrator

‘Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa is actually a gentle soul. Too gentle, in fact…’

⏵ ink, ink, ink

miscellaneous / multiple

⏵ in excess (ft. zhongli + xiao)

⏵ new hopes (ft. the arataki gang)

⏵ emotions (ft. mondstat)

⏵ the young (ft. your main!)

—⏵ still too young (ft… a lot of ppl)

⏵ plagued (ft. diluc + kaeya)

⏵ reverse isekai drabble (ft. your main!)

⏵ slapfight (ft. a lot of people-)

⏵ mea maxima culpa (ft. zhongli + barbara)

⏵ in the stars (ft mona + your main!)

⏵ replacement (ft. kaeya + venti + albedo + xiao)

⏵ discretion advised (ft. mondstat)

⏵ warmth (ft. every pyro character as of 3.4)

⏵ a soft place to land (ft. zhongli + kaeya + diluc + alhaitham + tighnari)

⏵ constellations (ft. barbara + thoma + heizou + collei + kujou sara + sucrose + candace +ganyu)

⏵ connection (ft. diluc + kaeya + kazuha + albedo + kaveh)

⏵ your shield, a sword (ft. thoma + tighnari + zhongli + alhaitham + cyno + albedo)

⏵ divine favor (ft. yae miko + itto + kazuha + kaeya + chongyun + noelle)

⏵ dead leaves (ft. ..people)

—⏵ new sprouts (ft. chongyun)

⏵ the rule of threes (ft. albedo + his brother)

⏵ darling, my dear (ft. diluc + tighnari + childe + xiao + kazuha)

⏵ sandy refuge (ft. nahida + wanderer)

⏵ dancing soldiers (ft. aether)

series!

⏵ dearly beloved — complete trilogy

—⏵ on broken bones

—⏵ death, rebirth, new life

—⏵ the scottish play

⏵ abiogenesis — complete duology

—⏵ from soil…

—⏵ …was birthed chalk

⏵ secret contributions — complete trilogy

—⏵ small miracles

—⏵ hidden blessings

—⏵ silent conclusions

⏵ spoken across stars — episodic

—⏵ kaeya, diluc, thoma ft. noelle + candace

—⏵ kazuha, wanderer ft. tighnari + baizhu

—⏵ zhongli, ayato, heizou ft. xinqiu + chongyun

that’s all for now! i hope you’ve enjoyed your stay, and wish you the best. if there’s something here you particularly liked, consider letting me know with a reblog or comment; i read every single one and they mean the world. whatever the case: i bid you farewell!

(p.s.: if you spot an error like a link leading somewhere it shouldn’t, a missing post entirely, etc., please leave a reply/ send in an ask to let me know as chances are i will not notice it. thank you!)

— midas

[yogurtverse]

My prediction for the new season

Hello. A while back I made a prediction on the elimination of the new cast on the assumption that the original promo photos revealed the full teams. But now that the mipcom posters revealed the teams I think I'll guess who's getting eliminated

16: Julia

Nothing about Julia really sticks out to me. My honest guess is she'll be a valley girl and get voted out first for screwing up

15: Wayne

Wayne seems to be the leader of his hockey team back home and I can imagine him trying to apply those skills to the game but doing poorly. I can also see Nichelle seeing him as a threat seeing as him and Raj could get someone else on their side for an easy alliance and be the first person she eliminates

14: Ripper

I think Ripper is an online name and that he'll be an avid internet user of some kind. I could see him also butting heads or being the Ezekiel of the season with some outdated world views which gets him eliminated (maybe being a stand in for Ben Shapiro fans or something? IDK hope not) but I see him butting heads with other members of the team and being the first person kicked off it

13: Millie

I see Millie as being a headstrong team mom leader type, but I also see her butting heads with Axel who would also want to claim leadership of the team. Eventually, Axel wins and forms an alliance (maybe with Chase or Damien) and Millie gets voted off

12: Emma

I think Emma will be the ditzy Lindsay type of the season. Maybe she'll work with Nichelle similar to Lindsay and Heather, but my current guess is that Nichelle will team up with Caleb and use his popularity to influence votes, with Emma being deemed unnecessary and voted off

11: Raj

I just don't see him getting to the merge without Wayne. Maybe he'll try to fill his shoes but not get that far before his elimination

10: Zee

Might be biased as a lot of people see him as a first boot, but he's my favourite design so far so I want him to make it. However, I think he'll be eliminated just before the merge as a liability to his team

9: Priya

I could see Priya being a more plain character like Sky or Zoey to bounce off the more animated members of the cast. But for now I think that role will go to chase while she gets eliminated by Axel's alliance

Merge (Damien, Axel, Chase, Scary Girl, Caleb, Nichelle, Bowie and MK remain)

8: Caleb

I think the first thing to be established in the merge is a rivalry between Axel and Nichelles alliances. I could see MK joining the other teams decision to vote off one of them out of fear the alliance gets too strong later. Eventually Axel's alliance chooses Caleb for his strength and charisma, but not before him and Bowie get together.

7: Axel

Nichelle uses the same paranoia tactic that worked on getting Caleb eliminated by Axel on her. Members outside of the alliance are convinced to vote her off to ensure she doesn't get too strong later

6: Scary Girl

I think Scary Girl will get eliminated in a sudden death elimination, or an Izzy-esque situation where everyone is just fed up with her antics. I still believe my theory that she's trans, and will come away from the experience with her new name and identity and walk away happy

5: Damien

I think once Axel gets eliminated, Damien will spend the rest of the season trying to get Nichelle and Bowie eliminated, going to almost concerning lengths to do so. I could see him getting eliminated in a sudden death challenge or Nichelle and Bowie getting either Chase or MK to vote him off

4 and 3: Bowie and Nichelle

With this being a 16 member cast and a 13 episode run, a double elimination has to happen eventually, and it'll end with a team up of Bowie and Nichelle Vs Chase and MK. At the end of the challenge, Bowie will throw the challenge for both of them, resulting in Nichelle losing her chance at the million

2: Chase

The de facto main character with the most focus this season. I think he'll be the amputee character and make it to the finale determined to prove those who doubted him wrong, but lose in the finale to...

1: MK

I think MK will end up winning the season. I see her being a relaxed slacker type who can think outside the box and provide creative solutions when she needs to. She would also have the WT Cody effect where she'd make it far simply by merging and then not having much of an involvement with any drama.

So that was my prediction for the new season. Please let me know your ideas for who you think is winning or losing

[brick-van-dyke]

Nope, more just hoping for any chaos in general to be helpful. Like, this wasn't a deep analysis or a concrete "I think this will ruin the military", in fact I didn't even mention it bc I didn't think it would be affected. However, I do think it'll help right wingers lose confidence.

As for revolution, it really depends on what theory (as in what specific type of revolution) is being referred to. I personally think a greater land back movement and stronger push for fighting for civil rights is on the horizon since a lot of people are, as you're saying, banding together. Meanwhile, I personally wouldn't agree with a Trotskyist revolution because I think that IS outdated and tbh never a good idea to begin with for a number of reasons (I have my own criticisms of the base theory but I won't get into that here lol).

I think it's important as well to note that I do very much agree with you, *but* it's also important to recognise you have to have enough love to fight for what's right and protect people you care about. I know that's obvious to say and probably something you already meant here, but I think it's applicable to resistance against systematic oppression in the sense of uprisings as well. Like I literally don't think the system used right now in the US is a sustainable one and tbh I personally see it as very totalitarian so I wouldn't put my energy waiting for it to be fixed from the inside.

Uh, basically, what I'm saying is actually more simplistic and not implying much beyond what I stated at face value; I think the failures to meet the expectations of right wingers (especially far right groups who have used Trump as a reason to become more active) will make them lose morale and slow down their ability to be as reactive in the long term, and potentially (though this is more just a hope than realistically what I think will happen) said failures making it difficult for governing bodies to remain as organised as, say, during a Biden administration because they'd be so focused on the mess Trump is causing due to his incompetence. Again, that's just a wistful hope, not so much a "I think this will definitely happen". I'm more focused on how continual failures will make him appear less of a figure for right wingers to follow and potentially lead to some advantages for activists to push the opposite.

But either way, yeah no, I agree that we should be all banding together. Been saying exactly that the whole time too.

He really talked Trump into naming it DOGE huh

[phantasmiafxndom]

Hey, quick question! Your blog title says that you're only taking requests for TWST, but I see you talking about OM requests in the present tense. Is the blog title outdated or are people just not listening? Lol

Okay so like! There are certain "active" fandoms on this blog, in the sense that when regular requests are open, people can request for any of them. Regular requests are what happen when I get all of the current batch of them in the inbox cleared out— or generally, as much of the inbox, as a whole, as possible.

But regular requests aren't always what's available. Sometimes, especially when I'm having trouble with the normal stuff, I do mini "events" where I take requests for specific things that I'm interested in at that time. Which rn, is TWST stuff. When these "event" requests are open, only the specific focus of them is available for requesting. So right now, the TWST event thing has been going on for a bit! I think I'll close that soon because my fixation there slowed down, but then I'll need to take care of the remaining regular requests from the last round of them before it'll be a free for all again.

Because my brain has been horrible and uncooperative lately, I've only been able to do what it's kind of accepting at any given moment. I also run like seven high-activity writing blogs, so generally, the time frame between rounds of regular requests is pretty long.

Make sense? :3

[naddahaintheforest]

About Harvey and Nicholas

Every person familiar with the first tv series of Sabrina knows Harvey has always been the most adorable boyfriend ever. And in the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina he still is very much so. With every chapter I loved him even more because of how sweet and supportive he is.

That's Harvey, the sincere guy, the nerd that has no hidden agenda and loved his brother more than he will ever love himself. He is the kind of boyfriend that hangs out with your friends, supports your passions and would reject having the power to fly if you weren't by his side, because it wouldn't be worth it.

.

Nicholas, on the other hand, is no innocent little vanilla boy. He likes sex, doesn't hide his lust or his interest, is straightforward, and is more than willing to pay the price of witchcraft. However, he also rebels against old, outdated traditions and will go to great extends for the people he cares about.

We still don't know what it is that made Nick so attracted to Sabrina, but it's impossible to ignore his dedication to assure she could go through with her plans in peace and as safely as possible. He went so far as going against the laws in his coven in several occasions and protected a mortal just because Sabrina asked him to, risking his own life while doing so.

.

Both Harvey and Nick represent an important part of who Sabrina was, is and will be. But right now, the only one that fully understands Sabrina's mortal and witch sides is Nicholas. He accepts both of them without pressuring her to choose. In fact, he likes Sabrina's dual nature. Perhaps that's why they share similar thoughts about the witching way of living. Moreover, Nicholas stated several times his admiration for the deep feelings mortals share, telling both Sabrina and Harvey how precious that is.

The truth is, Harvey will have to fight hard with himself in order to have that profound understanding of Sabrina's new life. But one thing we know for sure is that Harvey and Sabrina love each other so damn much that it'll be hard for them to remain apart for too long. Nevertheless, Nick is the friend and moral compass Sabrina will need in the new path she chose: not a stranger to what needs to be done, but with the strenght to stop Sabrina when it's necessary.

I'm excited to watch their relationships develop further next season! Who knows. Maybe Harvey and Nicholas will become friends, even.