#i figured i should remind people that this is. not one of those blogs where you can skip the about/bio

[magioffire]

ive been meaning to make this psa but i keep forgetting so-- here goes.

i would like to remind everyone to please make sure you read bio pages before interacting with my characters! i know, they are often very long, particularly vali’s, and im still working on making the formatting more accessible/easy to read, but theres *a lot* of important information there you would likely not know otherwise. . i dont expect you to memorize every single tidbit of information, but you can always check back on the bio to confirm or deny something about my character before you make a flat out assumption. or even just ask me! i dont bite!

 i understand that my about pages for my characters can get quite long and detailed, and that can put people off. people can forget things, and its easy to stumble over things in a big bio, thats fine. theres no shame at all in forgetting something or making a mistake, but i do begin to notice sometimes when people havent been giving my bio a proper read. though perhaps not as easily as i can tell when someone has put the effort in to read it, and trust me, i do take notice someone does that, and i appreciate it greatly. so thank you for that if you have taken time out of your day to give my bio a look at, i appreciate you. ive put a lot of thought, time, and effort into creating my pages, and making sure people have more than enough information to work with. thank you!

[clairellie]

hii !! first off. love your blog ?? need to read your abby fic !! 🫶🏻🫶🏻 and i saw you took requests. so um. hear me out, mixing the streamer!ellie with some abby x reader content.

streamer!ellie who decides to invite her two best friends to play games and stream. abby and reader being close to each other, abby encouraging reader, cheering for her while being a dick to ellie. "you got it, you got it!" she'd say to reader as she plays. "you fuckin' moron! you lost!" she'd say to ellie. anyway !! chat starts to notice how sweet abby and reader are to each other and ellie reads them what people say. omg. and maybe after the stream, abby decides to take reader on a date?? sorry if this is messy. just thought it'd be cute !! mwaaah 🫶🏻🫶🏻💌

OUR CUPIDS . . .

a/n: i loveedddd this idea!! sorry if this seems bad, this was done in like 15 minutes.

includes: streamer!ellie with sweet!abby but also mean!abby..? y/n used once!!! abby being bad down.

"okay, so today, i invited 2 of my friends to play a few games with us. abby, and y/n. uhm, we decided to play a few games of fortnite, so no call of duty today. you all know y/n right, and abby, right?"

ellie was staring off into space as you and abby introduced yourself, looking at a few posters up on her wall, surrounded by a shelf full of figures.

ellie was seated in the middle, abby on the left of ellie, and you on the right of ellie. ellie didn't want you two to sit next to eachother. she despised those moments when abby was only focused on you. always helping you figure out where everyone is, reminding you to pick up some loot, and so on. she never did any of those things to ellie, because she was already "good."

as ellie was talking to chat a bit, needing help with choosing her skin before you and abby joined in. once abby finished helping you, although she was honestly just talking to you.. she sat back down in her seat and loaded in the game as you did.

ellie had a peely skin, and you had the poison ivy skin on as abby had midas on. abby said you two "had the same vibe." she liked how your two skins complimented each other, and looked like you were sort of matching, just a tiny bit.

"oh! get that loot right there." "you got it!" "reload real quick.. yeah, now shoot him in the head." abby was always cheering you on as you played. ellie side eyeing chat, knowing that theres some kind of vibe between you and abby.

it took a while for the match to end, none of you getting a #1 royale. somehow, ellie died first. you and abby kept looking at each other almost every time ellie did one of her high-pitched screams or loud ass gasps. then you died. then abby died.

"HAH, you fuckin lost." abby said in a joking manner. ellie was pisseddd off. she couldnt believe the fact that she died first. it was usually you who died first, but ellie?! "you can shut the fuck up abby" "well i wont."

you had forgotten about chat. completely forgetting that people were watching you play a game. ellie looked over at chat, a few things caught her eye.

"THE WAY ABBY LOOKS AT HER?!" "they should js get married alreadyyy." "plz dont start the ships again."

ellie grinned, ammused by the way chat is obsessed with you and abbys relationship. "chat loves yall together, start dating already."

abby looked at her with a confused face, "excuse me....?" "look at chat. the way you look at her, the way you speak to her compared to me? come on now!"

you looked over at abby, thinking about what it would be like to date her. you now realize you already had some feelings for her.. but those got stronger. you would love the feeling of abby's lips on top of yours, the feeling of her hands holding your waist...

time went by quickly now that you werent really focused any more. a few minutes later, ellie shuts off the stream. "yall wanna get some food realllyyy quick?" ellie asked, now standing up. "yeah just give us a sec." abby said, getting her shoes put on and her leather jacket.

abby looked at you, "you wanna go on a date with me?" you stared at her, confused and in shock now. how could this all happen so fast? first you were just hanging out with eachother, then you find out you reallyyy like her, and now she feels the same way?!!

"i-i mean sure! i would love that."

"what time works best for ya?"

[yorshie]

11 & 10 with Raph, a sort of confession\first kiss type of deal please! I need my boy to discover being loved.

-justalotoffanfic ❤️

Oooooooooooooo. First kiss. I think you might like reading this if you haven't yet, But Also Thank You for Requesting on Blurb Day! Let's have Pining Soft Raph to fight off those Mikey Brooms for a bit, eh? (edit: uh..... I guess this turned out more pining Reader and hopeless kiss. oops) also, sorry i forgot to do this with the other side blog requests but @justalotoffanfiction

Being with Raph wasn't always....a straight line. The curve of progress sometimes doubled back on itself, or stalled for a bit before resuming at a glacial place.

It was easy enough to understand, you thought, watching him move purposefully through his workout, racking weights and eyeing the amount before he slotted himself underneath on the inclined bench. There were things you'd probably never know about, but the few big ticket items you had heard of left several things completely clear.

The Turtles had been hunted, and could be so again in the future. They weren't human, and people sometimes reacted badly to that. And the last thing, probably the root of your problem with Raph, was that there would always be someone 'better' for you, in his mind.

Someone that didn't live in the sewers, that didn't have a shell and a different amount of fingers, someone that didn't tower over you or place themselves in danger over and over again.

He was stubborn, you thought with an exhale, watching him knock off a weight from each side and slot himself under the bar once more, the suicide set causing his muscles to twitch under the exertion.

You watched the tensed line of a vein curling over his tricep, the little hollow below his elbow dipping in and out of existence with each flex. Your eyes followed the strain of his deltoid where it disappeared under his plastron-

"Whatcha thinking about, sweetheart?" His gruff voice called, words bitten short from exertion, and you blinked, pulled from your line of perusal.

"What?" You asked back, shifting in your seat, playing innocent even as you drank in his figure again.

"There's something rattling around in that pretty head of yours," He paused, knocked off another pair of weights, and you followed the beads of sweat running down the back of his elbow without conscious thought. "Gotta be something you're not telling me, isn't it?"

Your mouth pulled to the side, not quite a frown, not quite a smirk, and you finally stood when he paused once more, chest heaving as he re-racked the bar and glanced your way.

You could be stubborn, you reminded yourself, but another little voice echoed the words, sounding a lot more sure of itself than the immediate bravado. You could also push too hard.

"I just..." You trailed off, but Raph ducked a shoulder and leaned forward, resting his shell against the bar. He lifted one eye ridge towards you, clearly waiting.

When you still couldn't get the words out, he gestured you over with a jerk of his head, repeated the motion with more sass when you took too long.

When you finally stood in front of him, eyes taking in how his plastron swelled with each breath, the obvious way his arms had all but doubled from the exercise, you swallowed heavily.

Raph snorted at your ogling, one large hand coming up to tuck against your waist. "I uh," He tapped his fingers, slowly, against the back of your hip, obviously thinking, " I don't.... I really don't wanna end up doing the wrong thing here, sweetheart, but-"

He broke off, staring at your face, and you couldn't care less who moved first, just that you did-

And you were both stubborn idiots, it seemed, because you both bobbed when one should have weaved, and the first time you missed completely, lips nudging along cheeks instead of finding each other.

Your fingers found his jaw halfway through his eye roll, and his hand cupped the back of your head through exasperation more so than any tender feeling, but the tiny well of ire at how stubborn he was disappeared the second his lips landed true.

They were wide, and soft, and you could tell he was trying so hard to keep it sweet. After the third tentative scrub you finally lost your patience and opened your mouth to lick against his lower lip, and he pulled back with a grunt and a look in his eyes that promised retribution.

You grinned at him, feeling drunk, and a little bit stubborn yourself.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Could you do some modern day Soda headcanons please? I love him so much and I love your blog so much soooooo….

Ok so soda is tricky for me to write but I tried my best!!!

Modern Au Sodapop Headcanons

-Drinks every single energy drink imaginable. Rockstar? Like its water. Prime? For the plot. 5 hour energy? He’ll down it in five seconds. Darry is HORRIFIED.

-Is pretty enough he’s one of those people who becomes moderately famous on TikTok without having to really do much. His followers notice he’s always talking to someone off camera, and they’re desperate to find out who it is, but Soda only ever responds to comments with ‘oh that’s just Stevie, he doesn’t like TikTok’.

-Soda’s followers have a lot of theories about this ‘Stevie’. Soda is weirdly tight lipped about him, despite the fact he often breaks off mid rant in videos to talk to him. There’s also the fact that the rest of the gang is often around/in the background of videos, but the mysterious ‘Stevie’ never appears. (okok I’ll stop here before this becomes a Stevepop social media au)

-Regularly forgets to take his ADHD meds and Darry often has to remind him

-Would either have a hockey flow or a mullet (whatever y’all think, personally I think modern Soda with a hockey flow tracks with his character)

-One of those people who loves horror movies but is also completely terrified of even the dumbest ones and has to sleep with the lights on for weeks afterwards. Steve makes fun of him for it, but will also stay up on the phone with him if Soda watches one by himself and freaks himself out

-Has a million fidget spinners because they actually help him focus on stuff when he needs to

-Soda in modern AU wouldn’t call Ponyboy ‘kid brother’ as a nickname (don’t get me wrong, I love it but Ive never heard it used irl). Instead, I think him and Darry (and thus the rest of the gang) refer to Pony as ‘shrimp’ and Ponyboy absolutely hates it  “where’s the shrimp” “he’s has track practice ‘till four, you of all people should know that Dar” (brought to you by me and my interactions with my own little brothers)

-The whole gang is super into video games, but Soda is kind of shit at them and lowkey grumpy about it

-Every teacher he’s ever had has done that thing where they expect him to be exactly like his older sibling, and therefore expect him to be a model student like Darry, and every time they are proven entirely wrong. By the time the same teachers see Ponyboy’s name on their class lists they’re terrified of what to expect

-He definitely had that horrible middle school boy stage where he just reeked of axe body spray and BO before he figured out proper hygiene

-Every two weeks him and Steve end up doing some sort of YouTube deep dive where they end up being convinced of some sort of wild conspiracy theory that Ponyboy and sometimes Darry have to spend three hours talking them out of

-Uses far too many emojis in texts

-He had a pet hamster once and you know that thing died in the most horrendous way imaginable. Two-bit probably farted into the cage at one point as a joke and the poor thing asphyxiated to death or some shit like that

-He’s that kid in group projects who does nothing and tanks the presentation for everyone by mispronouncing half the words on the slides some other group member made for him

-Him and Steve are so inseparable that when they’re not together people will be like ‘where’s your boyfriend’ and he just answers without thinking before flushing really hard and sputtering a bit. 

-One of those people that casually catches snakes with his bare hands. Steve HATES it and Ponyboy is TERRIFIED of snakes so he gets in trouble with Darry if he does it too often or brings them near the house

[timetobeaghost]

The Noah hate mob is so much worse than I thought. Finally saw the story pic going through someone's blog. Cluelessly I had kinda figured a "sticker" is something you can add to your pic, like a filter. And I thought he might have made a dumb sexy pose maybe with a hot dude and put "zionism is sexy" on it. I thought he might have been somewhat douchy and insensitive, because that seemed IC to me, making a dumb post in a serious situation.

But no. He is making a selfie with a friend who seems to be involved in anti-antisemitism activism and wears a (literal, yeah everyone but me knows what a sticker is, I guess) "Hamas is ISIS" sticker, which is a very important message (because people did not use to like islamists cutting off people's heads and raping girls back when it wasn't happening in Israel, maybe they could remember that feeling) and holding Stickers in her hand that apparently read "Zionism is sexy", which is meant to proudly support Israel and Israeli jews, which is healthy and understandable considering it is a reaction to a horrible terror attack on Israel and to a reminder that its very existence in in danger. No, Zionism does NOT mean war! Zionism does NOT mean ethnic cleansing. To say this is antisemitic trash. Jews wanting the tiniest bit of land to live in peace and thrive is the farthest thing from evil. Do you know how many Jews used to live in the Middle East. Do you know where their offspring is now? ISRAEL. And nowhere else because they were ethnically cleansed out of everywhere else.

And no Israel is not perfect, radical settlers and a right wing government supporting them and all that. That needs to be solved. That in no way means Israel's existence and with that Zionism is evil.

Now still those ZiS stickers could be criticized as dumb, I guess. As flippant in a serious matter, but any hate boner can only be explained by antisemitism, and Noah really didn't do shit to deserve anything. And then he was told he should be put in a blender by Hamas. Hamas being a terror organization who really does specialize in slaughtering jews in creative ways. For context.

The only proper reaction is 💯 support for Noah!

If you are part of a hate mob you are those people, oh they had good reasons for their spontaneous anger, I am told. Spoiler alert: history has already decided you suck. And I can guarantee you the Duffer brothers deepest revulsion. No one dreams of appeasing you people! Leave ST fandom and enjoy your jihadism fandom, if that's where your priorities lie.

If you are on the side of: "Yes I know he kinda deserves criticism, but lets not overdo it. Bullying is not nice either", congratulations for being human, but you are the majority Germans in the mid 1930s and you can do better.

Because someone asked me what I say to a 6-year -old Palestinian being murdered in the US, I say this is utterly VILE. It was a crazy, violent murderer's reaction to the terror attack and it is endlessly tragic that this happened. It was not a reaction to solidarity with Israel's people. The pos was reacting to the actual event. Peaceful, loving support for the victims is the antitheses to that. I wanna ask back what you think of hundreds of children being brutally murdered or kidnapped in Israel on October 7th. Can we agree that this shit is utterly vile as well? Can we agree THOSE HOSTAGES NEED TO BE BROUGHT HOME? Btw?

[bambiesfics]

Hi, this is just to spring off of another TLOU blog’s post, which I thought was aptly worded: Please find that post here! and please find the original twitter thread on Pro-Palestinian resources here!

I just wanted touch on how inappropriate it is to use a genocide as an excuse to morally posture over other people in our community because you’re itching to play an own ego-stroking game of ‘whose a better activist than who.’

Outside of the strikes, and days dedicated to raising awareness coming here to say asinine, innapropriate comments such as “Y’all can’t stop posting about pixel pussy?!” Is extremely unhelpful and is just something that sows undue resentment in our community. When you do things like that, we know what you’re really saying, and it’s not nice. What you’re really saying is “You guys are shitty people for still having any remaining vested interested in this community, unlike me, someone whose an enlightened online activist. I’m above caring about that childish little 2D lesbian and the sapphic community it brought forth, despite the fact that my initial interest in her is why I was ever even apart of this community I’m mocking to begin with. I’ll pretend my corrosive virtual-signalling insults and jabs are coming from a ‘good place,’ and aren’t rooted in being self-serving at all! I’ll pretend that I’m not using this genocide as a vehicle to stroke my own ego for rising above ‘petty, immature things’ like sapphic media, sexuality and community. I’m highkey so much better than you all, I’ll just refuse to admit that outright. Instead I’ll continue to subtly mock your intelligence and distract away from helpful posts about this genocide, and hope you won’t see what I’m doing for what it is. My favourite activity during genocide is not to educate people and commit myself to Palestinian liberation, but rather throw stones, hide my hands and demean well-intentioned posts just because it makes me feel good. Realistically, not one person in Gaza was tangibly helped by the insults I left in the TLOU tags for people to see, but I won’t stop because I’m just a girl….obviously.”

Hey, listen: I’ve been to protests where the organizers, MY PEERS, were other university students who were 18-22, who have had the diligence to remind everyone in the crowd to NOT ENGAGE WITH ZIONISTS. Why? Because it wasn’t safe, because their goal was to inspire a conflict in what is intended to be a united camaraderie in support of PALESTINE 🇵🇸. If those young adults can keep steadfast to their goal of mobilizing for Palestine, then I believe these bad faith actors on TLOU tumblr should learn not to sow shame in people for simply posting a drabble (when not striking) in a community whose fiction they lavished the fruits of, not too long ago. Why? Because it’s not helpful. Because instead of posting helpful resources to aid Palestinians and educating your followers on the zionist Neil Druckman, and to remain mindful of the Zionist themes in the game, you’re using that voice, the tlou tags and it’s reach, just to demean people. It’s such a wasted opportunity to speak up. Hey, if you’re going to say anything in regards to Palestine, then say something helpful to them! That’s an easy enough ask. The yellow jacket community on twitter figured out what pro-revolutionary activism looked like as a community, and I’m proud of them.

I’ll put this in the Ellie x reader tags because I know people who say things like that, either tend to frequent the tags or the tumblr algorithm will push it because of their interests.

[atiny-for-life]

Ateez's Full Storyline Explained - Part 26

Masterlist

Golden Hour: Part 1 - Diary Entries:

Z disappeared, leaving the Z World in the hands of the Black Pirates and Thunder who established a new system in which people can choose to free themselves from the emotional control

Some choose freedom, some choose to remain under the chips' control, creating a two faction system - coexistence is possible and rather peaceful

Everyone now knows of Ateez but, instead of staying and letting themselves be celebrated, Ateez choose to leave the Z World in the hands of those who love and care for it, the ones who fought for it

With all the positive feelings still lingering in them, they dream together once again

Hongjoong

Three years pass, they gather their savings, rent an affordable practice room for dancing and singing and accept this world (the A World) in which no one knows them while remembering the world in which they were heroes

However, reality is a bitch and quickly catches up to them

In a capitalistic world, it takes money to make your dreams come true and, quite quickly, that becomes apparent

They barely meet anymore, maybe once or twice a year, and even then only some of them show up (being an adult sucks)

Hongjoong misses them, wants to just spend time with them, but tries to be understanding when they turn him down or fail to come to planned hangouts

While working part time, Hongjoong continues writing in his diary which is how he eventually realizes his memories of the Z-World are fading

To ensure nothing would be lost to time, he creates a blog, documenting their journey and readers begin to pile in, asking for updates and, eventually, a publisher approaches him, offering him a book deal

With a bestseller on the market, Hongjoong gets to hold meet and greets, give lectures, appear on TV, which is how his parents find him and reconnect with him

Ultimately, he now has everything he's been craving and asking for: a family, a career, fame - he should be happy, he has it all

But alone in his room at night, he wonders:

'What is this? This emptiness...' [...] 'Is this what I truly wanted?'

Seonghwa

Hongjoong's book is on Seonghwa's desk, looking at him

A coworker talks about how much his daughter loves it while also insulting it by essentially calling it absurd

Seonghwa can't think of a way to defend it without sounding crazy by revealing his past

Within him, there's still trauma, a world of memories burned into his retina of those poor dead brothers, the Sense Offenders' corpses hung up in the square, all the people who died at the hands of the Android Guardians - he can't forget

He sees them in the streets sometimes, familiar faces, this worlds' versions of the people who died in the Z-World

He still remembers the girl with the 'Be Free' bracelet, the girl who leads Thunder in the Z-World and wonders where she was now in his world and what she would be doing if she were in his position

Figuring she'd tell him to save himself so he could save others, he began focusing on studying, learning about ways to help which helped calm his anxiety, which is how he stumbles upon material regarding an upcoming Candidate Physical Ability Test for the firefighters

He passes, thanks to his regular exercise and dance regiment, knowing it wasn't what he'd dreamed of doing with his life but being able to see and feel he was doing good in the world - the results are tangible

How can he justify giving this up for the vague shared dream of being an idol?

He doesn't receive applause and cheers but he gets the heartfelt gratitude of all the ones he rescues and their families and, thanks to his appearance, he gets selected as the Fire and Disaster Headquarters' yearly calendar model - the photoshoot is nothing but a reminder of the dream he once held onto so tightly

For so long, he had wanted nothing more than to be photographed and seen, but could never make that dream come true... How ironic that he could do so now, but only as a firefighter.

After leaving the set, he returns to his office and picks up Hongjoong's book - it was finally time to read it

Yunho

In Egypt, people gather around a campfire to listen to Yunho's voice and guitar, a song which reminds one of the listeners of a novel they've recently read

While they talk, Yunho wallows in his past

Back in the Z-World, they had a clear enemy, they were united in their goal to defeat him and bring peace, but in A-World, there is no unified villain to strike down

No matter how hard they practiced and busked, he quickly realized regular meetings with all the members wouldn't be achievable for long

This world is colder than Strictland

People want fast intense stimuli, trapped in their short form content feed, no time to watch a full street performance, filming a quick clip they could post to their socials was enough before they moved on

People are apathetic - the laughter and crying comes from their phones but not themselves

Working so hard to put together a song, a choreo, a performance, and never getting spared more than a few seconds of people's time in return was painful, worse than the emotionless faces back in Z-World

Singing and dancing with the members became less and less enjoyable but, whether the others felt the same or not, he doesn't know - they never talked about it

Over time, their meetings become less frequent and his interests change - archaeology is now his prime focus

As Yunho stepped into the ancient pyramid, his thoughts ran wild. Maybe, just maybe, if he could find more otherworldly artifacts, he would be able to travel to another world and go on an adventure with the members once again.

Yeosang

Yeosang built a fortune investing in stock, allowing him to start his own business without being forced to depend on his father

After leaving the Z-World, they all changed, from boys to adults, they had to face a new reality - art, emotions, and dreams are precious but blind belief is dangerous

In this world, art and money go hand-in-hand - while originally created for the rich and noble, new forms of art have also been used by the poor to express emotions, to rebel and protest - the art reflects the power struggle

Right now, money is the biggest obstacle between their group and achieving their dream so Yeosang decided to tackle the problem head on: he reinvented himself, becoming a leader of the investment world - profit in mind but also investing in the arts on the side, even if that meant losing money

One of those investments was Hongjoong's novel.

San

Watching the members go their separate ways one by one was tough - San couldn't stop them but he also couldn't storm out and leave

After a lifetime of constantly moving around, he comes to think drifting may just be written in his life fortune from the start - there was no avoiding it

After another failed practice session, one where half the members hadn't even shown up, he heads out to mope and strikes up a brief conversation with an old man running a snack shop across the street

They talk about dreams, and the old man insists they're less important than sharing love, eating together, and cleaning up their own mess

The words get San thinking

He starts his own food truck and ends up in Jeju where he watches people share food with their loved ones, and gets to sometimes chat with his customers

Through meeting countless people, he quickly learns that most never got to realize their dreams

'So why didn't anyone ever teach us how to live outside of our dreams?' San thought. And he came to an answer of his own. Maybe I need to learn to welcome the reality I've been given, even if it's not the reality I wanted.

Mingi

Despite coming from a broken home, Mingi makes it big, becoming a professional model for a fashion magazine working with high-end designers

When he first started, it was supposed to be a part-time thing, a few bucks on the side, but the magazine blew up and turned him into a high demand model by association

The runway became his stage, his face now plasters street ads and a world famous brand made him their ambassador and calls him their muse

He makes a lot of money, his memories of a childhood in poverty fading, his worries about his grandmother's medical bills a thing of the past

His social media was flooded with adoring comments, his influence far reaching, but when he sees a group of boys busk at the side of the road, he still finds himself hypnotized

At that time, Mingi was overcome with the sense that he had crossed a river he could never cross again. [...] Where Mingi stood now was a place where results and achievements trumped passion and spirit, a place where value could be bought and sold. [...] He couldn't erase that vague feeling of longing.

Opening social media to distract himself, he sees a video of Hongjoong's reunion with his family

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is now a flight attendant (inspired by a drunk hometown friend who told him being on stage wasn't that special - people announcing sales and flight attendants were also giving performances at their jobs)

Looking back, he realizes he wasn't in his right mind when he signed up for flight attendant training, he was just desperate to be on stage somewhere, no matter where and the plane would have to do

After a long time of adrenaline fueled performances in the Z-World amidst that revolution, he now struggles to adjust to being back in the A-World - all the dopamine and adrenaline, the post performance excitement replaced with nothing but dread and anxiety

They couldn't just get back on stage and put on the kind of performances they could in the Z-World - there was no way to build a stage for yourself around here

So yes, deep in his despair, his friend's words offered him an alternative and being a flight attendant sounded like comfort to his growing fear of never being on stage again

While people normally didn't pay attention to the announcement at the start of a flight, Wooyoung's airline was looking to change things by delivering the safety warnings, destination, and flight time as a performance, a song with an accompanying dance number

Eager to volunteer and popular among customers and peers, Wooyoung turned his announcement into a show, grabbing people's attention, earning cheers from everyone

Wooyoung's eyes were drawn to a few people in the crowd who cheered and clapped louder than the rest. It just so happened that Yunho and Mingi were on the exact same plane.

Jongho

Still enraptured by music, Jongho earns his money by recording vocal guides part-time while studying songwriting and musical composition and creating original songs by himself

In the beginning, those songs were meant for his members, giving them something to practice and record together as a group, but being an idol group eventually stopped being feasible so his songs became solos and his career singer-songwriter

He’d already been forced to sacrifice his dream of being a basketball player

He refused to give up on music too

After uploading his songs to MusicCloud for a while, a label approached him, quick to swat his dream of being an idol by asking him to write a song for their upcoming idol group since one of his older songs where he'd sung with his members had grabbed their attention

It was bittersweet but he accepted and, soon, he wasn't just a songwriter but also a vocal coach, a producer - he was okay with staying in the darkness so others could shine on stage

One day, a second year idol group he was working with got into a fight - two members yelling at each other, one wanting to quit and the other shouting about not giving up on your dreams

After several attempts, Jongho finally manages to break up the fight and one of the boys confesses to him he wants to spend more time with his family because they're going through a tough time and being away so much was painful

The conversation reminds Jongho of his fight with Mingi so long ago...

Sitting in the empty recording studio, he played that old group song and raised the volume. The sound of the members' voices pierced through his heart.

[my-mt-heart]

Where's Daryl?

This was very difficult to write. It opened up a lot of old wounds for me, so if you read this, thank you. If my thoughts on this show haven’t been your cup of tea, that’ll most definitely be the case here as well, so maybe just move along. ***Trigger warning for discussion of childhood abuse***

For about a year and a half, Caryl fans asked Where's Carol? as a pointed reminder that the spinoff was always meant to be hers just as much as it was Daryl’s. Even though she's back now, her fans didn't always know she would be (nor did the EP's 🙄) so her absence during filming and promotion of the first season was a heavy burden to bear. The irony is, though “Daryl Dixon” sticks out like a sore thumb in that ridiculous font, he's the one who feels absent sometimes, as if important parts of his character development were lost when he washed ashore while other parts come and go as the plot demands.

Zabel talks about swapping Daryl's iconic vest for "old man" suspenders as a matter of pragmaticism i.e. they were the only clean clothes available. Norman says it was a choice he wanted for some unclear reason, but neither of them seem to consider the intelligence of their audience, particularly Carylers, to see it more symbolically. The costume change is our visual reminder that Daryl isn't himself. In some scenes he's chattier than he should be, far more trusting of strangers with personal details, and far more theatrical. Then in others, the differences are even more alarming. He calls a child cruel names, puts his hands on him, and feels conflicted about returning home to his family, to the woman he said he loved.

I mentally prepared myself for retcons, but the one I'm struggling with a lot right now, which I haven't seen anyone bring up yet, is the retcon of Daryl’s childhood abuse. Daryl tells Isabelle that he and Merle had to take apart engines and if they couldn't put them back together, their dad wouldn't let them have dinner. It's a milder version of the stories the scars on his back tell us, though I can buy Daryl omitting the worst of it like he did in the pilot. What I can't buy is Daryl saying his dad was "hardly ever" around and emphasizing it as the main source of his pain growing up. It feels contradictory for one thing. When we see Daryl's scars for the first time in S3 of the flagship show, it's implied Daryl was trapped in an environment that enabled his dad to physically hurt him often. Presumably that's why Merle felt guilty about leaving him behind. The revelation also seems like it's only intended to highlight the consequences of an absent father figure, explaining Daryl's fear of not making it home, but also justifying his "close" bond with Laurent. The best stories allow a character's emotions to drive the plot, but this just does the opposite, twisting Daryl's backstory to fit the current narrative.

Daryl's backstory made so many people root for him in the first place. It allowed Carol to see him when nobody else in the group could. It helped me process my own childhood trauma. The ways I got to watch him overcome his violent past gave me hope that masculinity could mean more than what I grew up around—more than anger, shouting, and swinging fists. Daryl taught me that men could still be tender, kind, and loving even if those closest to them in their childhood never showed them how. I imagine Daryl's representation has been important to boys and men too, specifically to those who were afraid to speak up about their abuse because of the stigma around it. The implications of this scene may not be easily noticeable to some, but they are to me, and I'm deeply offended by it.

I’ve talked at length on this blog about how it takes a village to make or break a show, though it’s usually the showrunner who has to answer for it. I've already mentioned that I do blame Zabel. His knowledge of French history has no value when he obviously didn’t bother to study Daryl’s history aside from reading old scripts and (maybe) watching the first couple seasons. That's incredibly irresponsible and terrifying for S2. I also blame AMC for their short-sightedness and their determination to save face no matter how much it costs them. I blame Gimple for his pettiness. I blame Greg Nicotero for his insensitivity to Melissa and her fans.

As for Norman, he's hinted very loudly that he wants credit for the show being "different," so in theory he should be prepared to take some of the blame too. I can't name all of the decisions he specifically made, but no matter what they were, I can blame him for not speaking up about the shipbaiting, Daryl's wavering loyalty, and the childhood abuse retcon, all things that hurt his character and hurt the fans. I genuinely don't know what else to think other than Norman didn't give either the consideration they deserve. The show has been treated like nothing more than a vanity project, and it’s unfortunate when you think about what he and AMC had to gain from the original Caryl spinoff.

I love the version of Daryl I knew before this whole mess, I love Carol, and I love the relationship between them. I want them to have the story they deserve in S2. At the moment, I don’t know how to reconcile that with the agony I feel over the damages to half of my two favorite characters. If Carol is going to cross the Atlantic ocean to find Daryl, I want him to be the man who threatened to punch holes in all the boats so she couldn’t leave and the man who told her he loved her before—ironically—leaving himself. I need to hear Daryl admit he hasn't been completely honest with the French characters, not because he was afraid of getting too close to them, but because he didn't want to face the pain of potentially living without Carol and TF. I need to hear him say that he can't be Laurent's father, which is okay because the kid has plenty of other family to take care of him. I need to hear him say, out loud, that he could never love another woman romantically because he's already in love with Carol. That's what I need to feel better about this story. That's where my investment is. I feel like Carol is safe in Melissa's hands, but I don't feel like I have anyone to rely on for Daryl. That’s a big problem because their stories are so intertwined. There’s no Daryl without Carol nor Carol without Daryl. If you ruin one of them, you risk ruining both of them, and that’s a possibility I really can’t bear.

[heliosoll]

hi jay im kat & i am new to your blog i am atm restarting my shifting journey & is on a 2 year break from shifting i am also a respawner <3 i just came into your asks to say hi & to see if you have any advice & tips for restarting your whole shifting journey also some for how to get your shifting motivation back bc rn my motivation is so low for shifting lol also wish me luck on restarting my journey thank you :)

Hi!

For tips on restarting:

Try to remember why you want to shift in the first place. I don't mean just where you want to shift, but why were you drawn to shifting? Why did you believe in it? Why did you give it a chance? Why are you still attempting after all this time? It's obvious that you want to shift, so ask yourself why. Do you want to be happier? Are you giving yourself a second chance? Do you feel lifeless where you are?

Once you've figured out the why, use that as motivation. Don't let it bring you down! Use those feelings as motivation to keep shifting! "I want to take control of my life so I will keep shifting." or "I know I can be happier so I will keep shifting."

Recognize that you control your shifting "attempts" and overall journey. No one else, not a deity, not even the universe. You. Just you. You need to allow yourself to shift. Some people kind of unknowingly sabotage themselves. You need to allow it to happen! You're the only one who can let you shift!

The past has served you, but for now, it's meaningless. It has zero control over you. Don't get back into shifting thinking, "I failed so many times"; that will just make you feel worse, and you'll doubt your abilities. Instead, try thinking of shifting as learning a new skill. Do children immediately master riding bikes? Are people born master chefs? Shifting, while completely natural, is still a skill you need to learn and get comfortable with. It's okay to stumble every now and then, as long as you don't let those stumbles convince you you're incapable of doing it.

Act like a master shifter, and you are a master shifter.

For motivation, honestly the best thing you can do is learn to have fun with shifting. Shifting is supposed to be fun! So many people turn shifting into this tedious, stressful chore even though it should be a fun skill for people to live their desired lives. It's not supposed to be stressful. So make pinterest boards, daydream, think about what you'll do once you're there, etc. Just learn to have fun with shifting!

If you ever find yourself feeling stressed or upset, take a step back and assess why that is. Are you feeling stressed about "failed attempts"? Remind yourself that you are in control and that you cannot fail. Are you having trouble with a particular method? Try a new one! I'm not saying you can't feel upset - don't push those emotions down - but I am saying that you shouldn't let those emotions control your shifting journey. Too many shifters let feelings of bitterness, jealousy, sadness, and anger control their journey, tell themselves that they'll never be able to do it, and then get surprised when they have trouble shifting. Trust me, have fun with it and I promise your shifting will go so much smoother.

You don't even need luck babe! You can do it 💞

[positivelyadhd]

I know I've been very inconsistent with this blog and I miss it dearly but I have a little positive update I thought I would post mostly to remind myself that things can change and do get better!!

I will leave details and little rant about my frustrations with mental health systems in the UK under the cut but this is mostly to remind you all that there is always people that can and want to help you. it's infuriating how difficult it can be to find those people, but I promise they are there. you deserve to give yourself the chance to find them.

I have been down a long frustrating road of not being able to get mental health support for years (mostly due to lack of funding ect for public services which is a much bigger issue nationally and I am endlessly angry about it and would love to Do Something and maybe when I'm doing better mentally I can do more activism or something!)

it's the same thing I hear a lot of people say on here and elsewhere but I felt like no one was really listening to me or understanding and that i couldn't talk to the people that would? I felt really lost and knew I needed help but when I asked the people I thought would be able to help (doctors, schools, uni ect) they told me they couldn't do anything. (more on that later)

but, after a lot of looking I have finally found some people that are really helping!! for the first time in a while I'm feeling so much better <33

I found a local charity that helped me figure out where to go when doctors have not been able to help and a therapist that specialises in EMDR (which has been so helpful, I was skeptical at first but it's so done so much in just a few sessions <33)

I've also now got an appointment with a psychiatrist with experience with ADHD so I can hopefully get a mental health assessment since I haven't had one in years! I know the non ADHD medication I'm currently taking isn't working for me and it hasn't for a few years but I couldn't find anyone that was able to talk to me about it and now I feel like I (hopefully) have!

I don't want to discourage anyone that may be reading this from looking for support or asking for help. The point of this little ramble is that it's always worth it. But unfortunately it is quite often a lot more difficult than it should be.

I cannot find words to really express how fucked up and angry that makes me and it can be so difficult to find them, but I promise that for everyone that is shitty, there is people that are trying their hardest and want to hear you and help you. that it's always worth holding on until you find them.

I also want to remind you that you have every right to feel angry and sad and helpless about it, that part of recovery is allowing yourself to feel all of the "ugly" emotions that come with having experienced the things you experienced. that there is no such thing as good or bad emotions and that just allowing yourself to feel how you feel and process it can do so much in recovery.

but I'm also so so grateful for this community and seeing where the world is going with neurodivergent awareness and activism now is giving me so much hope!

if you are reading this and you've had the experience I've had, where the systems that should've been able to support you weren't able to, for whatever reason. I want you to know that it's not your fault. that you deserve a loving caring support system around you and that there is one waiting for you. I am so sorry you have had to experience this, but as frustrating as it can be to hear you're also not alone in it. things can get better, and they are changing. and I know how hard it is to believe when everything else around you seems to tell you otherwise, but I hope you can give yourself the chance to find out.

[bethanysnow]

Golden Hour: a SKZ thanksgiving~

Writers Notes:

As I get back into K-pop and South Korean Culture. The fandoms of K-pop, and Stray Kids. I am reminded of my first holiday season having moved from Alaska. Coming from a big family it felt like the house was too empty, that I couldn't turn the tv loud enough to replace the people that weren't there. Everyone has had that at some point. A holiday, a birthday, or some event where you just wished that person or those people were there for. Even as good as that event or holiday turned out to be. You still saw an empty chair and thought it would be filled. So I write this because of that feeling. I have friends now as an adult all over the world and it's hard to convey that specific brand of isolation.

I know Thanksgiving is a very U.S.-centric holiday. But go with me here lol. I promise it's cute.

So to my fellow stays all across the world you make not only stray kids but also me, stay. So thank you. I may not speak to you directly, but if you are tagged below you have impacted me in your work, and blog, and it's been an honor to be in this space with you. I dedicate this work to you. I hope it doesn't suck!

@hyunsvngs @moonlightndaydreams @moonjxsung @ddyskz @queen-in-the-shadows @chansmanda @antoniorhinothethird @cbini @its-hannjisung @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @sweetracha @skzms @hyunjinfairy @7ndipity @forlix

Stray Kids ot8 X Platonic!Foreigner!Reader. (But honestly, it can be whatever you want ;) ) 2.7k wrds

"Vanilla! I fucking forgot Vanillia! God damnit!" Recircling it on the very long list that had been trailing behind her through the week. It was days before Thanksgiving and it was not only a herculean task to try and buy cranberry sauce in Korean, but also to find a whole turkey from meet markets and buchers who of course looked at y/n like she was insane.

It was only because Seungmin and Minho teased y/n about just how festive she was getting for the holidays she had to open her big mouth. You just had to, didn't you? Of course! Y/n was gonna show them just how amazing the holidays could be, starting with the third week of November. If she had to pull a full Martha Stewart out of her ass to prove her point she would, Y/n was already too deep into it now.

That is how she found herself in the middle of a grocery store on the outer edges of Seoul trying to buy potatoes and cursing about Vanilla. Y/n thought back on how she got into this mess while continuing shopping.

Originally Y/n worked as a remote context translator for a couple video editors based out of South Korea. That of course turned into more and more Zoom meetings and a vacation to Seoul later she had moved and worked full-time with JYP and Stray Kids. Still as a context translator, but also now as an assistant to their manager whom she grew close with. He was the big brother/father figure one needed in a country you weren't from originally. The eight boys who followed her around like lost puppies also maybe had something to do with it maybe just maybe.

Getting out of the store with her now chosen ingredients it was time to hail back to the apartment and start the process that everyone dreaded most of all. Cleaning. It wasn't the obligatory floordrobe, or the collection of maybe two mugs too many on the coffee table; but left to ones own devices the apartment was...not great for hosting what will be the greatest dinner ever?? One would love to have the ~aesthetic~ apartment you see on Pinterest, but fuck even the Idols she worked for didn't have that. So why should she? Y/n's roommate of six months was out on a bussniess trip for the next week, so she got to fight the great pile of doom on her own.

Walking in the mix of preparation and desolation that greeted her would make Marie Kando tremble in fear. But she was determined! The kitchen was stacked with dishes so strategically one would call her a master of her craft- now this artform isn't one for the faint of heart, but art nonetheless. Putting down the new groceries away in the refrigerator and cabinets it was time to start.

"CUE THE CLEANING MONTAGE!" Y/n yelled as music filled the room. Pretending to be a tavern wench as she cleared the table and did the dishes or Cinderella waiting for a Hwang Prince Charming.

As the night wore on it was becoming increasingly obvious cleaning the entire apartment wasn't going to be an option tonight. Flopping on the couch looking at her phone Y/n scrolled through social media. Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter (Authors note: Fuck you Elon). She stopped and tossed the phone down onto the cushion beside her. Her shirt was wet, cold, still sudsy from doing the dishes that needed to be handwashed. Her knees hurt from getting under the table. Hands ached with the grip of a thousand suns it felt like.

All Y/n could hear though was the quiet. The dripping of the faucet, the cars outside, the heater kicking on. But like a ringing in her ears she just heard quiet. No laughter, no joy or drinks being spilt over stories that don't see the light of day. The air was heavy and thick cold enough to cause goosebumps up her arms. Y/n had moved away from everything she knew on the hope that she would find her place in the world. That she would find her people. Maybe she had, but in the moment she exhaled all that was left was a tired body. It was for thanksgiving, it was for people she now considered friends to come over and have a good time. The emptiness in stagnation though diligently reminded her of why they were her friends in the first place. There was no support group here like back at home. She didn't have to think twice about connotation or what someone meant when they said something because they all spoke the same language at home. Found similar things funny. Understood implications of words and meanings. That was all gone. Working twice if not three times as hard just to get a foot in the door Y/n was faced with the reality and consequence of her decision. She didn't regret it. Or at least at the moment, she didn't. The gnawing in her chest would subside one day and she would find friends, family. People to kiss under the golden hour sun and dance in the kitchen as things baked in the oven. To sneak around roommates and hold hands under the table at a restaurant. She would find them, like a mantra she chanted this over and over while moving to Korea and now she sat on her couch. Looking off into the middle distance her brain coaxing her to the scenarios where she wouldn't find them. Didn't take that step. Didn't say hi.

Yet she was swimming in silence meant to choke her. Drown her hope.

It wasn't enough to be lonely.

it wasn't enough to not understand.

It was in moments like these did she allow tears to reach her eyes and fall.

Over her cheeks, down her jaw, her neck. Just silently spill into empty glasses that never could be filled in the first place.

Her heart was wretched and blue it needed a fire to stay warm and she was almost there.

She looked around the apartment and could almost see Changbin and Seungmin yell at one another about cards, or Hyunjin silently judging her decorations, Chan trying to help but being told not to, and Felix talking about the pie she made. Just like a picture book, it was so close and she blinked and it was the empty room again. Sinking her fantasy into the sea.

...soon

............its soon

~~~~

The days leading up to the fateful Thursday were one of a lot of shopping, decorating, and cooking. Lots of cooking.

Proving the bread to make the rolls, blind baking the pie crust, hell even making the pie crust to then blind bake it. Mixing stuffing to set overnight, potatoes to peel and mash, cranberries to turn into a sauce, a turkey to baste and season and cook, Arms deep in a bird stuffing it with stuffing.

And yes the fisting jokes abound.

The group chat that was made kept the phone buzzing its way off the counter with the fervency in which some of the boys texted.

Jinnie: What should I wear?

Wolf boy: Do we need to bring anything?

Cat: I googled Thanksgiving and...do you really make hand turkey art?

It made Y/n giggle seeing how excited the boys were getting. This was what she needed after the work put in.

Y/n: Wear whatever you want, be comfortable, but Idk..like nice comfortable? Stuff you wouldn't mind photos being taken in? No don't bring anything, and yes we did as kids.

Bin: ...So no girl group outfit? lol

Y/n: No no you could if you wanted to, but that's between you and Stay lol.

Wolf boy: You sure we don't need to bring anything? I can pick something up on the way.

Minnie: Oy, grandpa she said not to~ ;P

Wolf boy:

Y/n: I cannot wait to see you thursday. Don't kill each other before then. Or else no one is gonna eat the food.

~~~~

The day had arrived. At least the dress rehearsal had. The day before it was no holds bars, if it wasn't going to be done that day it wasn't going to be done. Waking up at 6 am Y/n padded out to the kitchen. Making coffee and something to eat it was the waiting before the rush. The inhale of the orchestra before placing their bow on the strings, the grabbing of a mic and feeling it in your hand, the stare into the crowd before going on stage.

The 'hold your breath and jump.'

And the race was on!

Dishes from the cabinet were taken out, the nice dishes, the ones Y/n picked up thinking her social life would be fuller than it was. Yes those dishes. Beautiful and shined like the inside of a clamshell, pearl dust and fairy tears was what the label read originally. Some rich people shit as far as she was concerned, she just liked it being pretty.

The table was set with a red tablecloth, and leaves from maybe the tree outside her apartment, (they were yellow and red, and who really would have noticed?). Crystal glasses, and tapered candles waiting to be lit. Pine cones and wreath garlands shrugged against window sills and folded oh so strategically a brass-coloured throw blanket on the couch to cover a night of drinking.

The food slowly grew from one side of the counter to taking up the entire kitchen. Even having to borrow a table from her roommate to set everything out. Drinks, games to play. The oven heated up the apartment till Y/n had to take off her hoodie and reminisce that maybe this was what it was like to put coal into a train engine. Warm light from the stove swallowed the apartment in an amber-golden glow. Sitting on the kitchen linoleum her head fell back against the cabinet under the countertop. A smile gracing her features. She could hear the timer tick by, feel the heat from the stove, she could look up to the counter top and see dishes filled with food and it was all for tomorrow. For a good day. To have a good day. It will be worth it. She was sure.

By the time Y/n had decided to fold the fabric napkins it was past 1 in the morning. Her phone lit up with a notification, and she swiped her pin to see it was a text from Chris.

"Hi"

"Hey Chan, whatsup?"

"Nothin, working on music. You uh sure you don't want me to bring anything?"

*sends a photo of the buffet that has been created* "That your answer?"

.....

..........

"You did all that for us?"

"Well yea, I want you to have a good time."

"Y/n-"

"Yes Chan?"

"Thank you. I cannot wait to see you tomorrow. Thank you for doing this, I know you've been homesick. So I am looking forward to it!"

"Me too"

turning the screen black Y/n sat back against the chair and looked at the now decidedly more festive apartment. It was like a hallmark movie threw up and she wouldn't change a thing about it.

~~~~

The morning had come. Unlike Christmas or a birthday, this was about family and gathering around a table and honoring those around us. That is what it was supposed to be at least.

Taking the most deep everything shower one can achieve Y/n had it down almost to a science. Lathering body washes, scrubs, hair masks, everything! To hope she could look maybe half as good compared to who was going to walk into her place in a couple hours.

Slipping into a green dress, she put on an apron. Putting the last rolls into the oven wiping down countertops and doing last touches.

She had a hour before all hell would break loose and eight of the most talented men in their generation would be walking in through her front door. It made her nervous.

Not nervous bad, but nervous. First time she had people over to her apartment, first-time friends, but also she did work for them technically. It wasn't lost on Y/n just how amazing this situation was.

How many people would kill to have these opportunities in life. Sure things hurt, and sucked sometimes, but looking around she knew she was grateful and that's what mattered. Till the stove timer went off snapping her back to what needed to be done. Rolls out, covering them with a kitchen towel, running into the bedroom to slap on some makeup and finish her hair. It was just as she put down the last thing did the doorbell go off.

~~~

The group walked in with confidence like they owned the building but Y/n would expect nothing less. All in sweaters and hoodies, sweatpants and big hugs for the host. Standing next to the door Y/n was crushed with biceps only the kpop industry could produce. Holding her tight she kept each boy embraced till they were the first to let go. With Han, Felix, and Chan that could last the entire night though.

"This is your apartment?"

"LOOK AT THE FOOD!"

"You made bread???!"

"Do we eat now??"

"Oy! Y/n you decorated for us? Why?"

*insert Minho elbowing them*

"Its really nice!"

Her apartment was now filled with laughter. Han finding a guitar of course needed to waltz through and serenade anyone who would listen. Chris and Changbin fussing with the tv to get karaoke set up. Hyunjin indeed was judging the decorations but with the artistic eye of admiration in reality. Felix and Seugmin hovered over the food talking about it, pouring drinks. Leeknow sat on the couch scrolling on his phone ultimately being more moral support for the boys at the television. IN staying close to Y/n watching the groups chaos ensue.

It was what she needed.

What she had been missing.

Family.

"Okay everyone, dinner is served!" Taking the turkey out of the oven and the foil off the tops of serving plates "Chan would you do the honors?" Offering to have him place the turkey out on the serving table. His smile reached his eyes as his chest puffed up with pride calling the boys to have a seat. One by one they piled food on their plates high, filling their glasses full, and sitting down at the table antsy so excited to eat with everyone there. For they too felt the separation of the two apartments, they didn't get to have homecooked meals or someone to plan something this nice. But Y/n did. She saw how they ate from food delivery containers, vending machines, and out of each others plates. Her heart ached as did theirs and so tonight, today, would be spent healing that pain.

Chan cut the turkey, Minho continued to smack people's asses because he could, Changbin got up and did a girl group dance playing the song on his phone. People laughed till they cried. Pie was served and everyone commented at how much cool whip was on Felix's because "That's how you're supposed to eat it!"

The sun was setting casting the apartment in that golden hour hue. Where Y/n had normally kept busy, ignoring the pit in her stomach of another day gone by alone. She got to sit back and watch her friends, her new family enjoy time together. Eat a meal that they didn't have to stress about. The golden light filled Y/ns chest with warmth and the fuzziness of blankets at a sleep over, the stuffed animal won at a claw machine, the bed of home after being away. Time had passed, and she could let go of the pain that held her back if these boys were the ones to catch her.

And they would. Time and time again they would catch her. All she needed to do was jump. So while Han sang a disney princess song, and Seungmin and Minho admit defeat that maybe the holidays aren't as bad after all, or even Chan stopped the ever-present work load to be in the moment; Y/n finally had it. What she had been wanting all along. She found her place in the world.

In with these boys, in the laughter, in the pain of loneliness, she had found it.

Uno rounds, songs sung, pillows thrown, food ate, it was truly a Golden StrayKids Thanksgiving after all.

Where no one can be forgotten.

~~~

La fin.

[shinakazami1]

TBG Shortfic

I wanted to write the meeting after the years I've mentioned on my TBG Davey ask blog (@cake-bread) in this post. It's nearly 2k words long and I do wodner if I should start posting my drafts on my Ao3 Jeueuehw but i hope someone will enjoy this! If you do pls let me know huehue

===

For Davey, the small game con felt like a nice change of pace.

He was happy that the game reception was good but he didn't miss the sense of being overwhelmed and constantly perceived. The days when he still had the energy to respond to emails and comments about his work were over. That didn't mean he wasn't grateful - quite the opposite. After all the delays, seeing the game published and still appreciated helped with his worry of him losing touch with his work.

But he didn't like how much his face was tied to the game. He wished he never uploaded the trailer on his comedy page. Or that he never mentioned it to anyone. Ever since the release of the original mod, TSP became him. He felt a bit sad that his love project made Kevan to be known only as The Narrator. It used to be funny a decade ago. And while Kevan agreed to work again with them and seemed happy, he did seem a bit tired.

At least he didn't judge Davey for destroying passion for his work.

He was worried he lost his own passion, too. Until he went to the con.

The first day went very well. In there, he felt like just a gamer once again. Except for his buds that invited him there, nobody else seemed to recognise him.

It was nice to just be seen as another fan of the media and nothing more.

There were no questions about why the release took so long. Or about what the Bucket meant. Or what got him inspired to create Gambhorra'ta.

Or if The Beginner's Guide would ever get an ultra deluxe release, too.

He sighed. That question was on his mind for a while. But he didn't trust anyone with getting to those games. Especially if it meant changing the engine as it did with TSP - it would completely miss the point of Coda choosing Source. And just trying to add or change any visuals wouldn't work at all.

He didn't even want to consider recording new lines.

Davey sipped on the soda in the red plastic cup and tried to see where he could leave it. With no table feeling safe or stable enough, he decided to go away from the retro game stand and went to his bud, asking them to hold the cup for a moment. Once they pointed him in the bathroom direction, he went there and stared at the long line.

He didn't understand how gamers could share the same bladder but that sight made him wonder if it was why most irl gamer meetings were speedrun related.

Seeing that the line didn't move in 3 minutes, he decided to get some fresh air.

He didn't know how much different it would feel than the dense air inside. It felt like a metaphor for his life but he didn't really have the mind space for figuring that one out. Instead, he focused on how dry his mouth felt, reminding him why he wasn't drinking sweet drinks as often anymore.

He noticed that a few people left the building and went to some sort of a shop in the distance. Based on their age and the alcohol restriction, he could figure out what they were buying, even if he couldn't see the writing.

'I really should go to the eye doctor finally', Davey thought.

The darkening cloudy sky felt like a timer. With no umbrella or even a jacket to cover himself with, the trip to the store seemed a bit risky. But for a small price of a beer or two, his friend would gladly come for him with the umbrella they had. And since he acknowledged the desert in his throat, he knew it would drive him crazy for the rest of the day. And that soda would only get rid of any droplet left on the sandy land.

As he walked towards the oasis, he looked back at the school building the con was taking place at. It reminded him of April 2009 and...

He decided to speed up. He really didn't like how his mind kept shifting to Coda. He thought he was doing so well of late. Everybody told him to move on.

Even he couldn't replay the games anymore.

Feeling a raindrop hit the tip of his nose just as he reached the shop felt like a sign. Whatever it was trying to point him to, he refused to acknowledge.

He looked at the prices of the water bottles and took the smaller one, feeling his wallet screaming. But so was his throat - if he didn't save it soon enough.

He didn't expect the line to seem longer than the bathroom one. He thought it was fortunate that it was due to guys coming in packs. He soon felt disappointed, seeing each one pay for their own drink. What happened to splitting the bill? Nobody liked to wait. So it felt counter productive, especially since this line felt more impatient than the last one.

Maybe it was due to the sound of the rain drops falling on the shop windows, reminding everybody of the weather. In just a few minutes, the school was not visible behind the wall of water. And more people seemed to come in, just to find some nice shelter.

Davey stared at the cigarette packages and tried to read anything off the labels. He knew his eyesight was getting worse but he didn't know it had gotten that bad. For the past 3 years, he spent most of the time behind a screen. Even if he finished most of his work on the game early in the development, he tried his best to support the rest of the crew. So he didn't really notice the change.

He snapped out of his thoughts when the cashier repeated it was his turn. The crowd felt only growing so the line moving felt like a minor thing.

The instant he got the receipt, he opened the water bottle and started drinking. He knew his throat wouldn't be grateful and would still feel dry after it but he wanted to forget about it for a moment. Just like he wanted to forget-

"David?"

Davey tried to dry the water stain off his lap with the receipt to no avail.

An overpriced water bottle, wasted. It brought the storm into the shop.

But something else brought it into his heart.

Even if his name was a version of David, he wasn't one. It was the same like Sam not always standing for Samuel or Samantha. It was a normal assumption to have and he just corrected people on that.

There were a few exceptions, though. And life just couldn't help but torment him about one of them that day.

He was about to turn over when he felt a hand brush his leg. Frozen, he watched it pick up the water bottle and stand by his side.

The last time they did that was at the bus stop over a decade ago. It was the last time they saw each other.

Coda felt just a tiny bit taller now. But the same cold aura was still there.

And the distance felt too small but too big at the same time. Memories felt within reach while longed words got stuck in an already dry throat.

He could only make himself stare at the face he thought he had already forgotten.

His mind felt both empty and full at the same time. Images of every rendition his mind made of this scene played before his eyes but none of them could match the dream-like feel of reality.

There was no anger, no disappointment. There was no shouting, laughing or running away.

Somehow, just standing just like that, side by side, never crossed his mind.

It felt as if he still had a chance to ask if he could stay over for that night. Maybe everything wouldn't turn out to be as tragic then.

He stared at the face but felt like he couldn't see it. As if his gaze pierced through it, not noticing the details or seeing the disappointed face he drilled in his mind after reading the message in the Tower for the first time.

He felt something on his right hand. He quickly looked over and saw a woman offer him a handkerchief. Without thinking, he took it ,thanked her and started to rub on the wet stain. His moves were automatic and he wondered if he wouldn't wake up in a moment with a saliva stain on his pajama pants for the third night in a row. Sleeping in one bed with 3 men was not the most comfortable but it would be way better than whatever nightmare he was having.

But if it was a dream, he had to get the courage. His actions didn't matter in these, after all.

Unfortunately, he knew it was a lie. Reality liked to show its sense of comedy timing and he knew he was the punchline.

"Do you have any socials?", he said, looking back at the other man.

He instantly cursed himself for not going on any other line from the 200+ ones he kept coming up with for the occasion. It still wasn't the worst one he could have said but that didn't make his chest any lighter.

It felt like a test he didn't know the answers to.

Fortunately, life did hold all the pieces.

"Yeah."

"What are they?"

He didn't know how he had the confidence to keep speaking. Maybe this was the way his throat was thanking him for earlier, even if it felt as if it was burrowed in dirt at that moment. He himself felt like he was drowning in some quick sand, getting consumed by the growing anxiety that somehow didn't show up on his face.

"Give me your phone."

The witnesses probably would think that Coda was some sort of a bully. He caused the other man to spill a drink, freeze in place and then put in his pin code and give away his phone without any discussion.

He couldn't see the screen. With how long Coda was typing and looking over at him every now and then, he wondered if the man opened the notes app and wrote anything.

Maybe that was the only way Coda could talk to him anymore.

But he felt there was no backing off. He was ready to face whatever he would be shown. He told himself so.

And yet, somehow, a locked Twitter account with the word 'pending' on the right was not something he expected to see.

Nor did he expect to feel a hand pat his shoulder.

Something about the casualty felt like a stab in the heart.

He would prefer to be yelled at. Instead, the sound of a bell ringing and the door closing filled his ears. He watched Coda put his hood on and join the school behind the waterfall.

Davey did expect that he would in the end get recognized on the con.

He didn't know if he would have preferred being asked about the significance of the Fern or the whole fever dream he had just experienced.

He went to buy another water bottle and a beer for his friend. He couldn't focus on the rest of the con, searching for a familiar figure.

Two days later, the pending button changed into the following one.

He didn't expect to get a 'Hey.' the same day.

Nor that he would ever again be able to say 'Hi, Coda.'

The rainy weather was no more.

But the sun was shining a bit too brightly.

===

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

so much on Ficino & Plato & Sex

your daily Marsilio blogging continues, this time with the gentle reminder of the deep misogyny of most homoerotic anything in the medieval and early modern period (among other times as well).

At the same time, I appreciate Marsilio being like: Fuck this, we can do the Petrarchan model of Ideal Love too. Just watch me and Giovanni yearn for twenty years.

I do appreciate that in the whole of Ficino's writing he rarely, if ever, refers to sex between men as sinful. He uses terms of disgraceful, filthy, worthy of disgust, ugliness etc. but he uses those terms equally for heterosexual sex conducted for pleasure alone with no intention of making the babies. Corporality on the whole - in all its forms - is the problem. (And the contemporary medical hang-ups around the expulsion of semen aside.)

But it's still not sinful, it just makes it harder to climb the ladder of love to salvation. Some might think this a small thing (he still reads it as bad!) but there's a huge gulf of difference between a priest from 1478 saying X is disgraceful but never using the language of sin around it.

Granted, Ficino doesn't harp too much on sin in general. I would be very curious to go back in time, get him a little wine drunk, and ask him his actual, not-Church approved views.

Ficino loves trying to reconcile everything through Plato. Marsilio "What if We Applied Plato to This Situation??" Ficino.

The desire/beauty thing - you can just see his struggle in trying to make it all work and never quite succeeding. It's one of the many things he and Pico debated with great animation. Pico was anti-the physical desire part of Ficino's formula while Ficino believed salvation/finding Philosophic Truth (i.e., God) required it.

I do really love Ficino's broadly positive read on humanity. He always goes in with a: People Are Good approach to a situation.

I love this little caveats he gives in his writings. The bit: "Love, even when mixed with an inderior appetite [for sex], does not cease meanwhile to raise the soul as far as it is able."

Giovanni having a panic about the state of their souls as they lie about in the grass and Ficino thinking fast on how to assuage him. "Umm, look, this isn't ideal, and we really should try harder to resist. But ... uh... Love is Good. Right? Our Love is Good and holds no Evil, correct?'

Giovanni, 'Yes, that is correct.'

Ficino, 'Great, so because our Love is Good and our Souls naturally desire Truth and Love is always working to help raise our souls up to Truth - even when we uhhhhh slip up, shall we say--'

Giovanni, 'We purposefully went into a remote field to commit sodomy. This wasn't an accidental slip up, Marsilio. You even checked to make sure you had time enough after this to confess and seek absolution so you can say mass on Sunday.'

Ficino, 'Slipped up. Could have happened to anyone. Anyway, even when that happens Love is still raising our souls up as far as it is able. So what I'm saying is, don't worry about it.'

the knots this man will tie himself in to try and make it ok to accidentally, whoopsie daisy, sleep with men. That full quote from him on how homosexual consorting (sex, that is what he means quite literally) is part of spiritual procreation is really something else.

I also think the caveat he includes of "of course, naturally, when you're horny you should go to your wife to make sure you're doing sex Properly" is doing a lot of interesting work there.

"Giovanni and I loving each other is necessary for OUR PHYSICAL HEALTH OK??"

Technically, he's not wrong. In the sense that being able to openly and honestly love/be loved by who it is you desire - regardless their gender - is incredibly important to mental health which impacts physical health.

mess! mess! mess!

this is super interesting. That Ficino was attempting to figure out how to guide people through reciprocal love in a world where that wasn't normal to navigate.

All of Ficino's back and forth on sex, desire, beauty, love is just so telling of how much he wanted to resolve the issue and how knotted everything was for him (and he wasn't alone, obviously).

--

ok I'm done inundating everyone for now.

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

I can't in any capacity say that I'm an ally to anyone. That's not me being an asshole. That's not me being a bigot. I'm an ally to no group. I'm a friend to people. And I care about people. Someone asked me about one of my asks where I got called a transphobe and a homophobe and it reminded me about the topic in general.

Fact is I don't care what color you are. What religion you belong to. What sexuality you are. What Identity you assume. If you are not a dick to me or to people that I care about, I won't take issue with you. What's weird though is to be called homophobic when a lot of my friends are lgbt. And this is not one of those, "Well I have a black friend" moments. I legit have friends from varying walks of life. One of my best friends from college was a gay black furry. And one of my favorite past times was picking on him in playful ways. Why? Because if was always fun to see him flustered and he actually thought it was funny. Am I gay? No. I'm comfortable in the fact I'm straight. And my friend knew that.

There are going to be a lot of things that people say that I don't agree with. Does that make me hateful? No. It just means that I have my own views on things. I however understand that if I WAS hateful towards certain groups, I'd have to be bigoted against a huge number of my friends. Like my college buddy from Sri Lanka, his friend and our roommate who's have Korean half Black. Several of my ex GF's who've been bisexual. Even friends of mine who are lesbians whom I've defended in public after they have been accused of being transphobes for, and I'm not kidding, "No being willing to suck the dicks of trans women". That's not a fucking joke. And it's sick.

I've made posts about how I'm not an extremist because I'm not. Fact is, and I mean this, I should not be considered an bigot because I don't worship a movement. No one else should either. And on my blog I will cover a lot of topics. Like:

-Groomers -Gun Laws -Radical Feminism -Black Representation in TV and Movies -Race Swapping -Capitalism -Communism -Socialism -Anarchy -State and Federal Powers -Etc.

And there will always be more. I'm not transphobic. I just want kids left alone. I'm also not homophobic, but again leave kids alone. If you are an adult you can love another consenting adult. I take ZERO issue with it. And I never will take issues with it. My only focus on any of that stuff is quite literally "Let kids be kids. Let them figure out who they are without pushing them. Don't sexualize them ever." Simple rules to live by. Anything else? I'm willing to have a discussion about. Hell I've been on record losing my shit at least in one of my reblogs borderline making promises to deal with anyone who would threaten any of my friends/family irl because they are LGBT.

What many don't understand about me is that I'm an angry ginger who is actually pretty moderate on most issues. And it's only in cases where people belong to cult like mentalities that anyone can even REMOTELY consider me hateful or radical. More so when we consider that the only people I actively hate are those that actively seek to harm others. And not just in a weird way that won't do anything. I'm talking people that WILL or would enact actual violence onto people I care about. Like the FBI. Or Antifa. Or real extremist white supremacist's. Or segregationists leftists who have called some of my non white friends "house N-". I typically don't give that word any power myself and most of my friends don't, but believe me when I tell you, I'll make you look like a punk and I won't even have to touch you.

So even the notion, that I'm X type of bigot is hilarious to me. And no amount of this, "Bow to me and my ideology or you are a bigot" will make me change who I am to my friends, my family, and the people I care about. I worship no one. And I will never bow to your cult like ideals. And maybe one day, someone like the person who sent that ask will find it justifiable to kill me. Who knows. I certainly don't. All I do know is that I'm a very caring person. And a lot of the time the stuff I mean get's lost in translation. What I say might be interpreted one way by one person and another by someone else.

That's just reality. But if you can't even come to me and ask for clarification, or you just expect me to placate someone because of the group they belong to, then you are barking up the wrong tree. You are not my friend. You are not my family. And a number of you are people that would actively endorse having me end my own life, or wishing someone would end my life for you.

Why? Because you are tyrants. You believe yourselves gods and that your "moral rights" are and should be everyone's "Moral rights". You will not rule me. You will not control me. You will not make me worship you as if you were gods. I am me, and only me. And I will live me best life not just for myself, but for the people I hold dear.

[mayonaisalspray]

whats the tea with jester and plurality. also is the toxic yaoi canon or was that for funssies and just a side thing?

AHAHAHAAH YES!!! thank you…

Putting this under the cut cause it’s going to be long. Also mentions of death, violence, childhood trauma and uh. Toxic yaoi I guess

Okay so Jester is my most fucked up oc. I really went off with torturing this guy. It’s a Zangoose who switched places with a child. He was thought of as broken by his parents, who desperately searched for a way to “bring him back to normal”. He lashed out. He got into fights at school. It fought like an animal because that’s who he wants to believe it still is. But he isn’t truly an animal anymore. Jester sees himself as a beast with a human heart, and it hates it.

It could maybe have gotten better overtime. He befriended a Leafeon that he was able to communicate with. He got older and started exploring spaces with fairly likeminded people online. If only his parents desperate search for a solution didn’t lead them to borrow money they could never return. They paid for it! And so did their son.

Jester got to watch the people who tried to care for him die. And then, it got to watch his Leafeon friend die! With one less eye! Because I wanted him to have the same scars as a Zangoose. As another fun reminder

Jester doesn’t have the words to describe it, but that night it developed headmates. It thinks of them as “The Spirit Of Man” and “The Spirit Of Beast”. The Spirit Of Man is a young child, and looks very similar to how Jester physically looked when it first became human. He’s cautious, wary of many things, but also wants them all to move on from the past. She hates that Jester insists on his violent form of justice. The Spirit Of Beast is, you probably guessed it, a Zangoose. It is cunning, observant, but fairly gullible. It doesn’t understand why Jester does what it does. Jester is supposed to be an animal, yes? Wounded animals shouldn’t put themselves in danger like he does.

Jester has been trying to ignore them for years. It thinks they are those “intrusive thoughts” that people talk about (though he does also have those). Neither of them have been able to convince him to stop his “Seviper Hunt”, but as long as what Jester is doing isn’t related to that he might listen. Most nights they try to interfere in small ways. The Spirit Of Beast tries to remind Jester that their body is fragile, and forces him to take care of it. The Spirit Of Man tries to remind Jester that there is no reason to struggle like he does, and she convinces him to look for help.

Though of the three, only Jester is able to front. There have been days where due to frustration it has wanted to step away from the controls and let someone else figure out what to do. Both Spirit Of Man and Beast have tried to front on these days (and others of course) but neither have been able to.

Okay so about Poison Point (Jester and Tetra ship name) uh. So. It is technically canon? Not in the same universe that both their blogs played out on but in like. Their canon oc storyline. Does that make sense? I hope it does

It really just came about because I was listening to a song (I don’t remember what song sadly) and I got thinking about both of them and realized they would be SO terrible for each other. Neither of them have been in a relationship. They’re both obsessed with something to the point of madness and nothing else matters. They can both use each other to further their goal. They’re both spiteful and angry and violent and very often covered in blood and the suffering one brings fuels the life of the other. I think they should have gay sex by sitting fully clothed in a room playing mind games with each other

Anyways I like these two so much I’m destroying my entire art fight account this year so that they (and my fursona lol) are the only things there. Which means I will be drawing and talking about them more. Which is fun for me and I think me only. I need to draw them as Mesmerizer soooo bad holy shit

[canary0]

May 4 - Dracula 2023

When I came out for breakfast, the hotel concierge let me know that the count had contacted them to ensure I had the best seat in the bus over the mountains, which… Is there a best seat on a bus? I suppose one with a good view that lets you get out easily. I asked for more information, but they pretended not to understand, despite having answered all my questions earlier. When I used a translator to ask in Romanian, they said it came out as nonsense and still couldn’t answer me.

A little bit of checking showed that that was nonsense, but if they didn’t want to answer, such is life.

The front desk staff did look at each other quite nervously when I asked after Count Dracula. One of them crossed themselves, and the other assured me that they knew nothing at all, aside from what they were given when things were arranged. There wasn’t much for it. I went to gather my things, since it was nearly time to leave, but when I left the room again with my bags, one of them appeared at my door, a woman, her expression tight with fear.

“Must you go? Oh, must you go?” They spoke quietly, perhaps worried that their coworkers might overhear for some reason. Those phrases were most of what I got from her – Translate doesn’t exactly give one an understanding of the language. Eventually, after a lot of questions, she asked if I knew what day it was.

“The… fourth of May…?” I asked. I wasn’t quite sure where the line of questioning was going.

“Yes, but do you know what day it is?” She insisted, staring into my eyes with determination, as though this should be obvious.

I truly gave it some effort to figure it out – National Day in Romania was December 1st, I think, so it wasn’t that. No major holidays that I knew of, and she didn’t seem… positively inclined about the date, if I had to put a point on it. Finally, I shook my head. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“It is the eve of St. George’s Day! Even around here, most people don’t remember much anymore that when the clock strikes midnight tonight, all evil things hold sway. And here… Do you know where you are going? To whom?” She asked, insistent, seeming in great distress with her fervor. “Please…! I will pay for tonight myself, if only you will not leave.” She reached out, taking my hand in a tight grip.

It was quite honestly very uncomfortable. I tried to assure her that it would be all right, but nothing I said seemed to help, since I couldn’t delay. Mr. Hawkins entrusted this task to me. I told her that – my work is imperative, and I couldn’t delay just for the sake of the date. I took my hand from her, as well, the grip almost having become painful in her panic.

She nodded and wiped her eyes, and allowed my hand to go. She took a crucifix from her neck and held it out to me. I wasn’t sure about it – religious or not, it feels odd to accept a crucifix as someone. She seemed to be able to tell and shook her head, pressing it into my hand.

“Please. For your mother’s sake,” she finally insisted, putting it around my neck herself.

How is one supposed to say no in a situation like that, with someone in such obvious distress? I just nodded, and she seemed relieved, but I was left uneasy. Maybe the crucifix made some of those old superstitions she brought up feel more real? Either way, I’m left waiting for the bus, mulling over what she said. I find my hand making its way to touch the crucifix around my neck – I can’t help but be aware of it.

I suppose, if something happens to me, Mina will have this blog. At least I can say I called her and heard her voice before we took off.

Here’s the bus!

(A/N: I had to make a few adjustments to these scenes to account for a less religious world and a more modern Romania. The Coronea de Aur (The Crown of Gold, I think) hotel is quite the modern business hotel in Bistrita, so it’s a very different setting to suddenly be reminded of the spookiness of the region in. England is also a good bit less religious than in the Victorian period, so I’m trying to subtly account for that, too.

I had to make a decision in this scene, because the book says it’s a crucifix specifically attached to a rosary, but uh... you don’t wear those around your neck for the most part, not casually when you’re not praying it. As far as I could find. Catholic people, feel free to correct me.

BTW, in the last chapter, Lucy technically has a more Mori Girl aesthetic board, but Jon doesn’t know the difference between that and cottagecore. She just seems like the sort of person who would.)