#of course inaccessible of course of course what else it would be

[mariasont]

friendly fire

when you get tipsy, hotch struggles with an overwhelming need to protect you

pairing: aaron hotchner x sweetheart!reader warnings: fem!reader, tipsy reader, alc consumption, reader saying she likes hotch's nose prompt: here wc: 0.9k

Hotch’s mid-conversation with Rossi — something about fishing, or wine, or God knows what — when he catches himself looking past his friend, scanning the patio for what feels like the twentieth time.

He locates you instantly, smiling barefoot, your dress catching the fading sunlight as Garcia and Emily enthusiastically coax another drink into your hand.

He immediately reprimands himself internally for this constant vigilance, this needless protectiveness, but it’s too late to pretend otherwise. It’s already embedded deep within him, the subconscious urge to keep tabs on your every move. 

Here, removed from the structured predictability of life back in Virginia, that same urge feels amplified, somehow justified by unfamiliar surroundings — but that rationale doesn’t completely ease his embarrassment over how closely he’s monitoring you.

You catch him looking — of course you do — and Aaron feels a quick heat rise along his collar. He suppresses the urge to look away, instead opting to awkwardly clear his throat. 

He considers, briefly, returning to Rossi’s neglected conversation, except Rossi, it seems, had already given up on him, vanishing inside without Aaron even noticing.

Before he can feel truly guilty for his shitty conversational skills, you’re already padding toward him, swaying a little, a sweet, confused smile on your face.

“Hotch,” you say softly, and maybe a little sleepy. “Do you know what happened to my sandals?”

Aaron frowns slightly, genuinely perplexed.

“Your sandals?” He shakes his head. “No, I haven’t seen them.” But the look on your face — a little dazed, a little dreamy — has him cocking his head to the side, concern filtering through his confusion. “Are you alright without them? Should we find them?”

A laugh bubbles up as you shake your head emphatically.

“No,” you manage between airy giggles. “It just felt important to ask.”

Aaron ducks his head, hiding a reluctant smile behind a casual nod.

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll keep an eye out for them.” He pauses, taking in your bright, glassy eyes. “In the meantime, do you think you might want some water?”

“I’m okay. But thank you very much for asking.” Even drunk, your manners remain perfectly intact. “Can I maybe just stay here with you? We don’t usually get to spend much time together like this, you know — as friends.”

Your softly slurred request strikes a delicate nerve inside Aaron.

Had he truly seemed so inaccessible — someone you could only approach when your inhibitions were lowered by alcohol? Rationally, he knows it’s a product of rank, professionalism, and perhaps his naturally reserved demeanor — barriers he unintentionally reinforces every day.

Still, knowing you’d felt the need to overcome them through a few spritzers leaves him oddly unsettled.

Maybe he needs to ease back a bit. Maybe he’s doing more harm than good.

Aaron swallows quietly, calming the rising fluster. His immediate concern, though, is your clearly unstable footing.

“Sure,” he replies warmly, adding quickly, “though maybe sitting would be better?”

He eases you toward the outdoor couch, silently determined not to smother you, even though every wobble in your step makes him tense slightly.

You settle beside him, closer than expected. So close, in fact, that he feels a subtle heat rise in his cheeks. You’re sitting cross-legged, facing him fully.

“Do you think we would’ve been friends if we met somewhere else — without all the FBI stuff?”

He knows the answer. No. Of course not. With the age difference alone, he doubts your paths would’ve crossed naturally, let alone sparked a friendship.

Beyond that, the awareness that your father had once been his roommate hangs uncomfortably in the back of his mind, despite the clear reality that he’d never even met you until your first day on his team. The ghost of misplaced guilt still persists.

For what? He’s not sure.

But right now, with your hopeful, slightly blurry-eyed gaze fixed expectantly on him, Aaron opts for gentle misdirection instead of complicated truths.

“I think we would,” he replies. “Though I imagine you probably would’ve found me unbearably dull.”

“That’s not true at all.” You shake your head at him. “I find you highly fascinating.”

“Highly fascinating,” he murmurs, clearly entertained by your choice of words. “I didn’t realize I was so interesting.”

You don’t seem to register the gentle teasing in his voice, leaning closer instead, fingers curling around his arm. 

“You are!” you insist, nodding eagerly. “You’re smart, and you always know what to say, and the whole team respects you, and,” you tap the bridge of his nose as if to illustrate, “and you have a really great nose by the way.”

Of all the things he’s anticipated hearing from you — or anyone, really — a compliment about his nose wasn’t exactly on his list.

“Thank you.” He clears his throat. “Though, I think water might be more helpful for you than discussing my nose.”

“I disagree,” you protest stubbornly, but your voice fades into a sigh, your head drifting until it settles comfortably against his shoulder. “But… you’re the boss…”

Aaron stays perfectly still, breathing shallow. He tells himself he’s merely being considerate, letting you sleep off the alcohol, but he knows it’s more than that. He stays long past the point of necessity. 

When the team finally migrates to where you were, chatting softly, Aaron fixes them with a pointed look that clearly states to let you be. Garcia bites back a grin, Emily arches a brow, but not a single one dares disturb your peace or his.

Maybe tomorrow he’ll retreat behind professionalism again. Right now, Aaron lets his guard down just a fraction, accepting this temporary closeness as something that’s allowed, at least for tonight.

join me at the beach for my 1 year/4k event!

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[mutable-manifestation]

Ghost Chirps AU Part 4

A little treat in these trying times

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

***

The first time Daniel chirps (to Vlad’s knowledge, but it’s actually the fifth, he was just out of range in the GZ all the previous time) Vlad responds immediately. 

The boy attacks him just as viciously as ever, and Vlad assumes from then on that the boy is merely taunting him, crying out for family only to go “no, not you.”

Vlad ignores it from then on. It isn’t particularly frequent anyway.

When he hears him chirping back and forth with some other ghost somewhere on the East Coast he feels his eye twitch. 

He dismisses it, however. No doubt it is one of Daniel’s little ghost allies helping him try to antagonize Vlad into showing up just to be rejected again.

Well, Vlad won’t fall for Daniel’s petty tricks. He would be Vlad’s son in time one way or another, no need to indulge the boy’s temporary sense of superiority.

It is grating when it wakes him up in the middle of the night, but he goes back to sleep quickly after.

Midday, he thinks he might have to track down Danny’s little friend for a nice long chat about Not Doing That. But that’s an issue for later.

Before “later” can arrive, Vlad finds himself taken into “temporary custody” while the police search his house.

He goes peacefully, assured that they’ll find nothing amiss, all of his ecto materials tucked neatly away in a lab that is inaccessible any way other than phasing. And wrapped in lead just in case.

He does not notice that a member of the Justice League is involved, nor would he care, certain that none could find his lab. And utterly unaware of the JLD’s existence.

Not that the JLD is needed in this case.

Despite his best efforts to change every copy of the construction crews’ blueprints both digital and physical in order to eliminate knowledge of the inaccessible room, there’s no accounting for memory.

Officer Roger worked in construction before joining the force, and it was only less than a half a year ago that Masters’ Amity home was constructed. Officer Roger still remembers the doorless, windowless box they built alongside the small mansion itself. It’s nowhere to be found on the property, so he brings it up with his superior.

Orphan questions it - nearly giving the whole team heart-attacks in the process - but a simple “I used to work in construction” seems to be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

A two hour sweep with some metal detectors finds nothing.

Then Orphan reappears from the shadows, providing another jumpscare, before pressing a hand silently to the side of her head.

The crew watches in silence as well, giving their pulses a chance to slow.

A ten-count later Orphan’s hand drops, and she strides confidently to the rear-left corner of the mansion and points at the ground.

“200 feet beneath the foundation,” she says before disappearing back into the shadows.

The crew shares a look and gets to work.

The time it takes to dig up the cube is just more time spent in a cell for Vlad, where he waits patiently, assured he’ll be released soon enough.

The lab itself would be only a minor problem - there would be fines and inspections and a heavy watch until everything was brought up to code. Questions about how he accessed it would be a larger problem.

But worst of all, in the comfort of his lab? He’s not much for hiding away incriminating documents. 

Of which there are many, given his propensity for keeping extensive records of his experiments, which include unethical cloning and what sums up to human experimentation. 

Once they find the actual facilities for the experiments in his Wisconsin home? It will all be over for him.

Being a ghost he could, of course, simply flee the cell and start anew somewhere else, with a new identity or even in a new dimension altogether - so long as he could nab Maddie and her children to bring with him.

But within his labs, he also keeps extensive records of himself.

A copy of the Plasmius Maximus.

Other ghost- and halfa-capturing restraints.

When he hears steps approaching his cell 2 days into his stay when it is clearly not a mealtime, he thinks “finally” assured that he is about to be released.

He only registers that it is Batman after he’s been hit by the Plasmius Maximus - cut off from his powers for at least the next two hours.

He has no chance to complain, as he is subsequently tranqued unconscious to be taken to a more secure location.

***

It’s an hour and half after school let out when the cops - who had taken to trying to distract Jazz and Danny with cards games and work stories while they waited - step away to answer their radios. 

When they return, they tell them that it’s “time to go.”

The siblings share a look, then shrug.

It wouldn’t be the first time the cops had to drive them home - rare though it was, there were at least 4 such occasions in their memories. It wasn’t a big deal.

They were less than enthused when the cops explained that they’d be heading to take them to the station instead of to home. Still, they chalked it up to the whole “questions about the Red Hood” thing and moved on. 

At least it meant they could dodge a home visit like Danny had wanted.

Except when they get there, they are taken to a cushy room and introduced to their social worker, a woman with a kind smile and a soothing voice who introduces herself as Bethany Scott, sits them down and explains, very gently, that their parents are currently under investigation.

To her credit, she isn’t condescending. She doesn’t try to hide away the truth; when they ask why, she tells them.

It’s a surprisingly long list of charges. Of everything on it, the violation of the meta protection acts comes as the biggest surprise.

Their parents were obsessive about ghosts, but they were also good at it. They never attack anything that doesn’t have ectoplasm.

Well, barring a few misfires.

Another surprise comes then: the Anti-Ecto Acts don’t exist. Ghosts are covered by the MPA by design, the AEA would never have gotten off of the ground in any legal capacity. It is solely a creation of the GIW, an extreme “‘real’ humans only” supremacist group that had worked at every level to pull the wool over the eyes of the small town’s citizenry so thoroughly that they’d been thought a real government agency - the imitation of which would be just one of the many charges that every member they managed to capture would be facing.

Then Mrs Scott starts talking about placement options.

Their Aunt, they are told, is not an option. 

It comes as a surprise to Danny. On quiet nights, when no ghosts showed up to interrupt him and Sam and Tucker weren’t up to distract him with a game of Doomed, his mind would sometimes wander back to that darkest of timelines.

He’d wondered how Vlad had ended up with custody. Being his godfather made him an option, but Danny would’ve wanted to go with Alicia. Will be damned, Danny would’ve plead on both knees with the judge to go with his aunt. Grieving or not, he’d have wanted as much distance between him and Vlad as possible,

He’d assumed Vlad must have done something to her or paid off the judge to rule in his favor.

To find out it was because she simply wouldn’t take him?

A part of him understands. He doesn't - Aunt Alicia is a kind person, yes, but not particularly loving or caring. When his parents brought up the subject of children with her on one of their rare visits, she described herself as having “less motherly instinct than a starving axolotl.”

Not an encouraging description after he read a book on axolotls for context. 

With their options being “Aunt in a small wood cabin in the middle of nowhere with the emotional sensitivity of a bull in a china shop” and “Rich friend of the family who would enable them to stay in contact with their friends and could hire them therapists even if he’s personally useless for helping them through the grieving process” she probably also figured marking herself down as a solid non-option would just expedite them getting the help they need (because she does care, even if she herself can’t - won’t - be there for them in that way).

He doesn’t hate her, but the knowledge burns. To know that there really was no avoiding Vlad - in that horrible future and in the now - makes him sick to his stomach.

Except-

Except before he can spiral, Mrs Scott tells them that Vlad is also not an option. Because he’s also under investigation.

A hysterical giggle bursts past his lips before he can think to stop it.

“Why?” he asks, ignoring Jazz’ disapproving grimace.

It’s less funny when they’re told that he’s under investigation under suspicion of mostly the same violations as their parents - including MPA violation, given the whole “million dollar ghost” incident and related propaganda. As the mayor especially, he should’ve known the AEA weren’t real and that the GIW were frauds and it was his responsibility to do something about them.

Depending on how he’d interacted with the group, he might be looking at aiding and abetting treason - or just outright treason - charges.

“If Aunt Alicia and Vlad both aren’t able to take us, then where are we going to go?” Jazz asks, shoving her emotions aside to deal with the matter at hand.

“Ordinarily, we would call up a few local fosters and see if one could take you in for a few days while we look into more long-term options. Worst case scenario you would have to spend a night or two in a hotel suite connected to mine while I found someone,” she answers. “But the two of you are in luck; Batman is the one who brought the case to our attention - apparently some erratic behavior from Red Hood brought them here, don’t ask, I don’t have all the details - and offered to run your parents’ DNA to check for other relatives that could take you. There was a match.”

The siblings share another look.

Both grandparents on their mother’s side had been only children and both were dead. Aunt Alicia had already said no and had no children of her own. Their father had been disowned by his family, and even if their other Aunts and Uncles would have been willing to take them in it didn’t matter, because all 5 had died in various accidents on their “hunts.”

“Apparently your uncle, Jerry Fenton, had a fling before he passed with one Ms Sheila Haywood. Their son, Jason, was thought to be the son of Willis Todd and Mrs Haywood until the DNA test today. He was raised by Willis and Mrs Catherine Todd until his subsequent adoption by Mr Bruce Wayne, and is currently living in Gotham.”

And it sounds wrong - the only thing most Fentons could love was mystery and danger - thus why only one out of six had survived. But they don’t know enough to dispute it.

Also. The involvement of another billionaire is setting off alarm bells. On the one hand: this could be a fruitloop paying someone off in order to forcibly adopt them. On the other hand, maybe Jason Todd really was a Fenton and being adopted by fruitloops was some kind of curse on the current generation.

“We contacted Mr. Todd the moment the connection was made. He has expressed an interest in taking you in, and flew out immediately to come and meet you. He arrived not five minutes ago.”

She paused and gave them a sympathetic look. 

“I understand that this is all a lot to take in. Please know that placing you with Mr. Todd is not the end of my duties; even after he takes you, I will be following you to Gotham. I’ll be looking into counselors for the both of you, and we’ll have a follow up on that topic in a maximum of a week’s time. I’ll also be doing regular home checks to ensure you’re both settling in well and that you’re being taken good care of. 

Even with what little I’ve gleaned, it is obvious that the environment you both grew up in until now was neither a safe nor a healthy one. It is my job to ensure that doesn’t happen again. If you have any concerns about your placement home now or in the future, please do not hesitate to bring them up with me. If you worry something is not “important” enough to mention, rest assured that if it bothers you in the slightest, then it’s important to me.”

She gives them each a long look.

Then she brings in Jason.

[cymae-mesa]

you trigger my unskippable cutscene

Guys Divorcesteal is really good in a way that's destroying my sleep schedule!

Divorcesteal is a Minecraft SMP made by fans of the Lifesteal SMP (including a couple of my friends) with similar mechanics and more gay divorce.

On the server killing another player takes a heart from their healthbar and gives it to you. Which means you can only lose so many fights in a row before you're on zero and get banned. So you need to spend a bunch of resources either crafting new hearts or reviving dead players.

But unlike Lifesteal these aren't some of the best and sweatiest Minecraft PvPers in the world, they're… tumblr fandom dweebs. Which means there are fun fights, but mostly there's psychosexual torment, angst, and queerbaiting. Roleplay is king with everyone playing at least a heightened version of themselves, and so falling in love getting married and having an angry divorce is often a more significant kind of plotline than the combat.

But the really fun things from a viewer pov is the roleplay is just as competitive as the combat. Characters in the story keep secrets to advance their agendas, which means the players keep secrets from the other players. Because many people livestream their perspective or record it for youtube this means strict no stream-sniping rules. Players can't watch streams/videos marked :3 without permission and fans are told not to leak what they see.

Which is great!!! Because it means i get to talk to my good friend Will and say I'm so excited to see the next stream! And tell everyone else that I'm excited because :3 I know that next stream the person she trusts most on the server is going to murder her, which Will doesn't know!

^ Actually happened on Tuesday it was fucked up and beautiful!

The macro scale plot atm is the season ends in 2 weeks and various teams are firing off their endgame plans. Pathogen are building monumental architecture for obscure and sinister purposes. 1000 Suns formed with the plan of escaping to the End dimension and blocking access to it using advanced chunk banning tech so they could be safe. Pathogen found out by misc sneaky shit and they moved first. So now the server has no End portals at all and the whole dimension is inaccessible.

I'm currently fixated on Will's smaller team/polycule called Elysium, with Angel and ChipsEclipse. Will had secretly planned to join 1000 Suns in the End, but due to a combination of irl timing issues and personal (in character) beef it wasn't clear if Chips would be welcome. The plan became impossible due to not having an End to run away to, at which point Chips found out, felt hurt and abandoned, and decided to betray the team by joining pathogen and killing Will and Angel. Hence the :3 situation on Tuesday.

But of course being fucked up tumblr/ao3 kids everyone has decided to yes-and this situation to produce even more heartbreak and angst. Especially from the pov of Angel who wasn't involved in the murdering but was in the polycule and remains in love with both of them!

If you want to join me in experiencing this the tumblr tag is pretty active. There's lots of streams on these acounts:

https://www.twitch.tv/sundialseraph

https://www.twitch.tv/chipseclipse

https://www.twitch.tv/bettyisbaffled

https://www.twitch.tv/arceoptryx

https://www.twitch.tv/ravathedemondragon

https://www.twitch.tv/marshmarrowed

https://www.twitch.tv/leoonine

https://www.twitch.tv/gaysetokaiba

https://twitch.tv/vacillantvoid

But there's vods channels and other stuff I'm forgetting.

[sehunniepotwrites]

FOREVER SUMMER | teaser

SYNOPSIS. They say that three is the magic number, and with you having two childhood friends by your side every summer, you consider this to be true. Summers were always for no one else but you, Johnny, and Jaehyun. You want that to stay the same but of course, nothing ever does. Not when feelings come into play. You’re in love with Johnny, Jaehyun’s in love with you, and quite frankly, you don’t really know how to move forward. So much for the summer of your life. 

PAIRING. Johnny x female!reader x Jaehyun 

GENRE. Childhood Friends to Lovers!AU | Summer!AU | Beach!AU | Lifeguard!AU | Surfer!AU 

WARNINGS. Based on Jenny Han’s The Summer I Turned Pretty, Johnny and Jaehyun are cousins, profanity, alcohol consumption, food consumption, smoking (vaping and weed), nicknames (for her: Shadow, Munchkin; for Jaehyun: Dopey; for Johnny: Jojo), more warnings to come

DISCLAIMER.This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters and concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work. Crossposted on AO3 by sehunnypot.

“Mom, drive faster!” you yelled from the passenger seat, wondering why you didn’t volunteer to take the wheel instead. With you at the wheel, you would’ve arrived at your destination hours ago. If this was a normal day, your mother would have scolded you for raising your voice at her but this was not any given day. This was the start of your epic summer in Neiho. 

Being in the town of  Neiho for two and a half months meant living in a gorgeous beach house that was a block away from the shoreline. A large two-story structure with six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a pool to swim in, and a backyard large enough to run around in–what could be more perfect than that?

The answer to that question was found in the other inhabitants of the mansion. Your twin aunties–not your blood relatives but your mother’s best friends from university–were the co-owners of the house, passed onto them by their parents. When your mom had nowhere to go one college summer, the twins picked her right up and invited her into their summer abode, and a yearly tradition had been formed. Fall, winter, and spring breaks were for other things but summer was always reserved for the beach house on Neiho’s Cherry Lane. 

Even though the three friends who were as close as sisters started their own respective families, the tradition carried on with the expansion. And that’s where the two most important inhabitants come to play–Johnny Suh and Jaehyun Jeong. The boys, as you called them, were cousins who were like brothers to each other. And to you, they were your best childhood friends. 

Being the same age as you, you were closer to Jaehyun–the pretty boy with the dimples and the deepest, dad laugh you could ever hear. Although apart for the majority of the year, Jaehyun never failed to text you at least once a day, whether it be a meme or just a random message that could be deemed as “too much information.” You shared a lot with him and in turn, he did the same with you. To you, that lunkhead basketball man was an open book. 

His older cousin, however, was not. Unlike Jaehyun, Johnny kept some pages closed. There were times when he was inaccessible and neither you nor Jae could read him. If something were bothering him, Johnny would keep it to himself rather than burden you or Jaehyun with his problems. As the oldest, his duty was to shoulder it, shove them aside, and make sure whatever happened didn’t affect you or Jaehyun in any way possible. His pouty lips would press into a thin line, his straight brows would furrow, and his eyes would narrow until you couldn’t see the beautiful honey-brown people would die to swim in. Other times, though, he was like sunshine and his wide smile brightened your days as no one else could. 

“Sit your butt down, child, we’re almost there,” your mother laughed, playfully shoving your shoulder so your butt fell back into the cushioned seat. Her hands turned the wheel and the tires landed on Cherry Lane. She passed one, two, three houses before pulling into the driveway. Before she could put the car into park, your fingers flew to the seat belt latch, ultimately freeing your body from your chair. Never mind that you were leaving your mom to deal with your bags. 

With enthusiasm that was seen nowhere else but here in Neiho, you rushed out of the car and down the nostalgic pathway filled with memories that lingered in your mind. You spotted the garden rocks you painted how many summers before as well as the wind catchers that you created with the boys during an arts class they were so reluctant to take. Holding back a smile at all the familiarity, you shoved the keys already in your hand eagerly into the lock. A twist to the side and your hand on the knob was all it took to open the grand, wooden door. A sigh that came from way deep in your chest let itself out as the cooling air conditioner and the smell of the sea salt vanilla candles blew your way.

With one hand against the clean, white walls, you used the other to slip your shoes off. “Anyone home?” 

Home. That was what the beach house on Cherry Lane was. It was home. 

Loud, resounding pounds from the staircase alerted you that someone was there and you knew exactly who that person was before they made it down the steps and rounded the corner. Always heavy-handed in the way he handled his body, Jaehyun Jeong stomped his way to you, his gait echoing through the quiet hallways. His smile was wide as soon as you landed in his line of vision. The next thing you knew, his body was hurling your way and you had no time to escape what came next. 

“Munch! You’re here!” he yelled into your ear right before lifting and twirling you around. Jaehyun’s voice sounded deeper than the last time you saw him in person. Your surprised squeal drowned out his low-toned laughter and your feet kicked against the hard core he worked on in the last year. 

“Put her down, Jae, before you break something,” his mom, Jieun, called from the steps, a fond smile taking over her face. Her features matched the ones on Jaehyun’s goofy face sans the reddened ears and cheeks. 

Her sister and Johnny’s mom, Hyesoo, peeked out of the kitchen to add to the scolding. “Jae, if you break something, you’re gonna have to replace it with your own money, honey, so be careful!”

“Listen to them!” you whined as his hands continued to dig at your side. “You’re hurting me!” 

He adjusted his grip. “Yo, how’s the weather up there, Munchkin? Better than down here, I hope,” Jaehyun teased with a cheeky smile. 

“Shut up, Dopey!” You kicked him in the abdomen harder than the last and his stronghold loosened just enough for you to wiggle away. 

As you caught your breath from laughing too hard, you took in your best friend’s appearance. Jaehyun’s wetsuit was half on–the top half folded right at the waist–while his buffer chest was slightly covered by the heathered tank top he probably threw on in a rush. Honey brown hair unstyled and strands thrown every which way, he still looked like the same boy you remembered. Just a tad bit taller and bigger than before. And to top it all off, his dopey smile had you mirroring one too.

You bet that the girls in his major department went crazy over him. You’ve heard some of his stories through your weekly FaceTime calls–from his short-termed girlfriends and situationships and friends with benefits–but none of those ever lasted. Curiosity bit at you, wondering why they never did, but you respected Jaehyun enough not to pry. If he wanted to, he would tell you. 

“Hey there,” Jaehyun chuckled again, his large hand coming up to your chin to squish your cheeks in between his fingers.

You stuck your tongue out and blew a raspberry at him, spit landing on the back of his hand. Jaehyun gave you a look of disgust, wiping the wet spots against your shirt. You’d think at twenty-one, the pair of you would outgrow childish habits but that wasn’t necessarily the case. 

“Just say you’re happy to see me, damn.”

“Never going to willingly admit that,” you retaliated with a shit-eating grin.

Jaehyun’s hands zoomed back to your face to pull at your cheeks. His tough grip tugged them so hard that it stung a lot more than it should have. Your consecutive slaps against his chest finally got him to stop and while you rubbed your cheeks better, he stifled his laughter behind his palm. 

“You might not be happy to see me but I am always happy to see you, Munch,” Jaehyun pressed a wet kiss on your throbbing cheek in return.  You were too busy tending to your pain to realize the redness that took over the tips of his ears. His mother and aunt were not. Giggling at each other, they enjoyed the boy’s embarrassed state, loving the fact that you were the only one to get him that pink.

“You’re something else, Jae,” you shook your head at him before rushing over to your aunties to hug them. You missed them both. 

“Baby, don’t just stand there,” Aunt Jieun scolded her son, coming over to slap him against his bicep, “go use those muscles that you keep bragging about and help your auntie carry their stuff into the house.” The boy, dorky as ever, saluted his mother and ran out the door in his broken-in Rainbow sandals. 

“Where’s Johnny?” you questioned. A glance around the house and you couldn’t see him anywhere. It was unlike him to not greet you as soon as you entered the property. Your heart dropped a little at his lack of presence. 

“Oh honey, your one-track mind never changes, does it?” Aunt Hyesoo grinned at you with a knowing twinkle in her eye. You pouted at her and she simply poked you in between your curled-up brows. “John’s out surfing. We told him to wait until after you arrived but he promised he would be back before your pretty little face showed up. Knowing him, that boy probably lost track of time.”

The front door swung open and slammed against the wall only to reveal a sheepish Jaehyun. Once again, the boy underestimated his strength. If one were to look at the wall behind the door, they’d spot a dent in the wall from all the rough handling but that’s a thing everyone in the house let go of. Holding the door open, Jaehyun allowed your mom to roll her luggage in first before hauling your load in. As the three mothers reunited, Jae nudged his sharp elbow to your side. “I was about to go join Johnny for a bit, wanna come wi–”

“Yes, let’s go, let’s goooooo!” Not even letting your best friend finish his sentence, you snatched the keys to his mother’s Rav4 and headed out the door. “We’re heading out!” You called behind you before barreling out the door with your tote bag in hand.

Jaehyun trailed right behind you with his deep laughter ringing through your ears. When you didn’t toss him the keys and remained at your spot on the driver’s side, he hesitated to get in the unlocked vehicle. His lack of movement made you roll your eyes. You had gotten your license last fall at the age of twenty so driving was no problem for you. At least, it wasn’t anymore. If you went back to the previous summer with you at the wheel, Johnny at your side, and Jaehyun behind you, you would probably say otherwise. But that was then. You were twenty-one now and had almost a year of driving experience under your belt.

“Get in the car, my driving’s better now, I promise.” The engine started at the twist of your hand and Jaehyun remained outside with a hardened look on his face.

“Sure it is, Munch,” he replied with a brow raised. 

“It really is, how else would I be able to get my license?” A few bats of your lashes and a pretty pout were all it took for Jaehyun to cave in and buckle himself in the car. He could never say no to you. Johnny was a little harder to break–he was a tough cookie to crack–but in the end, little old you were always his weakness. 

A defeated sigh escaped Jaehyun’s pink lips. “You’re lucky I love you so much.” 

Jaehyun’s little profession of love made you warm inside, just like your never ending friendship. “The luckiest girl in the world.”

“And the prettiest,” Jaehyun joked, swiping at your cheek.

“Ew, is that how you flirt with all the girls back home?”

“Why? Is it working?” From the corner of your eye, you could see his brows dance. “Are you finally falling for me? It’s about damn time.” 

“Absolutely not. Disgusting.” 

“Damn, and to think, I could have finally had a chance with the prettiest girl in Neiho.”

“Oh shut up.”

The beach was a two-minute drive away. If it weren’t for Jaehyun’s surfboard mounted on top of the car, you would have been fine with the seven-minute walk or the short bike ride to your perfect little paradise. The midday crowd had made its way into the beach’s car lot, leaving a tiny compact space for you to wiggle into. Your first few tries weren’t successful, even with Jaehyun’s guidance, leaving him to laugh at your attempts before you switched places. Johnny would have never teased you like that. 

Jaehyun parked the car slowly yet successfully as you waited outside with crossed arms. He shot you a smug look, complete with his sunglasses sitting on top of his nose bridge and a smirk that lifted one plump cheek. 

“Don’t say anything,” you pointed a finger at him. “I have trouble in compact spaces.” 

“Wasn’t gonna,” Jaehyun cheekily answered as he started to take his baby blue board down the rack.

Huffing, you turned your body away from your best friend and faced the shoreline. One breath was all it took to inhale the calming scents of the ocean. The sun beamed down on you; while others hated the direct light, you didn’t mind it. Accompanied by the soft breeze making its way through your loose hair, it was a perfect beach day. Your past self was right to wear your two-piece under your clothes instead of your undergarments. 

Leaving Jaehyun behind, you stripped your loose top off, slipped off your Birkenstocks, and sunk your toes in the sand. The gritty, warm feeling surrounding your skin was something you missed dearly. Others hated the texture of sand–how it was coarse and hot, and how it got absolutely everywhere for no apparent reason–but it excited you. Feet running on autopilot, they led you straight to where the ocean met the shore. Dry sand turned wet, causing you to sink, sink, sink deep into the ground and you loved it all. When the cool rush of water hit your skin, you loved it even more. You closed your eyes and sighed, taking in the sounds of the waves hitting the rocks. 

You opened them just in time to see a tall, built surfer riding a clean wave with no breaks. He made the sport look effortless when you know that in fact, it was not. At all. When the figure reached the shore not too far from you, the man planted his surfboard right in the sand. His height was not too far off from the item itself, which was a feature many onlookers admired. 

After reaching down to catch some water in between his fingers, he ran that same hand through his thick dark brown hair, pushing his wet bangs out of his way. Your mouth began to split into two at the sight of him. Even without seeing his entire face, you knew that sharp jawline and stature anywhere. You saw it every summer, towering over you in a protective stance. The hands running through his hair used to hold yours whenever you had your scary movie marathons and the sculpted arms attached to them used to press you tightly against his chest whenever you needed comfort. 

There were so many times your thoughts drifted from the topic at hand to that face and build. Dreams. Daydreams. Little scenarios in your head that fed the monster called delusion. 

With tunnel vision for that man alone, your feet took you straight to him and your voice called out his name. “Johnny Suh!” 

Johnny’s hands immediately reached behind him as you catapulted yourself onto the broadest back you had ever seen in your life. Your arms circled his neck and your bare legs coiled around his waist as he held you in place with no complaints. Your dry body pressed against the cold, damp wetsuit but you didn’t care. You were with Johnny now. 

To you, the older of the boys wore many hats. He was your long-time friend. Your protector. Your crush. Your mom, as teasing as she gets, also referred to him as your first love. Your aunties rallied behind her with that and you always found it embarrassing. But loyal as they were, your secret never slipped past their lips. It was one for the girls, they would always say. You weren’t sure if Jaehyun caught on at some point–if he did, he never uttered a word. 

Johnny turns his neck to glance at you. His eyes took notice of the sparkle in your eye and the bright light of your smile and it brought that charming grin out to play. “Aren’t your clothes going to get wet?” he chafed, tugging on the thin fabric of your loose linen shorts. 

“Don’t care,” you replied, tilting your head to meet his gaze. His smile widened as you did so, the whiskers by his nose appearing out of nowhere. “Saying hi to you is more important than my clothes, Jojo.”

“Well then, hi.” The way Johnny said that two-letter word had your heart racing. It was soft and sweet and endearing. It was everything Johnny was. And it was beautiful. 

“Hi.”

He tapped two fingers on your thigh. “You ready to get down yet?”

“Nope.”

Johnny chuckled again and with your chest pressed tightly against his back, you felt the vibrations it caused. “Looks like my little Shadow finally came back to me.”

Shadow–that was what he called you. 

It all started when your moms noticed that you were so infatuated with the older boy that you stuck so close to him, following his every movement. When he would stand, so would you. And in turn, Jaehyun did too. When Johnny would want ice cream, you would copy him and state that you craved some too. And when he joined a volleyball camp at the country club, you tried to join too, only to be turned down because you were a girl. It upset you to no end at the young age of nine, that Jaehyun could follow the twelve-year-old Johnny but you couldn’t. To get rid of your sorrow, Johnny–although tired–played with you at home and taught you every little skill he learned that day. Your hobby only developed from there. 

“Looks like it,” you giggled. 

No matter how far you were or how much time had passed, you would forever remain as Johnny’s shadow. Just like Peter Pan’s shadow always found its way back to the leader of the Lost Boys, you would always find your way back to Johnny.

Your little moment was interrupted by the one and only Jaehyun, who has his surfboard lifted above his head. So into being within proximity to Johnny, you failed to notice the tiny drop of Jaehyun’s happy demeanor. “Dude, you done for the day or?” Jaehyun asked his older cousin, gesturing to the waves. 

Johnny turned to him with you still hanging like a koala on his back, happy that you are reunited with your two boys. “Nah, I was thinking about catching a few more before heading back. Tide’s pretty good today.” 

“Sweet,” Jaehyun grinned, his tiny little fangs peeking out as his mouth widened. He pointed his chin to the clear, blue water. “Let’s go?” 

Johnny tapped your thigh again and released your legs from his hold. “You okay with that, Shadow?” 

You nodded, patting your purse. “I got my audiobook, I’ll be fine.”

“You didn’t want to surf today?”

You tried your best to fight the warm flush taking over your body. “No, I was…too excited to see you, I guess. Didn’t want to change or grab my board.”

Johnny shot you a soft and tender smile. “You sure it wasn’t the beach calling your name? You always couldn’t wait to get down here.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, looking up at him. 

“Next time then,” Johnny reassured you. “Missed having you out there with me.”

Your heart stopped for a moment. How was he so good at that? Johnny was too good at making you feel like mush and he didn’t even know it. It was no surprise so many of the people you hung out with growing up had a crush on him. 

“Alright then, what are we waiting for?” Jaehyun shouted, raising his board high and running straight for the water. “First surf of the summer, let’s fucking goooooooo!” His loud voice faded out as he got deeper and deeper into the water. 

Johnny’s large hand quickly ruffled your hair and you swatted his grip away, grumbling as you did so. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either.” His overprotectiveness came into play. The warning was unnecessary, seeing how all the summer kids knew each other. It was like a big reunion every season, with parties and bonfires all around. Running into someone at the beach was far from surprising, in fact, it was expected. 

You waved him away, already busying yourself by setting up your spot a bit further from where the sand met the sea. Your AirPods were out and your phone’s camera app opened up, ready to take pictures of the beautiful scenery and your boys. “Stop worrying, I’ll be right here. Go.”

Johnny left, but not before giving you a little shove to the side of your head. You snapped multiple pictures of his back as he ran to his board with Jaehyun already riding a wave in the background. The sun was beginning to set, making the skyline the perfect backdrop for your pictures. Waiting for the next wave to hit, they sat on their boards. At one point, they shifted to wave at you, and being the person you were, you took more candids of them and sent it to the group chat with your parents. 

You slipped on your AirPods and continued onto a new chapter of the audiobook you started on your road trip here. The waves were loud enough to hear through your headset and the orange sun didn't blind you as much with Jaehyun’s sunglasses resting on your nose. This was the perfect way to spend your first day back at Neiho. 

With the amazing weather, the two best boys in the entire world, and the prettiest beach you have ever laid eyes on, this was going to be the best summer ever. It had to be. It was the summer before your last year of university. After graduation, your whole life could and would change. And you, as headstrong as you were, wanted this to be the perfect summer. 

The summer of all summers. 

The summer you would remember forever.

LIFEGUARD'S NOTICE BOARD. Hi y'all. This fic has been on the backburner for a while and I've slowly started to pick it back up again. This is only the first scene in the grande scheme of things that idk will ever be completed BUT it was too good to keep in the drafts! Tell me what you think: are you Team Johnny or Team Jaehyun?

TAGLIST. (tagging anyone who is on my gen taglist and people i talked to about this fic!) @johtenrecs @justalildumpling @bat-shark-repellant @bebsky @smileysuh @smileyerim @taelme @moonctzeny @lebrookestore @baekhyuns-lipchain @donutswithjaminthemiddle @ahcaratzen @espresseo-cafe @turtash @ravenjoongie @omlhyuck @cryingforjae

© sehunniepotwrites, 2023

[lame2882]

ENA: Fragment Ego (AU)

ENA returns to the bathroom to meet Theodora and learn more about her origins.

Small hint of ENAdora here because why have one yuri when you can have more?

Don't know what this au is? Here's the Masterpost!

Note: I know it might be that the Lonely Door-and Theodora by extension-is inaccessible after the events of Chapter One, but shhhh

Confession Booth

Word Count: 1702

Her legs wobbled like a fawn learning to walk for the first time. Her body ached and screamed in agony as she stumbled forward, falling onto the solid darkness below her feet. She clung to it like she hadn’t stood on solid ground in ages.

ENA looked back at the white river, nauseated from jumping across the flimsy rafts with a migraine pounding at her head. This damn bathroom had better be worth coming a second time.

She entered the bathroom, approaching the well as she had before. The hole in her abdomen ached. If she wasn’t so desperate for answers, there was no way she would’ve put herself through all of this again. Froggy and Coral Glasses even advised her against it. However, ENA just couldn’t shake the feeling that she had to come back. After meeting Theodora for the first time… something felt off. Maybe it was the brief moment of having her sins lifted off her shoulders before being slammed down with them again, but it was like she caught a glimpse of a past life. A life where she was different.

Of course, she had always lived with the knowledge of being a fragment of a former genie. The memories haunted her. But she didn’t know much beyond that. Her view of the past life was just a peep through a keyhole, one that gave her nightmares and panic attacks.

Meeting with Theodora… well, she wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but she hoped she could find some remedy for the pain. Maybe a hope that she wasn’t an all-horrible genie before shattering.

She stepped a foot up on the edge of the well, the hands of her orange, glowing spirit grabbing onto the rope and beginning to pull the genie back up as she had before.

The statuesque genie was hanging on the end of the rope just like before.

“[Congratulations on reaching the bathroom. It is I, Theodora, genie of these lands— wait.]” Theodora looked over ENA’s familiar face, this time not healing ENA of her gaping wound and returning her to normal before realizing who she was. “[You again? I already gave you what you wanted, ENA. It doesn’t matter how many times you come here, you are simply unforgivable.]”

ENA spoke from the astral projection that protruded from her abdomen, “I am not here for forgiveness, nor am I here for- business matters,” she struggled to get her words out through her pain, “I want answers.”

It was weird how easily it was to get out what she wanted to say. No business metaphors, no beating around the bush with her words; just saying what was on her mind. Her language was just as raw and bare as her body was in this place.

Theodora raised a brow at her, “[You seem different than many of your counterparts. I’m surprised I didn’t see that before. But what answers were you looking for? I’ll see if they’re worth answering, I suppose that’s the least I can do for you after reaching this place… twice.]”

“You… know me. Don’t you?”

Theodora paused, noticing how much ENA struggled to speak with her wounds. “[Perhaps this would be easier if I restored your body-]”

“No!” ENA shook her head, “No. This is the most- straightforward line of thinking I’ve had. Return me to normal and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to— speak with you properly… in the way I need to.” She coughed, “now, tell me. You know me, don’t you? And not in the- in the way everyone else does with their immediate distrust of my kind. You know me… ENA…personally.”

Theodora watched and listened to ENA with a somber expression. It was almost like seeing the dual-toned woman so misshapen was painful for her. Then it was like a switch was flipped, eyes widening as she realized the full picture of who ENA, at least this ENA, was. “[You… remember?]”

ENA looked at her with tired eyes, pinching the bridge of her spirit nose, “Much to my dismay…” she groaned, “I don’t have a lot of the memories from the old genie, I don’t even remember the name. It’s all just… bullets and- and bloodshed. That’s why I’m looking for the bigger story. I couldn’t have been… that bad, could I?”

Theodora frowned, “[Ah, so it seems like you’re overtly aware of why you can’t be trusted.]”

ENA groaned, “I guess that’s one way to put it, yes.”

“[I have yet to meet another of your kind that is aware of where she comes from. This is a curious development.]”

“I definitely haven’t found anyone to commiserate with.” ENA groaned, “but you still haven’t answered my question.”

Theodora sighed and finally answered, “[We were friends once. Well, the genie you come from and I.]”

ENA looked up at Theodora, noticing how the genie was looking off in the distance. Recalling a time long gone. She then looked back at ENA, “[I must say, of all the ENAs I’ve met, you remind me of her the most. Maybe it’s because of the memories you hold, but you look so much like her. Especially like this.]” Theodora gestured to ENA’s raw, hungover state, “[I mean, she took on a lot of different forms. She loved drastically changing her appearance every day. She settled on something that looks very similar to you, though. The short hair, triangular eyes and all that.]”

“You seem to have been very fond of her,” ENA murmured.

“[She was my closest friend. Though, to this day I have no idea why she did what she did.]” Theodora sighed in her sing-song voice.

“What did she do anyway? I know the aftermath but not what actually happened,” ENA asked with a somberness in her voice, her hands growing shaky as memories resurfaced again.

"[She started a war, not much else to it,]" Theodora seemed to shrug, in her little clay doll way, "[She never explained herself. Not her reasoning, not what she intended to accomplish, nothing. She just started a war with the other genies, split herself up to make her soldiers, and in doing so, she destroyed herself and her door along with it.]"

"Split herself up?"

Theodora nodded, "[That's when your kind began to pop up. Judging by what you recall, I imagine you might be the remains of one of her soldier vessels, which would explain why you remember more than most.]"

ENA sat in silence for a few moments, sitting down on the cold bathroom floor to take everything in. She clasped her hands together and stared at the ground. Both the orange and the dull, exhausted ones. A pale hand came up to ENA's face, rubbing her tired eyes. "What was her name?"

"[ENAMI,]" Theodora answered simply, "[Hence your kind being named ENA. Just a part of her name, just like you are just a part of her.]"

"I see." ENA gave a small nod, feeling sick from the new knowledge. She nearly puked, putting her two sets of hands over her two sets of mouths.

Theodora looked over at the fragmented woman, "[I think that's enough of humoring your questions, sinner. You look unwell.]"

"Wait! I still have so much to-"

Before she could even finish her sentence, the bathroom around her went dark and she was suddenly in the palms of a large statue of a woman, Theodora reflecting from the eyes, "[Too late! I can no longer stand the stench of your sins and your face pains me. Take your nonsense and leave.]"

ENA's exhausted eyes looked down at her abdomen as the hole in it repaired itself as it had done before. She was wrapped up in a cocoon, though instead of briefly turning into an angel as she had the first time, it broke before her wings could sprout and she was just left standing there in awe and bewilderment as her red and pale yellow halves returned. Her thoughts became contradictory and nonsensical as they had always been, like an ocean wave crashing down on an island of molten cloud.

She just stood there frozen looking up at Theodora for a moment as she recollected herself, finally shaking herself out of the trance. "Run the sales pitch by me again?" ENA asked in her cheery salesperson tone, turning to Theodora once she turned back into her clay doll appearance, "Can I get a business card on my way out?"

Theodora shook her head, "[Don't return here again, ENA. I have nothing else to grant you. Door's over there. It will take you back to the casino.]" A door appeared on the other side of the bathroom.

"Very well. I can tell when my services aren't wanted," ENA agreed, tipping her hat to Theodora and heading over to the exit. She was just about to turn the handle and step through when she was suddenly back in the palm of Theodora's statuesque hands.

"[B-before you go, I uh-]" The large statue looked down at her, looking nervous. ENA almost went to reply but was interrupted when she felt the statue's lips against her face for a brief moment. Then she was back in front of the door and Theodora's clay doll was awkwardly sitting on the edge of the well refusing to make eye contact, "[Now get out.]"

ENA was stunned, staring abashedly at the genie while fumbling awkwardly for the door handle. She stepped into the casino and closed the door behind her just before her body turned to jelly and she collapsed.

Coral Glasses and Froggy were just across the way, chatting about work when ENA had suddenly emerged from the door that hadn't been there before. They both jumped when she suddenly collapsed and walked over to check on her. "[ENA? Stop lazing around!]" Froggy said, grabbing her hand and pulling her up to her feet, revealing the huge grin on her face. Froggy raised a brow, "[What are you so happy for?]"

ENA blinked, straightening herself out, "Oh I'm just having a wonderous day off work, that's all!"

Coral and Froggy glanced at each other before ENA pushed past the both of them.

"[...she hates taking days off work.]"

Yippee! Little genie backstory :D

I’m still struggling with the genie’s (ENAMI) full appearance but here’s a little doodle

I have so many thoughts and ideas for this au, I’m struggling to figure out what I should be posting about first.

You should like,, ask me stuff about the au in my inbox... that'd be cool

Edit: shoutout to @noodle-fandumb for their ENAdora comic that inspired the smooch scene! Their art is amazing so do check them out :D

[cripplecharacters]

I have a character in a wheelchair, in a school/society that isn't up to modern code and would not be very accessible to wheel around in. Her chair is on the cheap side (definitely not motorized), and is a little old fashioned/outdated. She can't stand unassisted or walk more than a few feet at a time due to pain and balance issues (I'm still working on exactly what her diagnosis should be. Maybe I'll send you an ask about that later if I can't figure it out on my own) Do you have any advice - in general, but particularly on how to portray her friends helping her get around without making her seem helpless or committing any other faux pas? So far I know:

1: They should never touch her actual chair or pick her up, and so

2: Their help is mostly going to be delegated to changing the environment, not her. Opening doors, walking ahead to find an alternate smoother path, etc. (What if she's somewhere where there is no way through? Is it alright to have her leave the chair and lean on them or something in an emergency? Or should I just avoid writing those situations, favoring perception at the cost of realism?)

They don't follow her around everywhere, they're her friends not her caretakers, so she does get around by herself often. Is there anything else I should think about or is this alright?

Hey!

Sometimes it can be okay for them to touch her mobility aid if she allows them to. The never-touch-a-mobility-aid advice is real but is mostly meant for strangers who think they're helping someone by kidnapping them. Many wheelchair users get around exclusively by someone else pushing their wheelchair, it's all about consent.

If she needs to get to a place where the only way in are stairs, she might ask her friends to lift her wheelchair up with her still in it. But the key is that it's her initiative, and she's the one calling the shots because it's a very vulnerable position to be in. You can check out wheelchair skills videos like this one. Being in this scenario is obviously not ideal, but this is what people simply have to do.

I'd also try to figure out if she can transfer (get out of wheelchair into X and vice versa) on her own or not - if she can get on the ground safely and then back up, she could potentially learn to go upstairs backwards on her butt and drag her wheelchair in one hand, step by step. If she can walk a bit, she can use her wheelchair as a crutch and hold the railing with the other; for walking she can do that by leaning against a wall or holding onto someone for support. But if another person is involved, consent and warnings are key: they can ask where they should grab her by, she can tell them to walk slower or stop, instruct them how to safely sit her back in her wheelchair before they start walking, all that. They shouldn't treat her like a ragdoll who can't speak the moment she needs physical help.

If it's a modern-ish society then she could ask her friends to call the place they're visiting to check how accessible it is. Calling and trying to get it out of people gets exhausting so the friends could learn to pre-call before making any meeting in a place. It's more just being considerate than anything else.

I wouldn't try to avoid realism; if the setting is inaccessible to wheelchair users then it should be shown, otherwise it should simply be accessible in the first place.

Realism of course will affect the "alternatives" when it comes to access. Every larger building has a back door to roll the garbage out, and in places where accessibility is uncommon to nonexistent, this will be the only ramp to the building. Behind-the-building dark alley garbage ramps are their whole entire thing. Same for finding smooth paths, in many places wheelchair users have to go on the road to be able to go anywhere and risk being hit by a car. My point is that these alternatives largely do exist, but they're not meant for disabled people even if there is no other alternative. Exploring this could also help with making your setting feel more real in general.

For many of the issues of "what about XYZ scenario?", if you were to put it in any search engine you will find mobility aid users trying to figure out the same thing or giving others advice because inaccessibility is still one of the biggest issues out here that we encounter every day. The extreme majority of the world is inaccessible, and we try to adapt as much as possible; unless your actual scenario involves magic or aliens then there's definitely some sort of solution for it that's probably on reddit already.

[Disclaimer: not all wheelchair users can get out of their wheelchair without specialized equipment like a hoist. I assume that this is not the case for this character considering she can walk a tiny bit, but please keep this fact in mind for more severely disabled characters.]

mod Sasza

[goneatlas]

i need a jirv gets turned into a vampire AU soooo bad. especially if it's canon setting. especially if it's just him alone who was turned, nobody else.

imagine (well i mean you don't have to imagine this part, it's just who he is even in canon). repressed jirving who is having ""impure thoughts"" about other men. listen it could be anyone take your pick but i'm going with nedward and hodgson here because i like my cringefail terror lieuts ot3 a lot. ofc he's praying to god for forgiveness for the way his mind wanders and he represses that shit all the way down (it doesn't work, obviously. because when has repressing things worked) anyways he's dealing with all that guilt of seeing himself as not beeing good enough in the eyes of god, that maybe he's just a sinner masquerading as a saint, preaching to others in hopes that in saving someone else he would redeem himself in the eyes of god. you know. the usual jirving fare.

and then on watch one night, he gets swiped at by a creature (a vampire) and he doesn't even know what happened because he was knocked out but dr macdonald remarked that it's strange how they found him lying in his own blood, and there's dried blood in his hair and on his clothes, but there were no sign of any injury on him, not a single scratch. he looks paler than usual but that was chalked up to the cold. he gets told to get warmed up and to report if anything changes or if he feels woozy or otherwise. he thinks it's strange but everything feels fine. (of course it's not fine)

later when he reaches for his bible, it burns and he drops it. he reaches to pick it back up but it burns him again. a horrible sinking feeling starts to set in. when he picks up the bible with his scarf, he opens it to read a passage and it makes him physically nauseous. the more he reads the more it feels like he's drowning. he closes the bible and tries to recite a passage from memory, but it's the same thing. the cross burns him too. he tries to pray to god but it tastes like ashes in his mouth.

whatever rations he eats comes back up. he tries to keep them down, he really does, he knows the scarcity of food—he tallies them for god's sake—but he can't. he feels hungry all the time, but nothing he eats stays down. there is a voice in his heading telling him that there's food all around him, he just needs to take it. the voice gets louder when he brushes against one of the crew, or when someone passes him by in the cramped space. he resolutely ignores the thought. his stomach hurts all the time now.

it's funny. but the thing that finally broke him was when he went to clip his hair and trim his beard and found that he has no reflection. he angles the mirror this way and that, nothing. he wipes the mirror clean again and again, nothing. (at this point the realization must've dawned, it should've dawned ages ago, but he won't acknowledge it. to acknowledge it will make it true. it will make it inescapable). at this point he realizes he will no longer be able to groom himself. all the rituals that he holds dear, the ones that make up the shining pillar that guides him in all this chaos and darkness, are now inaccessible to him. he blacks out and comes to behold the broken shards of his mirror, and he thinks he might be crying but his cheeks are dry. there are no tears for him to cry, his new self was not made for that.

sooner or later nedward and hodgson corners him in his cabin. they're concerned for him. as they try to get him to confess what's wrong, the ""impure thoughts"" come back full force. he's just thinking about how nice it would be to be embraced by them. to be held between them, sheltered from the world. to press his face to their shoulders. to turn his face towards their necks. sink in his teeth. taste their warmth on his tongue.

he feels the fangs grow in his mouth. he has to clap a hand on his mouth and turn away from his friends so they wouldn't see the monster he's become. because that's what he is now. he has been spurned by god, damned. he is dead, but he isn't in heaven (why is that a surprise? why does that hurt? he knows his deeds and his sins. he has judged and found himself wanting. maybe it was just that he hoped god would forgive him for all of it anyway). no, he is dead and yet he's forced to live out his life in this hell.

[ganondoodle]

i might have already talked about this but i honestly cant remember if i did or if its one of my totk thoughts that keep haunting me in my head (and god knows how id find it on tumblr)

.. did they ever say how long link was gone for? like at the start? bc to me it feels like it must have been months or something given how some things are .. although others are the opposite

like the spypost alone is so weird to me, its a goddamn stupid place to put it, a SPYpost should either be concealed or in a hard to reach place with good look of the environment around it- which it doesnt have at all (despite higher up hills being right around the corner ...), who would put a spy post directly on flat ground at the castle doors?? (AND in a place where i think would have been the ONLY good place to put nothing there/dont change it- or have it bee a secret entrance into the castle you can find on your own .. if the castle was actually like a dungeon and inaccessible for the most time ...) makes even less sense if it was built before link disappeared bc wh- .. whats its purpose anyway? the calamity is gone and instead of rebuilding castle town or soemthing nearby you put the words least sensical spypost right at the front of the castle thats a dead dirty lump of rock (yes i know zelda mentions soemthing of the miasma being active or whatever but that changes nothing abotu how little sense thing darn thing makes to me .. ) (i will stand by my idea of rebuilding the ranch ruins into a little hub and tavern instead, a spypost can be a smaller thing higher up but that as a little new town and maybe with my personal little wish of having all your horses run around a ranch, of course its got little defense, this is a ranch and the calamity was gone and its not that close to the castle, its also rather in the middle of the map and a bigger wider area would be hard to miss, plus its using an old neat reference and making something meaningful out of it, soemthing this game is allergic to im- *breathes in* fine.)

death mountain, i assumed at least, cooled down with the cataclysm (.. way too serious sounding for .. largely just some pebbles falling from the sky) and it seems like theres alot of stuff built on there and even grass growing and everything, like its been that way for a long time, yunobo being dumbified by brainwash mask and the things he does also dont feel like they happen in a day or two

the other regions on the other hand ... ignoring how mcuh of a non issue the rito problem is (the oooooh blizzard doesnt even stop them from flying ..... its not freezing them either bc none of them wear any more clothes and just do business as usual .. but then food is supposed to be a problem? .... you .. you can fly ..... ... why wasnt the boss then a monster that eats everything of the region or soemthing ... a big ol worm razing entire forest, or .. you know, make the blizzard an actual problem, winds so strong you cant fly, temperature so low you freeze immediately without special armor), are just .. dealing with it themselves? and dont seem to even seek out the help of anyone else? like it literally just happend?

but then theres entire sonau research teams and people studying it but .. all the shit started to appear with the cataclysm ... so???? though zelda at the start talks about it like its been a well known every day life fact that the acnient stupid furry first king of gods holy lands was called rauru and he was a sonau (WHICH NO ONE KNEW ANYTHIGN ABOUT THE LITERAL ONYL THING KNOWN WAS THE ARMOR SET IN BOTW THAT ALSO DOESNT MATCH ANYTHING AT ALL TOTK SONAU) and his fridge wife was sonia like its just written in every history book and still somehow accurate (might i remind you its been MORE than TEN THOUSAND YEARS sicne then and nothign was known of them in botw) while no one remembers link from a 100 years ago, nor from 6 years ago, but then remembered the champions for the 100 year botw gap and then promptly forgot about them in totk (it really feels like that) BUT THEN you got kids in school that dont fking believe the calamity happend (which was defeated just like 6 years before that)

then again .... theres not a single soul on the sky islands, despite there, NOW more than ever, multiple ways to get up there, are you telling me everyones obsessed with the stupid sonau shit and then no one even tries to go up there??? arguing that it wasnt accessible until noodle zelda broke through the clouds at the end of the tutorial doesnt work bc those ruins already fell down, people must have known and no one even tried?? also they can go up there after it go opened up?? plus clearly the ruins were able to fall through also ... what even determines whether an island falls down or not? why do some fall when tHe dEmON kInG wakes up? you see it with those green sonau magic stuff but like .... who ... did that, both rauru and mineru were dead when zelda noodlefied herself and there everything was STILL on the ground? the only magical thing the constructs do is use fuse sometimes i dont think they can lift up all that shit .. clearly is wasnt rauru either bc he acts surprised about it being up here, but why does it falter when big il ganon man wakes up? mineru after the weird static non battle with ganondorf wasnt doing so hot and we have no idea how much time passed between that and the moment she goes into the purah pad (i could be annoying about that as well) either

in taburasa (tarrey town) they do all that shit with the sonau stuff, implying theres enough time that passed to make people tinker with it too so ?(though i still hate that bc its so .. shouldnt you of all people be scared of more techy bs materializing when the whole calamity is like back almost exactly like it was before? not even suspicious? no? you dont even know how it works yet everyone trying to work with it like there isnt anythign better to do??)

like with everything in this game it keeps contradicting itself, the inconsistency makes me want to rip my hair out anytime i try to make sense of it

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #135

What if Danny was around during the Joker jr incident. I haven’t actually read the comics or anything but I have read a few fics that mention it so just bear with me for a moment.

Harley wanted twins and of course her boyfriend would deliver so both Tim and Danny are kidnapped. Danny was visiting Gotham with his family and unfortunately was hit with the Plasmius Maximus as Vlad was pulling one of his schemes. Danny wasn’t happy about his powers being inaccessible in a big dangerous city.

Of course something happens and Danny and someone else get kidnapped. He and someone named Tim get kidnapped by the Joker of all people. Neither of them have a good time.

So I just watched Joker last night and I just want to say to everyone to keep up with your mental health, that’s something I heavily have to do myself. I really appreciate all of the comments reblogs and likes I’ve gotten on my posts.

[venbetta]

Okay so everytime I play security breach, I always have to trigger some bits of Freddy's dialogue cuz I just love how he says things.

Example of this is in the beginning, it's very mundane, but when he's carrying Gregory in his hatch and you try to enter any of the other doors backstage and he says

I would love to do a tour, but this door is locked.

It's just cute because he's just.. "Aww, this kid is really curious about exploring. It's too bad we're on scrapped for time. Also, those areas are inaccessible." That's how I interpreted it.

Most of these are based on how I personally interpret, just letting you know before I go too deep with rambling. If you have any different interpretations, drop them, I'd love to see it.

Anyways, one of the dialogue bits that make me giggle every time I hear it is during the Prize Counter mission. Gregory accidentally sets off the alarm and is panicked by it. Of course, we enter the mini game, trying to keep Monty and Roxy out for 3 minutes.

Honestly, despite playing the game so many times, it's one of the few missions I kinda dread. It's just nerve-wracking less than scary. Especially if it's later in the run with one or both of the bots shattered and you can't save right away.

But what tops it is after you survive the 3 minutes, probably having few near death close calls and stressing (Gregory definitely was), Freddy simply says:

All done! See, that was not so bad!

And it's like... Freddy? What do you mean?? I almost fucking died. You weren't even there! He sounds so cheery about it.

You spent nearly 4 minutes fighting for your life, and you're met with Freddy's lackadaisical attitude. It kills me. Freddy, when I catch you-

Don't get me wrong, what Freddy did was helpful, even if he just turned off the alarm. And he's been helpful for most of the game... (for the most part, maybe conceptually)

And I feel that he only says that as a way to soften the blow of the situation, like he usually does when something goes wrong. Always trying to find the bright side.. like a true optimist. It's like when a kid is about to do something scary and the adult can't do much, letting the kid be independent, and simply watch (and step in if they have to).

Once the scary situation ends in either the kid succeeding or maybe injuring themselves, the adult then steps in either praising or comforting them. "See, it wasn't that bad. You did it!" Or "Oh, I'm sorry, you did your best. There's always next time/maybe I can help you."

While it's annoying that Freddy responds in a causal way (again, it makes me chuckle), it adds something to him that gives him that paternal role Gregory (or the player) needs. He deals with kids all the time, and I'm sure he probably tries his best to be hands-on. Praising them when they do something, whether its minimal, like retrieving an item, or huge like winning a game and whatnot.

There's countless times Freddy graces Gregory with praise, no matter how treacherous or simple the task is. And that's adorable.

Of course, I'm still beating his ass though (affeftionate), cuz what do you mean you can't come save me 85% of the time? What else are you doing when you're not around me?

I love this dumb bear, but so help me-

[condensed-ink]

I've been thinking a lot about #FixTF2 and I know that some might have their doubts about the movement, however, I've realized that, even if it does not succeed in getting Valve's attention, it will end up contributing towards an important development in recent years - the shift in the public perception of Valve.

If you are person who was growing up in the early 2010's then you obviously remember how Valve games were essentially the cultural zeitgeist of the time, how you would see pictures of King Gaben on every meme/YouTube thumbnail during a Steam Summer Sale. As I understand it, Valve essentially rode this wave of good will throughout the 2010's. Even when everyone was getting frustrated with the lack of sequels for games such as HL2 and L4D2, some people would just excuse it with "ah y'know Valve, not communicating and not doing anything is just their style, this is just probably part of Gaben's 5D chess - tier master plan". However, the cracks in this image have been slowly showing up for a long time:

Portal fans haven't had anything since Portal 2's release back in 2011. We have had some small VR titles but that's hardly any consolation.

Left for Dead 2 came out all the way back in 2009 with nothing afterwards. As of June of 2024, the game still has more than 10 thousand concurrent players yet it is also unplayable for a significant amount of people due to reported DDos attacks.

The suffering of Half - life fans at this point is a meme in itself. The only thing we got was HL:Alyx back in 2020 and, even though it's a very good game, it was inaccessible to a lot of people at launch due the costs and lack of VR hardware. We were left on a cliff-hanger AGAIN and four years later we have no news of any follow-up.

In my opinion, Valve to some extent could ignore these fandoms since they were smaller compared to their big earners. But it is the recent issues with these bigger titles that have started to test everyone's patience and tolerance for Valve's bullshit:

Team Fortress 2 - I mean what else is there to say: rampant cheating and idle bots, bot hosters doxxing and swatting people. The bots crisis has been destroying the game for the past 5 years. If we remember the original SaveTF2 movement, it had a more positive tone, i. e., people talking about how much they love the game and pleading Valve to fix it. Well, one shitty tweet and two years later the tone has gone from "Please fix the game" to "FIX THE FUCKING GAME YOU ASSHOLES" and rightfully so.

CS2 also has a myriad of issues. CS:GO became CS2 after the game jumped to the Source 2 engine, but the resulting game, by many accounts, is a downgrade. A lot of game modes and maps from the original game were not included and are still not present as of June of 2024. Cheaters are rampant. To what degree I cannot say but it is to an extent where a significant enough portion of the player base is affected. Also, the game hasn't had an operation (major content update) since 2021. The player count is still high, but a lot voices in the community have been chewing out Valve for this level of incompetence.

With DOTA 2 I cannot say for sure. Some people talk about neglect whilst others say the game is in a decent state considering the game still gets frequent updates and patches. At most I can say that there is a portion of players that are dissatisfied with the state of the game but most likely to a much lesser extent than in the previous cases.

HOWEVER

All of that is just one part of the double whammy, the second part is probably is much worse than the first - a lack of continuity for Valve's legacy.

I mean, let's think about it for a second here: most of us who grew with the Valve classics are probably in our mid-to late twenties at this point. Of course, I'm not saying that there aren't any younger fans but the bulk is the old guard. I'm pretty sure a lot of kids and teenagers don't even know a lot about these games and it's not their fault, they weren't old enough to experience them. The blame lies SOLELY with Valve because they have done NOTHING to boost the visibility of their older series due to the fact that they haven't bothered to make a single proper sequel for any of them.

And speaking of visibility, Valve's advertising strategy is non - existent and downright insulting . They really have this holier-than-thou perception of themselves, where they think "I am THE Valve softworks, makers of TF2 and Half-Life! How could you NOT know of us?!?!" and then expect everyone else to spread news of their games through word-of-mouth. Like, I'm sorry, Gabe, but we don't owe you shit. I'm not gonna advertise your shitty card-game and upcoming mediocre 5v5 hero shooter just because I had fun playing TF2 back in high school. Like, it's no surprise that you're not gaining any new fans when this has been your modus operandi for the past 10 years.

TO CONCLUDE

This is where we are right now: the old guard is either apathetic or straight-up hates Valve for their negligence, the younger generation barely knows about most of Valve's OG game series due to the lack of any meaningful output. At the end of the day, Valve isn't going to bankrupt, they're gonna keep taking their 30% cut from Steam and peddling gambling addictions to kids via cases. However, the era of good will is over, nobody is cutting them any slack anymore and, frankly, they deserve all the shit that's going to get thrown at them.

[super-paper]

I know you were pretty checked out already by this point, but what were your thoughts on Deku’s conclusion in the last chapter?

Some good ideas, but even the good aspects of his conclusion sadly feel bogged down by poor execution/characterization + literally everything that led up to the final chapter.

I do think Izuku becoming a teacher was probably the most fitting ending for his character as a whole, but tbh, I would have taken it a step further and had him become an elementary school/middle school teacher rather than a teacher at UA.

That is to say: Izuku working at UA-- a highly exclusive school that only accepts "the best of the best" and children who are already on track to becoming heroes-- sadly makes him inaccessible to the type of students who need him most, I feel? His chance meeting with Dai only reinforces that tbh. If that child hadn't tripped or if Izuku hadn't happened to be right there, Dai would would still be feeling miserable and discouraged because no one in his class bothered to stand up for him-- Not even his own teacher. Like I understand the purpose of the scene (to parallel Toshi's first meeting with Izuku and show that Izuku is now inspiring others to be heroes in the same way) but that doesn't stop it from feeling more manipulative than truly heartfelt imho, bc Dai's existence only highlights the issues still deeply ingrained in hero society rather than inspiring any sort of hope for its future lmfao.

Anyway! Back to teacher Izuku-- I do love the idea of Izuku becoming someone who would have helped his child self! (and who could've possibly stepped in to help children like Tenko, Himiko, and Touya) (Honestly, kindergarten teacher Izuku is also a possibility that makes me go 👀👀👀). But again, him teaching at UA specifically kind of undermines the idea of him becoming hero for children like himself (or tenko/himiko/touya/etc). I think that the scene with Dai could have worked a lot better (or at least felt more emotionally genuine) with Izuku as his actual teacher, maybe?

I also think Izuku as a kindergarten/elementary school/middle school teacher (or any sort of educator outside of a hero course, really truly #beatingthatdeadhorse) would have eased the sting from how deeply and terribly the finale fumbled his dynamic with Tenko, too— Izuku actually reflecting on how AFO completely abused his position as Tenko's "teacher," and then resolving to become the sort of teacher that Tenko needed.... Izuku using what he learned from Tenko’s past to better identify abused children and using his new position/power in society to advocate for them/get them out of those situations early.... framing it this way would have really sold the “I’ll never forget him” promise, bc as it stands now, that promise ultimately just comes across as more hollow lip service from Izuku. ☠️

As for Iron Deku... if I'm being honest, it just doesn’t hit the same way for me as Iron Might did? Like I've gone into detail on why Iron Might works for me before both here and on twitter:

Iron Might worked for me because it was ultimately used as a vehicle to tell/complete Toshi's story and helped tie together the underlying themes that connected him to Tenko and AFO's arcs. Like it might not have been perfectly implemented bc Hori decided to make it an 11th hour surprise for the sake of building hype/suspense in the readers, but this combination of factors still made Iron Might work for me. Iron Might itself was not the answer to "can someone w/o a quirk be a hero like you?," Toshi's willingness to act when no one else was able to was the answer. He retains his heroic shading even after the armor is stripped away and after he's left entirely at AFO's mercy.

At the same time/Conversely.... I feel like "Iron Deku" just muddies the overall message of the series in the end:

Again, Toshinori's answer to "Can someone without a quirk be a hero like you" wasn't Iron Might-- It was "Yes, because you always work hard and never give up on your dreams/because you're someone who could never let his dream die."

......... only for Izuku to more or less let said dream die after losing his quirk. Like????? (like, another big problem with heroaca's tone is that it keeps trying to prop Izuku up as "someone who never gives up" when he does, in fact, end up giving up in some fairly big ways with some fairly big consequences-- Like, even though the series tries to skirt around saying it outright, Izuku did ultimately give up on saving Tenko and chose to treat him as collateral to AFO. Like... it's okay to have your protagonist get discouraged/give up, but in cases like this, I expect the narrative to actually acknowledge it as such instead of trying to convince the reader otherwise. Attempting to gloss over Izuku's failure with sugary-sweet platitudes after the series spent 400+ chapters deriding platitudes and defining actual true saving as "saving their their hearts and their lives" is the type of shit that results in a complete breakdown of trust between the author/reader.)

At any rate, yeah. Izuku's conclusion had a few good ideas that were sadly weighed down by poor/rushed execution and mixed/unclear messaging-- and sadly, the epilogue/final chapter did nothing to fix the huge problems with his character writing throughout the entirety of Act 3. It's a shame bc Act 1 & 2 (and even early Act 3) Izuku really was one of my favorite characters, but at some point his writing took a complete nose dive that Hori sadly wasn't able to pull out of. :/

[chalkrevelations]

Oh. My god.

So, last night, I reblogged a gifset of that conversation Pete has with Pol when they’re on stakeout, tailing Vegas, sitting around in the car, and Pete wants to know who Pol thinks would do a better job – Vegas’s bodyguard or Pete? And I added this bit of commentary:

My theory on the closest thing Pete has to a sexual fantasy at this point in the narrative and his life: Pete saves Vegas's life in some kind of shootout or assassination attempt that no one else could have protected Vegas from, thereby earning headpats from Thee Vegas Theerapanyakul, who Everyone Knows is a completely detached sociopath who usually has no more use for his bodyguards than as human bulletproof vests (which is somehow different from the main family for no reason I can discern but apparently exists?). Only now, Pete has proven himself and is both Noticed By and Special To this violent, emotionally inaccessible man (who, as an added bonus, is in a position of power over him). I mean, for whatever variables of "special" Pete can even conceptualize at this point, anyway. And I wonder how many times he's imagined this. It's Pete's very own mafia-filtered version of the Bad Boy fantasy in which you're the only one he cares about - you're the only one who can have that effect on him - and that makes you the Most Special-est Girl. C'mon, who's the most inaccessible Bad Boy in Pete's sphere? Certainly not Kinn, who'll just up and tell Pete that he trusts him the Very Most - even more than Pete's best friend! who Kinn is fucking! - the hot minute that Kinn's coercing Pete into doing something he really, really doesn't want to do. And you know Pete's daydream version of what makes him the Most Special-est Girl involves killing someone the best and quickest and most efficiently - because if he wins in the ring a fight, then the most emotionally inaccessible, violent man he knows (who, as an added bonus, is in a position of power over him) will love him, right? Not to mention, a guy with that many gun posters doesn't get stuck on Tankhun-babysitting detail and not have fantasies about proving his worth via violence. Listen, he just spends an awful lot of time standing around in Vegas's right-hand man spot like he's trying on the position during Ep 7, is all I'm sayin'.

… in which the vague allusions to Pete’s Daddy Issues were absolutely intentional. And I’ve also commented before about Pete finding another home with an angry man at the safehouse. And yet it wasn’t until yesterday’s post rolled up on my own dashboard and I saw it again today that the Brick Of Revelation hit me in the head and I thought about this through the framework of - my god! Pete and Vegas really do play out the very scenario that Pete warns Vegas about when you’re seeking the approval of your father abuser!

In the safehouse, Pete wins. He achieves his fantasy. He pulls the thorn out of the lion’s paw, and he gets the notice and special regard of Vegas Theerapanyakul, and he gets his world rocked on top of that, and then … then it turns out nothing changes. Vegas – the guy who expected that Pete winning in the ring would mean that his father would stop beating him, the guy who continues to seek his own abusive father’s approval, who keeps trying to win against Kinn, in the hope that Kun will stop treating him as a disposable whipping boy – Vegas goes right back to physically and emotionally abusing Pete. On top of that, the fantasy doesn’t play out in reality; Vegas literally tells Pete that he’s nothing special. (I mean, lies, of course, but the fact is that Vegas says it right to his face.)

I just. This is another one of those instances where I walked up to this revelation and even walked all the way around it, poking at it, but I just never looked at it straight on until this moment - the way Pete’s experience in the safehouse so closely mirrors his experience with his father. We watch Vegas continue to recreate the cycle of abuse, and we're like, "oh, dude, you need to make some better decisions," but we've also just spent 2.5 eps watching Pete, dispenser of this very wisdom, fall back into the same patterns he warns Vegas about. Because breaking that cycle and changing your behavior and your expectations is hard. Even when your head knows better. The things this show says about generational trauma and intimate violence and patriarchal control, I just ... god. Just, don't mind me, I have to go claw at some drywall for a while.

Also, it makes me wonder if Pete did kill his father. Because if he ran from home the same way he ran from the safehouse, if we’re supposed to look at this echo forward into the present of what happened in the past, then are we supposed to think that maybe there was a similar confrontation in the past, in which Pete struck out before he extricated himself from the trap he was in and ran?

Vegas is a lot younger and more resilient (and used to being knocked around) than Pete’s dad probably was, at that point.

[lurafita]

Inspired by No Way Home, Alec’s deal with asmodeus is instead that Magnus will get his magic and his immortality back but in exchange Alec Lightwood will be wiped from Everyone’s memory.

Bonus if Alec is made immortal in this, to suffer eternity as a stranger.

I’m just not sure how we get back to Malec or if they have to meet again.

Or if we say that just like the books, Ragnor hid in a pocket universe and when he comes back his phone has messages from Magnus pining for an Alec Lightwood perhaps with an image attached?

To be honest, I'm in favor of most things that change the "Break his heart for his own good" plot. (I believe I have posted here already why I hate it so much, so I won't bore you with it again. XD )

Immortal Alec is always a goal for me, because I need immortal Malec, because I cannot stand the thought of Magnus having to lose yet another person he loved so much.

And the memory wipe thing, I mean, I may be a little too blazé about this, but I don't think that needs to be such a bad thing. (though my personal dislike for big drama plays into this, so I'm probably just gonna think in far too simplified terms about this)

But, I mean, come on. It's not like Alec was blissfully happy with his lot in life, right? Magnus and his siblings, as I see it, were the only things he truly cherished. And with them, he can simply rebuild his relationship. Maybe not to what it was before where his siblings are concerned, but still something good. And with Magnus, he can strive to be even better.

And the immortality thing, maybe, since wiping Alec from everyon's memory is such a big scale operation, since it also invovles rewriting the memories of all those involved to make things make sense without Alec being a factor in all that had happened. Maybe that means that there is a balance kinda thing, where mortal Alec cannot exist where the memory of him doesn't exist. So his being needs to be made into something different. And so Alec becomes ... I don't know, an unseelie, or a dark fae, or a warlock, or a vampire, or whatever else is immortal, or maybe some kind of higher demon. With his own memories intact, but inaccessible to anyone else.

And then he can meet the group after that, while they are out closing a rift or whatever, and help them. Make a whole new entrance for himself. Start out as an ally, and then get absorbed into the group again.

Or meet Magnus first. Who would most likely still be single and having had his heart closed off for centuries. Meet him on more even footing, under better circumstances (like, not right after Magnus had lost some of his warlock friends to the circle members. I can't believe the show just hand waved that away. An apartment full of traumatized people who had just been attacked by murderous fanatics, but the shadowhunters needs came first, of course...)

Anyway, I think a setup like this could be made to do something really neat, without having to wade through too much drama.

Many thanks for this message. This is really fun to think about.

Hope the driver's liscence thing all works out. Though anything that has to do with departmental work usually takes way longer than it shouuld ..

[joey8song]

So, anyone saying that “your body my choice” bullshit, kill yourself. It’s the only way your life would have any meaning anyway.

Frankly I don’t give a shit what anyone’s motivations were for voting for trump. If you voted for him you are either willfully a bad person or an idiot, and I want nothing to do with you.

I’m not going to get into specific criticisms of policy or what his party has been saying, because that’s not the point of this post. Just know that I argue that anyone praising his economy ideas doesn’t know a thing about the economy and would fail a 100 level Econ course; and everything else is more akin to dystopian bs and is a human rights violation. Despite what many bigoted idiots seem to think, yes people other than white straight cis men are in fact human beings who deserve the same rights as everyone else.

The results were not surprising to me, but they were disgusting and disappointing.

I have hated saying this because it’s elitist but it’s relevant now.

There is a correlation between political views and levels of education. Systems of oppression benefit from making education inaccessible. Wow, so crazy that dictatorships have this in common and is often a warning sign in history for things to come. It’s almost like this is a traceable pattern and a clear and proven warning sign.

Anyone seeking to control peoples access to information and education does not give a shit about you. Read an actual book and stop letting your one dimensional views exist in an echo chamber that validates your bullshit.

Then on the flip side, people who fully agree with trumps vitriol, I hope there is a hell because you’ll be right at home there.

Anyone that voted for Trump, third party, or chose to not vote, get off my blog, and do everyone a favor by shutting the fuck up.

[hannahssimblr]

“That bit is upside down,” Jen chews her lip, holding two halves of a tent pole. “Or is it? I don’t know. Maybe you were right.”

“I have no clue, to be honest.” I hold my hands up in surrender and back away from the crumpled heap that is our shared tent for the weekend, the sight of which fills me with increasing dread. “You know what I’m like. I can’t do stuff like this.”

“Like read?” She scrutinises the crumpled instruction sheet for the tenth time. “This shouldn’t be so hard for us. Do you think we should have been assessed in school?”

“For a learning difficulty? What? No. There weren’t classes for this kind of complicated stuff. It’s not our fault.”

“It’s piss easy,” Shane comments. He assembled both his tent and Claire’s and Evie’s in the time it took Jen and me to wrestle our tent parts from the bag. “You put the poles together, thread them through the tarp, and stick the pins in the ground. What’s the matter with ye?”

“Dunno. We’re just fucking stupid, I suppose.”

“Push over, I’ll do it.” 

Jen lets the poles roll off her palm onto the ground and we let him, watching uselessly as he slots the poles together with some sort of insane, military efficiency and has the whole thing standing neatly, our perfect, nylon dome, in about two minutes flat. 

“Thanks,” I say. 

Jen echoes. “Yeah, jeez, cheers for that.”

“Do you ever think the real world is, like, going to come and bite ye in the arses?” Shane wonders, wiping the sweat from his face with the hem of his t-shirt. “When you go off and start living on your own, I mean. Do you ever worry you won’t be able to hack it?”

I look at Jen, and she at me. I shrug. “I’m moving to a city, like, do you think there’ll be wilderness excursions there, or something?”

“You might eventually need to read instructions, is all.”

I grin. “Someone else can do it for me.”

“Right, yeah.” his brow furrows. “I’m just saying, like, you might get a bit of a shock when you’re out there on your own.”

“I’ve been alone though,” I argue. “It’s not like my parents do everything for me. I’m not one of those kids who was-”

“Yeah, not with all things, just some things. Like, what if you ever needed to earn your own money, to get a job in a restaurant or something? Do you not think you’d need a bit of know-how, a bit of practical experience?”

I scoff. “Why would I need to do that?”

“Because sometimes people have to work.” I hate the way he’s saying it, and feel my body stiffen like hackles are rising along my spine. Of course, Shane is going on about this. Proper job this, practical experience that. 

This is the tone that accompanies every tactful reminder that he comes from a hardworking family and I, apparently, do not. Like my parents’ academic backgrounds lessen their credibility. Like it makes them snobbier, lazier, more willing to sneer at ordinary folk. What's true for them does not automatically extend to me. To think so is an insult. 

Shane’s dad is the head chef in some hotel in Tullamore, his mother a florist who works seven days a week, and they have drilled into him and Kelly their extraordinary, frankly ridiculous work ethic. They think it’s normal, aspirational even, to get up at five in the morning for some mundane job. But I know something with more truth to it: that there’s merit in taking it easy, with relaxing, sleeping in, and spending time with the things you enjoy. And, by the way, what does all of this have to do with a tent? 

I plaster on my best laid back smile and drop a hand onto his shoulder. 

“This is a boring conversation.” I insist, in the hopes that I will embarrass him out of putting me through this conversation. “Let’s grab a few drinks, yeah? Talking about future stuff should be off-limits for the weekend.”

He shrugs. “I suppose, yeah. I’ll drop it.”

“Thanks, mate.”

I amble over to where the girls hang out on the grass and join them, getting Claire to pass me of the drinks we smuggled through among an inaccessible pile of socks and underwear at the bottom of her bag. I crack it open and swish the beer around my mouth. It’s warm, horrible, but it’s wonderful in another way. It’s the most authentic experience possible. Here I am, in a field, drinking warm beer with the sun on my face. Carefree, with the rhythmic beat from the main stage pulsing through the earth beneath me. I could get used to things being simple.

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