#the characters supposed to be teens or in their early twenties????

[midjomolstad]

The way every time someone mentioned “young boy” in ponniyin selvan they were actually referring to actors who were literally 45 and 55 years old like

[cakemoney]

it is extremely teenager-coded to not even think to ask for help or not be able to articulate the help you need, and also i understand these High School Junior Year Struggles exist for the sake of the season arc and individual character development and that's probably why the entire gang isn't breaking into porter's house to christmas carol him into approving gorgug's multiclassing, but also it is super jarring for there to be both a literal trust fund baby living unsupervised in his massive house and an orphaned (?) teenager who needs to get a part-time job to pay for her school supplies. fabian's house definitely has barrels of diamonds just sitting somewhere, but instead adaine has to cut the Infinite Strudel for eight hours a day.

[caeca-iustitia]

I feel like I want to throw a teenage Vincent at someone...

I have yet to decide what side of their father's death said Vincent would come from but...

The urge to write the bean is strong...

[hamletthedane]

Hamlet’s Age

Not to bring up an age-old debate that doesn’t even matter, but I have been thinking recently how interesting Hamlet’s age is both in-text and as meta-text.

To summarize a whole lot of discussion, we basically only have the following clues as to Hamlet’s age:

Hamlet and Horatio are both college students at Wittenberg. In Early Modern/Late Renaissance Europe, noble boys typically began their university education at 14 and usually completed at their Bachelor’s degree by 18 or 19. However, they may have been studying for their Master’s degrees, which was typically awarded by age 25 at the latest. For reference, contemporary Kit Marlowe was a pretty late bloomer who received a bachelor’s degree at 20 and a master’s degree at 23.

Hamlet is AGGRESSIVELY described as a “youth” by many different characters - I believe more than any other male shakespeare character (other than 16yo Romeo). While usage could vary, Shakespeare tended to use “youth” to mean a man in his late teens/very early 20s (actually, he mostly uses it to describe beardless ‘men’ who are actually crossdressing women - likely literally played by young men in their late teens)

King Hamlet is old enough to be grey-haired, but Queen Gertrude is young enough to have additional children (or so Hamlet strongly implies)

Hamlet talks about plucking out the hairs of his beard, so he is old enough to at least theoretically have a beard

In the folio version, the gravedigger says he became a gravedigger the day of Hamlet’s birth, and that he’s be “sixteene here, man and boy, thirty years.” However, it’s unclear if “sixteene” means “sixteen” or “sexton” (ie has he worked here for 16 years but is 30 years old, or has he been sexton there for thirty years?)

Hamlet knew Yorick as a young child, and the gravedigger says Yorick was buried 23 years ago. However, the first quarto version version of Hamlet says “dozen years” instead of “three and twenty.” This suggests the line changed over time. (Or that the bad quarto sucks - I really need to make that post about it, huh…)

Yorick is a skull, and according to the gravedigger’s expertise, he has thus been dead for at least 7-8 years - implying Hamlet is at least ~15yo if he remembers Yorick from his childhood

One important thing sometimes overlooked - Claudius takes the throne at King Hamlet’s death, not Prince Hamlet. That is mostly a commentary on English and French monarchist politics at the time, but it is strange within the internal text. A thirty year old Hamlet presumably would have become the new monarch, not the married-in uncle (unless Gertrude is the vehicle through which the crown passes a la Mary I/Phillip II - certainly food for thought)

Honestly, Hamlet is SO aggressively described as being very young that I’m fairly confident the in-text intention is to have him be around 18-23yo. Placing his age at 30yo simply does not make much sense in the context of his descriptors, his narrative role, and his status as a university student.

However, it doesn’t really matter what the “right” answer is, because the confusion itself is what makes the gravedigger scene so interesting and metatextual. We can basically assume one of the following, given the folio text:

Hamlet really is meant to be 30yo, and that was supposed to surprise or imply something to the contemporary audience that is now lost to us

Older actors were playing Hamlet by the time the folio was written down, and the gravedigger’s description was an in-text justification of the seeming disconnect between age of actor and description of “youth”

Older actors were playing Hamlet by the time the folio was set down, and the gravedigger’s description was an in-text JOKE making fun of the fact that a 30-something year old is playing a high-school aged boy. This makes sense, as the gravedigger is a clown and Hamlet is a play that constantly pokes fun at its own tropes and breaks the fourth wall for its audience

The gravedigger cannot count or remember how old he is, and that’s the joke (this is the most common modern interpretation whenever the line isn’t otherwise played straight). If the clown was, for example, particularly old, those lines would be very funny

Any way you look at it, I believe something is echoing there. It seems like this is one of the many moments in Hamlet where you catch a glimpse of some contemporary in-joke about theater and theater culture* that we can only try to parse out from limited context 430 years later. And honestly, that’s so interesting and cool.

*(My other favorite example of this is when Hamlet asks Polonius about what it was like to play Julius Caesar in an exchange that pokes fun of Polonius’ actor a little. This is clearly an inside-joke directed at Globe regulars - the actor who played Polonius must have also played Julius Caesar in Shakespeare’s play, and been very well reviewed. Hamlet’s joke about Brutus also implies the actor who played Brutus is one of the main cast in Hamlet - possibly even the prince himself, depending on how the line is read).

[imaginarylungfish]

we don't want izuku to be quirkless in the end blah blah blah, yeah i know. same.... but also, it could be cool.

imagine he still becomes a great hero, but quirkless? he's the first quirkless hero? and maybe that message is not one for mha to tackle, but hear me out:

what if his arc is him wanting so badly to have a quirk, getting one, learning that being a hero is inherent to himself and not attached to his quirk/abilities, giving his quirk up, AND still being a great hero? wouldn't that be awesome?!

i think that type of character trajectory is unique and interesting in and of itself. but i also know my personal experiences in life contribute to why i think it's cool. i became sick and chronically ill in my late-teens/early-twenties. i lost my health. over the past 5 years, i've regained a lot of it, but i'm not 100% better (and most likely will never be). i've had to go through the arduous process of accepting my physical limits through many iterations of functionality yet learning when i was actually being held back by mental limits/fears and how to push past those.

i relate to izuku's character on many levels: wanting so badly to have something i don't, trying so hard despite not having that thing, and getting that thing you wished so badly for seemingly out of the blue (for me, it was a medication that drastically improved my health). i also relate to his self-destructiveness in name of a goal and sense of (sometimes unwanted) martyrdom.

but i was always a little disappointed throughout the series in the fact that izuku's big problem at the beginning was just seemingly resolved by him getting his quirk from all might. does he view his quirkless self as worthy as his OFA self? we don't know. (do i view my sick self as worthy as my "healthy" self? i don't know.)

so, i just think, if izuku loses his quirk, there is more room for growth for him. in other words, he becomes more interesting. and i get it, this is a shonen manga, it's ending soon, and it's supposed to have an inspiring message (i assume). so maybe it ending with him being quirkless is not something that belongs in this category of manga/anime. but if any series can break the mold, isn't it mha?

[petrichor-han]

timeless; alex sdv

PAIRING I alex x afab!reader

CAST | alex, haley, emily (stardew valley)

WC | 3.2k

GENRE I fluff, smut, soulmate!au, strangers to lovers

WARNINGS I explicit language, alcohol consumption, bar setting, reader is briefly described to at least be in their late twenties, semi-public sex, explicit sexual content (making out, breast play, clit stimulation, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pullout method, cumshot)

SYNOPSIS | you've been waiting for what seems like forever to meet your soulmate, but things speed along when you make a detour to the stardrop saloon the night before you're due to run into them.

A/N | requested by @feelsaesthetic. ahhh omg thank you SO much for this request summer!! alex is one of my favorite stardew characters right now and this was so much fun to write :,) thank you sm for your patience!! (event is now closed, but requests are open.)

REQUEST! | EVENT MASTERLIST

“It’s sort of like… counting down to New Year’s. Or waiting for it to be midnight on your birthday,” is how Emily describes it. It only earns a sour look from Haley and a confused look from you—what the hell did she mean? 

Haley rolls her eyes, fed up with her sister’s antics. “If you mean because of the anticipation… I guess so,” the blonde says condescendingly, before turning back to you. “Just think of it like a blind date. Have we ever let you down on one of those?” 

“Yes,” you say dryly, raising an eyebrow at the two sisters, making Emily giggle and Haley’s cheeks flush a dark pink. 

“Fine, whatever—that’s not the point,” she says through gritted teeth. “The point is that you shouldn’t be nervous. They’re your soulmate for a reason—it’s not like things could go that badly.” 

“Believe it,” you mutter, glancing down at the small numbers etched onto the sensitive skin of your wrist. The color of the numbers is quite close to your skin tone, but there is a quality that makes it stand out—almost shimmer—even when your surroundings are completely dark. These seemingly insignificant little numbers tell you the day and time that you’ll apparently meet your soulmate. 

It’s always been there, but since you realized that you wouldn’t be meeting your soulmate in your teens and early twenties (after doing the math and adding up how many months and years the time added up to) you had no issue with dating around and just getting to know people despite knowing they weren’t your soulmate, and you weren’t theirs. It was almost freeing in a way; it took the pressure of ‘forever’ off of you and your partner, so that you could enjoy the time that you had together—however long that ended up being. None of them ended up sticking, but it was more of a friendly farewell than anything; no bad blood or anything between you and any of your exes, because you never expected to stay together for that long in the first place. It was fun while it lasted, was all you ever thought when one of your relationships ended—though this did not quell the ache in your heart. It still hurt, you still loved them. 

Both Haley and Emily—your closest friends in Pelican Town thus far—have yet to meet their soulmates as well. The pair of sisters are doing their best to give you advice as your date—the soonest of the three—approaches steadily, despite the fact that neither of them have any experience in this area of expertise either. 

Tomorrow. That’s when you’re supposed to meet your soulmate, the person you’re supposed to love more than anyone and anything, the one with whom you may very well spend the rest of your life with. Regardless of how it ends, it’ll be life changing, and you’ll never be able to go back after this. That’s the scary part. That’s what you so loved to avoid in your past relationships—the commitment of forever. 

“You’re gonna be okay. Stop freaking yourself out already,” Haley says, giving you an awkward but reassuring hug as they bid you goodbye. The smell of Haley’s sweet, sugary perfume floods your senses as crickets chirp noisily around the three of you and fireflies lazily bob up and down in the midnight blue sky. As you pull away, you see a flicker of sympathy in her eyes before Emily hugs you too, her short blue hair tickling your skin as she buries her face in your clothes. 

“Tell us what he’s like,” Emily says, holding onto your fingers for a moment before letting go, her touch soft and lingering—almost as if she can sense your hesitation to leave, to be alone tonight. 

“Tell us who he is,” Haley interrupts, “it’s a small town. We have to know him one way or another.” 

Laughing softly, you wave off your friends as you walk backwards down their driveway, until they close the door behind them and the warm, yellow glow of their house is shut away completely, leaving you in the dark. You take a deep breath as you start to walk away from their house, feeling the cool night breeze blow through your clothes and making you shiver ever so slightly. 

Gravel crunches under your feet as you leave your friends’ neighborhood, and your steps falter as you see the bright glow of the Stardrop Saloon in the center of town—practically begging you to come inside and have a drink or two. 

You reach into your pocket, holding your breath—did you remember your wallet today? 

It’s a lucky day, and your fingers enclose around the solid entity, making a grin spread across your face. Just one drink, and then you’d head home. It was to quell your nerves, help you sleep better tonight so that you could be fresh faced and bright tomorrow when you met your soulmate. 

Pushing the doors open, you’re welcomed with a whoosh of cool air and the smell of alcohol. The saloon isn’t packed, but there’s a decent amount of people there. No one turns their head as you walk in and sit down at the bar, ordering a fruity little cocktail after thumbing through the sticky menu for a few minutes. 

You’re waiting for your drink, your fingers drumming against the sticky wooden countertop to the beat of the song that’s playing, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. As you turn around to reply, feeling a slight twinge of annoyance at being bothered when you just sat down, you’re interrupted before you can even begin by the little clock on your wrist sending a sudden shock of pain through your arm, eliciting a guttural gasp from your throat as you clutch at your limb in pain. The sharp pain disappears just as soon as it appears, but you immediately know what it means—your time has run out. 

It seems that the person who tapped on your shoulder felt the same effect, as when you turn to look at them, flabbergasted, they’re hunched over, coughing wetly as they raise the sleeve of their letterman jacket to wipe their mouth. 

That person—a handsome man with tan skin and quite chiseled features—looks up at you, bewildered, before he looks down to check his own wrist. He runs a hand through his dark brown hair, further ruffling the messy, somewhat spiky mess as he looks at you with  a slight flush creeping onto his cheeks. “Well… I was going to tell you that the back of your shirt is tucked into your pants,” he says, somewhat haughtily—but it’s endearing, as you can tell he’s flustered. You can’t help but giggle as he crosses his arms defensively, blushing further. 

You reach back to pull your shirt out of your pants, only feeling slightly embarrassed about accidentally tucking it in when you went to the bathroom earlier. “Thanks,” you say sheepishly, wiping your clammy palms on your pants as you try to appear casual and collected. “Wanna sit?” 

“If you didn’t ask, I was going to anyway,” he says, chuckling as he takes a seat beside you. He orders a beer before turning to face you, his eyes sparkling in the warm light as he admires you. “I couldn’t let someone as pretty as you walk away just like that.” 

“And the fact that we’re soulmates doesn’t have anything to do with that?” you ask, your tone light and teasing. You take another sip of your drink, feeling flirty and lighthearted as you drain the cocktail. 

He chuckles, taking a swig of his beer before setting the dark brown bottle down roughly, some light colored foam spilling over the ribbed lip. “Fine, you win. It does. Now, what’s your name? I can’t go another minute without knowing.” He leans closer to you, grinning toothily—he has the prettiest teeth, all white and even as he smiles at you and makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Someone’s impatient,” you say, though you clearly enjoy his insistence. You tell him your name, at which his eyes light up, and he boldly reaches over to clasp your hand in his, pressing a kiss over your knuckles. 

“Call me whatever you’d like as long as you know my real name. It’s Alex,” he says, without a hint of shame—though you can tell he’s a little nervous, at the way his cheeks flush again, his face flushing a dark reddish brown as he takes another swig of beer to try and calm his nerves. He doesn’t want to scare you away; he wants to impress you, make you fall for him deeply and irrevocably—and what he doesn’t know is that it’s working, despite his apparent awkwardness and jittery movements. 

His tongue darts over his lips, wetting them in an act of nervousness as he watches you intently. Your gaze drops from his eyes to his mouth, watching as he bites at his bottom lip momentarily, his heart racing from your heavy-lidded, unintentionally seductive gaze. When your eyes flicker back up to look at him, his breath catches in his throat before he reaches forward to cup your face in his calloused hand, his rough thumb brushing over the soft skin of your cheek as he leans forward. There’s an obvious sense of desperation and longing as he pauses, wanting a confirmation that it’s okay before closing the distance between the two of you completely. He exhales shakily, his brows furrowing as he looks into your eyes pleadingly—a look reserved for you, and only you. 

You nod, your movement ever so slight that he barely catches it until you start leaning in too, and he realizes that you’re about to kiss him. Your lips press to his, and his heart nearly explodes from how fast it’s racing, pounding in his chest as he inhales deeply and kisses you back passionately. 

Your arms wrap loosely around his neck, and your heart flutters as you feel his strong, defined muscles flexing beneath his clothes once you press your body to his, nearly falling out of the barstool you’re sitting in. His free hand wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to his front as he deepens the kiss with a growl. His tongue slides along your lower lip as his hand squeezes your side, asking you for entry. You grant him this, parting your lips slightly with a soft gasp as he slides his tongue into your mouth, kissing you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear again if he stops. His other hand drops to your waist as well, gently squeezing as he pulls you closer. 

You’re the one that breaks the kiss eventually, panting as you reluctantly pull away. Your lungs are screaming for air, and you have to give yourself a break even though you think there’s nothing else you’d rather do than drown in the beautiful man that’s standing before you. He grins, thumbing at the slickness of your mixed saliva on your lower lip before taking you by the hand. “Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, hope laced in his voice. 

“Yoba, yes. I was starting to think you’d never ask,” you say breathily, clinging to him tightly—there’s something magnetic, something so purely attractive about him that prevents you from ever wanting to let go. You fumble through your wallet for a few bills, slapping them onto the countertop before standing up and taking Alex by the hand, enjoying the feeling of his large, warm fingers curling around yours. He too leaves his payment on the counter beside yours before you drag him out of the saloon, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. 

Before you can urge him to come back to yours, knowing that your place is empty and quiet—hence, no interruptions—he takes the lead and pulls you around the side of the Stardrop Saloon, into a small cluster of trees and bushes that just obscure you from the sight of anyone that’d walk by on the path. He kisses you again, deeply, fervently—like you’re his only source of oxygen, and he can hardly breathe. Your fingers tangle in his surprisingly soft brown hair, tugging lightly and eliciting a soft groan from between his lips. 

His hands are busy, roaming your body curiously, impatiently. He gropes your tits, smooths his hands down your curves, squeezes your hips and ass as he appreciatively moans into the kiss. “So beautiful,” he groans against your lips, “so fuckin’ beautiful, my soulmate.” 

His words send a flurry of emotions through you, your heart racing and your eyes strangely burning with the threat of tears as you nibble on his lower lip, your chest absolutely bursting with emotion. He breaks this kiss this time, panting as his hands move down to unbutton his jeans. Mirroring his actions, you move to undo your pants as well, shoving them halfway down your thighs before Alex grabs you with a low growl erupting from his throat. He presses a tender kiss to the sensitive skin of your throat, his tongue darting out to lick over your quivering neck. 

Moaning, you press yourself closer to him, feeling like every inch of your skin is on fire if it’s not touching him. He cups your ass with his hands, hissing with satisfaction as he squeezes your cheeks gently, making your face flood with heat out of shyness. He slides his hands beneath your panties, pulling them down the same distance as your pants, which are still wedged halfway down your thighs. 

He presses you against the wall of the saloon, one of his hands snaking up your thighs until his fingers glide through your slick folds, earning a smug grin from him and a shaky whimper from you. “You’re so wet…” he murmurs, trying to hide the awe in his voice as he rubs your clit gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You cling to him, your legs shaking as he applies more pressure to your clit, realizing just how much you’re enjoying it. “Does that feel good?” he asks, breathless, eager—it only turns you on more. 

“Yes,” you gasp, pulling him closer; he stands over you, one hand flat against the wall to hold himself up as you cling to him desperately, the other between your legs, rubbing your clit at a quicker pace now as you feel pleasure clouding your mind. “So good…”

You can feel his breath, warm against your cheek as he pants, his wrist and fingers beginning to feel a little sore as he vigorously works at your cunt, trying to find exactly what makes you tick. Once his sloppy, wet digits slick over your swollen clit again, pressing harder, he feels your thighs twitch and hears the suppressed whimper—he knows he’s found it. He rubs your sensitive nub in small circles, grunting when you dig your nails into his back, crying out as your orgasm hits you suddenly, consuming you in both mind and body. 

Do you black out for a moment? You’re almost not sure, with the colors and shapes swirling before your eyes as pleasure washes over you, making your entire body convulse and your mind fuzzy and nonsensical. You can hear yourself whimpering and moaning as Alex rubs your clit through your orgasm, and it’s a little embarrassing knowing just how loud you’re being—but you had no idea that being with your soulmate would feel just this good. Nothing could have prepared you for that feeling—none of your previous partners come close in the slightest. 

Alex presses soft kisses to your lips and chin, trailing them down your jawline and neck as you come down from your intense orgasm, panting heavily as you cling to his sturdy form. He’s moved his hands to your hips now, holding you up as you feel your legs being reduced to jelly—when was the last time something sexual had this effect on you? You’re not sure—a while, that’s for damn certain. 

You can feel his cock, hard and leaking against your inner thigh as he kisses you so sweetly, so softly. It makes you want to make him feel good too, give him the same pleasure that he gave you. 

Your fingers enclose around his length, making him moan softly as you start to stroke him, thumbing his leaking tip and giggling as his thigh twitches from the sensitivity. You guide him to your entrance, pressing his fat tip to your silky folds and sighing softly—with pleasure—as he takes over, grasping your hips tightly as he pushes forward, his cock pressing into your tight warmth. 

Both of you exhale sharply as his tip slips inside, the sudden feeling nearly overwhelming for both parties. And then he’s pressing forward even more, his girth reaching sensitive places and making you feel things that you’ve never experienced before—and again, you realize that all of the sex you’ve had before was so bland, so boring compared to this singular time with Alex. 

In the midst of your epiphany, he buries his face in your neck, moaning softly as he feels your pussy clenching around him, your wetness slowly dripping down his shaft and balls. He’s so sensitive—more sensitive than ever before—and he just can’t believe how perfect you feel around his cock. As he reaches down to hook one of your legs around his waist, he also bites down on your neck, leaving a throbbing mark that he licks over, making you shiver and whine as he starts to thrust into you. 

“Mine,” he growls, “my soulmate. My beautiful soulmate.” 

His possessiveness sends a thrill of pleasure down your spine; paired with the suddenly rapid, rhythmic thrusts that cause his hips to slam into yours, the loud smacking of skin against skin echoing around the empty, quiet night. If anyone were to walk by, it wouldn’t matter that they can’t see you through the trees and bushes—they could most definitely hear you from all the way down the road. The smacks of his hips against your ass, the squelch as his cock presses deep into your soaking cunt, the sinful moans that erupt from both of you as you become lost in the pleasure and the emotions. 

Maybe it’s just your sexual experience and prowess—but you like to think that you know because he’s your soulmate. His hips begin to stutter, his thrusts more sloppy and less rhythmic as he gasps loudly, burying his cock in you once more before pulling out hurriedly and cumming all over your stomach and chest, stroking himself to completion with a loud groan. 

You both take a moment to catch your breath, panting as crickets chirp around you, oblivious to what just occurred. “Our second time will be much more romantic,” Alex says seriously, once he’s stopped panting as heavily. He takes off his green letterman jacket and then his t-shirt underneath, gently using the latter to wipe his streaks of cum off of your skin. “I promise.” 

You smile, your heart fluttering at his words—the determination clear in his voice. “Why don’t you come back to my place tonight? We can make it really romantic… and also get to know each other better,” you say, chuckling. You feel the little numbers on your wrist tingling again as Alex pulls you in for another deep kiss, his emotions evident in his passion. 

“Thank Yoba,” he says, mirroring your words with a grin, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

© petrichor-han 2024, all rights reserved. // divider credit: @saradika-graphics

please consider reblogging and/or leaving a few kind words if you enjoyed this fic :) tumblr posts revolve around reblogs, and i'd appreciate the gesture!!

[baldurs-writers-3]

Injuries: A Baldur's Gate 3 Rec List

This week, we have fics featuring blood and injury! Check under the cut for fourteen fics exploring pain and its aftermath of all different sorts. And as always, comment and kudos if you like them!

Any kind of life (without you my dear) by QueenMaria (18129,Teen) Warnings: No major warnings Pairings: Astarion/Tav

Feign death is only supposed to last an hour; Tav goes down in a fight.

Reccer says: I love how the author uses "flashbacks" of dialog from the game to make scenes more poignant. A lovely hurt/comfort fic.

The (barn) is spinning by nostrix (879,General) Warnings: None Pairings: Karlach & Wyll

Wyll gets a concussion post Barn fight and Karlach makes sure he doesn't immediately eat dirt about it

Reccer says: Well described hurt and very nice comfort to round it all out afterwards

Breathe, breathe in the air - Leave, but don't leave me by nostrix (1976,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Lae'zel & Shadowheart

Shadowheart almost doesn't make it out of the Iron Throne, but Lae'zel makes sure she does

Reccer says: They really captured the fast pace of this fight, and the desperation of the situation Shadowheart finds herself in is perfect!

Protector by violinbythefire (2138,Teen) Warnings: Pairings: Karlach/Tav

Tav grew up in a society where he was disposable as a male. He's certain that his party would leave him for dead when the chandelier fell on him.

Reccer says: I love characters with no self-preservation being forced to deal with people who love them enough to force them to take care of themselves

The Light of the Seven by Verelia (13812,Mature) Warnings: Implied violence, implied sexual assaults, etc. (Typical Cazador stuff, but worth mentioning) Pairings: N/A

A series of one shots exploring each of Cazador's spawn.

Reccer says: I love how these are written, and how they bring very minor canonical characters to life. I was especially taken with the descriptions of the sea in Yousen's chapter; and the terrifying circumstances of his "spawning" by the Szarrs.

Old Breaks by Asidian (8016,General) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion/Halsin

Astarion's pretty good at hiding the signs of his chronic pain, but Halsin is pretty good about seeing them anyway, and is even better at convincing the vampire to accept help for them

Reccer says: Top tier comfort and caretaking

Ambush by Rimeko (2737,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion & Wyll

Astarion get's injured while he and Wyll are out scouting. He walks back, complaining about his hurt foot. Wyll assumes it is sprained, because after all, Astarion is just a magistrate, right?

Reccer says: I love the exploration of how Wyll thinks of his companions in the early days, and how that is forced to rapidly change each time he learns something new about them.

the blade falls by PurpleCatGhost (4097,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Wyll & Friends

Wyll used to know his own limits fairly well, but that was before the tadpole. Besides that, having friends you can rely on is also a new experience, though at least this one is a nice one

Reccer says: I really enjoy Wyll realizing just a little bit too late that his injuries are worse than he thought, and then everyone's response to that being "How dare you not tell us you needed help >:("

temporal displacement by PurpleCatGhost (4796,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion/Wyll

Or Present Day Astarion ends up in a temporal mishap that has him meeting Twenty Year Old Past Wyll while he’s on death’s door. He steps in to do something about it.

Reccer says: It's so sweet and soft

Less Than Ideal by jeejaschocolate (5021,General) Warnings: some internalized ableism and drinking to cope Pairings: Astarion/Wyll

Being burned by hellfire left Wyll with poor eyesight in his solitary eye. Astarion notices. Of course, he can’t keep his opinions to himself.

Reccer says: Lovely exploration of vulnerability

This Protector by Mellybaggins (4382,Teen) Warnings: Injury (obviously) Pairings: Astarion/Tav

"Morwen and Astarion go off on their own to explore the second floor of the Reithwin Tollhouse and they learn the hard way why you should never split the party."

Reccer says: It's a self-contained character moment for Tav and Astarion. I like that it shows what their relationship is like outside of the larger plot or a sex scene. It's a deleted scene of a larger work but can be read out of context as a standalone.

Fated by FartasticDurge (43896,Explicit) Warnings: Smut, Trauma, Lack of consent, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Pairings: Astarion/Tav

Tav with memory loss goes through the whole adventure, with some new twists and turns as new information unfolds itself.

Reccer says: I loved it!

Purification by yasminkhxns (2094,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Lae'zel & Friends, Lae'zel/Shadowheart

The Zaith'isk causes more damage than initially thought

Reccer says: I loved it!

Wither and Bloom by onlymine139 (2642,Mature) Warnings: None Pairings: Halsin/Tav

After a bloody fight with Orin, Tav realizes the air in the Bhaal temple may be affecting her more strongly than the others. Her druidic magic wavers and she feels ill. Luckily Halsin has seen this type of sickness before.

Reccer says: I loved it!

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[blackflash9]

AC and the Conundrum of Sequels

So I've noticed a particular trend that paraded many people's minds within the AC community, and that's been the gradual descent into this rather presumptuous mentality that the more sequel games a character has, the more unequivocally 'better' their development is as a character. This is often followed by Ezio used as the poster child.

[Disclaimer: I don't hate Ezio or Bayek, I'm just using them to illustrate my points] While I understand this sentiment, I've also learned that under a more critical lens, a lot in the case of Ezio's supposed "growth" has arguably always been more aesthetical than anything of substance. When we are first introduced to Ezio in AC2, we are already bombarded with a character that is far too perfect. It's hard to think of any genuine flaws in his personality or behavior - especially those that have any lasting consequences for the plot. He never quite makes any mistakes either; it doesn't help that everywhere he goes there's a small army of people desperate to help him out. He also has actual armies willing to help him at the drop of a hat, as well as being best friends with one of the smartest people in human history. His achievements in the plot are all handed to him on a silver platter.

He's never made to learn to do anything for himself. At first, you feel like that could have been the point of the early game. Ezio's father and brothers are dead, he's a wanted man and he needs to protect his mother and sister. Then, instead of trying to get them to safety, he prioritizes a chance for revenge, which suddenly brings the whole city down on him, making it harder to protect his family. The whole thing would then set up a story about Ezio having to grow up, stop being so brash and arrogant, etc. Having been born into luxury and an easy life, he now has to learn how to provide for himself and others. But these opportunities are missed.

When it comes to Ezio's motivations, I always felt like there was no reason for him to continue pursuing the Templars after all the Florentine conspirators were dead. Nor is there any kind of "Creed" or higher calling at play here, since he doesn't remotely know what the Assassins are for another ten years. He just hears that there are some bad guys in Venice and decides to go kill them. By this point, he doesn't have any real reason or motivation to continue hunting them other than his own blood lust. As a result, Ezio often feels like he is a vehicle is that dictated by the plot rather than the other way around.

I mean, only look at the average description for his character arc:  "He went from a young teen to wise master assassin and mentor."  That's all there is to say for most people: arbitrary labels. Rarely do you receive any commentary around here that delves into any shifts within his mindset, outlook, point of view, or anything that isn't just this parroted and outdated take. When we get to Brotherhood, this problem is exacerbated more where Ezio is even more static than he was before (aside from leadership and giving orders), because his arc was already concluded in the game prior where we already spent over twenty years with him where he was already leading people and giving orders. It's just more pointless and reductive padding.

Bayek is another character that normally gets wrapped up in the sequel discussion, but genuinely ask yourself: Is there anything else left to do with Bayek in a sequel? Much like Ezio in AC2, his arc is also pretty much wrapped up by the end of Origins (including the Hidden Ones DLC). He begins looking for revenge for his son's death; takes a stand against the Templars when he realizes the problem is far bigger than just himself; founds the Assassins to fight this corruption. What else is there to really do with the character? His arc's been concluded, it's not even like AC2 where not killing Rodrigo Borgia left a door open for a potential sequel. Any new game would essentially have to come up with a load of new goals and motivations for him to the point you may as well just come up with a new character.

But this is frustrating because we see complete and profound development from characters like Altair in a single game, even before Revelations. He begins as an arrogant jerk who sees himself as better than everyone but slowly becomes a wise individual upon learning from the complexity of his enemies and the contradictions within his own Creed. It's learning from his allies and enemies alike, learning the pros and cons of concepts like freedom and control, about what is gained and lost from acquiring both in life, does he truly become not just a better leader for the brotherhood but a better man.

We also see the same from Connor in a single game. Starting as a naive idealist who wants to fix all the world's problems, only to realize that he'll never be able to do so. The consecutive deconstruction of his naivety through each of his interactions with allies and enemies alike teaches him that the ability to judge right from wrong can sometimes be lost in a world that's presently reluctant to do the same. But through it all, he maintains his faith in his convictions and compromises with what's in his control to forge a better tomorrow for humanity. Altair & Connor reach the same conclusions about life, human nature, and their place within the ongoing struggle in one game, a fraction of the time, as much, if not more than Ezio does in three. Yet, more is needed because we've been spoiled and entitled to more than what was necessary with Ezio. And it's honestly this fixation that holds this series back. Whenever we delve into this topic, I never really feel like the underpinnings behind what sequels actually did for Ezio and his characterization are discussed beyond the surface-level shallow aesthetics, or the ignored light-switch motivations that have made many in the community so insistent that every other character must also have this kind of treatment.

[wat-the-cur]

I was thinking about this, yesterday, and I may be about to talk completely out of my arse. Bear with me.

So, we know that, in real life, there is about a four year gap between Kevin Smith and Jason Mewes. So, it is generally assumed that there is a similar gap between Jay and Silent Bob, at least it was in the early days of View Askew fanfiction. However, in the script for “Strike Back”, when they first meet, they are both described as babies. Indeed, while little Harley, who played baby Bob was around two, while the young actor who was baby Jay was a bit younger, I think this could have been deliberate to make baby Bob look bigger. He’s described as a “chubby baby”. So, if Harley’s age was supposed to be literal, and Bob is older, then I wager that it’s only by two years at most. But, it’s also possible that they are supposed to be the same age. Bob just looks a bit older.

The reason I bring all this up, is because Jay and Silent Bob were based on kids that Kevin Smith would see outside the Quickstop, selling drugs. “Kids” is a bit ambiguous, meaning the guys in question could have been in high school, or in their early twenties. But, one might assume that from this description that they were at least younger than Kevin, maybe Jason’s age. Indeed, Jason said that when “Clerks” was shot, he was about nineteen.

So, if we consider that Jay and Bob were based on these kids, then it’s possible that they are both supposed to be younger than Dante and Randal. Brian O’Halloran is five years older than Jason, and Jeff is four years older. So, it could be that there is a similar gap between the clerks and the dealers, as there is between Kevin and Jason in real life.

This got me thinking. What about the cast of “Mallrats”? “Mallrats” is supposed to be a teen movie. While the characters are not in high school, it can be assumed that they haven’t long been out. This would put them in the 18-21 margin.

So, are Jay, Bob, Brodie, T. S., Gwen, Brandi and Rene all a good few years behind Dante, Randal, Alyssa, Veronica, Caitlin, Holden and Banky? Is the reason they all don’t care as much about Julie Dwyer because they were all a bit too young to really be her friends? Is Brodie Jay and Bob’s friend because he’s their age, where Dante and Randal hate them because they see them as annoying kids? Where Jay and Bob ever babysat, or roped into youth activities with the older kids?

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Hell Years Don't Feel Like Hell Years

Hell years is supposed to be different than regular years, but every flashback shows that hell years correspond to the not so distant earth past which is a missed opportunity to have demons have a different perspective on time.

I mean for instance Stolas is supposed to be based on a figure who was there when Lucifer's rebellion happened and is eons years old which would make for great potential storytelling where he's bored with life until this little imp came into his life. But nope...

He's just 30 fucking years old. A figure based on a fallen angel is just a millennial so that Vivziepoop can relate to her audience. Seriously, girl tends not to be creative as a her stans think she is and gives out tons of bad tropes over good storytelling or worldbuilding. And what's even more gulling is the fact that in real life Stolas has centuries of history which is contradicted by making him way younger unless there was an older Stolas he was named after.

And Stolas's backstory in the Circus reinforces that hell years is just a shit concept since we see such modern looking dress and not like maybe centuries past demon clothing to again show how different hell society works in comparison to earth society which is faster.

Again what hell years are supposed to be gets even more muddled when Loona has a smartphone which again couldn't have been made more than before 2007 so we again have it that hell years aren't that long and supposedly hell has earth technically trick down. I mean wouldn't have it been interesting if 22 was really being adopted in the 80's and we see her being a more 80's type of teen then in her twenties be more like a 2020's young adult.

Again the hell years is bs idea is reinforced when we are shown when we see Fizz and Blitzo as teenagers and they are rocking the early 2000's teen look. And again we see how Vivziepoop is just saying hell years is a thing when it's really not. And again missed opportunities for having characters treat decades as if they were just a year or two ago. Again she makes hell too much like earth and it hurts the creativity of this freaking show.

[iamumbra195]

I want someone to write a bleach AU where Ichigo meets Rukia in his early twenties when he's a stressed out college student trying to figure out what he want to do with his life after trying to go down a medical route and not liking it but not knowing what else to do (I'm projecting so hard but we're ignoring that)

The chaotic potential of Ichigo going through his classes and having to run out randomly to deal with a hollow, of rukia attending his classes with him without formally being a student, of the chaos Kon would create

Give me architecture student Orihime that he occasionnaly talks to because of mutual friends like Tatsuki. Give me fashion design student Ishida that Ichigo doesn't recognize because he never bothered to know his classmates beyond a few here and there and Ishida definitely wasn't one of them.

Give me vet student Chad that has like three cats in his and Ichigo's shared dorm that are definitely not supposed to be there but Ichigo loves them. Rukia absolutely loves them as well.

unhinged ichigo fighting hollows the same way he used to fight those gang members in high school because he wants the adrenaline rush. He would probably get on with Shiro a little better too XD.

Ichigo, who started seeing hollows when he was like sixteen after being attacked by them. Ichigo, who has a weird little power that he doesn't quite know how to use that looks like this weird fullbring thing except without the pass so it's more of like a quincy arrow just not the usual blue colour. It's not really powerful enought to fully take out a hollow cause he doesn't know how to control it but it protects him long enough to get away

It's an interesting idea, to have him see hollows but not be strong enough to fight them the way he usually does for a long time until Rukia comes along. His attitude towards the whole thing would be a little different as well.

Also having spiritually aware Inoue, Chad, and Tatsuki but the former two don't have their powers because they haven't been fully exposed to Ichigo's leaking reiatsu when he gets his soul reaper powers.

Having Tatsuki be closer to Ichigo because of this is a nice touch too, cause now the two of them can both see spirits and Ichigo doesn't quite feel as lonely as he used. The two of them having a rekindled friendship makes me happy for some reason and idk, her just teasing Inoue for having a crush on him and like, plotting to get them together with some help from Rukia when she arrives because she likes to tease Ichigo about Orihime all the time

Oh, and her having a water style fullbring that she incorporates into her martial arts and creates something like Fishman Karate from One piece would be super cool too. She just gives me water vibes for some reason

Also, Ichigo not being teen makes him far less susceptible to manipulation from the adults in his life, more mature, and probably less forgiving— that last part is because I want Ichigo to punch Urahara for what he did to Rukia in the SS arc because I sort of hate that he was forgiven so easily like Rukia didn’t even seem to care???

That makes me so angry for some reason. Like I like Urahara’s character but it doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s a shady shit. I feel like older Ichigo would be less tolerant of his antics than teen Ichigo

Idk, it just seems like such a funny idea to me-- chaotic substitute soul reaper Ichigo + College stress and the existential crisis of trying to figure out what the fuck you wanna do with your life = hilarity

(I'm projecting so hard, someone help me, my coping mechanism for stress is escapism and I've missed like three deadlines and there's like two weeks before school starts and I haven't even gotten around to making my schedule yet, I'm dying pls)

[daisychainsandbowties]

Idk, I just don't see Shin being 30 years old??? Ivanna Sakhno is 25, & Shin gives off even younger vibes. If she's in her early or mid 20s, she still would've been a kid during the height of the Empire & a teen when it collapsed, so there's plenty of angsty backstory to mine. Though as far as how an age gap plays out with Wolfwren... well, older women are sexy, yes? ;)

see this is the thing about characters who don’t get to have a childhood. i’m obsessed with the idea that shin hati is in her twenties, somewhere, but she behaves like a much younger person. part of it is the darkside, how it drives you and you end up lacking the composure of most jedi. how the spitting bright anger makes shin so violently luminous, untethered and lost and therefore childish.

because, in the same vein i think that sabine doesn’t feel settled into her life. there she stands, at the end of a war that really wasn’t supposed to end before she did. rebels all little self-sacrificial lambs who don’t know how to exist when they’re not clawing for every breath of air.

everything sabine cared, fought for, for has shattered around her. she won and lost it all.

her best friend is gone, things with ketsu are too complicated, always too many sharp edges for her to hold. and she’s just… stuck. watches her family die on mandalore and then loses her one chance at being something - a jedi, because she is no longer a rebel. not a traitor to her people but still not truly mandilorian. sabine with her boxes of keepsakes, her mother’s hairpin, the pain of death clutched to her chest and that promise she made to ezra to find him again. rotting inside her.

and i picture shin having been made a padawan around the same age as anakin skywalker. both of them too old too broken for it but. nowhere else to go. chosen to be better, stronger. beaten into the shape of destiny, ambition, want want want want

shin rescued, made important, but it was already too late for her not to be scarred by her life and yeah. for sure it can’t have been good, or soft, or safe. you don’t hand a kyber crystal to a child and watch her turn it red unless she’s seen and experienced terrible things.

but i also imagine that she was isolated in those years with baylan - it’s why she’s so taken with sabine!! because here is an equal to her, finally. it’s why she’s at first so smug and then so angry about winning. this blunt creature is the padawan of ahsoka tano?? how dare she be? so like, why not have her be late twenties and just messy messy messy? same as sabine who just… never was a child. first a soldier a weaponsmith and then at FOURTEEN she was a traitor, she watched her weapon kill her own people and she ran, became a bounty hunter. sabine who is young because when you lose your childhood you claw it back in later days. you never escape from the wreckage.

it really speaks to me, actually; they’re the same sort of thing that always washes up in the wake of a war. children who only know rubble and blood and hunger and death. they’re reflections of each other and also so different. shin who just wants to belong to something and sabine who knows that belonging doesn’t save you.

[trillscienceofficer]

The thing about Jake/Ezri is that... I get the feeling that most people look at this ship, and I would gladly accept a correction here, as a way for both of them to have some more 'age appropriate' romantic relationships, which both characters egregiously lack in the show. Which don't get me wrong, is not a bad impulse! (sidenote, I actually think this lack is especially glaring for Jake more than it is for Ezri—I don't miss the couple of episodes where he was apparently dating a woman in her 20s as a teen, as others have pointed out that was a storyline that stank of racist assumptions on the lives of Black boys from a mile off)

But I personally find it difficult to see Ezri/Jake as this, idk, cute 'ideal' pairing, and to me it's more interesting to consider any romantic feelings as... something they're very much not supposed to have for each other.

See, I love the idea of Ezri being the first iteration of Dax that Jake can truly see as his equal, and the way they seem to get along immediately in "Shadows and Symbols", how this represents something unprecedented for both of them even if they just met. They see each other as being more similar than different, and worried in similar ways by Benjamin's behavior. I think that's a really interesting foundation for a relationship.

The obvious rub is that Ezri, despite her nominal age, remembers watching Jake growing up practically from the moment he was born, not to mention having known Benjamin since he was an Ensign. That can't not be awkward as hell. And on Jake's side, Benjamin explicitly telling Jake to not 'even think about it' when he says she's cute at the end of "Afterimage".

So what happens when two young people in their early twenties are drawn to each other but there's this whole mountain of history between them that neither has exactly chosen for themselves? What happens after the ending of DS9, when they all believe Benjamin is gone, and what remains is grief, Jake's devotion to (the memory of) his father and Ezri's decades-long friendship with someone who has meant so much to her and her two previous hosts, no matter Ezri's complex thoughts on the topic of her joining? What happens to them both when the other is just the closest thing to the person they've both lost, but said person definitely would have mixed feelings about the two of them getting closer that way?

(I'm always reminded of "Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon" here, where honoring the memory of someone they both lost is keeping protagonists Li Mu Bai and Yu Shu Lien apart despite the obvious fondness they have for each other, something that developed between them as a result of said loss.)

I just think there's huge potential for very fucked up feelings and bad ways of dealing with grief, as slow-burn will-they won't-they madness, with Jake/Ezri and honestly this is the angle that compels me the most about this pairing.

[royalvelvette]

dance with me, darling

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/F, M/M, Multi Relationships: Charlie Magne | Morningstar/Vaggie, Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Valentino, Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Velvette, Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Vox, Valentino & Velvette & Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Alastor & Husk (Hazbin Hotel) Characters: Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Husk (Hazbin Hotel) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Overworking, Overworked Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Autistic Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs a Hug, Husk is Bad At Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Good Significant Other Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Overworked Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Idiots in Love, Dancing, Self-Esteem Issues, POV Multiple, POV Third Person, Two Shot Summary:

Local quintet need to slow down and take a break, seventy-year-old cat man says.

Read on Archive of Our Own here.

once again breaking up the originally a one-shot into a two-parter because the setting information got away from me. Second part (the sillies dancing) will post either later tonight or early tomorrow morning.

Part 1 under the cut. Word count: 1753

It was finally quiet in the hotel. Not completely, in the way of well-populated areas, but quieter than it had been since... since.

(Charlie didn’t want to think about since. About red red blood, and missing limbs, and still nearly running out of medicines even after Auntie Belphagor had sent some up expressways, and the amount of dead still in the streets when, normally, the cannibals would have cleared the majority by now.)

It was a quiet she desperately needed; too many nights had been lost to passing cot-to-cot while Val kept everything calm and Vaggie was out in the streets, pulling in even more wounded (there had been so many buried underneath the rubble that remained of the once-bustling weapons district). Vox was usually gone as well – his drones made him invaluable when trying to find anyone who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, call out. Velvette helped out where she could – usually upstairs, stitching and restitching wounds when the original stitches inevitably got pulled. She just... needed a moment. A moment alone, to herself, in the quiet, because if it was quiet it meant nobody was hurting. (Charlie was tired of her people hurting).

She slid down the closed door of their bedroom, sighing, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. She just... wanted to rest. Wanted to see Vaggie for longer than twenty minute intervals or however long it took them to fall asleep at night. Wanted to see Velvette stitching new outfits instead of skin, wanted to hear Valentino speak without his voice coming out scratchy and cracking, wanted Vox to be present at the hotel instead of having his eyes in his drones. Want-want-want, what a selfish creature – her people were injured and dying, and here she was wanting things that would keep them from being helped.

... Charlie allowed herself to wallow for a minute more before pushing off the floor. Val needed more water, probably, and it wouldn’t hurt to check in on Velvette and see if she needed any more supplies. Maybe, if there was more quiet time later, she could spend some time with Vox and see if she could spot Vaggie on the feeds.

Husk was only a little annoyed about the fact he had been unceremoniously promoted to hotel manager. He got it, he did – Vaggie was out in the streets every day, the Vees had shit to do, and the princess was trying to help everyone at the same time like she always did, but he didn’t sign up for this shit.

(He didn’t really sign up at all, but, well. Al said jump, he jumped. Even if he didn’t want to.)

It wasn’t supposed to be his job to direct the staff, keep Niffty from causing too many problems, and put out metaphorical fires. He was just a goddamn bartender! His job was keep his bar clean, keep it stocked, and sling booze to order while drinking some himself. Sue him, sometimes he missed being an overlord, but managing the souls under him to keep the casino running smoothly? That wasn’t one of them; and yet, here he was, doing that same thing except with none of the fucking power that came with it.

(And, honest to God, if one more imp got uppity with him about being told to keep the parlour clean so none of the injured chucklefucks got infections, he was going to tear the unlucky bastard’s head off. Something had to be done; preferably before he lost his job.)

Opportunity struck that night, as luck would have it. (Who the fuck was he kidding – luck hadn’t been on his side since the day his soul stopped belonging to him.) But whatever it was, it wound up with Vaggie sitting down at the bar for the first time in two weeks. It was the first time Husk had really been able to get a look at her – at any of them – since everything went down. And Vaggie?

Vaggie looked like shit. Her wings and hair were matted with blood and dirt, the bags under her eyes rivalled his, and she was barely managing to sit upright on her stool – only doing so by leaning against her spear. If the Vees and Charlie were anything like this – and his bets were on yes – it was worse than he thought. Something was going to give, and give soon.

(Alastor would want to know, something in his mind whispered.

Fuck off, Husk thought back. The thought of Alastor anywhere near this place, near these people, made his fur stand on end.)

He pulled some Beelzejuice out from under the counter and got a stein ready. Vaggie still hadn’t said anything, staring blankly past him, but that suited Husk just fine. Getting the drink ready would hopefully let him get his thoughts in order so he didn’t sound like a total jackass.

(There wasn’t really a nice way to say “If the five of you don’t take a break soon, you’re going to end up useless,” but he really wanted to find one. Last thing anybody needed was the fallout from Vaggie trying to stab him when she was too tired to reign in her impulses.)

Vaggie snapped out of her stupor when Husk slid the mug – maybe a bit too full, with how some slopped out – over to her. She nodded her thanks, but didn’t move to pick it up. Husk busied himself with the spill; anything to put the conversation off a little longer. He watched Vaggie out of the corner of his eye as he did; just in case. She seemed fine, and eventually moved to sip at the drink, then chug it down like a woman dying of thirst.

He tossed the soiled rag into the bucket behind the counter before leaning against the back wall. “You got a sec before bed, boss?” he asked.

Vaggie set the mug down a little harder than strictly necessary. “Not really,” she said. “Gotta get an early start tomorrow, y’know, digging people out of the rubble and all.”

Husk’ll give her credit – she kept the unlike you quiet. “About that,” he started. “You... uh, you sure you don’t want to take a break?”

Vaggie snorted. “What, and stand around like you do? No, I have to-”

“I ain’t doing nothing,” Husk snapped, “I’m doing your fucking job since you’re never here. You think I want to be tellin’ imps and sinners what to do? I didn’t sign up for that shit!”

Vaggie’s face twisted into a half-snarl, half-frown. “What, you want a raise? A medal? Newsflash, asshole, we’re all doing shit we didn’t sign up for right now-”

“I don’t need that shit, I just- you guys-”

Vaggie stood up, and even though her eyes were nearly level with the bar, her furious glare made up for it. “Whatever, I’ll – I’ll deal with it, fuck, give you a raise, hire someone else-”

“You ain’t fuckin’ listening to me.” Husk could feel his own temper threading. “I don’t want a raise, I want you to take a break!”

“I can’t!” Vaggie snarled. “If I stop, Charlie’ll-”

Snap. The last of his patience fled with a near audible sound as his legs extended and shoulders widened, wings flaring, yellow iris glowing vibrant against his black sclera. Even still, his voice didn’t rise above a hiss.

“You all need to stop. The five of you aren’t gonna last like this,” he said. “You’re no fucking use if you burn out before you can finish working. And...”

He shrunk back to his normal size, forcibly reigning in his temper. Vaggie was staring at him with wide eye, spear held in a white-knuckled grip – ready to fight or flee, didn’t matter. What mattered was she was silent, and paying attention.

“I’m. Worried about you,” Husk said finally. “You – don’t need to end up like me. You five need to take a break, all of you.”

Christ, but he hoped Niffty was busy upstairs somewhere. Vaggie was still just – staring at him, though the grip she had on her spear had relaxed somewhat.

Then her eye started to water and her face contorted and oh fuck, fuck he wasn’t – he couldn’t handle crying people on a good day. She sniffed once, hard, scrubbed at her eye. Husk held his breath, terrified that one wrong move from him would set her off. He could still only sorta handle Charlie crying, and that was because she cried a lot.

Vaggie took a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay,” she said, voice just this side of wobbly, “okay. I’ll... we’ll take a day off. I’ll make sure of it.”

Husk let some of the tension out of his shoulders. “Good,” he said. “Good.”

Vaggie turned to leave, but then turned back, pointing at him with her spear. “But if you ever pull that shit again, I’ll-”

He waved her off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll write you an apology letter or whatever. Go to sleep, kid.”

Vaggie felt a little bad as she finally slipped into the room she shared with Charlie. The lamp was still on, even though Charlie was fast asleep, book hanging precariously from her fingers. That suited her better than if Charlie had still been awake, but still – she missed her girlfriend, and these moments before sleep claimed them were some of the only ones they had been getting. Hopefully, her plans for tomorrow would make up for it – if Charlie wasn’t angry about them. Vaggie carefully crept closer to the bed, pausing as Keekee lifted her head from her spot against Charlie’s side.

Vaggie raised a finger to her lips.

“Mrrp,” Keekee said, snuggling closer to Charlie but otherwise ignoring her.

Vaggie carefully took Charlie’s book, setting it face down on the end table. Charlie’s phone screen lit up dimly at the motion, then again when Vaggie picked it up. She inputted the password and navigated to the clock app, grimacing at exactly how early the alarm was set for (her own alarm wasn’t much better), before turning it off. Her own was already turned off, and she had done the same to Velvette’s and Valentino’s. Vox’s was a little trickier because of his internal clock, but hopefully – hopefully – he would respect the text she had sent him instead.

Mission done, Vaggie set her girlfriend’s phone back down – this time face down. Charlie was going to be furious when she woke up tomorrow morning, but Husk... was right. They all needed a break – Charlie probably most of all.

[adviserbylove]

I am aware I've been quite annoying about this issue in the past, and for the moots that are tired of hearing this, I apologize. This will most likely be the last time that I will say this, cause at this point, I'm also fed up with it as well. But if I don't properly express my views on this matter instead of arguing with trolls hiding behind a grey ball with sunglasses (anonymous asks), I'm gonna let my feelings bottle up like a champagne bottle and, well....we all know how that goes

And no, this is not something that has been ongoing for me, or I'm still getting shit for this. If I do, I will delete any further asks about this issue. I've just been reminded of idiotic posts I've seen from purity patrol and it sickens me

There is nothing wrong with aging up your f/o

"It's not my fault you didn't grow out of your teenage crush" "....'Cause some people can't let go of their crush when they were teens" "Umm...why do you selfship with X who is 17 when you're an adult?" -- Shut up. There are so many reasons why someone would age up a character, and they don't equate to "Hiding the fact you would be attracted to their canon age". Perhaps they were a teenager when they started to selfship with them and when they got older, their f/o was in a media were they didn't age. Perhaps you fell in love with a character who, without their age being canonically 16-17, you would've taken them for early twenties~. Perhaps those characters have helped you through extremely harsh times, helped you through panic attacks and depressive episodes, and they became people that were very near and dear to you. People just expect you to throw all of that out the window as soon as you blow out the candles on your 18th birthday cake? Why not create an AU where you two grew up together and are still happy with each other? That is literally what self shipping is! Not 'growing out of your crush, and if you don't, that's your problem, not mine!'. That only makes it sound like your feelings towards your f/o is something that can be turned on and off like a light switch, which is NOT how feelings fucking work! Guess I should've gotten tired of my husband that I knew for 20+ years/been married to for 6+ years!

If anything, it would be weird if an adult did not age their f/o up. The reason behind aging up character is because sexualizing minors is wrong. You are not imaging yourself with teenagers, but adults that use to be those teenagers. It's faulty reasoning, because by this logic, college au's of characters that are canonically 16-17 are not valid. By this logic, falling in love with your childhood friend is not valid (which is actually one of my favorite, if not my favorite, trope). Seeing how characters grow and develop is suppose to be one of the best parts of fictional characters, and the fact that some people want to shit on that aspect that one's comfort can bring to them is absolutely wild for me

I've been blocked by multiple blogs, but before I was, they asked me why I selfship with a 17 year old when I'm in my twenties. Before I even answered their asks with the fact that I aged them up and worked hard on planning out what they would've done as an adult/what would be different/what their life was like in our AU, etc. I was already blocked. If you aren't interested in hearing my answer, then don't even bother sending an ask to me in the first place

I was groomed + SA'ed when I was 11 (by five different men, two of them happened to be family members, mind you), have children irl, and two younger brothers that have also been CSA victims. I will NEVER stop believing that it is wrong for an adult to take advantage of a minor. And frankly, you can stop shitting on a coping mechanism that actual survivors of CSA use

Aging up is not equal to sexualizing minors/p*dophilia! All it does is tell me that you have morals!

Again, believe what you want, but I will be deleting any pedo apologists, mean comments, purity patrol, proshitters using this as a trump card, etc.

They aren’t real. They can’t be hurt. They’re there for us to have fun with. So as long as you aren't producing literal CP, you are fine! Just enjoy yourself

[btr-rewatch]

So, like...how old is Gustavo supposed to be in Big Time Rush? I was pondering this earlier because Gustavo never seemed old to me when the show was on, but I probably would have put him somewhere in his 40s. After all, it's established that he was big in the 90s and produced a lot of successful boy bands during that time.

Except Stephen Kramer Glickman was only 30 when the show premiered! He's certainly not playing his own age because it wouldn't have been possible for him to have been a famous producer in the 1990s. He would've only been 20 at the very end of the 90s, meaning he was an 11 or 12-year-old starting to crank out famous bands at the start of his career, lol. The Gustavo wiki page lists his character's birth year as 1976, but I don't think that's an established fact? And anyway, I still wouldn't even buy that since it still seems too young. His career would've been over by the time he was 23. (Unless he really was some music producer prodigy managing bands in his teens/early twenties. Which I suppose is in line with the general absurdity of the BTR universe)

Anyway, all of this is to say that we're probably supposed to believe Gustavo is somewhere in his 40s, which works since he's one of those people who looked older than he actually was. And it's funny to watch the show now and see Gustavo be this big, scary, older authority figure over the guys when there was really only about a 10-year age gap between him and them. He ends up serving as sort of a father figure to them in a way at times, when in reality his actual age put him much more firmly in "older brother" territory. Weird.