#they need to be in more projects together

[dmitriene]

cw: manipulating, not sure about dubcon but might.

college nerd könig, there's nothing typical nerdy about him, no glasses, his vision is actually pretty good, so he can not hide the bright baby blue of his cornea, it's just a simple choice of his to avoid talking to others and busy himself with some projects and works that need to be done, unlike many others, those who choose to hang out all day long and condemn him.

you're sweet, not some popular girl of the whole college or your class, just a one of many that study here, but in his eyes, you are practically the center of the entire universe, because the mere fact that you pay attention to könig's being and chat with him about anything, even the topics that only he understands, is enough for him to become attached to you, basking in your attention.

you don't know about a twisted, grappling idea which scratches against the framework of his mind, forcing him to try, to take the chance to get close to you, to show others that there can also be such an adorable doll like you next to him, getting shy sweetly when he hooks his fingers against your hand or knee, or purrs a hoarse praise when you remember what he told you last time, calling you a schlaue puppe with a crooked smile.

könig get's too close, enough to be the one to hold your tiny strings, he knows that you began to communicate with him not out of pity, but out of sincere interest, and that you never whispered anything behind his back, so he treats you slowly and carefully for that, gently, whispering slipping pet names right into your ear, inviting you to spend more time together, at the evening in his dorm.

everyone that night heard your whiny, keening moans, recognized your voice when you sobbed his name through your raspy gasps and quiet squeaks, innocent requests to be more slower, leaving crescent, scarlet nails of your nails along the expanse of his rippling back, small, uneven scars and freckles, clinging to könig while he pummels your slick, soppy pussy full.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[audliminal]

It's just a game, right?

pt 2

"I just don't see how sitting around is gonna do anything!" Dash argues, face to face with Sam.

"Well, if you have other ideas you're more than welcome to offer them, but we can't just take out the giw. They have more manpower than us, more equipment, and the new agents actually seem to be competent in fights! And we are a bunch of high school students!"

They are all, ostensibly in English Class right now, but even Mr. lancer has forgone the illusion of normal classwork. He assigns books and hands out reading assignments every week, but nobody really cares whether they get turned in or not. The city, after all, has a much bigger problem.

"I don't know! But sitting here-"

"He's not entirely wrong, the longer we wait the more likely they figure it out, just like we all did." As Valerie finishes speaking, the room temperature drops noticeably, and the kids all glance nervously over at Danny who's head hasn't moved from it's spot on his desk. He almost seems dead with how still he is. Beside him Tucker stares at his PDA, the only one who hasn't reacted to the temperature change.

"Should I even ask what you're messing with?" Sam asks, walking over while the others stare nervously at Danny.

"Actually, yeah." Tucker easily shifts so they can both see the webpage displayed on the handmade tech. "I got something through."

"I thought getting stuff through wasn't really the problem?"

"I mean, yeah, they're letting Everything Is Normal posts through, but this wasn't. That. I was, um, kind of fucking around with ciphers and shit? Not saying anything relevant, but just seeing whether they'd flag any old weird shit, you know? And um. I got a video out."

"Okay, but how does that help us?" Valerie asks.

"It helps because if they let a cipher through then means if I encode shit well enough, then it'll also get through."

"But if it's, like, that hard to figure out what it says, then won't it be useless on the outside?"

"The chances of it getting into the hands of someone who could crack it do seem, uh, improbable."

"Not if we stack the deck."

"Wes-"

"No, listen, I know you're all still mad at me, but like. If you can attract a community of codebreakers? Then eventually someone will crack the code on what you need them to!"

"If you have an idea then just fucking say it, Wes," Sam snaps.

"Make an ARG. We can even have like, the base level be completely United to anything real, just make up a story about, i dunno, space travel? And then bury the actual info beneath that. Eventually somebody will crack into the real stuff, and if it's popular enough by then, and the GIW tries to suppress it? That'll be even more suspicious-looking, and just make them dig harder."

"What the fuck is a ARG?" Dash asks, pulling his gaze away from their definitely-just-sleeping classmate.

"Augmented reality game. It's like an unfiction thing. Make a story but the story is interactive and people have to decode shit to figure out what's going on." Tucker glances over to Wes. "And actually not a bad idea. If we all work together, we could probably make something cool."

"You could treat it as a class-wide project." Mr. Lancer says, making everyone jump. "That way I can back you up if anyone starts asking questions."

"Make it about black holes," Danny says, finally pulling himself up from his desk. "We can base it in wormhole theory, and distract the GIW with all the theoretical science."

"What, so like we make videos that seem like they're being sent through a black hole?"

"Fuckin. Sure, why not? As if shit couldn't get any weirder around here."

"Star, please try to refrain from swearing in front of me. I know the situation is - difficult - but I am officially still your teacher."

"Sorry, Lancer."

[systlin]

Hi! I know it may seem like I just randomly followed you, but I’m doing a research project on the Eowyn Challenge and while going through decade-or-more-old LiveJournal, Reddit, and tumblr posts, I came across a post where your mom was Ranger Jewel?!? Please let her know (if you’d like) that I tackle parts of the Challenge every year and that hopefully I can put together a coherent narrative about women, fandom, and early internet communities surrounding Tolkien’s work.

P.S. I also followed because your blog is cool :)

....holy fuckingigng SHITTT

YES, my mother is Ranger Jewel. I grew up going on hiking trips with Karen Wynn Fonstad. Karen Wynn Fonstad taught me to make fandom maps and was the first one to read the first draft of my Systlin stories.

I NEED to text her that there are people doing research projects on this. Wow. It was so normal for me to go on walks with mom and track the miles to map to the challenge that I didn't even think about it. I run almost daily on the same stretch of road from our house to the county line road that Mom walked most of the Challenge on (3 miles, from my parent's house to the county line and back. 3.5 miles from my current house to the county line and back.)

We re-named the little river the road crosses on that stretch to the Nimrodel. We still call it that.

If you've any questions ask me anything you want!

[seat-safety-switch]

There's two reasons to do a cross-brand engine swap: because you're cheap, or because you're filled with spite. I am, of course, both. For years, forum people have become enraged from literally any prospect of putting a Dodge motor in a Chevy, or vice versa. Such an act is sacrilege. It taints the noble purity of the Chevrolet race, and its meticulous assembly by a group of guys who were high as hell on synthetic drugs and kept forgetting which way to bolt the windshield on. I really like making those folks, in particular, very mad.

To leverage my disgusting amounts of knowledge about everything automotive in the pursuit of "those things probably shouldn't go together" is basically the pinnacle of excitement. Why not jam a Rolls-Royce geared high-bypass turbofan from a 747 into a Jaguar XJ6? Does it even fit? How long can you run it for before it snaps your tack-welded motor mounts off the frame and starts flying down the expressway, clobbering Bronco Sports and blasting tollbooths into a fine mist of wood powder?

Of course, as with everything else in my life, I have to be pragmatic. What really drives me to do these swaps is the fact that I have a large collection of motors lying around, and I don't care too much what it says on the valve cover before underhand-lobbing it into the nightmare project that I need to drive to work tomorrow. Making people mad is just a bonus, even if it is a really good one. Soviet diesel engine it is. I'll run it on kerosene, that'll really show Diesel Ivan at the gas station.

Does the average person care, though? Does it impress them? No. I stopped explaining myself to them years ago. They don't think it's weird at all that a Plymouth could hold a Ford engine. In fact, they are surprised that it was ever the opposite case. They're just engines, right? Plymouth got them from the engine store, same as Ford.

In fact, the more we talk about this competition-of-swaps, the stranger it seems to my rational side that I have embarked upon a campaign of harassing the very same folks who could empathize with my odd hobby the most. Just don't ask a professional to psychoanalyze me. Those folks get real competitive when they find a weird thinkin' problem, too, and then I have to crawl out of my therapist's office while they exchange gunfire before I can get to my car and escape. Good reason to swap in a faster engine, come to think of it.

[avcdgrdn]

what if the OG mystery trio was born in 1997 instead of the 50's? welcome to my very self-indulgent AU:

[ explanation & more info below cut 😏 ] ↓ ↓ ↓

my fancy lil' name for the AU is RWFF [ rewind, fast forward ]

having been born at the very beginning of gen Z, this puts the trio at around 27 years old present day! it's a modern AU with a little bit of seasoning to it ...

no bill cipher [ let my boys be happy & un-traumatized ]

by 2014: the machine incident still happens, but stan never gets disowned: he apologizes, ford forgives him & stands up for him when his father gets mad. this allows stan to stay in the house, and he never sets out on his own.

staying true to canon, ford attends backupsmore, meets fiddleford, and does like a crap ton of PHDs until he receives the massive grant that allows him to explore gravity falls. however, since he never meets bill cipher, he never delves into the portal project. instead, he finds massive success with all of his other paranormal discoveries and ingenious inventions [ COUGH filthy rich COUGH ]

all throughout his studies, ford would often contact fiddleford for assistance on random projects. they hung out a lot for sure and got super close :)

meanwhile, stanley's chillin & working with a car repair shop back in new jersey. thanks to ford, his family is really well off, so he doesn't necessarily urgently need to provide for himself. he takes an interest in cars, so he loves his job. he keeps in touch with his twin almost every day [ we love smartphones ]

by 2024: having found such good success in gravity falls, ford remembers his twin brother & extends the invitation for stan to move in with him so that they can work on the stan-o-war together, which he readily accepts. :D

present day: stan & ford are living together in gravity falls & working on the stan-o-war. [ basically what the canon timeline twins end up doing after many more years ]

fiddleford often comes to visit, either for a scientific project or just to chill with the twins. he's also a successful inventor, just in a different font [ he for sure has that manor fr 🤑 ]

the beauty of this being present day is the aesthetics:

ford heavily identifies with the classic academia aesthetic

fidds takes on a 70's artsy-fartsy hippie granola guy aesthetic [ septum piercing & tattoos fidds pls save me ]

stan sticks to street fashion/racer jackets for suuure. he's thinking about getting into motorcycles... he heard that chicks really dig that nowadays.

so like ........ yeah 🕺

who would you date first please lmk 😘

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: It's your first week on the job and you find yourself having to deal with a very angry higher up.

Warnings: Power imbalance, Yelling. Please let me know if I missed any.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

"For the last time, Hansen, NO! We have these regulations for a reason." Levinson was yet again regretting hiring Lloyd. There's no denying the man got results but were the results worth the cost of dealing with the man? He'll have to get some of his analysts take a look. He doesn't even have to ask and he knows Raymond, his assistant, has made note to ask them.

"It's a bullshit regulation," Lloyd argues. "There's one IT person who can work with me, why the hell wouldn't they be the one to go with me on this trip? You've always been okay with us bringing some tech head in case our company electronics have problems."

"Yes, but that's for experienced tech employees," Jonathan intervenes. "This young lady has been working with us for only a few weeks. She is very skilled, yes, but---"

"And she's the only one of your team that isn't a pompous ass," Lloyd sneers. Ari, Jonathan and Raymond all give him a look. "Yeah, I know I'm a pompous ass. It's why I don't work well with those other assholes."

Ari sighs, "still, we can't have such a new employee going on a trip. You're going to take a more experienced IT member or you will take no one."

Lloyd huffs before stomping out of the CEO's office.

The project for the CFO is taking up a lot of your time but you're grateful for having something to focus on between tickets. Working with people was never your strong suit and those tickets can be draining.

Except for the ones from Hansen, funny enough. While you understand why others don't like to work with him, you're grateful that he leaves you be. He doesn't pester you with questions or offer advice that you have to pretend is good. He doesn't talk about his life's story or complain about "technology these days" that you have to half listen to so as not to appear rude. He lets you work, get in the zone, and you can get the ticket completed without feeling drained afterwards.

He seems like the naturally loud and demanding type so the fact that he's quiet when you work really means something to you. And he always follows it up with praising your work. The nickname "Maestro" seems to have stuck with the rest of the IT crew and it's really helped you feel more like you belong. You're genuinely grateful to Lloyd for that.

Almost as if your thoughts made him manifest, Lloyd enters your cubicle and sets his laptop next to you.

"Hey there, Maestro," Lloyd smiles. "My laptop is acting up. Take a look at it for me, will ya?"

"Um, Mr. Hansen, Sir, did you submit a ticket?"

Lloyd's smile drops. "If I did that, it might not get assigned to you. This way we can work around that requirement and spend some more time together."

"I'm, I'm sorry, Sir," you shake your head. "You have to submit the ticket. It's regulation."

"What the hell is with everyone and these damn regulations?!"

"I could get in trouble, Sir," you explain. "If I fix your laptop without submitting a ticket, that's work time that I can't account for. In other cases, Sir, if something goes wrong with company property, they need to know who was responsible for fixing it. If I fix your laptop but the fix doesn't work, there's a gap in that item's history that could throw off future updates. I really don't want to get in trouble, Mr. Hansen." You look up at him, eyes pleading.

He sighs, "well, can't have a good girl like you getting in trouble on my account, huh?" You try to hide your reaction to being called a good girl but Lloyd gives you a look before grinning at you. "Did you like that?" His voice is low and he brings himself to your level so he's right next to your ear. "Do you like being a good girl?"

"Y-yes, Sir," you confess.

He chuckles, "I'll remember that, Maestro." He grabs his laptop and gives you a wink before sauntering out.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82

[q8qwertyuiop8p]

Does Silco Know?

I'm surprised by the number of people I've talked who believe Silco is unaware of what Singed is doing to Vander, that it is all happening behind his back. Here I wanted to go over the reasons why Silco almost certainly played a roll in Warwick's creation, and perhaps even ordered it.

Weapon of War

Silco needs terrifying, never-before-seen weapons if an overwhelmingly underarmed Zaun is to scare Piltover into submission- it's why he has shimmer created and why he instructs Jinx to create Fishbones. It is likely that Warwick is intended to be another one of these wildcards.

Money and Strength

Singed's funding comes from Silco, so it would be difficult for him to hide such an audacious project. Singed also doesn't have the strength to carry shimmer-Vander's corpse away to his lab, but Silco's thugs do.

Holding On

Silco's biggest flaw is his inability to let the past and his loved ones go, and the way he, like Jinx, destroys what he loves. Silco romanticizes the betrayal and reminisces of the time he and Vander fought together. He refuses to give up on Vander, even forgiving him for the drowning and trying to reconcile. Vander has moved on, he refers to Silco as "brother" only in the past tense, but Silco continues to call Vander brother, even after the failed reconciliation and his "death." When Silco finds Jinx on the bridge, he tells Singed to keep her alive, even insists that "she can't die," despite being warned that the process will be torturous and it would be more merciful to let her go. He can't bring himself to do this because he loves her too much, too selfishly, to give her up to death or topside. Would it be that much of a stretch to suggest he did the same with Vander?

Hallucinations

After the explosion, Jinx hallucinates Vi, Mylo, and Claggor because she knows she killed them or indirectly caused their deaths. Jinx's bomb also helped to bring about Vander's demise, and she saw Vander's corpse. Despite this, she doesn't hallucinate him- not until e9, when she is already in a severe psychotic episode and Vi yells his name. Plus, in the concept for her minigun, she has scrawled "THREE LIVES" into one of the barrels. Mylo, Claggor, and Vi, but what about the fourth? It seems that Jinx may be aware that Vander is still alive, but how could she know unless Silco also knows?

So, if Silco knows, why would he talk to Vander's statue and not Warwick?

A- Privacy

Talking to Warwick means talking in the presence of Singed, who we see in e8 Silco doesn't trust. It's bad enough before you remember that not only does Silco say that Vander, who the undercity turned against, was right all along; he reveals that he is in the same spot Vander was in and is going to make the same decision; he is going to choose Jinx over Zaun, the same choice that lead to Vander's downfall. Silco is not going to risk Singed knowing that.

B- Pain

Throughout the show, Silco disassociates from pain, both his own and the pain he causes others. You can see this from the way he romanticizes his trauma, flinches and looks away at the cat being ripped apart, and reacts to the death of Renni's child. You can also see this when he kidnaps Vander- the blank, distant expression on arrival, the way he looks down and away when Benzo dies and Vander is punched, and how his good eye shines on the verge of tears. But he doesn't cry and he never does, because in his situation, to feel pain and empathy is a death sentence- the perfect way to prove your weakness and turn your allies against you. After all, it was his empathy towards Jinx that caused him to love her, and it was his love for her that turned Sevika and the chembarons against him. If killing Vander's friend and knocking him out was that painful for Silco, imagine how much worse it would be for him to see Vander disfigured, barely alive and in a constant state of mind-shattering agony, being sliced open and pumped full of chemicals. Singed had to drug Silco to keep him from going crazy over Jinx's similar transformation. Silco simply cannot bear to face the pain that he puts Vander through.

[hi-sierra]

Tortoise Storytime!

For most of his life, the scale burger lived in an enclosure that was about 7.5 square feet (~0.7 square meters). This is usually way too small- but he lived in a facility that always had someone on staff, letting him roam the floors while they worked on something nearby.

During covid, I worked at this reptile facility to replace workers who were higher risk and staying home. And I feel deeply in love with this lil bean of a tortoise. He was incredibly vibrant and friendly, was so habituated to humans that he didn't even have an instinct to retract into his shell, and was just flat out adorable.

A year after moving away for my PhD, my old boss reached out to me and asked if I could provide a good home to any of the animals. I instantly asked for this guy.

Unfortunately, I absolutely felt like I made a mistake for a while. I quickly realized that, as busy grad student that worked during the day, I couldn't be letting him roam outside of his small enclosure all the time. For the past year, I've been doing the best I can, experimenting with small enclosures, outdoor time, and floor time to best address his needs. But it always felt temporary and subpar.

As a Russian Tortoise, he has a partial hibernation cycle. For some weird reason, his is inverted with the actual seasons. So when he settled down in the late spring and started pseudohibernation, I could breathe easy for a bit. I left him with some caretakers over the summer, who didn't have much trouble with a sleeping tortoise, and went around having my adventures.

But I knew I wanted something nice waiting for him when he started being active again.

Introducing: the tortoise palace

I had several things in mind for a new enclosure. I wanted it to maximize space in my apartment, maximize my space in my apartment, and have somewhat easy teardown in case I have to move. So, I lifted my bed to be about 4 feet off the ground, and made the enclosure under it. The entire setup is in latched-together pieces that can easily be taken apart and set up again.

I've added climbing enrichment in the form of garden bricks, rocks, and multiple forms of substrate (orchid bark as the main, reptibark, coco coir, and rabbit pellets in deeper dig boxes) but I'll be adding more as time goes on. He's been loving climbing around and I can't wait to see what he'll do with other stuff.

It's an ongoing project, and there's a lot of "temporary solutions that are kinda-permanent" in here, but I'll be fixing those over time. Notably, the walls are pretty low- he can't get out, but I have to be cognizant of putting things he can climb on near the edges. If anyone has any suggestions, I'm all ears! But for now, here's the beast, his unfathomable power just barely contained.

Tiny bit of emotion under the cut.

I know this is dumb. But finishing this genuinely made me cry a little.

I've felt so bad about keeping this guy in what I know is a subpar environment for so long, and doing the best I could to keep him happy and healthy within it. But it was always barely keeping my head above the water.

And now, I finally feel like I have a good, permanent solution to it. This design, by definition, will fit in the space of a full sized bed in any place I live in the future. I feel like I finally provided something good for him. I know he's just a tortoise, but I really do love him, and I love seeing him happy and safe.

Idk. It's all rambles. But thanks for loving and appreciating the wonderful critter he is <3

[merwgue]

The A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR) fandom is one of the most divided literary communities today. It’s not just a matter of which characters people ship, but rather a deep schism over how people interpret the characters, themes, and real-life issues embedded in the story. The arguments go far beyond typical fandom disagreements and have morphed into full-fledged debates about morality, trauma, and the human condition. At the heart of these conflicts is the tendency for fans to project their own experiences and values onto the characters, creating new "canon" versions of the story to fit their narrative. What makes this even more significant is that ACOTAR isn’t just fantasy fiction—it touches on real issues like domestic abuse, sexual coercion, trauma, and mental health. These are not fictional concepts; they are lived experiences for many people. By brushing these topics aside or simplifying them, the fandom risks doing a disservice to the people who see their own pain mirrored in the pages of these books.

"It’s Just Fiction" — A Dismissive Take on Real Issues

When people say "it’s just fiction," they’re missing the point. Fiction, especially in fantasy, is often used as a mirror to reflect real-world problems. In ACOTAR, we see characters grappling with trauma, mental illness, abuse, and recovery—things that real people face every day. It’s not simply a story of faeries and magic; it’s a story of survival and the human struggle to overcome deep-seated pain.

Take Rhysand’s actions, for instance. Under the Mountain, he subjects Feyre to what can only be described as sexual coercion, making her dress in revealing clothing and sit on his lap while drugged, all under the guise of "protecting" her. In the real world, this would be considered sexual harassment or even assault. The argument that he was forced into these actions to protect her doesn’t erase the trauma it inflicted on Feyre. Fans who brush this off as a romantic plot device are ignoring the very real dynamics of power, consent, and coercion that exist in abusive relationships.

Similarly, Gwyn’s backstory, though not heavily detailed, strongly implies that she was gang-raped by Hybern’s forces during the war. The fact that this is left as an undertone in the series, not explicitly addressed, doesn’t make it any less important. Sexual violence, like what Gwyn endured, is a topic that has far-reaching emotional and psychological consequences for survivors. Yet, in some corners of the fandom, these moments are glossed over in favor of debating which romantic pairing is better.

Tamlin: Abuser or Victim of Circumstance?

Tamlin is one of the most hotly contested characters in the series, and it’s easy to see why. His actions in A Court of Mist and Fury—where he physically confines Feyre, restricts her movements, and isolates her from the outside world—are textbook examples of domestic abuse. There’s no argument that what he did was wrong. But there’s also context that complicates his character and, in some ways, makes him more sympathetic than he’s often given credit for.

Tamlin was traumatized by the events Under the Mountain, forced to watch helplessly as his people suffered for fifty years. He was powerless, and that sense of impotence likely contributed to his need for control once Feyre returned to the Spring Court. He was terrified of losing her, and that fear manifested in controlling behavior. Does that excuse what he did? Absolutely not. But it provides a context that many readers seem to ignore. Tamlin was also suffering, and he lacked the emotional tools to cope with his trauma in a healthy way.

Feyre, too, was suffering, but neither of them communicated effectively, and their relationship deteriorated as a result. Both were deeply broken, but instead of healing together, their trauma pulled them apart. Some fans take this complexity and reduce Tamlin to a one-dimensional abuser, ignoring the fact that many abusers come from places of deep pain themselves. Others take it too far in the opposite direction, defending every action he took. The truth lies somewhere in between: Tamlin was an abuser, but he was also a victim of his own unresolved trauma.

Rhysand: Savior or Manipulator?

Rhysand, on the other hand, is often seen as Feyre’s savior, the one who rescues her from Tamlin’s abuse and shows her how to be strong. But the fandom’s lionization of Rhysand ignores many of his own toxic behaviors, particularly his emotional manipulation of Feyre.

While Tamlin physically trapped her, Rhysand’s control was far more insidious. He isolated Feyre mentally, ensuring that the only people she trusted were members of his Inner Circle—people whose loyalty ultimately lies with him. Over time, Feyre’s connections to anyone outside of Rhysand’s immediate orbit are severed. Lucien, who had been a close friend, is gradually pushed away, and Feyre is left with no one to question her relationship with Rhysand.

This emotional isolation is a form of manipulation that can be just as damaging as physical confinement. Rhysand controlled the narrative around Feyre, making sure that she only saw the world through his lens. This is most evident in A Court of Silver Flames, when he instructs his Inner Circle not to tell Feyre about the dangers of her pregnancy. He withholds vital information about her own body, taking away her agency and reducing her to a bystander in her own life. The fact that Mor, Cassian, Amren, and Azriel all follow his orders without question only reinforces the power imbalance in their relationship.

Many fans excuse Rhysand’s actions because he’s portrayed as the "good guy" in contrast to Tamlin. But when you strip away the romantic lens, Rhysand’s behavior is just as controlling and manipulative, albeit in a different way. The fact that Feyre wasn’t physically confined doesn’t make his actions any less problematic.

The Creation of a New "Canon"

Given the complexity of these characters and the morally gray areas they inhabit, it’s no wonder that parts of the fandom have taken to creating their own "canon" versions of the story. Fans rework characters’ motivations, rewrite key events, and even create alternate universes to fit their preferred narrative. In some ways, this is a normal part of any fandom; people create headcanons and fan fiction to explore different possibilities within the world. But in the ACOTAR fandom, this rewriting often feels like a necessity rather than a choice.

Pro-Rhysand fans, for instance, downplay or outright ignore his more problematic actions, painting him as the perfect mate for Feyre. On the flip side, anti-Tamlin fans erase any nuance in his character, labeling him irredeemable and unworthy of any sympathy. It’s as if the original narrative can no longer be accepted as it is because it doesn’t fit into a simple good vs. evil framework.

This rewriting of canon can be harmful because it erases the complexities that make these characters human. Tamlin is not just a villain, and Rhysand is not just a hero. Both characters have committed acts of abuse, but they also have their own traumas and struggles that inform their actions. Ignoring these complexities simplifies the narrative in a way that doesn’t do justice to the story’s deeper themes.

The Seriousness of ACOTAR’s Themes

The divisions within the ACOTAR fandom aren’t just about ships or character preferences; they’re about how seriously the themes of the series should be taken. Domestic abuse, sexual coercion, trauma—these are not just plot points to be dismissed as fiction. They are real, painful experiences that people face every day.

Feyre’s experiences with both Tamlin and Rhysand reflect different forms of abuse, and neither should be diminished. Tamlin’s physical control was overt and obvious, while Rhysand’s emotional manipulation was more subtle but no less damaging. Both forms of abuse are real, and both deserve to be addressed with the gravity they warrant.

Similarly, Gwyn’s implied assault is a reflection of the horrors that many survivors of sexual violence face. Her story is not just a subplot; it’s a reflection of the very real trauma that many women endure. Dismissing these moments as mere fiction invalidates the experiences of readers who may have lived through similar pain.

Conclusion

The ACOTAR fandom is divided because the series itself is complex, filled with morally gray characters and real-world issues that demand serious consideration. By rewriting canon to fit personal narratives, parts of the fandom are erasing the very complexities that make the story impactful. Domestic abuse, sexual coercion, trauma—these are not topics that should be brushed aside or simplified. They are reflections of real pain, and they deserve to be treated with respect and understanding. Both Tamlin and Rhysand are flawed characters, and both engage in abusive behaviors, though in different ways. Acknowledging these complexities is essential to understanding the series as a whole, and it’s something the fandom, as divided as it is, must come to terms with.

[toiletclown]

breathless. (part five.)

spencer agnew x gn!reader

only fluff from here on out who cheered!

summary: you and spencer spend a night together, and talk about making your relationship 'official'.

word count: 2030

a/n: this project has been such a labor of love (and obsession). this is the penultimate part, the finale will be posted on fri 9/27

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Spence POV

You had both decided that watching some movies in bed and eating your favorite takeout was the best way to end this tumultuous, heavy day. Spencer knew you were tired, and he fully anticipated you falling asleep mid-movie. It didn’t happen often, you always tried your best to stay awake or would communicate that you were ready to head to bed.

All the times you had had movie marathons together, you stayed the night. Spencer would always wake up in the morning, his arm wrapped around you and your leg over his. You both tended to gravitate towards each other in the middle of the night, no matter how far apart on the bed you were before bed. He cherished it more than he’d care to admit, and he was hoping for a repeat tonight. He put on an extra long movie knowing you would get bored and fall asleep.

While it was sneaky, he supposed he was allowed to do that now. The emotions were out and in the open, and while you both still needed to discuss what that entailed and where your relationship was going to go, or how it would change, he was selfish at heart. And with the lack of physical touch in these past few weeks, he was begging for an excuse to touch you.

“Y/N?” He nudged you softly, hoping you wouldn’t stir.

You didn’t. 

He turned the TV off, and hit the bedside lamp too. He checked to make sure your phone was plugged in before plugging in his own phone on his side of the bed. While it wasn’t technically ‘his side’ by any means, he was sure you hadn’t had anyone else in your bed. Minus maybe Angela. And it might as well be his side anyway, considering he had had his own charger plugged in on that side for months, and it hadn’t been moved. He also had a backup pair of glasses here, and half your dresser was filled with his clothes. Though mainly that was because you stole so many of his shirts. 

Once he had calmed you down from his intrusion, he had noticed you were already in one of his shirts. An old, tattered Creed shirt he had retired once he bought a new one. You stole it almost immediately. He smiled to himself, finally letting himself relax.

He knew the morning would entail a long and emotional conversation, but for now he was going to give into his selfish ways, and hold you tight to him while you slept. Hopefully you wouldn’t mind if he was still here in the morning.

He set an alarm for 10am, kissed the top of your head, featherlight, and drifted off to sleep himself.

//

Reader POV

You woke up naturally, no alarm blaring or construction starting. You took your time fully opening your eyes, the sunlight hitting your face a little too hard for your liking. You hadn’t closed the curtains last night before bed, something you’re usually pretty good about. Hmm. A noise to your left startled you slightly. That’s when you took note of your extremities. You were wrapped up in Spencer’s legs, the covers haphazardly thrown across the two of you. The noise was simply him shuffling, but you had fallen asleep so suddenly last night you hadn’t realized he had stayed.

But, the realization made you quite happy. Your heart started to pick up its pace again, and you willed it into normalcy. You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it. But how could you ask your heart to act normal when you weren’t sure what normal was anymore? Everything was changing. And that was fucking scary. Change is hard, change is painful, but it’s happening. Constantly. Besides, this was good change, right? The kind you had wanted for so long now? Why harp on the fact that it’s change and not harp on the fact that you were finally going to be with your soulmate? You decided to just enjoy this moment, instead of letting it fester deep inside and drive you crazy. 

Spencer’s curls had gotten all messy in his sleep. You knew that happened, you had stayed the night with him more times than anyone else in your life. This wasn’t the first time you had woken up together, your limbs woven tighter than you thought possible, drool drying on the corner of one or both of your mouths because you both slept better when you slept next to each other. You almost always woke up first, and you were thankful for that. It gave you time to stare at Spencer openly. Sometimes you pretended to be asleep when he started waking, so you could hear him whisper sweet things to you while you ‘slept’.

You hadn’t been able to look at him like this in so long, and you took advantage of it. You pushed his brown curls out of his eyes, your touch as light as you could manage, not wanting to wake him prematurely. But Spencer lay dormant, hands under his head as he faced you. His chest was rising and falling in a slow rhythm, clearly at peace. Trailing your finger along his shoulder, then torso and hips, you ran the length of his body. Then you brought your eyes back up to his face, hoping the sun was hitting him just right and giving him that beautiful morning glow. And it was, but his green eyes were shining down at you now. “Hi,” he whispered. His face was lit up, a toothy smile and glittering eyes, the sun draping over him and painting him in gorgeous gold.

His hand reached for yours, a Midas touch. A warmth unmatched blossomed in your chest, spreading and filling every atom of your existence. You felt like liquid gold, and your eyes filled with tears, unprompted. You gave in and let them spill over. Spencer pulled you close, tears spilling from his eyes as well. At least you both knew they were happy tears this time.

You lay in his arms for some time. No words, no more tears, just the sound of both of your hearts beating in tune. The moment was ruined by Spencer’s alarm. 

“Jesus, sorry, I forgot to turn that off.” Spencer rolled over, hitting the ‘stop’ button. He grabbed your hand again, “I was a little distracted.”

“Whatever by?” You cocked your head, feigning innocence.

Spencer leaned in close, and the air was ripped from your lungs. “By my partner. If you’ll have me, anyway?”

He glanced to your lips, and you had to force your lungs to start working again. “Only if you’ll have me, too.” You closed the minimal distance between your lips, doing your best to remain calm.

It was soft, chaste, and everything you had been fantasizing about for six goddamn years. It didn’t last too long, it wasn’t too hot and heavy right off the bat. It was Spencer. And it was perfect. Of course it was.

You pulled back, noting Spencer’s blown pupils. “I probably should have asked before I did that. Sorry.” 

“Consent is important but I promise I am not complaining, Peach.” He leaned in again, smiling. “You can do it again, if you want.”

How wonderful it was to be able to laugh while kissing someone. This couldn’t be considered a make-out session by any means, it was much too silly. That’s to be expected of you and Spencer, though, isn’t it?

He kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you. It wasn’t always the right angle, what with the amount of laughing and smiling you were both doing, but it was still perfect to you. You let Spencer’s hands wander over you, and he kept asking if it was okay when he reached a new area. Your arms, your torso, your legs. He didn’t come too high up your thigh, and he never reached around to your ass. Ever the gentleman, Spencer Agnew was.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass, baby, really,” Spencer breathed, his lips on your neck. You shuddered at the new nickname, wanting to hear it again. “We could have been doing this for years, huh?” You could only nod in response. He pulled back, putting a minute amount of space between you. Far enough that you weren’t touching all over, but close enough that he was still very much in your bubble. You loved it. Especially because he knew exactly what you wanted, often without you needing to voice it.

“Y/N, I love you so much,” he started, “And I’m pissed we lost so much time, really, and I can’t apologize enough for making you wait.” He laced your fingers together, rubbing circles into your hand, just like you did for him yesterday. “But I also don’t want to rush this. We might have been in love with each other for years, at least I have, but this is still a new relationship, you know?” 

You started tearing up again, but only because you were enamored with Spencer’s thoughtfulness and vulnerability. “Good tears,” you laughed, reassuring him. “Thank you, for being so honest with me. I feel the same way, actually.” He kissed the back of your hand, nodding for you to continue. “This,” you gestured between the two of you, “is still us, still our friendship. But the relationship aspect is new, and we should treat it as such, right?”

Spencer nodded, enthusiastic that you were on the same page. “Exactly! I don’t want us to, like, jump right into it just because of the history we have. I want to take you on dates, and buy you flowers, and get to know you all over again. I don’t care how many times you’ve told me about your favorite movie – tell me about it again. Show me your favorite albums again, your favorite TV shows and stand-up specials. I want to discover you all over again.”

The tears were falling in droves at this point, and you were really wondering how you wound up so lucky. “Fucking hell, Spence. Are you trying to kill me?” You wiped your tears on your shirt, laughing. “You’re so fucking perfect. Thank you.”

“No, thank you. I love you, babe. Do you want to get some breakfast?”

“Or I could make us breakfast?”

“Fuck yes.”

//

After breakfast you both decided it was time to have the dreaded conversation. ‘Dreaded’ because you both would rather be lazily making out right now and watching Neon Genesis Evangelion, but instead you had to talk about ‘feelings’ and ‘labels’ and ‘hard and soft launches’. God, dating nowadays was so stupid. Especially when you’re dating your best friend of eight years and you’re both entirely unsure where your limits were because for years there were none. None that were spoken anyway.

Spencer wanted to go public immediately, because, according to him “anyone who doesn’t want to show you off is fucking insane”, but you thought it might be better to wait a little while. You don’t have to pull the long con like Court and Shayne, but just having the office and your friends knowing would be good enough until you both settled into this.

“Then we could maybe be annoying and drop little hints on IG or in videos, see who all catches on,” You offered, knowing his mischievous side would absolutely love that.

“So many fans already ship us anyway, it might be fun to drive them a little crazy with it.” Spencer laughed, bright and full of love, and you just could not believe you finally had Spencer to yourself.

Realistically, you had for a few years now, but now it’s real.

The conversation wasn’t as long as you had expected, luckily you were both on the same page about nearly everything. Soulmatism is just like that, you supposed. After about thirty-or-so minutes, you both had worked it all out and decided another lazy day in bed was in order.

You could get used to how easy it was to love Spencer, and how he made you feel even easier to love.

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taglist: @lokidokieokie @chaoticlizzzzzz @babble28 @starstriker027 @langaslefthairstrand @vc55bughead @kneelforloki @cosmichahn @lisiliely

[thetempleofmara]

My Gol Hah Dov book project!

@99corentine

I have an enthusiasm for hardbound books and decided I want to turn Gol Hah Dov into a physical book.

I wanted to share with you the final project as well as my design inspiration and thoughts:

Cover design I wanted a hardbound book, with cloth and foil inlay like the mockup I made below. I modeled book 1 after Chrysanthe and drew a chrysanthemum for the cover as well as a blue and gold colour scheme.

The inspiration for the border comes from the skyrim artbook as well as the in-game "book of the dragonborn" The dovahzul in the frame is Miraak's quote from the dlc "The first Dragonborn meets the Last Dragonborn at the summit of Apocrypha" (or at least the first few words because I ran out of space, but it's the thought that counts.)

I chose some of my favourite parts of the story to use for key illustrations.

They are:

Chry meets Miraak in Apocrypha for the first time and a mute Miraak slams the wall while Chry is looking for him in the dark (I need more romance to be introduced as horror, thank you)

Chry meets Partysnax, I think you wrote him very true to character (and maybe I just wanted to draw the old boy)

Chry sets Miraak free by using the gol hah dov shout on him and beats Mora's ass with the rueful axe, I loved how all the little plot points came together for this one. ( the shout breaking mind control, the axe cutting a daedric prince, the hints of Mara assisting Chry, you are a genius)

Storm call dragon fight! I always thought storm call is such an OP ability if it would exist irl and is one of the shouts that really shows the power of a dragonborn. And you made them do it twice, such a great moment.

Chry communicating with Mora underwater. One of the best moments, and also my favourite drawing. Also just for fun here are the horrible thumbnails of the art:

Each chapter also has a Chry-inspired decal. I used chrysanthemums for him as well as using the design for Mara from the game, and the main mission quest marker from the journal:

The thumbnails:

The final ones used:

Each chapter has the number in english and the name of the chapter in dovazhul just for fun.

The sketches through the book I initially wanted to make in the style of skyrim concept art, like so:

But the style of the concept art and the style of the book was a bit too different and I felt it didn't look good with the use of red colours so I ended up with a more loose b+w style like the Teldryn one.

For the chapters where you had translations at the end I wanted to make a little dictionary design:

I based this design off the in-game miscellaneous quest markers.

[em-prentiss]

drunk in love

----

Aaron’s lips messily trace her knuckles. “Do you need a ride?” His voice vibrates under her hand.

“Nope,” she shakes her head. “My husband’s pretty drunk so I’ll be driving us home tonight.”

“Husband?” Aaron frowns, letting go of her hand. “Who’s that?”

Oh, this should be good.

Or, Aaron is drunk. And really unable to contain his love for his wife.

Word count: 2k

----

She feels warm inside. It’s hard not to, after a delicious dinner and flowing conversations and good company. Dave’s living room seems to always provide her with all three. Emily feels the heat of a gaze burning her cheek and turns to find Aaron staring at her, a goofy smile on his lips. 

“Hi.”

His dimples are deeper than they usually are given present company, a distinct gleam in his eyes that immediately tells her the reason for it. Emily knows that shine all too well; it doesn’t come very often, but when it does she knows she’s in for a treat.

“Hi.” 

“You’re really pretty.” He informs her, a slur to his words that she never hears in times other than these.

Emily presses her lips together to hide a smile. She’s glad for Aaron’s low voice even while drunk, his flirtations kept just for her in a room of their friends.

“Thank you,” she says, briefly feeling ridiculous for the heat in her cheeks. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” Her hand moves to the collar of his button down of its own accord. Emily smooths it down needlessly, and when her fingers dip inside, Aaron holds her hand there.

“Where are you sleeping tonight?”

His slow pulse beats under her fingers. Emily smiles at him and feels it start to quicken; she bites her lip to hold back a laugh. “At home. Where are you sleeping tonight?”

“Anywhere with you.” He mumbles, curling his fingers around her wrist. Emily grins. Aaron’s lips messily trace her knuckles. “Do you need a ride?” His voice vibrates under her hand.

“Nope,” she shakes her head. “My husband’s pretty drunk so I’ll be driving us home tonight.”

“Husband?” Aaron frowns, letting go of her hand. “Who’s that?”

Oh, this should be good.

Emily can’t conceal her grin this time. “You.” She says, twisting her body to properly face him. His usual frown pulls his brows together, only it’s confused rather than displeased.

“Me?”

“Mhm.”

His pupils are blown wide. “Goddamn.”

Emily bursts out laughing. She claps her hand over her mouth too late, the voices of her friends already dwindling down at the sound of her bright—she hates to admit it—giggle.

An enamored smile spreads across Aaron’s lips. 

“What are you laughing at, princess?” Morgan tilts his head, his eyes jumping between her and Aaron.

“Nothing,” Emily clears her throat and stands up hastily, holding her hand out for Aaron to take. “We were just leaving, weren’t we, Aaron?”

Aaron nods solemnly as he takes her hand. “’d go anywhere with you.”

Emily’s cheeks heat as she tugs him up, his voice now carrying in the silence of Dave’s living room. While Aaron is never shy about his love for her, he is quiet; careful to keep it something between them, even in somewhere more casual like Dave’s. Only the walls of their home fully know the extent of his love, and Emily wants to keep it that way.

Tonight, her wish is far from fulfilled.

“Mm, you said that already,” she murmurs, hooking her arm around his waist because he looks like he’s about to topple—she doesn’t remember him drinking that much—and steadfastly ignoring the hot gazes of her friends.

“Is bossman drunk?” Penelope asks.  

Even without turning Emily can sense the giddy in her voice. She makes a face as she reaches for her purse, knowing Aaron wouldn’t like being exposed like this.

“He’s a fair bit intoxicated, yes, so we’re going home now.” Emily gives them a tight smile as she cranes her head to look at them, not really able to twist with Aaron leaning half his body weight against her side. She catches Dave and Morgan’s smug looks, JJ’s stifled amusement, and she squeezes his waist, “C’mon, hon, let’s go.”

“Can’t believe I’m goin’ home with you.” Aaron sighs into her neck. “’Cause you’re my wife. She’s my wife isn’t she?” His head pops up again, his eyes meeting Rossi’s. “Dave, she’s not lying to me is she?”

Dave chuckles and shakes his head, the gleam in his eyes making her irrationally irritated. “Nope.”

Emily’s heart pinches at the insecurity lining his voice. “I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this,” she says softly. Aaron turns to her and she only barely holds herself back from kissing him breathless, just to prove it to him. “I’ll show you some pictures in the car, hmm? Proof.” She gently pushes away the soft hair hanging over his forehead. 

Aaron smiles. “Y’have pictures?” He asks, looping his arm around her waist.

Before anyone else can say anything, Emily gets her feet to move, channeling all her strength and tugging Aaron with her. “I have lots of pictures. Night, everyone,” she tosses over her shoulder.

“Hey, let me help you with him.” Morgan says, quickly crossing the floor and reaching them.

“My wife’s all strong Morgan, she doesn’t need your help.” Aaron mumbles. 

“Yeah, back off, Morgan.” Emily reiterates, winking at him to soften her words.

“Alright, alright.” He steps back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. When she looks at him his gaze is less unabashedly amused, some genuine concern in his eyes as he hovers over her shit-faced husband.

Emily relaxes a little. “Thanks, though.” She smiles at him over Aaron’s head.

“Anytime.”

By the time they reach the car and Aaron is settled into the passenger seat, the ache in Emily’s shoulder is almost enough to make her regret rejecting Morgan’s offer.

“I just don’t get when you drank this much,” she mutters as she leans over the console and gently swats at Aaron’s unsteady hands, buckling his seatbelt instead. “You were right next to me.”

Aaron isn’t listening. He reaches out to touch a lock of her hair, gently curling it around his finger before he tucks it behind her ear. Even drunk, his movements clumsy, he’s gentle as he pins it back. Emily smiles at him, the heat back in her cheeks.

“Can we kiss?” He whispers.

A small laugh escapes, gentle and secret, trapped in the confines of the car as Emily stretches her body further to reach him. Her hand slides into his hair, gently cradling the back of his neck as she brings his lips to hers. 

He tastes like the multiple glasses of scotch he’d had at some point in time. Emily ignores that, relishing instead in the careful way he touches her; gently cupping her cheek, skimming his thumb over her jaw.

“I missed you.” Aaron says when she leans back.

“Yeah?” Emily murmurs. He nods and she kisses the corner of his mouth, “I did too, my love.”

Even in the dark, she sees his cheeks redden. Emily kisses one of them before settling back into her seat, a dull ache in her lower back. She buckles her seatbelt and drives off as Aaron’s head hits the headrest.

It doesn’t take long before he reaches for her hand.

Butterflies twirl in her stomach as he gently runs his thumb over the back of her hand, then her knuckles, then down the joints of her fingers. “Hey, you stopped biting your nails.” A small smile plays on his lips. He bends his head down, presses a kiss to her healed cuticles. 

“Yeah, a long time ago.” She says softly. “You helped.” Emily turns just in time to catch him beaming at her. 

“I did?”

She squeezes his fingers as they reach a stoplight. “You did. You made me wear nail polish and held my hand whenever I tried to bite them.”

Aaron kisses her fingers again. “Glad I could help, baby.” 

The rare nickname makes her breath hitch. Emily drives off when the light turns green, her heart unsteady as Aaron continues to carefully examine her hand. She feels it when he reaches her engagement ring, his thumb reverently smoothing over the band.

“That’s a pretty ring.” He murmurs, his voice hushed as he traces the diamonds on it.

Emily hums. “Isn’t it? You gave it to me.”

“I have good taste.” He says sagely.

She laughs softly, her heart suddenly feeling fuller than it did seconds ago. Aaron’s breathy laugh joins hers, echoing through the car as he sets their joint hands on the center console. Quietly, Emily hopes he’ll speak up again, but he stays silent, turning his head to look out the window at the passing cars. The sweeping of his thumb over the back of her hand remains continuous, though, and Emily stupidly longs for it in the few seconds she lets go to shift the gear.

He speaks up again when she turns the corner into their neighborhood.

“Mmm, ’mily?”

A surge of warmth rushes through her at the softness of her name on his drunken lips. She tightens her grip on his hand, chewing on her lip to hold back a smile.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Do we have any babies?” He asks.

Emily hums. “We have Jack-Jack. And Sergio.” She smiles wryly.

Aaron scoffs, “Sergio is not a baby.” He quiets then frowns a little, his voice going low. “And Jack isn’t a baby anymore.”

“Not technically, no. But he’ll always be your baby.” 

“He’s growing up.”

Chancing a glance at him, she finds a sad frown etched on his face. Emily grabs his hand off the console, sweeping her lips over his knuckles. “It’s what kids do, baby.”

Aaron huffs as she pulls into their driveway. “Wish they’d stop doing it so damn fast.” He grumbles.

She hums in agreement, letting go of his hand to put the car in park. Emily expects him to forget the topic and move on to something else, but he’s still frowning by the time they walk into their quiet living room.

It makes her sigh to herself, quietly letting go of a promise she’d made to herself a few hours ago. 

“Hey, Aaron,” she wraps her arms around his neck, gently trapping him against the front door. “I have a secret to tell you. I was gonna tell you later, but I don’t think you’ll remember if I told you now anyway.” The tips of her fingers slide into his hair.

“I’d never forget anything you told me.” He says solemnly.

“Cute,” Emily winks, “but I don’t think you’ll remember this one in your state.” She cups his face and gives him a smile, mentally shaking out the jitteriness in her body before she says, “You’re gonna have another baby soon.”

Aaron frowns.

Emily freezes.

“We’re not getting another cat, Emily,” he huffs, his scowl fit for an unsub. “One feline is more than enough, thank you—”

“I’m pregnant,” Emily interrupts, laughing at the way his jaw abruptly drops, “you idiot. Why would I call a cat a baby?” She asks incredulously, a grin spreading over her lips at his dumbfounded expression, the hazel of his eyes swirling with wonder.

“Pregnant?” Aaron whispers. Emily nods and he smiles dorkily, two dimples in his cheeks that she briefly imagines in a smaller, softer face. “My baby,” he breathes, slipping his hand under her shirt and poking her stomach, “in here?”

This time, Emily giggles unabashedly. “In here,” she covers his hand with hers, holding it tighter against her bare stomach. “Our baby.” She says softly, tears misting her eyes at the sound of it out loud.

Aaron’s eyes go glassy, too. “Fuck, I love you.” He pulls her into a bear hug, his arms tight around her back and the nape of her neck. She’s essentially trapped against him, enveloped in the scent of cologne and scotch.

“I love you too.” Emily laughs shakily, stepping on her tiptoes and kissing his jaw. “Now can we please go upstairs? My back is killing me.”

“Anythin’ you want, Emily.” His lips find her hair. Then her forehead, and her left cheekbone, and the tip of her nose. “Anything for you.”

She thinks she’ll be hearing that a lot over the next nine months.

taglist: @kllingdaddy @luhwithah @cheetobreath07 @dontemilyyyyme

[lavafell]

Take my hand, and believe we can be together forever more.

Holy shit, it's been actual years since I've drawn my girl! To celebrate, time for a ramble that no one will read, lol.

Aerith has been my favorite character of all time for almost 2 decades now. Her death traumatized me and despite the fact that it took me actual years to get past the Jenova LIFE fight she never left my mind.

No, seriously, I had to watch her die again every time I got a game over, aqualung is the reason Aerith's death scene is PERMANENTLY burned into my memory!!

Anyway I eventually beat the game. But even before that, I remember trying on and off for years to put my love for Aerith down on paper by drawing her. I tried SO many times to draw her, but it never felt right and I eventually gave up on it. I thought something was wrong with me, that I just wasn't good enough at art or that I just wasn't a good enough Aerith fan.

Smash cut to 2021, and I play Remake! My love for Aerith is only made more intense, and with an outlet for my special interest, FFVII becomes my entire life again. I attempted to draw her more, but again, no luck.

I now realize that my inability to draw Aerith was the result of my mental health issues working together with feelings of being undeserving or too stupid to really call myself a fan. Early this year I cut out the people in my life that made me feel that way, and sometime later I was finally able to get a PS5 and Rebirth.

My relationship with minigame hell aside, I love the characterization. I love Aerith. I've been mowing through the game and plan to Platinum it.

All this to say, I just recently got to see the No Promises to Keep scene. At first the different voice was jarring, and I stubbornly refused to give the song a chance.

But today, I decided I wanted to try drawing my girl again. So I listened to an arrangement of the song in the OG game's style, then a music box cover, and then finally I gave the actual song a chance.

I need to inject it directly into my veins.

The music, the lyrics, the way Loren Allred's voice carries the emotions directly into your heart, they all scream so so much love for Aerith and FFVII as a story. I have my gripes with the Remake project's plot/writing, but I can never deny the team's love for the story and characters.

Listening to that music and looking at both Aerith's OG and Remake designs, I finally managed to draw her in a way that felt right. I nearly cried at having that way to show my love for her.

So thank you, Loren Allred. I know you're never gonna see this, but thank you. You helped me put my love for this character out into the world, and I think this was my first step toward being able to properly make progress in my fanfic.

I love you Aerith qwq

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

Hi, I'm your friendly fanfiction writer from the neighbourhood

Since I'm mostly known on this site for reblogging fanart and figure skating things, let it be known that I also write Yuri!!! On Ice fanfiction.

You might probably wonder what you need yet another fanfiction writer for when the YOI fandom has already all the fanfictions a reader's heart might desire.

In this case, let me tell you this:

Every fanfiction writer has their own reasons to write, their goals what they want to achieve with their writing, and their own vision of the story they want to tell. It makes their stories unique.

I write pre-, during and post-canon fanfiction. My goal is to expand the story of Yuri!!! On Ice and to preserve its spirit in my works and to continue the characters' stories—and that's especially true for Yuuri and Viktor because they're everything to me.

As a canon writer my writing is defined by my Prime Directive (yes, like in Star Trek):

I do not distort canon. I do not make up stuff that does not match the characters' personalities in any way. I do not project myself into the characters beyond the traits that I share with them. Because if I did that, I would betray what YOI is to me and the stories I want to tell in that universe. Of course, developing a character beyond their canon self is inevitable in the long run because people change and whenever I do that I'm careful to make that addition plausible.

If that sounds like your cup of tea, I invite you to check out my ongoing works:

Can You Hear My Heartbeat is my 350k YOI novelisation and the first part of my A Dream Too Large To Bear Alone series. I often call it my love letter to YOI for quite a number of good reasons: It's a character and relationship study of Yuuri and Viktor that takes a deep dive into Japanese culture and the summer of mutual pining. If you love figure skating, kinky!Eros Yuuri and sweet, steamy, and smutty viktuuri moments and if you want to explore what the boys are up to between the episodes that we all love so dearly, this story is for you. There are only a couple of chapters left to post. If you start reading now, you can read the whole story in one go and then move on to the sequel, which I'm going to post right afterwards. And to give you an idea what the continuation will be about: Yuuri and Viktor will finally move in together and get ready for going from husbands to rivals on the ice.

Beneath the Shine of a Thousand Spotlights is a pre-canon story that explores Viktor's life before he became Yuuri's coach. It's a prequel to my series for all lovers of Vitya that want to get to know him and his struggles as an athlete nearing the end of his career on a more intimate level.

Thanks for reading! If you want to get a more detailed impression of how deeply I dive into canon, please also have a look at my meta analyses!

Reblogs are deeply appreciated 💙💜

[eyecan02]

What I Feel Should Be Included in BJ3

1.) We need to go back to the original film's roots. The first BJ film was practically a "bottle" film where the film mostly took place inside the Deetz home. I feel the story needs to come full circle by having the story mainly within that house again.

2.) The model town also has to make a return. The last time the model was mentioned, Lydia wanted to chop it up and burn it, but seeing as we never see the board onscreen again, I think it's safe to assume Lydia just simply boarded up the the attic door once more.

3.) The return of Juno or introduce a Juno-like character. I know the original Juno actress passed on, but one option could be to recast and greatly alter the appearance like what they did with Charles but a lot less mangled. Some backstory on her and BJ's dynamic/specifics on his curse could be interesting.

4.) They need to make it harder this time to banish Beetlejuice. They need to even the playing field, and throw in a curve ball for Lydia where she can't just simply say his name 3 times to send him away. Maybe Beetlejuice can somehow find an object that causes confusion/makes you forget like the Rememberball (sp?) from Harry Potter.

5.) I know Keaton was against a lot of BJ screen time, but since this is the final installment, I think if they evenly spread out a couple minutes of him here and there, it won't ruin the "magic". Random example but Chris Hemsworth only had like 30 min of screen time in the first Avengers film, but it definitely feels like he's onscreen more. Not saying there should be an hour worth of Beetlejuice screen time but maybe 30-35 of screen time spread out could work.

6.) If Lydia is going to willingly marry BJ this time then the two of them need to TALK more in part 3. This time around they can talk about how BJ fell for her, what he likes about her, about Lydia's anxieties, her being at a crossroads with her show being over, making Astrid a priority, BJ cheering her up, making her laugh, BJ also sharing personal stuff and scaring off Astrid's bullies.

7.) Exploring BJ and Lydia's psychic connection. This time she can project herself to him if she needs to, and he's able to temporarily share his powers with her. Maybe a scene of Lydia possessing BJ to dance as payback, but it ends up leading to a playful and energetic dance number where they both end up having fun together.

8.) Delores and BJ somehow switch places where she gets his curse where if you say her name 3 times she gets summoned/banished and gets locked up in BJs old grave. Beetlejuice is now the new "soul sucker" who turns to Rory and says, "I'm taking back every last shred of Lydia you took from her." and proceeds to suck out his soul, burp and says he tastes like shit. Beetlejuice raises his hand and pressed it against Lydia's, essentially returning the stolen "energy" her toxic ex bf took from her.

9.) The wedding actually happens this time at the Deetz home because third times the charm, and because BJ losing a third time is boring and predictable. BUT there's a curveball: Beetlejuice can't leave the house until he can find someone to pass his "soul sucking" powers to (since it would be dangerous for a mortal to be walking around freely with that kind of ability).

BJ is irritated by the turn of events, but says he finally got his bride and promises someday he'll take Lydia to Hawaii for their honeymoon but in the mean time they can get plenty of practice for their honeymoon in their home. XD He then gives Astrid some money to "scram" and go to the movies to give them some privacy and to "come back after the cigarettes part". Then proceeds to carry Lydia up the stairs bridal style.

What do you guys think of my ideas? What kind of stuff do you think is essential for a BJ3 film?

[karlachismylife]

I Need My Love To Be Here

Once again I couldn't help but do the second-most voted choice too. Why am I making my own life so much harder?

CW: fem!reader, reader and Price are married and have a daughter, long-distance relationship, my music taste projected once again, the tiniest bit of suggestive teasing, toothrotting fluff.

(Title from The Beatles' "Here, There and Everywhere")

Dealing with an energized six-year old refusing to go to bed was a battle alright, especially when your trusted partner with his commanding presence and a true Captain's voice wasn't there to help. You couldn't blame your little one for behaving herself better when John was around: isn't a natural law that the one parent that's often away and always comes back with gifts is the favourite one? It's not daddy who's forcing you to eat healthy food every day and go to sleep when you want another batch of cartoons.

It's the strict, stern-looking mum with her hands on her hips as she scolds you gently for throwing a fit over putting your toys back like promised.

Still, you'd want a little more appreciation and cooperation from Princess Price, sulking in her frog pjs - everything was frog since recently, you even got daddy a froggy hat for when he comes back from deployment.

He was away for a long time. Not somewhere dangerous, he told you as he called and texted regilarly, but he was constantly held back by one or the other thing that just couldn't be resolved without Captain's expertise.

That's what made his new phone call just the sweeter, since the first words you heard after closing priness's door hastly and moving to the living room, were:

"Guess who's coming home tomorrow, darling."

A relieved, longing sigh escaped you as you leaned onto the couch and stared at the ceiling with a dreamy smile.

"Good. Someone here needs a reminder how to listen to what she's being told."

"Is princess being a bad girl?" John's hearty chuckle warmed you even through the phone. You bit your lip, trying to save your own face from splitting in two with the horribly wide smile - same was gracing Price's face for sure, you could hear it, his plump cheeks all big and round, almost hiding his happily narrowed eyes.

"Not necessarily bad. But we have attitide and no respect for mummy's authority. Maybe I should start calling myself Captain too, just for her to listen to me."

"I'm afraid, impersonating an officer is illegal, love," he huffed and chuckled again, gruff, big, bear-hugging sound. A pause. "Are you being a bad girl?"

You pressed your phone closer you your ear as a warm tingling flooded your cheeks and held your breath.

"I'd like to report I'm being perfectly good, sir," if only you could see the way his kind eyes twinkled in the dim lighting of wherever he was, sitting on a chair with knees wide apart, one hand holding the famous cigar.

"That's good to hear. I have a little something for you. A reward for being so good for me and waiting while I'm in this shithole."

"The only reward I need is you back home, John," you weren't even being coy, just honest. It was so long since you last felt his rough palms slide over your sides and lock together as he pulled you into a tight hug from behind, pressing ticklish kisses into your nape.

"I know, sweetpea. Consider this an apology gift then, for taking so long," he didn't let you argue a single word, clearly set on having you accept whatever he prepared, as if him being alive, well and home wasn't enough. "Got us tickets to that McCartney concert, love. For all three of us. Gotta start teaching our princess what good music is."

You gasped, jumping in your seat - your heart did a little flip, cheeks burning now, butterflies that never went away even after years of marriage flocking to your lungs.

"But it's so close, how did you even- oh, I just wanna kiss all hells out of you, John!" His laughter dripped through the phone like spicy honey, sweetening already increbibly sweet deal.

"Oh, I can tell, love. Hope you feel the same way tomorrow."

"Why is tomorrow so far away?" You allowed yourself to be just as sulky and pouty as your little one snoring softly in the other room. Of course you could wait another day, you've waited for months already. But now every minute felt like a whole month itself.

"That's so you can get enough sleep before I make you forget about it for several nights."