#this is such a fundamental part of me AS IM SURE IS OBVIOUS

[ot3]

Hi, I started playing Ace Attorney because of you (which thanks, I have been having a blast!), and I just finished Rise of the Ashes. I was wondering if you had any thoughts/head cannons on anything relating to that episode, especially the Skye sisters!

Any AA headcanons you been sitting on? Doesn't have to be anything new, just something you think you might be able to toss out a couple paragraphs for

oh man rise from the ashes.... extremely extremely fucking good case im glad you enjoyed it!

a headcanon i have is that ema was in the car accident that killed her parents... we don't have an exact number on how old she was when their parents died, but she and lana are ~13 years apart. it seems like lana took custody of ema immediately after their parent's death so assuming lana was bare minimum 18 when their parents died, this meant ema was at her youngest 5. i like to think she was slightly older - maybe 7 or so. anyway i imagine her parents were taking her to or from somewhere. i don't have any particularly strong reasoning for this headcanon it just feels right to me. i don't think ema feels like it was her fault in any way but i think she does have survivor's guilt and more important than that being Right There when she died gives her a sense of how easy it is for people to die moreso than it would have if they had just not come home one day

anyway after rfta ema gets sent to live with one of lana's friends who is a coroner in europe - i like to think that this was actually one of lana's exes but ema doesn't know that. i think part of lana's reason for sending ema abroad was to try and keep her away from the shitstorm going on in the LA justice system... she knows ema wants to be in forensics but i think after everything lana went through ema ending up in the stew like she did is kind of her nightmare. for obvious reasons. so i think after lana gets out of prison and ema is A Detective and also Miserable this is really really hard on lana. like she fundamentally feels like she failed ema and is heartbroken this is how stuff has ended up for her baby sister

but then its like this is also kind of a nightmare for ema, who just wanted lana to be proud of her when she can't be proud of herself, and so she kind of ends up mistaking lana's feelings of failure for judgement of how ema's life turned out. like despite ema knowing how much of lana's career accomplishments were because of gant's influence i think she still can't help but compare herself to the image she has in her head of lana as this cool hypercompetent professional, star detective And star prosecutor all before the age of 30. nevermind that she burned out hot and fast after that getting involved in multiple felonies! lana spent so long working herself to the bone to try and protect ema from the world and all she did was make sure that her young, impressionable sister grew up idolizing the kind of relationship to your career that ruins your life

its good stuff. theyre really messy.

[ludinusdaleth]

while people have many mixed thoughts about the off-kilter dynamics of the bells hells, i think it provides a very fascinating dichotomy.

from the beginning, ludinus has sowed mistrust in exandria. he grooms the dwendal line to despise every other country and seek isolationism above all else. he attempted to ensure chaos in jrusar so that it would be too difficult for them to react quickly to the bloody bridge. he banks on vasselheim refusing to take the aid or advice of the grim verity to take out both - the verity one by one, and vasselheim in a massive sweep at the key. but he also is known far and wide as a master negotiator. he helps negotiate the peace between wynandir & xhorhas (after war that he sparked - by working with the xhorhasian wizard essek). he keeps the peace between assembly members - hell, the fact he even managed to recreate the cerberus assembly, and created tentative peace between the empire & mages, is a feat in itself. he knows when to put his pride away and accept help. his very first spoken line is loudly agreeing with beau, a cobalt soul member, over the rest of his war council, and he (almost) humbly asks yudala for the cobalt souls aid, and before the nein ask a thing of him personally he ensures the cobalt soul cannot find yasha as guilty for obann's crimes - and absolutely, those actions are connected. he does everything to ensure he wins but he does it with grace, to the point he - avid god despiser who seeks to kill them all - sees fjords wildmother amulet.... points it out cheekily, and never reports it.

the bells, bless their hearts, they try, but they have barely any trust in them. they were already people utterly traumatized by betrayal before yu betrayed them, before fcg was revealed to be wired as a killer, before everything. they have tried to patch things and can communicate at this point but it is obvious even now they lack two very fundamental things - the internalization of the fact that ludinus is counting on discord to win, and most importantly, the ability to wholly agree on a set plan to a set goal. ludinus races with liliana to predathos with the understanding that he, liliana, & otohan are a team that must work as effectively as possible for a goal they collectively believe in. the bells have that loosely - stop ludinus. but the very road to getting there is rocky beyond belief. imogen is pressured by orym to dig into predathos's psyche just as she realizes she's scared of it, just as orym is losing himself to the soldier psyche, and laudna stares him down as she argues. they believe the end goal of their trust is to simply tell the others they're about to do something dangerous when hardly any of them can process they dont have to be cannon fodder. i am aware of the fact we dont have full vanguard context here, but often i think of otohan jeering at zathuda, an archfey, as she wholeheartedly sides with ludinus over him when the elf isnt even there, contrasted with orym pulling fearne aside to ask her to kill imogen if they need to.

ludinus has seen the rise & fall of so much. im sure he witnessed the selfishness of wizards like the somnovem or perhaps the original cerberus assembly. he took it as a lesson, and that is why he is at the top of the world while vess & trent & thousands of others faltered. the bells cannot often take their trauma and turn it into a healthy understanding. they are literal children in age compared to ludinus but many have a kind of arrested development as well due to their trauma, and it becomes more cruelly obvious the longer their quest continues. the difference between ludinus & the bells functionality is so staggering it is one of the most fascinating parts of c3 to me.

[ottiliere]

hello! ur posts on the vagus nerve and its connections to digestions have encouraged me to do a lil mini dissertation thingy kinda focused on it/around it, ur big thread on PVT and everything really piqued my interest when i read it and i just held onto it for like a year or smthing until like last week when i started the project. Ik u said recently in one of ur posts i believe that ur not going to post the big dirk PVT post and im not here to be like yo post it because i also think u said that ur kinda moving away from like hs/dirky stuff rn ?? (im forgetting if i saw that sorry) but yeah i just wanted to say thank u etc etc, like ive never done an ask before so sorry if this is phrased weirdly but ur blog is just like one of those blogs that fundamentally changed how i view certain things in life for the better lol, like whether its ur beautiful representations / depictions of mental health in like just beautifully painted art (seriously the way u make it look like idk how to word it cartoony/really 2d but then it stands out against the background + if u zoom in and see the tiny pixel details == it makes me mad) or just like the huggeee long form posts that i like to chew on and save cuz theres so many details that AFFAAT like the way you talk abt the topics u portray has made me concious of how i would want to do so in the same way ig u get me. anyway this got really long and idk if i come across coherently, but ur just a random person on the internet whos art and written thoughts that u decide to share makes me happy when i see it == makes me pace around my room and distract me from this fat essay lmao so tldr: i really appreciate what u do + i hope like that ur doing well and that u keep arting and thoughting no matter what it is that u choose to focus on

(uve made me comitted to reading jthm, playing psychonauts and giving jjba w/ dio another go lmao) 🫶🫶

Hello! I’m sorry this reply is coming so late, this ask in particular is very sweet and has stuck out to me.

I’m really happy to have introduced you to PVT, this is something I’ve heard from a few different people on here and it’s very sweet… I did my thesis on it in college and the time really flew by while working on it, things you don't think could possibly attributed to "nerve issues" being nerve issues is always an eye-opener, isn't it? being able to research things that interest you & access information in general really is a privilege in this day and age.

“The topics [I] portray” are very important to me, so it’s heartening when others take interest in spite of the obvious deterrents. A lot of what I love making art about is unpalatable to most, and while I do understand the reasons for that on principle, it can make things feel a little insular. I genuinely believe there’s a lot of value in depicting tableaus of misery.

The last year has brought a lot of very unforeseen changes, and my life is quite different from when I initially made this blog to post about him! That’s also part of why I’ve been so sparse here…though I’m working to change that quite soon. I love sharing my work, and I’ve had the privilege of meeting some truly wonderful people through this website. That said…with where I’m at now, I’m not sure I’ll be posting the Dirk essay anytime soon, I’m afraid.

I’ve undertaken a few ongoing projects, one of which in particular is an original project I plan on sharing publicly here hopefully within the next month or so. I hope it’s something you & anyone else who’s stuck around with me here will enjoy, but failing that, I’ve really enjoyed working on it thus far.

Thank you for the sweet ask, take care, and good luck with your project!

[thewertsearch]

AA: y0u really d0nt understand anything yet d0 y0u AA: and yet y0u bug and fuss and meddle AA: with things m0re danger0us than y0u can imagine

An accurate assessment. Rose is acting on information from the Gods, and it's glaringly obvious that she hasn't been given the full picture. As a result, her plans are flawed and dangerous.

Now, if Aradia would enlighten us as to why Rose's plans are so dangerous, we might actually get somewhere. She seems uncharacteristically chatty at the moment, so my hopes are high.

AA: what d0 y0u want with the s0urce 0f the first guardians AA: what g00d d0 y0u really think c0uld c0me 0f it TT: Do you know about it? TT: The sun?

So First Guardians are created by the Green Sun.

Wait - actually, I think they're created from the Green Sun.

While Bec was being cloned, the screen which originally displayed Nanna and Grandpa changed to a field of flickering green lightning.

It almost looks like the appearifier was pointed inside the Sun itself, which leads me to wonder what would happen if you tried to summon the thing. Maybe some of the Sun's material was teleported into Bec's body, to serve as the fuel for his abilities.

That would certainly explain his astronomical internal temperature - but Bec is basically a god, so he could also just be doing this with his powers.

AA: y0u cant p0ssibly wield its energy 0r put it t0 c0nstructive use

I'm sure it could defeat Jack - although the word 'defeat' falls a bit flat when you're reducing someone to elementary particles.

Using the Sun against him feels like bringing a nuke to a knife fight - it's ridiculous overkill, and will get literally everyone killed.

TT: That isn't exactly my plan.

Well, now I'm stumped. All my theories about how Rose would use the Sun were predicated on the assumption that she wanted to access the First Guardians' powers - or, at least, the enormous energy they wield.

But it doesn't sound like she's trying to empower herself, or convert the Sun into a weapon. What can you do with the Sun that doesn't qualify as 'constructive use', but does contribute to killing Jack?

Well, I suppose she could corrupt it. Maybe the gods want her to transmute it into the Black Sun, and create some eldritch First Guardians to fight Noir.

That said, they'd be hard-pressed to create a Guardian who's more corrupt than Doc Scratch.

AA: y0u w0nt find it either AA: its imp0ssible

The Sun is implicitly connected to every First Guardian, so it's unlikely to be in any specific session. I don't think there are multiple instances of it, like Skaia, because it's not supposed to be an official part of a session in the first place; Rose had to essentially datamine Sburb to learn about it.

I assume, then, that the Sun is somewhere more fundamental than any specific Medium instance. It's probably in intersession space - perhaps even beyond the Furthest Ring.

AA: im thr0ugh with c0nsci0usly c0ntributing t0 inevitable 0utc0mes TT: Well, TT: Aren't you doing that regardless? Right now? AA: 0bvi0usly AA: but im just talking [...] AA: maybe if i behave in a manner s0 rand0m AA: parad0x space w0nt kn0w h0w t0 handle it! AA: blah BL00P blee BLUH!@#$%^&()_+ AA: didnt see that 0ne c0ming did y0u pspace??? + ?rand(413^612)

Well, I don't think you can break predestination with a run-of-the-mill pseudorandom number generator - but I do like where your head's at. Probability might just be the key to fighting fate.

I mean, Vriska is apparently able to alter probability - despite the fact that all Alpha Timeline outcomes should be set in stone.

What's up with that?

[mcl38]

Are you ready to admit he bottles lr are srkll delusional

hello everyone welcome back to me replying earnestly to anons that are clearly sent in bad faith <3 this is the kira show glad u could join us

anyways! so like yeah sure whatever hes a bottler i cant respond to the latter part of the anon bc i genuinely dont understand it

but im weirdly (uncharacteristically?) not mad at the sprint start bottle? i famously suffer psychosomatically in a Bad way when lando fucks up (see: me retching into a toilet and sobbing on the floor post-sochi) but w this one i got over it so quickly? im honestly a bit more upset abt how bad our drs speed is we literally wouldnt even b able to overtake an alpine on the straight at this point

anyways. i think the reason im not mad is bc landos actions make sense logically to me? like fundamentally this move is uncharacteristic for him - he hasnt 'bottled' it in this way since arguably spain 2023 but not even then bc that wasnt desperation, it was just a not-great start and hamilton low-grip wiggling directly into his front wing (rip). the last good handful of times he started in a high position hes really (to my knowledge) done alright for himself, even surprisingly well considering he used to be kinda bad at starts. so like while in the Great Bottle Narrative this is gonna b added to the track limits fuckups and whatever, i see it as quite a separate event

so the question is, why was he desperate now when he tends to be cautious and clean in starts usually? well, it seems obvious to me - the only way this sprint couldve been of any importance to lando is if he won. if not, like, the difference between the 3 points he got and the 7 points hed have gotten for p2 is literally almost nothing at all, especially considering he still finished in front of his teammate, and ESPECIALLY considering mclaren doesnt seem to b in any constructors race at this point in the season, just stuck in no-mans-land p3 with huge gaps in front and behind. so the fact that he pulled a checo-in-mexico hero move into that corner doesnt surprise me at all bc he rly (as long as he kept his car intact, which he did) had very little to lose and a (small, but real) chance to win.

so like. even if im totally wrong and it was an instinct move and just his Bottler Tendencies, im quite happy hes doing the bottling thing when it Doesnt matter and showing up when it Does. maybe hes getting it out of his system idk but i can live w that

if u dont agree thats ok maybe i rly am lr are srkll delusional<3 love u bye

[zukkacore]

Hi do you. By any chance want to expand on both 1) Sorcerer Wizard and the dichotomy and 2) Sorcerer trans thoughts??? Bc BOY I would LOVEEEEE to hear them if you’re willing to!!!

Hiiiii beloved old man yaoi mutual anyway sorry this took a hot sec bc I do have more thoughts on this but tragically they’re kinda formless and incoherent. Prepare for the unorganized paragraph monster. Anyway I’m like pretty bad at understand dnd as a system but I have seen other ppl who are actually better versed than me express like. A sorcerer / wizard multi class is pretty counterintuitive. And like, if that’s part of the character arc that’s fine, obviously with Gorgug it was an intentional character choice and they made a profound point of of him doing unexpected and not typically “optimal” just bc he liked it & bc of that he has a perspective on rage AND artificing different from everyone else. Idk if im over explaining the obvious with the like, oh wizardry is abt understanding the fundamentals and components of the arcane it’s abt studying the world whereas sorcery is abt control and understanding of the self etc etc. like described as the ability to “project one’s will” into the world and the meta magic mechanic is a way to actualize like. Being able to literally change the rules of magic (honestly very interesting and cool imo).

Like, I don’t think they HAVE to be opposed in terms of what they’re doing, if you think abt it like. Art rules ya know? Like you gotta learn the fundamentals and the rules before you can break them. So I could see that being a reason to study wizardry. And if your character just has a natural curiosity than sure. But also, I GET the reason why it’s an impractical build and a weird choice for a character beat bc the drawbacks of losing high level sorcery aren’t really compensated for in getting some wizard levels. Esp bc they’re different casting modifiers or whatever, int vs charisma. Like you have to have a high modifier in both to even make it worth it. AND on a character beat level, not to make this JUST abt our favorite sopping wet cat Jace stardiamond but like. Wouldn’t it be kinda counterintuitive to learn all these rules and fundamentals of magic and everything in those classes is saying THIS is how it works meanwhile there is something inherent in you that could change that? And I was like oh haha trans bc it’s abt saying like oh something essential is actually less rigid than you think + projecting your will is in my mind kinda like the ability to self-determine?

At the same time the counterpoint to this is that sorcery is about inherent magic so that IS like oh this is essential to your person. At the same time I feel like the distaste toward sorcerery bc it’s inherent or essential is kinda unfair bc like? Yeah divine right is not real, someone being inherently divinely powerful is not a thing in real life but also how different is that from the divine right of being a chosen one for a deity (like. Not to go toooo into fantasy high but Kristen IS a chosen one). So I get the counterpoint that sorcerery is bad and essentialist but eh? Like take it for what it represents on a thematic level, don’t take it so literally.

Not to backtrack but I don’t think self knowledge vs worldly knowledge HAVE to be fundamentally opposed, but I do think one class transitioning into the others would be really difficult bc it’s someone learning a system and realizing actually it’s bullshit and broken & malleable vs. someone who intuitively GETS that rules are kinda just made up and the education system is saying no this is truth. Despite everything about you being a contradiction to that. Like, I feel like a sorcerer is coming into low level wizardry learning “you can’t do 1 - 2” and intuitively they go but you can? But at that level it’s like no, you’re not ready to teach someone just being introduced to those concepts abt negative numbers abt imaginary numbers etc etc etc. (similar w biology. Like yeah we all took 7th grade bio where we learned there are 2 sexes. But actually the human body a lot more varied & complicated than that. These are rigid categories we made up to “better” understand things or articulate a certain idea but they also cause systemic harm) Also. There are some particles that behave differently when observed. Science is weird and contradictory sometimes & there’s a lot of stuff that was believed to be true and gets kinda reassessed w more data. I respect the wizard’s quest for knowledge as someone who is a turbo nerd. I respect it so hard. But also. I get why riz spirals abt it. It’s hard to be bleem coded and love complete taxonomies when you know the world is a lot more complicated than that. I get why a sorcerer wouldn’t be able to hack it. Again not to make this abt blorbo from our shows but the failed to wizard multiclass thing opened SUCH a can of words in my brain…..

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter X: It’s All Hate And Money

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | chapter ix

summary: an idea is proposed by your label that you’re not sure you want to take part in, especially given the circumstances.

tags: hurt/no comfort but barely, angst, fake dating, slow burn, idiots in love, mutual pining, mutual heartbreak, these two are so stupid sometimes it hurts

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long and it’s still not very long, but it DID inspire me to keep going! also yeah, ofc i brought the angst back. bc that was the whole plot. just stupid ppl that cannot communicate right now bc they r afraid!!! also if any of my links are broken pls let me know, im trying to fix them but they decide to work half the time?? Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

——

July 1986

The breeze is refreshing, despite it blowing your hair into your face. Eddie sits next to you, hands behind his head as he lay in the sun. He’s showing off his tattoos, including the one he’d gotten from you last month, your initials in your handwriting scratched neatly above his hip. In front of you, Robin and Steve splash each other in the lake, both of them shrieking and laughing as the cool water hits their faces. Your heart is full, spending the weekend at Steve’s parents’ unused lake house with your closest friends. Nancy and Jonathan arrive tomorrow, and the five of you have plans to roast marshmallows and sing songs like in all those cheesy horror movies. You could do this every day for the rest of your life, and be perfectly happy. You know Eddie doesn’t feel that way, he gets restless in places so still, and you have this deep, irrational fear that his urge to keep moving will end up being your downfall. But right now, that’s a non-problem. You return to your book, The Harlequin’s Son, as Eddie cranks the boombox up another few notches to blast Beach Boys Surfin USA.

—

Present Day

Eddie’s POV

“Eddie! Is Sweetheart about Y/n?” “Was Pretty Boy written about you?” “How long have you and Y/n been together?” “Eddie, where’s Y/n?” The questions are hurled at him by fans and journalists alike as he enters the venue, cameras flashing in his face as Steve tries to shield him.

“We have no comment at this time, thank you! Bye!” Steve shoos the mob as well as he can manage, holding his hand out in front of photographers. Eddie keeps his head down, saying nothing as the door swings open for him and his band.

“Hey, they’ll let it go, it’s just fresh right now.” Steve reassured him, a comforting hand landing on his shoulder.

“It’s not them I’m worried about.” He looks around, every backstage of every venue looks the same to him, but you’re in the wings, lugging your guitar and amp to the stage as crew members set up pedal boards and wires. You look up then, and offer Eddie the smallest of smiles that he returns with a shy wave.

“I’m sure Y/n is fine, too.”

“You haven’t talked to them?”

“I’ve been busy with your temperamental ass!” Steve jokes, nudging him. “Besides, they’re a lot stronger than you think.”

“Hey. I know that. You think I don’t know that? We were together for like, four years. That isn’t my point.” It’s his turn to be defensive. He’s never doubted your strength, it’s your temper he’s concerned with. You’re not one to shy away from chewing someone out for a wrong assumption.

He looks from Steve back to you, watching as you chat with a crew member about something. You’re in plain jeans and a tight black t-shirt, your hair tied on top of your head haphazardly.

He feels a second nudge. “Stare more, would ya?” Robin’s appeared on Eddie’s other side.

“Who’s staring? I’m not staring.”

“And I’m not a lesbian. Try to blink, you’ll look less obvious.” Her smirk makes his eye twitch. “Or, y’know. You could just go say hi. Like friends do.”

“Seriously? You’re giving me shit about this too?” Eddie groans, craning his neck to the ceiling in irritation.

“Of course I am! If you guys are gonna do this dance the whole time we’re touring, I'm gonna get my jokes in!” This causes Steve to snicker.

“Listen, I’m only gonna say this once. Y/n and I are adults. You two are being so immature about this. There is absolutely nothing else between us, okay? Nothing.” Steve and Robin exchange a look, and begin to giggle again. “Cut it out!” Eddie whines, then startles when he feels a light tap on his shoulder. He turns around to find you, sparkly eyed with a tight smile on your lips.

“We need to talk.”

—

Your POV

You don’t mention what you’d heard from Eddie’s lips, but you feel your heart sting a little. Nothing else between us? Bullshit. But now isn’t the time to call him out on it.

“What’s up?” Eddie leans against the doorframe of the dressing room, arms crossed casually.

“I just got a call from my label. They, uh, saw the magazine article.” You keep your voice low, not wanting to alert your gaggle of friends hanging out inside the dressing room. “They want us to play into it.”

“Play into it?” Eddie quirks an eyebrow teasingly. You’re sure he knows exactly what you’re talking about, but he wants to hear you say it.

You groan. “They want us to be seen together more, out in public. Hold hands and shit.”

“They want us to date for publicity?”

You shrug. “Pretty much.”

“Do you want that?” He sounds sincere, even concerned.

“I don’t know if I have that choice.”

Eddie straightens his posture. “You always have a choice. It’s your life, regardless of what your label wants you to do.”

You sigh. He means well, you know that, but it would be so much more added stress to fight with executives while on tour. “Well, what do you think?”

“You know I’m always down to play tricks on the public,” he laughs, “and if you don’t mind being around me all the time, I’ll definitely do it.” You can’t get a read on him. If he doesn’t have feelings for you, why would he want to pretend?

“Okay. Then let’s play some tricks, yeah?” You offer your hand, and he stares. “You’re supposed to shake it.”

He blinks his stare away, and grasps your right hand in his. “Let’s do it.” He nods, and you can’t help but smile.

—

Your anxiety is skyrocketing tonight. With the added weight of this dating scheme, you barely have the mental capacity to make it through soundcheck.

“Are you okay?” Robin approaches you when you fumble the chords to Pretty Boy again, wincing as you sing the lyrics you’d written so many years ago.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even Steve.” You’re whispering, even though you really don’t care if your bandmates find out. But Steve will try to protect you, probably going as far as making a scene in front of the label execs if he deemed necessary, and that was way too much to deal with right now.

“Consider my lips locked.” Robin makes a point of zipping her lips, locking them, and tossing the imaginary key behind her shoulder. You fill her in on your plan, not mentioning your nerves or feelings the entire time.

“And you think this is a good idea?” She asks when you’ve finished your rant. She’s not saying it to bite, she genuinely seems worried for you.

You shrug. “Probably not, but DDA is still new, we could get kicked off the label if we object to them this early. And they talked to CC’s agent already, so we pretty much have to do it.”

“But, what if you get the feelies again? Or worse, what if you don’t get the feelies, and now you’re lying to the world and to yourself?”

“First of all, feelies, Robin? Are we twelve? And secondly, I know. I'm screwed either way. Eddie already said he didn’t have feelings for me, so it’s not like-“

Robin interrupts you, waving her hand frantically. “When did he say that?”

“I overheard him talking to you and Steve earlier. ‘There is nothing else between us. Nothing.’.” You mimic Eddie’s gruff voice as you quote him, warning a chuckle from your bassist.

“You know that’s like, total bullshit, right?”

“No, I don’t! I can’t figure him out anymore, and frankly I don’t see why I have to.”

Robin pinches between her eyes like a disappointed mother. “You don’t. But you should figure your own shit out. Might be healing.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. This could totally be my undoing, I am very aware. But this could also be the push I need to make a decision. Either I’m over him, or I’m not.”

Robin pats your shoulder lovingly. “Okay, babes. Whatever you want. But maybe stop thinking about it until after we rock the shit out of this place, okay?”

You nod, finding the first chord again, and playing it perfectly. “Right. Let’s do this shit.”

—

Eddie’s POV

He taps his foot along anxiously with the house music, currently Blind Melon’s Tones of Home. His pen bounces up and down frantically in his hand, tapping against his frayed leather bound journal. A melody has been stuck in his head all day, but he can’t bring the words to match it. He’s about to throw in the towel when he feels another presence in the room.

He glances up, and his eyes meet with yours in the mirror. He whips his head around, startled by your stealth. “Hey, sw- hey, you.” He chuckles, feeling his cheeks heat up at the slip up. “Sorry, practicing.”

You shake your head, a small smile on your lips. “Hey. I wanted to be the one to tell you, there’s a lot of press here tonight. I heard Rolling Stone might try talking to you.” Your voice shakes slightly as you deliver the information.

Eddie is far too used to the overwhelming amount of public attention that comes with being a successful musician. It’s something he can’t stand, and you know that well. Nosy reporters were a huge reason he didn’t like when you would go on tour with him when the two of you actually were together. He was insistent on you not being seen with him, because he didn’t want them twisting your image. It was a selfish thing, Eddie realizes now. You are more than capable of taking care of yourself, but Eddie didn’t want to share you with the world. You were his to protect, and only his to be in love with.

But the world is falling in love with you now, for something you had created without him, and he feels all the pride for you in the world. Every day he wishes he’d been more supportive. Maybe this is his second chance?

“Thank you for the warning.” Eddie answers after a beat too long. You nod your head once, and pivot to leave the room when Eddie hears himself call, “Wait!” You turn to him again, waiting for him to continue. “You, uh, you think you could help me with something?” Eddie’s shy again, suddenly, like he’s back in high school asking you to go to prom with him. And he wasn’t even shy when he asked you to prom.

“Sure, what is it?” You walk deeper into the room, and Eddie moves aside to make room at the small vanity mirror. He slides his open journal toward you, where the page is littered in words crossed out, rewritten, and crossed out again. He snatches his guitar from where it leans against the wall, throwing it over his lap in a swift motion, despite the tight space.

“I have had this thing, this melody stuck in my head all day, and I either need to know if I came up with it, or if I’m remembering it from somewhere.”

He finds the first notes, fingering the strings expertly to a twinkling melody.

—

Your POV

You are really trying to focus on the song he’s playing. It does sound familiar to you, but you can only hear it like this, unfinished and on the fly. You squeeze your eyes shut in concentration, really focusing on the way the song flows together, trying to put words to it that escape you.

Until you figure it out. Your eyes fly open, wide as the memory comes back to you with full force. “Oh my god.” You throw a hand over your mouth.

Eddie stops suddenly, and looks back to you in the mirror. “Shit, is this someone else’s song? I thought I had something really fuckin’ good here!”

“No, no. Well, yes and no.” Eddie raises an eyebrow at your confusing response. “It, uh. That’s the song we wrote together. Like, right after graduation, when we went to Steve’s lake house. You played it on that really gross acoustic guitar that was in the garage, the one we found when we were—“ You don’t finish the sentence, knowing the raunchy turn the story takes. “Anyway, we started fuckin’ around with it, ‘member? And you came up with that—“ you point lazily to his guitar still in his lap, “but we never put words to it, we kinda just forgot. That is insane.”

—

Eddie’s POV

The memory washes over him, like a tidal wave pulling him under. You’d had the guitar in your lap, strumming lazy chords as you tuned the old, barely usable guitar that had belonged to Steve’s mother in another life. He remembers how hot that day had been, a record breaking heatwave baking the entirety of the midwest. Your hair was piled high on your head to keep it off your sticky skin, glimmering with perspiration. You wore only a bikini top and shorts, feet bare and dirty with the mud of the backyard. He’d stolen the guitar from you, plucking the same chords he’d just been playing, You’d started humming, then eventually singing, to his music, a soft smile on your face as your eyes closed, focusing on the way the two sounded together. He remembers everything else about that night, too, from the clumsy sex in the shed to the bonfire surrounded by his favorite people.

He finally turns around, his head purposefully craned up to avoid being eye level with your chest. The space between you two is small, and he feels his heart rate quicken. “Oh, shit.” Is all he says, being rendered speechless by the discovery.

“No, I mean, it’s okay! It’s such a pretty tune it’d be a shame if one of us didn’t use it. You should!” He can’t help but hear the slight disappointment in your voice, like you feel something was taken from you, by him. The idea comes almost as quickly as the memory had. “What if we just, put the song out?”

You place a hand on your hip. “What, like as a duet?”

Eddie nods, feeling the hope take hold in his chest. “Yeah! Yeah, we could write it, record it when we stop in New York maybe, or even after the tour if you want. And the suits would eat it up, too. Especially with this whole thing we got goin’ on,” He gestures to the space between your bodies.

“Oh. So this would be like, a money grab for you?” The hurt is clear in your wavering voice, and Eddie’s smile is wiped from his face.

“No, of course not.”

“No, right, but it’s a nice little extra. Have your cake and eat it too, right?” Wrong. So wrong, but what is Eddie supposed to do? Now is not the time to be confessing that he’s still completely enamored with you, head over heels in love. It’s so unfair to you, to both of you, to put that out there right this second.

“I mean, if you wanna look at it like that, yeah. The extra money would be nice. But it would also be cool just to work with you again. For real this time, as friends.” He’s praying it’s a good enough save.

You shrug. “We can try, but I’m not confident in our ability to work together.” There’s a bite to your words, and Eddie winces. “But I gotta go, we’re on in an hour.” You turn, and leave the room with an extra sense of urgency.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie puts his guitar down, and throws his head into his hands.

—

Your POV

You angrily wipe the tear that’s escaped from your tear duct, annoyed with your own sensitivity. You’re absolutely overreacting, but the pain in your throat threatens to suffocate you if you don’t immediately do something about it.

And so, with nothing else running through your mind besides Eddie, the memories of him contrasting deeply with who he’s become, you stomp past your bandmates as they put the finishing touches on their makeup and hair, you slam the bathroom door behind you. You’d swiped the scissors from Harley months ago, and keep them in your toiletries bag for things like this. You grab a fistful of your hair and chop, not stopping to measure the length. You repeat the ritual on the other side, and again across the front of your face. When you’re finished, your hair looks like you lost a bet, your eyes are puffy from crying, and a string of snot has fallen down your face. You wipe it with your sleeve, and quickly change into the outfit hanging up on the towel rack: black sheer tights and a baby pink lingerie nightgown you’d thrifted in Montreal. You throw your leather jacket over it, do your makeup haphazardly as you hold the rest of your tears in, and apply an excessive amount of deodorant. You step out of the bathroom, and are immediately met with the horrified looks of your friends.

“What did you do?!” Sylvie throws their hands over their mouth in shock, and Lilith’s jaw unhinges as she gasps.

You shrug. “Needed a change. Now let’s rock the shit out of this place, huh?”

Your bandmates move to leave the room, not about to engage with your suddenly erratic behavior. You’re grateful for their silence, knowing you probably look ridiculous. This will give the press something else to talk about.

The noise of the crowd grows louder as you approach the wing. “Alright guys, go out there and-“ Steve cuts himself off as his eyes scan over you. “What the hell happened?”

Robin is quick to speak. “They’re fine. Don’t worry about this right now.”

“Right, but there are so many cameras out there, and I-“

“Steve!” Robin interrupts, shaking her head. “Not. Right. Now.”

Steve surrenders, lips tight. “Okay. Right. Go kick some ass!” He hugs each of your bandmates before they go on stage. When he gets to you, he rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, and pulls back when he discovers you’re shaking. “Are you alright?”

“Later.” You say shortly. More words about the subject will make you cry again. “I promise.”

“Okay. I love you. Do your thing.” He brings you into his hug, and you relish in your best friend’s warmth for a few seconds too long. The crowd is losing their minds.

“Okay, I gotta go.” And he lets you go. You walk onstage, and are blinded by the stage lights. The crowd never falters, even after seeing your new abomination of a haircut that Harley will surely kill you for later. Cameras flash from all corners of the room while fans whoop and holler for your band.

“What the fuck is up, Portland?!” You scream into the mic, and the answer is thousands of screams in your direction. “I just cut my hair in the bathroom, let’s fuckin’ party!” Lilith clicks her sticks together to count you off, and you launch into the first song of your set.

—

chapter xi

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @littlepotatobeansworld @ghost-proofbaby @poisonedluv | send a message to be added🫶

[raspberrysmoon]

Rant about sasi to me !

Plspldsplslls

thank god someone loves me i was about to start sad posting /hj

so. im thinking specificiakly abt janus and logan rn. mostly janus cuz i just rewatched svs redux.

what the FUCK is janus doing ever. thats my question. push the season finale or wtv it is back another six years and give me six janus videos and im happy. is he genuinely just .like that? is lying fun to him, or is it fundamental to how his body and brain operate? how far do the scales go?

what exactly does he do? ofc patton is the heart/emotions/empathy/morals, logan is the logic/brain/etc, roman is love/creativity/passion- why is janus just a liar? of course we see him taking care of thomas mentally and physically in svs and svsr, but is that inherent to him as a side? or did he see a problem and decode somebody had to fill that hole? is he lying/selfishness/self preservation?

why does janus not have an obvious foil? i mean yeah sure patton by association, but he foils both roman and logan as well, even though roman and remus are foils, and logan and virgil are. why does he of all sides get special treatment? am i making this part up?

im. so tired. my issue is wanting to talk but not. talk ugh

why does nobody ever listen to logan ever btw. so many less problems if we listened to logan.

[gayadhd]

ever since realizing that, no-this isnt just adhd, autism is definitely in the mix- everything just makes so much sense to me. but, because of what i am now aware of and observing in not only my behvaior but how others see me and interact with me, i almost wish i hadn’t; it is heartbreaking for me to finally realize just WHY it is so difficult for me to interact with people and make friends. although it is relieving to know it isnt all because of my own doing, it hurts so bad to realize that other people see the obvious difference i was so oblivious to, and that because of that they see me as “other”, “weird”, “confusing”, and decide to just avoid me entirely.

the alienization i feel as someone neurodivergent is astounding and oh so obvious to me now. im not like them; they dont want to hang out with me because im different; they dont understand me. they can laugh and giggle and do whatever it is they do all the while being able to ignore completely that one classmate who weirds them out. part of me is almost grateful- that at least i am not being bullied or made fun of. but the separation and loneliness i feel as the only neurodivergent person in a group of neurotypicals is incredibly depressing.

i have tried so hard and for so long to be palatable for the people around me, not quite knowing what i was doing wrong and why i couldnt make friends. wondering what was wrong with me that people just didnt like me. crying and changing my personality (masking) every couple of months to test and see that MAYBE if i changed THIS part of myself, people would like me. and ultimately, just resigning to the fact that although i didnt know why, people didnt like me and the only answer i had was that it was something about me.

i wish i could tell my younger self that its okay, and its not my fault. but i still wouldnt have an answer for them about what to do about it. im still struggling with that myself.

autism and adhd are disabilities in many ways and can be a struggle to deal with, but socially it doesnt HAVE to be if neurotypicals would just show empathy and be open and welcoming to others they dont quite understand! to drop the idea of “the weird kid” and realize that everyone is a person and deserving of love and even if you personally dont want to be their friend you shouldnt downright ignore them. even that much might have made me feel less alone.

because that has stuck with me all these years and i am finally able to see why i am and likely will always be alone and lonely to some degree. i wish i could find more neurodivergent friends but its not always that simple. i feel like an alien; i am like a cat in a crowd full of dogs. similar, sure, but fundamentally and visibly different.

[stormyoceans]

Puentalay as love languages?

IF I HAD MORE TIME AND WERE A BETTER GIF MAKER I WOULD ACTUALLY ANSWER YOU BY TURNING THIS INTO A WHOLE GIFSET SERIES but unfortunately im afraid you will have to put up with my ramblings instead ;;;;;;;; which tbh i don't even know how coherent they're going to be because as soon as i started to think about it i realized THEY LITERALLY FIT ALL 5 LOVE LANGUAGES AND NOW I FEEL LIKE PULLING A TALAY AND HURLING MYSELF INTO THE VAST UNCARING OCEAN (too soon? yeah okay too soon my bad)

puen in particular pretty much actively gives and seeks most of them:

physical touch: it's honestly pretty obvious how much puen values the feelings of warmth and comfort that comes with physical intimacy. it's in the way he always seeks talay's touch, either by hugging, or kissing, or holding hands, or more. the biggest example of it is actually the glasshouse kiss: the moment he genuinely tries to express his love, this is the first language he resorts to;

gift giving: the hourglass, the way he recreated for himself and talay the friend credits folder and shirt, the watch he gives talay in our skyy..... puen clearly appreciates the careful reflection, the deliberate choosing of the object to represent the relationship, and the emotional benefits from receiving a meaningful gift. it's maybe not a coincidence, then, that a gift is what makes puen realize who talay is;

quality time: puen's desire to actively spend time with talay, having meaningful conversations and sharing recreational activities, is put front and center in our skyy, but even in the main series this is made into a major plot point. "why are you doing this?" talay asks puen in episode 7, after seeing him going out of his way to try making their movie happen. "because it's the only thing i get to do with you," puen answers, and for him, that's love;

acts of service: maybe not as obvious as the others, but it's undeniable that puen likes to spoil talay with little thoughtful gestures (cooking for him, driving him around) just as much as he likes to be spoiled (being given a bath [still can't believe that's actually a thing GOD]).

if i was forced to pick only one, though, i do think quality time is puen's primary love language, followed very closely by physical touch (i'd say it's because they're the two things he missed the most, having lost his parents so young and being alone most of his life, but let's just not go there). on the other hand, the reason i left out words of affirmation is because i do believe that those aren't as essential to him as the other ones are, which is what makes words of affirmation being talay's primary love language even more interesting. talay needs words in a way puen simply doesn't. i mean don't get me wrong, of course hearing talay saying 'i like you' and 'i think im falling for you' was incredibly important for puen, but the biggest reason is because that's how talay expresses his love. compliments, verbal encouragements, words of appreciation and reassurance, those are the things talay always seeks out to feel cherished and safe, and also what he prefers to use to show his affection

maybe this is also why it takes them a while to understand each other and effectively communicate their feelings: their love languages are fundamentally different, so they need time and some effort to find the right balance between their needs. and here's what's making me want to throw myself down a well and drown in 5 cm of water: throughout the series, we can actually see the two of them adopting the other's love language to make sure they feel loved in a way they can understand. so on one hand we get puen trying his best to verbally reassure talay and express his appreciation for him, while on the other hand we have talay giving him more physical affection and coming up with a 30 days love challenge to spend more time with puen

i think that's why they just hit different: i've never found any other ship where both parts were so committed to make things work by actively trying to understand each other and accommodate each other's needs so they can always feel safe and loved

[my-lunaberg]

Okay, this confrontation/chase has been going on for too long, Im not sure if Im capable of actual analysis rn so Im just jotting all my thoughts so far down bullet point style

I find it very telling that Dream just got out of prison, where he was almost completely isolated and rarely visited and starved and also actively tortured for about half of his almost year-long time there, and instead of going to his base or finding shelter or resting or anything like that, he seemingly went straight to Logstedshire after getting the gear from Punz. Idk if hes there bc he suspected that Tommy would try and get the axe of peace or bc he wanted to remisce but either way, very interesting

Im too lazy to dig up my old posts where I try to predict the effects that the prison will have on Dreams psyche and I dont really remember what I even said, but I do know that I said the prison would make him a lot more unhinged so I'll take that as a win for me

That being said, Im not entirely satisfied with the way Dream is acting so unaffected by like, the physical torture especially. Yeah sure, it does seem like being trapped in jail for a while was part of Dreams game plan all along somehow, but I dont think Quackitys torture was, judging by how surprised he seemed when he showed up. And even if it was, while I do think of Dream as a pretty deluded character, no amount of delusion is gonna make the Literal Fucking Torture hes endured for months on end not feel like Literal Fucking Torture

When the confrontation started my first thought was "oh, his manipulation tactics are a lot sloppier and a lot more obvious, I feel like Tommy wouldnt fall for that even if he didnt already know that Dream was bad news" but then I thought again and I realized that hes talking in a very similar way to when Tommys exile started, where he just kinda says stuff to try and bring him down because hes so confident in his manipulation tactics that he thinks he can just make Tommy forget all about how he compared him to an annoying bug right before he started saying he was his friend. Now, he got progressively more unhinged over the course of the confrontation, so his attempts at manipulation land even worse but still

Basically, I think hes trying to do exactly what he did at the start of exile which is to say, break him down and make him "his" in some weird way, only that with the exile the goal was to get him on his side and become Dreams protegee of sorts, while this time its mostly just to beat him down and break him like a toy

Idk Ive made a lot of analyses of Dream and one the things i keep coming back to is the fact that he wants absolute control over everything everyone and he cannot handle the loss of that control, but deep down he still desires Challenge and Tommy gave him that. His relationship with Tommy is fascinating because its essentially Dream attempting to reconcile those two fundamentally uncompatible parts of his psyche. However, I dont think he wants Challenge anymore. Even if the stay at the prison was planned, it nevertheless showed him what its like to experience loss of control, to truly eperience being challenged and its clear to me that he doesnt want it anymore and that he just wants to break Tommy down until he listens

This is another complaint that sorta ties into Dream being so unaffected by the torture and a suggestion to 'fix' it. I realize that theyre working with Minecraft mechanics and everything so it doesnt matter that much, but Dream should definitely be having issues with food after being starved and only given raw potatoes for that long and I also dont think he should be able to sprint. I feel like they couldve done something really neat and have Dream be like "no Im not hungry" when Punz gives him those baked potatoes and then later when hes chasing Tommy around maybe he starts out sprinting but after a short while hes just kinda jumping around and you realize that hes starving but hes szill not eating and just keeps following Tommy with his pearls and maybe a trident if he has one rn. Idk just something that couldve been cool

I realize that Tommy is obviously there too and I feel like I shouldve written more about him but honestly, I dont have any thoughts abt him rn, maybe I'll have some later down the line. Idk man, I like c!Tommy a lot but hes not really a character that I like to write analysis posts about (i love reading others analyses though!! I think hes interesting, I just dont have a lot of interesting thoughts about him beyond that sry), while c!Dream very much is lol. I see a lot of myself in and thats definitely part of the reason I enjoy him so much and why I symphatize with him so strongly and why analysing him is so fascinating, its kinda cathartic for me. I know a lot of people in the fandom tend to really dehumanize him, both bc he doesnt have his own POV which makes it easier and bc they seemingly just dehumanize any Bad People in fiction, but its honestly a struggle for me to try and do that too, simply because I am human and I know hes human because we have done similar things for similar reasons (only that hes obviously worse bc its fiction and things get exgerated yknow)

Idk thats about it for now, I just spent like two hours writing this when I probably shouldve just kept watching the video lol

[0thsense]

3/6/2024

Interestingly it's been less than a month since I last posted. I'm watching a Docker tutorial right now. It's really really boring, and I'm worried im not gonna retain anything from it. I thought it'd been longer since I last posted, part of the reason I came to post today was guilt at not posting sooner.

One of the main challenges I'm facing right now other than the obvious job search is finding a way to keep my oxytocin high. I'm alone in the house for this whole month and I'm trying to survive I guess. I'm already doing better than last time when I was cooked after living alone for like only four days. I'm trying all sorts of things to increase oxytocin, like heavily committing to seeing people like driving up to SF for brandon's bday party. I met a cute girl there and mordekaiser ulted her, and it was kinda awkward. I've forgotten how to 1v1 people and ask interesting questions. I also try to watch content and be parasocial for oxytocin because I'm pretty sure it works.

Random tangent - a useful product/potential startup idea would be a chemical reaction based air conditioner that maintains a steady temperature in a room, and is fueled by the ingredients for the chemical reaction.

I have one recruiter and two tech interviews coming up. It's about what I expected I guess going in. If I fail these im cooked probably. I haven't been great at applying myself to applications/prep. This docker video is really putting me off. My energy is split between leetcode, system design, and personal projects.

Going meta here, I dislike that I'm mostly just being expository in these posts. I wanted this diary to be more of my random personal thoughts. But because I'm writing out of guilt and not out of a burst of mental energy, I don't have those thoughts on hand. I definitely had something worth writing yesterday but I've forgotten it.

I cried listening to Theme of Love from FF4 distant worlds yesterday. I've recently started listening to music in the car which seems to help unlock my emotions. I think about how beautiful the heart and soul put into games like FF are, and I cry thinking about how I feel like I can never create something with that much heart and soul put in. Surely my cope to maximize these mental chemicals will lead me to the goal right?

Currently I'm leaning towards the position that my life isn't worth living, but it's not bad enough that I can justify ending it. For the sake of my family I have to live. I thought about a video game character who ends up with a kid as his reason to live, and realized now that that is like the most cliche character ever.

I remembered what I thought about yesterday. People hate nepotism and always complain about how networking and adjacent things are so important. But for most jobs it makes sense because knowing someone is a really strong signal compared to seeing their resume and a couple interviews. People always say to network but never really explain (at least not to me) why networking is so important from a fundamental level, and why the capitalist economy has agreed that networking plays a massive role in finding jobs/opportunities. I'd like to compile some of these truths you can find just by thinking a little bit about into a book.

Another thing I've been thinking about is that truly everybody is different. It would be easier to reason about things if you could abstract people better, but if you abstract all the way, the commonalities you find between people are pretty scant. You pretty much get things at the base level like maslow's heirarchy of needs. Another way of framing it is obtaining the pleasure chemicals in the brain. But the ways those needs manifest and the methods to satisfy those needs varies so much across person to person. That's why sciences like exercise, nutrition, and psychology and so fragmented and contradictory is because there's so much variance in these. And that's also why parents are so important for development and teaching because genetics mean their advice/experience will be so much more applicable.

I've noticed that I basically hear nothing about the upcoming election. Especially compared to the last time trump was the republican candidate. I guess the novelty has worn off, and I wonder if that's good or bad for trump's chances.

[minjoon-love]

not that last tcich anon, and im not here to invalidate their reaction or desires for the story either, but that ask was rlly fascinating to see for me since my experience was so juxtaposed. havent read the last chapter yet (im DYING to i just wanted to share before it affects these thoughts) but i appreciated yoongi's aloofness, in those decisions but throughout the fic. fundamentally it seems other anon is looking for a love story, whereas im more indulged by a relationship that has the capacity to be love but is beholden to circumstance. i got the impression that yoongi's coup (forgive me if thats off, its been ages since i read the full fic n have forgotten the details) is more important to him than jimin from the beginning, and thats what i liked. it made his obvious feelings for jimin that much more entertaining/interesting & his willingness to resign to losing him compelling, if ruthless (n i do love some ruthlessness for a cause in stories). i dont want yoongi to be a good partner since i never got the impression he was supposed to be, n the imbalance of emotional investment between them was my favorite part of yoonmin's dynamic apropo of the whole would-be-love-if-i-didnt-have-a-longstanding-political-scheme-to-complete thing. not that yg being confronted by how much he cares for jimin would be bad, i'd love to see how he would cope with that without compromising his plans. and jimin certainly deserves it, tho i find it interesting anon wants to punish yg for putting jm in danger by putting jm in danger (not that it matters, just earnestly curious logic to me). but personally a character who is stalwart in the agenda hes clearly had, and his love int has known hes had, since the beginning sticking to his characterization even if it means endangering the undeserving and reader-favored love interest in a pretty cold move will always excite me more than one easily led astray by their emotions, esp if theyre meant to be from a kill-or-be-killed habitat. this is why its my favorite fic to date--most ppl dont go there from a premise i'd enjoy in fanfic, or write yoongi into the role even tho i think hes easily the most suited to that kind of ruthless, uncompromising ambition in a hyperfictionalized iteration of bts. or they do go there but its a character flaw that is fixed, rather than just a trait to be examined or used. thank you sm for writing it im gonna go read the last chapter and stare at a wall to process how grateful i am i got to read it now 🖤🖤🖤

Wow, this was an interesting read! I think the intention I had was to make Yoongi's character be someone who is for the most part cold and calculated, and more prone to think with logic than with his feelings. But also to bring out the fact that people who always make the rational choice, can still have profound emotions that affect them. So to be honest it was never my intention to write Yoongi as someone who doesn't care about Jimin, but his feelings just got warmer and warmer as time went by, or he started to admit to himself that he had feelings. And even then, when they had to start making some difficult choices, Yoongi was willing to send Jimin to Korea with Namjoon and Hoseok because he trusted them and trusted their plan, and also truly believed it would be the best way to not only get rid of the old man but also save Jimin. Sure, they kind of used Jimin for their plan, but on the other hand he really believed that if he would fail in the old man's eyes, Jimin would be in even more danger because someone else would be sent after him, which would only make the situation more unpredictable. So that was my logic behind why things happened this way. I don't know if you'll end up being happy with the conclusion of Yoongi actually becoming a better partner by the very end of the story and even getting a boring "normal" job. 😆 But I also wanted Yoongi to grow as a character by the end of the story and come face to face with what's really important to him in life. Thinking about it now, if I had more patience or wanted to drag out the "6 months later" epilogue, I might have explained better what both Yoongi and Jimin's motivations were at that point, but honestly I just don't like reading super long and dragged out conclusions, so I opted for explaining things shortly instead, and hopefully it still feels like a suitable conclusion.

[asscrackcreed]

part 2 after the author replied i wasnt sure if i should carry on but with their unapologetic attitude ofc i went through with it

STOP WITH THE KADAR AND MASTURBATING THING ITS FUCKING GROSS WHY DOES HIS BROTHER A N D MOTHER KNOW !!!!!!!’ ENOUGH

omg kadar is 16 and maliks 19 shut the fuck up EWWWWW

ok let me explain it properly this author fetishised kadars teenage hormones why do we keep coming back to kadar wanting to have sex esp if hes a minor its disgusting theyve made a point that u can explore gross things in fiction because yk its fiction and not irl and tbh idgaf because youre telling me you enjoy reading about a minors sexual life? youre telling me you enjoy reading about a brother telling his MINOR brother about HIS sex life? defend incest if u want im not here to change ur mind about incest but if u think that u can just write about minors sexually u are fucking disgusting

a lot of talk about god but none of it relates to the story or being gay so idk not interested

DES AND EZIO KISSED. WITH TONGUE. AND EZIO INSTIGATED IT?

chapter 27^ i cant do it anymore its 3am as im typing i’ll finish the rest when i wake up

kadars only personality trait is being horny tf

adha is very religiously strict and thinks altaïr is a godless pig uhm. ok… making adha rude is very uncalled for you couldve chose to use a random woman like…. a stranger but no it had to be canon altaïrs dead ex… and altaïr says ‘i dont know much about islam’ i dont understand why some fanfic authors insist on making altaïr completely atheist, i feel like altaïr wouldn’t be religious tbfh but hed still have islamic norms and values. when we can write characters in a way the original source material doesnt why cant we include cultural and religious aspects? why do ppl try so hard to remove the fundamental aspects of islamic culture. altaïr not knowing islam just drags the story more because if he did then hed understand adha and like idk hed connect with malik more and adhas anger would be justified but here she is being an ass and assuming the worst because…? she could’ve just called him an asshole idk why she dragged religion into this its reminding me of strict religious ppl who hate the new generation so far there hasn’t really been much about the good things of islam

adhas apologising now for assuming the worst. she paints smth for him? doesnt really make sense but alright

if altaïr can honor his mum with a tattoo (which is haram but anyways) he could surely honor his dad by celebrating eid or smth or just praying some time idk the paragraph im reading is about how his grandmas not religious and his dad was a practising muslim but never taught altaïr which ok he died when altaïr was 5 fine but idk the authors very intent on making sure altaïr isnt muslim but personally if he was muslim it’d be interesting because then hed struggle with his faith and himself i mean malik doesnt seem to struggle at all so idk ig everyones different

excuse me? so we can add black fetishisation to the list as well cuz wtf was that? it doesnt even add to the story its so random and unnecessary?

uhm altaïr and adha fell in love not a lot of depth to their relationship considering this mustve been over the course of days maybe even a few weeks idk just not a lot of time as it is to uh fall in love but shes engaged so theyve left it at that still not a bad plot point ig but it doesnt affect malik as of yet which undermines this plot point but lets see what happens

leo and sofias interactions are cute i like this leo malik and sofia friendship going on

im not gonna comment on any more incest its obvious this author just has a thing for it and theres so many fics that have incest and if i was to really fight that id do it for the other fics too also i wont comment on their writing as a whole anymore the main issue here is the cultural erasure and fetishisation

these do not affect the plot in any way shape or form, yes its an old 2014 fanfic but the author seems to not give a fuck that theyve written gross things. as well as poorly write islamic characters, it feels like a ‘youre either religious or your not’ and writing things like this is harmful! youre telling readers that muslims are either very harsh (like adha was) or very sweet (like maliks mum for being okay that maliks gay) but what about the catholic side of the family? theres no indication that they’re homophobia stems from religion. also ppl think its okay to just make altaïr unaware of his own heritage and faith? yes hes not muslim per say but hes syrian? his father died young but you can choose to write about the family wanting to help altaïr keep his customs alive. its white. its so white. it makes me more upset that the author will only focus on us disliking incest rather than accept that they’re wrong for cultural erasure. youve told hs that he’s syrian and white but just added that he misses his dad. and u cant defend sexualising kadar at all i wont hear anything about that because what u enjoy in fiction is also a reflection of what you enjoy irl. if you think incest is cool you will have a natural interest of it irl theres a reflection of your interests in your writing. if for example i wrote angst you would naturally expect that i like it or have a connection to it in some way, that i enjoy somehow. but i dont really like angst i could write for it but thats from my experience and thought process. someone who writes smut doesnt mean that they’re sexually active but theyve thought about it, they might’ve done some research to it. do u see what im tryna say? you are actively advancing on your interests when you right about them in fiction, you have a connection to it. if you hated smut someone would assume you hated it irl. the logic applies here too, if you dont like incest irl and it grosses you would simply not read incest in fiction because it grosses you out. if you dont like cultural erasure and sexualising minors irl then why tf would u add it to ur fic? why would u think that the boundary fiction would allow that to be okay? and the thing is micro-aggressions back in 2014 were bad and i know that but the author having had feedback and not even acknowledging it in this day and age is disgusting. ppl say they like sass verse, i have to say the plot of it is interesting but there were so many unnecessary aspects that did not contribute or feel nice to read at all. even if someone uses the excuse that they didnt know smth about islam, i as brown muslim you can not dismiss my feelings towards the way they wrote any muslim characters.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[a-beast-with-teeth]

hi there!

my names Sylvester! i use he/it/the animal/bark/byte/blood/bit pronouns. 

I’m just a simple therian having fun on the interwebs!

this is a sideblog! my main is @the-ghost-of-bit-the-hand1987 ! comment replies, likes, & follows all come from there :]

~~~

Requests: currently open! [0]

What can you request?

Moodboards

Playlists

Outfits

What can I request these of?

Animal/Creature/Plant theriotypes/kins/etc. (woodpeckers, leafeons, jackalopes, cacti, etc.)

Monster (and other) theriotypes/kins/etc. (zombies, werewolves, harpys, angels, etc.)

Specific Technology theriotypes/kins/etc. (specific computers, idogs, viruses, etc.)

~~~

generally if someone i dont like interacts with me i’ll just block them, and DNIs dont really work all that well... but heres a basic one: 

DNI:

- the obvious (racist, homophobic, transphobic, ableist, pedofiles/zoophiles, ect.)

- losers who are super strict about words (ask yourself: “in this situation, is it any of my business what someone calls themself? is this actually hurting anyone? am i possibly missing information? am i disregarding history or someone’s personal experiences just because i feel a certain way about a topic? am i speaking over the people this might be affecting? do i have something better i could be doing with my time than worrying about strangers who aren’t actually hurting anyone?”)

- discourse accounts (i dont mind if you partake in it sometimes! but id prefer if you didnt interact with me if its like. all you post.)

- anti-kink. i totally get it if your blog has a “kink/nsfw/18+ accounts DNI” but if you yourself are fundamentally against kink then i think you are a weirdo and please do not interact with me. (i dont usually post anything nsfw/kink related though, just in case you were wondering)

~~~

if you wanna know about my theirotypes & see my tags, click to keep reading :]

~~~

in general, im an animal. my favorite words to describe myself are “beast” and “thing”. i consider my theriotypes more as parts of the animal i am than individual animals i identify as. they sort of all mush together to make the thing that i am! heres them listed:

- zombie

- general domestic dog(s?) (not sure of the specifics. one type is for sure a herding dog of some sort.)

- wolf (of some sort... i’ve never really been sure of the specifics..)

- alligator 

- goat/sheep (unsure of the specifics)

- tech of some sort (super unsure of the specifics. i feel a general kinship to most technology. from toasters to vcrs to smoke detectors to chargers to smart tvs, theyre all like brothers to me.)

- bat (unsure of the specifics. leaning towards fruit bats & vampire bats)

- skunk (not sure of the specifics. possibly striped skunk?)

- otter (not sure if river otter or sea otter)

- owl (not sure of the specifics. possibly barn owl?)

- penguin (unsure what type..)

- feline of some sort (likely domestic)

- maned wolf

~~~

heres my tags! 

#chomp -> want to chew on this

#yimyum -> want to eat this

#home -> feels like home

#sharp -> woah teeth

#mirror -> woah hey this looks like me (in some way, shape, or form)

#tail wag -> favorite posts

#buried -> posts to save 

#into the cart -> shopping list

#howling -> the moon

#barking -> posts i make / posts i add on to