#I know there’s obviously lots of people who can’t afford either

[benevolent-blackhole]

There’s a lot of shaming of Instacart users but it’s literally cheaper to use Instacart once a month or so then own a car, and at least where I live it’s become harder and harder to get to the grocery store by public transportation as bus lines get cut. And specifically where I am, a lack of crosswalks and constant construction that blocks off sidewalks makes it hard and dangerous to walk to grocery stores.

#I know there’s obviously lots of people who can’t afford either #but Instacart fees and tip are like 30 dollars #which is less than buying a car and keeping it filled with gas and maintained #30 dollars on a large order where I am

[spudangle]

So I've been thinking about what Astarion's life looked like before he was turned into a vampire.

We know little to nothing about Astarion’s past, besides the fact that he was a magistrate, and that he was approximately 39 years old when he was turned into a spawn by Cazador. From a storytelling perspective we don’t really need to know more than that, for one, it makes sense that he can’t remember his past, as 39 years of normalcy is nothing in comparison to 200 years of abuse, and besides, him having been a magistrate already tells us a lot just based on association.

Anyways, I actually just wanted to get into some of my headcanons for what I imagine his pre-spawn life and upbringing might have looked like.

I like to think that Astarion had the most boring upper middle class/upper class life that you can imagine. 

He was brought up in a fairly wealthy family, at least wealthy enough to have a couple of servants employed, like 1-3.  

And obviously his family was super snobbish, maybe not rude (though probably that too), but they were definitely grossly ignorant of the people that they deemed below them.

He became a magistrate because his father was a magistrate (or maybe his father had a higher position, but I don’t know the right terms when it comes to law), and so the same was expected of Astarion.

Not that I think that Astarion hated being a magistrate, but he probably enjoyed it more so because of the status and power that it afforded him, rather than a genuine interest in law. 

His father was probably a real stick in the mud. The sort of guy who wouldn’t be all that present or interested in his son’s life unless it had to do with his education or reputation, so any parenting from his side would have been rather strict.

And while there might not have been a lot of love in their relationship I can still see a young Astarion really admiring his father, though also being a little intimidated by, if not afraid of, him.

Astarion, as a child, would definitely have threatened to have his father sue if he didn’t get his way. 

“WeLl mY FAthEr WiLl sue yOuR fAtHeR…” 

Astarion’s mother would have been the complete opposite of his father. Still a complete snob, but not at all a stick in the mud. 

By no means a working lady, neither outside of or in the house (that’s what you have servants for), but rather a socialite, she herself coming from somewhat noble stock prior to being married. 

A bit of a wine mom for lack of a better term, and she would been heeeavily into gossip, constantly being up to date on what was happening inside and outside of her social circle.

She had probably been sharing gossip with Astarion since he could talk.   

She loved Astarion dearly, spoiling him rotten. 

Though, she too could probably have been a bit more emotionally attentive to him. 

I imagine that Astarion resembles or at least resembled his mother a lot, both in appearance and personality.

Anyways. 

Astarion’s life was mundane as HELL before he became a vampire spawn.

I understand logistically why elves - especially in human societies - have to work after the age of 18, but what, he was only 39, was he supposed to spend the next 700-800 years of his life just working in law?? No adventuring out and seeing the world?? Nothing??? That must have been so boring for an elf, right???

Like seriously what did he have to look forward to???

So you have pre-spawn Astarion doing the same thing day in and day out, working in the shadow of his father. 

Spending the evenings and weekends accompanying his mother to social events, which quickly became boring after a couple of years, because it was always the same people and the same boring gossip. 

He wasn’t really his own person then either, always having to be presentable, having to maintain the image of his family. 

The only thrills he could gain were those found when exerting power over others at court, or when spreading nasty rumors among his peers to see them erupt into chaos.

And sure it was easy and it was nice but it wasn’t very exciting. 

But at least it was better than what was going to be his life for the next 200 years.

I just think that these things are so interesting to consider, when thinking about Astarion’s character. He was a part of a real family before Cazador snatched him away. He was someone’s son. 

I have more thoughts, but I don’t really know if they fit in here.

#my own personal trash #text #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 headcanons #headcanons #Astarion #astarion headcanons #it's 12:35am so I don't trust my own proof reading #long post #my writing

[shawol-poser]

Replay, Track 1 (The 'KEY' x reader insert Anthology)

Disclaimer:I own nothing but my writing. I write with the idol's on screen persona in mind, which should be considered separate from the idol's real persona. This is by no means canon (obviously), should not be treated as such, and should not be seen as a representation of any of the people featured in this work. Also, if you notice that the timeline doesn't fit in real life/ isn't accurate, it's for convenience :DD Remember! This isn't real!

Pairing: Kim Kibum x Fem! Makeup Artist! Ex-classmate! reader

Summary: A collection of, "Kim Kibum x Makeup Artist! Ex-classmate! reader" one shots as told through various times the reader is mentioned in different variety shows that "SHINee's KEY" has been featured in!!

“I thought I told you that drinking so much makes your face get puffy?” 

“Shut up. I really don’t want to hear that right now.” He does recall the many times you’ve told him time and time again that it was annoying to clean up after him, but it was a special night. Kibum wanted to treat himself to a fun night where he could unwind after working hard for a while with his friends. “Hey. I invited you last night and you didn’t show up. It’s your fault that I’m like this now.” 

“Can you imagine if I actually went? Who was going to help you guys clean all of this up?” You motioned with your arm and head to the full table that had a variety of half-eaten, and some untouched, food from the get together. It’s no surprise that SHINee’s Key can’t finish a lot of food in one sitting, but for both him and the Choi brother’s to leave this much out? You wouldn’t have been surprised if he ordered this so last minute that he wouldn’t have remembered doing so.

“We were going to clean up, don’t worry.” Minho’s interjected from the other side of you as he moved to gather at least some of the bottles that littered the wooden table. He smiled as he saw you following him and picking up the other bottles as Kibum grabbed a bigger plastic bag to collect what you picked up.

As Minho approaches though, he peers into the sink and frowns. “When are you going to do the dishes?”

“Huh? Why should I? I have a dishwasher.” That bit of news comes as a surprise to you as you’ve never known him to have a dishwasher.

You’ve alway cleaned his dishes by hand.

“...Huh?”

“That’s why. Your plates were so dirty. No wonder they were so dirty yesterday.” He continues to grab more bottles and put them all in the bag, and his friend’s expression only sours further. Putting his hand on his chest in offense.

“That wasn’t me. Y/n was the last one to do the dishes. She doesn’t know how to use a dishwasher.”

You tilt your head in a negative manner and smile as you respond. “You've gotten so much better at framing people, Kim Kibum. But does that mean that you haven’t washed your dishes in two weeks? I haven’t been here since then! So if you can tell me that you either haven’t been at home for the past two weeks or haven't used your kitchen at all, I’ll admit the dirty plates were my fault.” 

“Just kill me.”

The reply earns scoff of disbelief from both you and Minho as you all continue to clean up. Kibum, contributing at a much slower pace while sitting down in caution.

He couldn't afford to be clumsy while hungover and handling glass. Especially so when two of the most annoying people in his life were arguing with him so early in the day.

“Why did you drink so much?”

“You think I drank all of this myself? We drank together.”

“Why did you order fried chicken?”

“You can’t ask me that, you weren’t here. Just stop it.”

“You ordered this last minute, didn’t you? What’s the point of doing that?”

“Honey, please. I don’t want to hear this.”

“We weren’t even hungry. I ate ramyeon and it was enough–”

“Stop it, this never ends–”

“You’ll complain later and tell me that I don’t do anything for you. You’re going to tell me, ‘You didn’t even show up when I invited you, but you’re going to nag and–”

“Stop it–!” He groaned out, jokingly swinging the plastic bag to hit you. Obviously missing you by a lot, but that didn’t stop your disgust and Minho’s disbelief being directed at him.

“Anyone that sees us like this might think we’re  fighting.” “We piss each other off a lot.” “But we’re really not fighting.” “This is just ‘every day’ life.” “It’s just ‘every day’ life.” “It’s ‘every day’ life.”

As you cleaned up a bit more, wiping away some spills, you saw the curious glint in Kibum’s eye.

“I can try this, right?” He asks himself while grabbing a piece of chicken from the table.

“Yeah. It was good yesterday too.” Minho adds as he joins him, taking a piece for himself. The sight of the two sleepy boys lazily tasting a bit of leftover chicken was sort of funny to you. The both of them taking a very short break as you grab the plates and wash them in the sink.

“Yah, why are you washing them in the sink? I have a dishwasher.” The owner of the house complains for the umpteenth time as he watches you from behind.

“Huh? I washed them like this last time too.”

“What are you doing, making her wash your dishes? This isn’t even her house.” The other says, grabbing the pan to wash. “You have to wash them with your hands. It has to feel clean for it to be clean.”

"She’s not doing the dishes.” Kibum looks at your hands in the sink as he sticks his hand out from beside you. “Just rinse it once, and give it to me. What’s the point in paying for a dishwasher if you’re not using it?” You look unsure, but comply and give him the first place you washed.

“She’s still doing your dishes!”

“That’s not doing the ‘dishes.’ She’s only doing half the work.” He clicks his tongue from his crouched position in front of the dishwasher before shaking his head and looking up at you. “Don’t listen to him, just let me do it.” You continue to do as he says because if he really wants to clean it his way, you’ll let him. They weren’t your dishes after all.

“So you’re just going to put them in there? Ah…That’s really not it.” Cleaning up the rest of the small cups left from the dining area, Minho shakes his head as he travels back and forth the trash can. Continuing to go on and on about how you have to hear, 'a plate squeak and shine before you call it ‘clean.’'

“Before you guys fight for real this time, I bought you the hangover cure you use.” You place the two bottles of the medicine onto the table, and continue to empty the rest of the plastic bag, that was filled with bottles of water, into Kibum’s fridge.

Key's eyes widened in surprise before rushing to the dining area to look at one of the bottles. Sighing in relief when he saw that it was the same one he usually uses, eyebrows skewing upwards and eyes closing in thanks.

“I’m saved. Hallelujah~”

"Don't pretend to look like you're touched when you're not."

----------------------------------

After doing a bit of grocery, Kibum decided to watch the latest episode of, “I Live Alone” that he was on, curious to see what it must have looked like once it finally aired. He’s seen a few updates on Naver and how a lot of people seemed to like you being officially debuting on national TV. The feedback brought a smile to his face because, although he would never admit it to you, he was worried that having you on camera might put negative attention on you. His manager had already given him the green light that this interaction would be okay to publish, but you didn’t have the same job security, nor permanency at the company. 

If people reacted negatively to your appearance and relationship with the rest of the members, you would most likely be referred to another group, or even outsourced to a different company for whatever reason.

Then again, his audience mostly consisted of people in his generation, and he trusted that his fandom was more chill and wouldn’t fuss about you so much. And thankfully they didn’t.

Still…

“Hello?” Your voice was clear as it could be from his phone. He doesn't really know why he called you, and maybe there shouldn’t really be any reason to. But he found himself dialing your number anyway.

“Did you see the show I was on?”

“Ah, yeah. I’m watching it right now. The way you and Minho bicker is already pretty funny, but seeing it like this makes it funnier. MBC’s production team is really something.” You’re laughing on the other end of the phone, and it normally makes him happy to hear you like that, but it sort of bothers him this time around.

“Ah~!! The lighting is so good…Minho’s skin looks good here.

“Hey. I asked about the show I was on. I was asking what you thought about me. Don’t lump me together with him as if we’re a set menu. He’s not here right now. Let’s just talk about me.” 

“Yes, yes, Kibum-ah. You were very funny, and you’re not a set menu.” Your laughter dies down as you finish.

Suddenly, the conversation you were having with him sounded familiar. Or at least, the feel of it. “Hey…doesn’t this feel like high school again?”

“What on earth are you talking about this time?” Maybe it's because you were both getting old, but he’s noticed that both of you have been starting to bring up the past more often. There wasn’t really a problem with it, but he does wonder why it must happen more often now.

“Do you remember that? There was a day we had PE before lunch,” He hummed in acknowledgement, but unsure where you were going with this. “So the boys in our class would play basketball during lunch, but you stayed with the girls.”

“I guess I remember that. Why?” 

You laughed a bit, suddenly finding the memory funnier as you tried to retell the story. “You–You–--" Even the though of it was suddenly so funny to you. "My boyfriend–”

  “AHhhhh–-” Not this again. He knows what you’re talking about now.

“My boyfriend didn’t like us talking, even though we never hung out before–” You wheezed out, unable to continue because you were laughing.

“Oh my god, girl. We only talked about council projects. I still don’t know why that was an issue.” He whined. He still never understood why your boyfriend at the time didn’t like you talking. You were never really close when you went to the same school, only having some mutual friends but never really hanging out together. Hell, he feels like you got really close only recently. After he came back from his military service.

“But it’s so funny to think about it now! You– You had to dodge the other guys asking you to join them play, sneak into our classroom just so we could talk about our project, and then rush back outside to look like you were never near there in the first place–” Remembering a young Kim Kibum with his arms crossed, and a petty frown, trying his best to intimidate you as he kept trying to get you to look at him. 

“And then even when we were talking, you kept looking around the hallway anyway. How am I supposed to feel when you’re focusing on literally any small sound you hear except what I was telling you?”

“I was scared! And you said some really funny things.” He cocked his head to the side as he listened to his phone more, trying to remember what it was. “You said, ‘Yah! Stop looking! Your boyfriend’s playing basketball, he’s not coming anytime soon. Let’s talk about me!’” You couldn’t see it, but Kibum’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he ended up joining you laughing. “The audacity of this little punk to tell me that my boyfriend’s not coming is so–”

“YAH, Shut up! I didn’t know what I was saying. Kids can make mistakes.” To have ambushed you like that must have looked so bad if anyone else heard it, but he’s glad he’s not like that anymore.

For the rest of the call, you chatted for a bit before you decided to end it to continue your work and for him to get some sleep. During times like this, you’re thankful you’ve kept a friend from so long ago with you. Being able to talk about things from your childhood was so fun and reminded you both of times where you had little to worry about other than what you’d eat for dinner that day and if your parents would get mad at you.

As you bid each other goodnight, Kim Kibum lays in bed, wondering how long he’s known you for, and why you weren’t friends when you were classmates. He’s thankful for the many opportunities SHINee has given him, but he’s surprisingly thankful that he’s been able to get closer to you through the years.

 He hopes that it stays that way.

#shinee key x reader #kim kibum #kim kibum x reader #shinee #shinee x reader #minho shinee #key shinee #minho shinee x reader #choi minho x reader #key imagines #key reactions #minho imagines #Minho reactions #shinee imagines #SHINee reactions

[jomiddlemarch]

reunions, expansion pack edition

You decided, brunette pixie cut and outdated stereotypes about blondes notwithstanding, to play dumb.

“I’m not sure—”

“Miller.  From 11th grade English. Though I don’t generally go by just my last name anymore,” he said and then extended a hand to shake, which obviously, you had to take. He had a firm grip, calluses across his palms, and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit you were turned on. “Joel.”

“I’m—”

“Oh, I know who you are,” he interrupted. 

“You do?”

“Yeah. You’re the only reason I decided to come to my high school’s 20th reunion,” he said.

“Me?” you said, actually feeling pretty dumb at the moment. More like the struck dumb kind and your mouth was probably hanging open, given the way Joel was smiling at you. You shut it, feeling your teeth clatter against each other, biting your lip but not in the tentative sexy way it happened in a movie or a romance novel. You considered taking a sip of your drink but figured you’d probably spill it or gulp too much and end up spluttering. You couldn’t take a deep breath to calm down, he’d notice, so you balled up your free hand in a fist and then relaxed it. It didn’t work.

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be so hard to believe. I had a crush on you back then. Wanted to ask you to Prom—”

“Why didn’t you?” you ask before you can stop yourself. Maybe you’re actually dreaming, this can’t really be happening, but if it is a dream, it’s a good one, probably the best you’re going to have in the next decade, so you decide you should really push it. The chances of it going off the rails with like some Fraggle asking you to do the Electric Slide (Mokey, not Red) are high, but the chances of Joel telling you he had been interested and Still Was were good enough you’d risk it.

“Lots of reasons. Didn’t think you’d say yes. Couldn’t afford a limo. Or a tux, the little rosebud corsage in the plastic box with all the ribbons and shit. Didn’t want to ask you to go in my dad’s pick-up. Get you all dirty maybe,” he paused and you were both standing there with all dirty hanging in the air between you, hovering, making you blush. Joel looked a little abashed too, which was a relief. “Too scared, basically,” he said.

“I don’t like limos,” you said. “Never have.”

You’d sort of blurted it out, but there was only warm interest in his dark eyes, no mockery.

“Good to know. Didn’t take one here tonight,” he said.

“Me neither,” you said and he laughed.

“Look, you rather talk or dance? I know my limits, I can’t do both. Not with you. Not well,” he said. The DJ the reunion planning committee hired had started to play and people were heading to the dance floor. You thought about Joel’s hands on your hips, your arms looped around his neck. You thought about the revelations he’d already shared, his ringless hands, whether you were going to wake up and when.

“Talk?” you said. “These heels, they’re kind of high—”

“You can take them off, you know,” he said. “Whenever you want.”

“Later,” you said.

“Later’s good too. You want another drink?” he replied. 

“Sure. Surprise me,” you replied. You weren’t aiming for sultry but magically, you’d gotten about 47% of the way there. Joel held your gaze and it was definitely a promise, not a challenge.

“I aim to,” he said.

*

“So, cards on the table,” Joel said, having set down a brightly colored cocktail with a wedge of lime and a matching green umbrella in front of you and a fresh beer in front of himself and nary an actual card. “Graduated, went to UT, run my own construction business with my brother Tommy, you probably don’t remember him. I got two girls at home, eleven and eight, divorced for over five years, don’t see much of either ex and yeah, I got two. Third time’s the charm, so they say.”

“Um, yeah,” you replied, trying to take it all in with some facsimile of nonchalance, a phrase your favorite journalism professor would have struck-through with red pen instantly. “They do say that. I feel like—”

“It’s a lot,” he said. “I know. But my girls are my whole life. I can’t, I won’t hide that. Can’t French braid their hair worth shit, but being a good dad’s the most important part of my life.” 

“No, it is good. I appreciate you not dancing around stuff. It’s just, I feel like I’m in the speed round of a game show maybe,” you said. You took the umbrella out of the glass but you didn’t pick it up. Not yet.

“You think you’re gonna win? Joel asked. He did take a long swallow of his beer, then grinned. God, he was attractive, his features a little too rough to be conventionally handsome, which was better in your opinion. “I’d always bet on you, Scout.”

“Christ, no one’s called me that since high school,” you said. You’d carried your paperback copy of To Kill A Mockingbirduntil the cover nearly disintegrated. It had been tucked into the inner pocket of your navy-blue Jansport backpack but word had gotten around.

“If you don’t like it, I won’t,” Joel said.

“It’s okay. It’s just a blast from the past, you know? Like this whole thing really,” you said. You paused and both of you looked around the room, filled with people you’d seen every day, but never in a setting like this, the hotel ballroom much more nondescript than the gaily decorated lockers that lined the high school hallways, hand-lettered posters plastered in the cafeteria. Everyone was all dressed up in a sort of uniform, Joel like the rest of the men in a nice button-down and chinos, you wearing a cocktail dress that was a little too tight for anything work-related, your heels a little too high, designed to make your legs and ass look as close to amazing as you could manage north of thirty-five, plus or minus Pilates and/or running 5Ks. In your case, definitely minus both Pilates and 5Ks. Joel did not seem to mind, based on the frankly appreciative glances you kept catching.

“My turn—graduated, went to college up north, worked on a couple papers before I ended up back here. I’m trying to make a go of the whole journalism thing but I’m going to take some education classes, hedge my bets. Maybe I’ll end up back at our old school, teaching English in Mr. Pascal’s old room and being the faculty advisor for the drama club,” you said, running through the last twenty years and where you’d gotten to: back in Texas, not sure of yourself. Tonight, you were back in high school but now there was Joel, looking at you like you’d been away too long. Like he knew who you were then and he recognized you now and if anything, he was more interested, where interested was a good enough word for a journalist to use when a man looked at her like Joel was looking at you. 

“Not the advisor for the Herald?” Joel said. “I remember the drama kids being a hot mess most of the time.”

“If I end up back there, advising the Herald will be salt in the wound,” you said.

“Maybe not,” Joel said. “You’d be an amazing teacher and faculty advisor, I know it. And hey, I heard a piece on NPR when I was drivin’ the girls to school the other day and they couldn’t stop arguin’ about what station they wanted to listen to, so I pulled the dad card and picked, and they, the NPR folks, were talking about how lots of people want to support local news these days. Have some faith in yourself—”

“You don’t have to say that,” you replied. “No one comes to their high school reunion to give an old classmate a pep talk.”

“I came hoping to see my high school crush,” Joel said. “Hoping not to make a fool of myself. Hoping you would show up. That you wouldn’t be married or seeing someone…”

Here, he paused, shrugged, and you remembered you hadn’t said yet what your relationship status was.

“I’m single. Totally. Very single,” you said in a rush. 

“That’s a fuckin’ relief, Scout,” Joel said. “Maybe now we can have that dance?”

“Sure,” you said, reaching over to pick up your drink and toss it back. Liquid courage and all that. Joel put his hand on your wrist, lightly enough though it stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Don’t. Don’t want you too tipsy,” he said, his voice soft, maybe the voice he used with his younger daughter if she was having a hard time settling down. “I want you to be able to say yes and mean it.”

Okay, that was not the dad-voice. 

You left the drink untouched.

*

“Never would’ve believed this, back in the day,” Joel murmured. The DJ had switched over to what seemed like an endless medley of the popular slow dances of their high school era and every couple on the floor had reverted to the most basic sway, except for Maria Gonzalez, who was executing what looked like a professional tango with some guy whose name you couldn’t remember who’d been on the basketball team. You’d spent exactly one second trying to remember and then focused on how it felt to have Joel’s hands at your waist, his cheek grazing your temple. He was holding you close, so you could tell he smelled like cedar and leather, like he’d put on an actual cologne to get ready, but just enough. He’d been careful.

“Me neither,” you replied. “I never thought you thought about me like that.”

“Like this,” Joel corrected. Somehow, he brought you closer, his hips pressed snug against yours. “I thought for sure you knew. It wasn’t like I was real subtle—”

“What d’you mean?” you said.

“You serious, Scout? I caught so much flak for watchin’ you instead of the board, I was always hangin’ around your class or your locker. I sent you those pink carnations for Valentine’s Day senior year,” Joel said.

“Those were from a secret admirer,” you protested. “It was signed in block print. You literally wrote ‘from your secret admirer’ without a single hint or clue about how it was you. I thought my mom felt bad and had one of my friends buy them for me.”

“I figured you’d know it was me,” he said.

“How? Telepathy?” you said. Joel laughed and his hands tightened on your waist.

“Okay, maybe that one was on me. I liked you so goddamn much, I wanted you so bad, I thought you’d feel it,” Joel said. You both swayed together for a moment and you rested your cheek on his shoulder. You could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt, wished you were rubbing your cheek against his bare chest. Finding out what made him moan your name.

“This all right? Not too much?” he asked. 

“Is it past tense? Liking me, wanting me?”

“No. It’s so present tense I’m in danger of embarrassin’ myself,” Joel replied. 

You took one hand from the back of his neck and cupped his cheek, pressing a little to incline his head towards yours. You looked into his dark eyes and then, almost exaggerating, down at his lips. His left hand slipped down to your hip and then briefly touched your ass.

“That makes two of us, I guess,” you said.

“Not possible, darlin’,” he said, his voice, the endearment tender where his body was hard, demanding. He shifted so you’d feel his erection against your thigh, his arousal undeniable.

“This isn’t just messing around,” he said. “This isn’t just tonight, for me. If that’s all you want, I understand, but I can’t—”

“It’s not all I want. Tonight. It’s more than I thought could ever happen,” you paused, arched your back to get even closer to him, “but it’s not more than I want. You didn’t ask me why I came tonight—”

“Why did you?”

“Because someone said Miller was coming. Probably. Maybe. There was a chance you’d show up,” you said. “I bought this dress, these heels thinking you might show up and you’d see me across the room and smile. Maybe lift your beer up in sort-of a toast, like, lookin’ good, and then you’d go back to talking to your friends.”

“I really should have signed that Valentine’s Day card,” Joel said. “If that’s all you thought might happen.”

“Well, it’s all I expected was possible,” you said. “I hoped—”

You broke off then, because it was a lot to confess and also, Joel was now stroking the curve of your hip with his thumb and letting his lips touch your temple, the shell of your ear in what was basically a kiss and then definitely a kiss when you felt the tip of his tongue on your ear and gasped.

“What’d you hope for, Scout?” he said.

“That you’d be good with your hands. Able to help me with my zipper. It was tough to reach to get zipped up and I think it’d be a little tricky to get this dress off,” you said. He made a low sound in the back of his throat and thank God he’d somehow guided the pair of you over to a shadowy corner of the dance floor because you were in serious danger of someone yelling out Get a room already!

“I hoped you’d like black lace,” you said.

@tinytinymenace @goodwithcheese @tessa-quayle @sheepdogchick3 since there was perhaps some interest in more of this drabble, I (ahem) elaborated.

#tlou fanfic #joel miller #alternate universe #no apocalypse #high school reunion AU #joel/you #dad!joel miller #rom-com vibes #not the 10K words requested but an expansion pack #gets a little spicy

[undead-discourse]

Hey!! Are you a proshipper? Are you an anti? Please read this post, I want engagement from as many people of as many different opinions as possible!

I have a question that I made a temporary sideblog for because I’ve gotten completely different answers depending on who I ask this question (pro vs anti ship)

I fundamentally disagree with a lot of the “talking points” on either side, so I’m not really sure which camp I fit into (and the one I’m assigned usually changes to the opposite of whoever I’m talking to). So I thought it’d be really interesting to see what people have to say about this. I dunno, I like talking, and discussing media. Talk to me about media.

I’ve sorted these into two sections: opinions usually grouped with “proshippers” and opinions usually grouped with “antis.”

Proship Opinions:

Censorship is bad.

We should not censor the internet and banning legal content here is fruitless. It just doesn’t work, and it takes away efforts from restricting actually harmful content.

Harassment is also bad.

Even when the person being harassed is objectively disgusting and vile.

There is never any excuse to tell someone to kill themself. This feels so obvious, why are we even arguing this.

Restricting the content allowed on some sites (AO3) is kinda stupid.

FF.net and Wattpad are living examples of what happens when you restrict written content: it still gets in, but this time completely untagged and with no warning.

I hate AO3’s current policy and I don’t use the site because of that, but the alternative is so much worse, especially considering they can’t afford the extensive mod team that would require.

Just use the block button.

Getting all bent out of shape in someone’s askbox because of their content is completely pointless. You just exhaust yourself and waste your own energy thinking about this person when they definitely don’t give a fuck what you, some bitch on the internet, think of their content.

The easiest solution for your own wellbeing is just to block them and move on. Then you can never think about them again.

Fictional content is never the same as the real thing, and it’s insulting to survivors to insinuate it is.

No children are harmed by the creation of fictional content. Comparing it to real CP is a slap in the face to real survivors.

The concept of “problematic content” being bad by design is kinda dumb.

There are ways to handle anything in fiction tastefully. Your story can cover topics of sexual abuse, murder, exploitation, etc. without being “problematic.”

The reason for the content’s creation and posting greatly changes how it should be viewed and how the creator should be treated.

I’m reminded of Alfred’s Playhouse. It’s so obviously a cry for help, but everyone ignored it because of the gross and shocking subject matter shown. The creator is a disgusting person, but that is unrelated to her creation of Alfred’s Playhouse, a representation of her own real experiences.

It’s… So obvious to me when someone is suffering and using art to vent or call for help. These people aren’t the people we should be talking about when we discuss the handling of sensitive topics in fiction.

Anti Opinions:

The things you create/enjoy completely change the way I view you as a person, fundamentally.

I don’t think you can be a good person and enjoy thinking about fictional children being molested.

I cut people off if I find out they secretly enjoy this content.

Including ex-friends. It hurts and I feel betrayed, but I was not friends with, nor will I ever be friends with, someone who enjoys (whatever).

I think people deserve to know if one of their favorite artists is secretly into something reprehensible.

If a big artist I like had a secret twitter where they posted incest porn, I would be pissed if someone who knew didn’t tell me.

AO3 sucks.

Specifically because of their policy on RPF in reference to (underage) streamers. If someone requests that the NSFW content featuring them be deleted, AO3 should delete it. If someone goes to AO3 and requests they take down a specific fic about them, AO3 should delete it. But they didn’t, and they don’t. So I don’t use AO3.

“Problematic content” should be criticized when it is handled in offensive ways.

There are ways to handle topics such as child abuse, sexual exploitation, etc. tastefully and respectfully to victims, but when creators fail to do this, they deserve to have their treatment of the subject pointed out.

SEE MY ABOVE POINT ABOUT CREATORS WHO ARE SUFFERING, vent art does not fucking count and pointing out the way someone handles their own real experiences in their vent art makes you an asshole.

Proshipping as I’ve seen it looks like such an unhealthy coping mechanism.

To my knowledge, “shipping” means that you enjoy the dynamic between two (or more) characters, typically in a romantic or sexual way. Enjoying the romantic or sexual dynamic between a minor and an adult you headcanon to be grooming them is… So beyond fucked.

This is 100% not my business and I’m never gonna tell someone this, but it’s an opinion I personally hold that I’ve seen attached to antis before.

#proship #proshipper #profic #anti #antiship #antishipper #<= tagged both for reach #someone talk to me about this stuff i find it so interesting and weird

[pogostikk]

Info dumping rn cause I can’t seem to draw anything and I needed to engage in my au somehow.

There’s a lot I’d like to draw in my au that I haven’t been able to, particularly how Steven would entertain himself on Homeworld. He’s a small human in a giant palace with no purpose to busy himself with, of course he gets up to things when he’s not with Star.

And this was stuff he did before Connie, she had no idea how good at sneaking around Steven was till later.

Obviously it would be hard to get around without being noticed, I think Steven also wouldn’t enjoy the gawking stares when he wasn’t being picked up and brought back to (Star’s… Quarters? Chamber? I dunno) his room. But also occasionally some gem would get brave and be like oh wow Star’s “pet” is so adorable let me go say hi! Which is also uncomfortable bc who wants to be dehumanized?

Anyway getting off track here, Steven would be able to get around by going through secret pathways that led pretty much anywhere, I’m calling them the Pearl Pathways for now. I got inspired by the servants’ staircases, which were in Victorian houses of certain sizes. Apparently they were used because servants were expected to be out of sight when they were moving around (I haven’t done much research). Which is messed up, but I feel like gems would have a similar opinion of pearls. So I broadened the concept. And I think Steven would totally be allowed to enter them. Orchid probably introduced him to all the local pearls, and they could understand his experience of needing/wanting to stay out of sight, so he became a bit of an honorary pearl and was allowed entry. Which btw, pearls aren’t allowed to explore any hobbies or have any fun, so I imagine they get by by sharing all the tea they gather from standing by their gems all the time. And Steven totally gets to hear all the gossip, he knows all about the “scandalous” fusions, and the opinions of higher ranking gems that would never be spoken otherwise. If he was desperate and needed something done, he’d have blackmail. Lol

I honestly think Steven could befriend anyone, and with all those secret halls, I bet he found his way to those sentient gems made into architecture. The show never talked about them much, but I think they were harvested gems used to build the palaces or something of the like. I bet they get bored. And I bet they enjoy Steven’s company and laugh at all his corny clown jokes.

When Steven isn’t traveling the palace talking to pearls or architecture gems (I don’t know what else to call them), I honestly think he’d be reading. Orchid definitely taught him gemglyph. So he’d sometimes just read up on gem reports or the empire’s history on his (organic-accessible) screen.

And then when he gets bored of doing that he’d go find Star and beg him to hang out with him. And Star wants to hang out with Steven, he really does, but he can’t afford to neglect his court and god forbid anger the other diamonds. So then Star would see if Spinel could hang out with Steven. And that’s like a last resort because they kind of trouble they could cause could be catastrophic.

Steven is a total extrovert and overall just loves getting to know people. Star is the exact opposite, he doesn’t enjoy talking to people much but I also wonder if introversion and extroversion would even exist in gems? Like I bet they have their preferences regarding socializing but do they have like levels of energy that is based on how much they interact with others? Either way, Star isn’t a big fan of big groups of ppl or making tons of friends, he’s just a workaholic and his work involves talking to tons of gems. He doesn’t mind Steven’s presence though. Sometimes he’s not up to chatting endlessly or even hearing Steven go on talking from subject to subject (he can be up for it tho and it happens), and they’ll just do their own thing in each other’s company.

Anyways I’m done ranting now, if you made it this far congrats I hope this was somewhat entertaining.

#steven universe #su au #human steven #pink steven #connie maheswaran #I’ll probably do this again at some point so I can talk about what Steven and Connie did together when she came to Homeworld

[cy-cyborg]

So I have this character and I’ve been having some trouble deciding on what kinds of mobility aids she would use and what sorts of adaptive equipment she might use.

She’s an amputee. More specifically, she was born without feet on both legs, and she had her left leg amputated just above the knee due to a bone infection when she was about 8, and a couple of years ago she had her left arm amputated above the elbow after a workplace accident.

The setting is like basically our world but with magic (more complicated than that but that’s all you need to know for the ask lol.)

I was thinking that she mostly uses a wheelchair but has leg prosthetics for like situations where the wheelchair might be difficult to use (she finds the prosthetics uncomfortable and prefers her wheelchair.) I was wondering what sort of modifications her wheelchair might need to be easier to use one-handed and if you think her choices of mobility aid sounds realistic.

I’m also not entirely sure what sort of wheelchair she might use. I found some guides for choosing a wheelchair, but was wondering if you have any pointers. For reference, she lives in a large city, doesn’t spend much time in nature, and is like an average level of active. She doesn’t make enough to buy more expensive stuff on her own but her girlfriends and friends would probably help her afford stuff if needed. So like nothing ridiculously expensive but she can probably afford most stuff if she saves a bit and asks for help.

Also, she really likes weaving and other stuff like that and I was wondering if you know any good sources for adaptive equipment that people often use for doing that stuff one-handed?

Finally, since her job is making enchanted items and she’s really good at it, I was wondering what sorts of enchantments one might want to put on their mobility aids. I was thinking that since she has different mobility aids for different situations she could enchant them to like magically fold up so they fit in a bag for easier transport. I also think she’d probably make them able to change colours and light up and stuff like that.

(in case it’s important to know, I am disabled but I’m not an amputee) (also sorry this is so long and has so many questions I hope that’s ok?)

Hey there, sorry for the late answer! Honestly, I’m not sure I’m really the best person to help you here, but I’ll try my best!

So for the wheelchair first:

A lot of the wheelchair using arm amputees I know are below elbow amputees, so they were able to just push with their stump, but obviously that won’t work for your character. I do remember playing wheelchair basketball with one woman who was hemiplegic though (meaning one side of her body was paralysed, in her case I think it was her left side). She was able to push an unmodified basketball wheelchair (manual chairs that tend to be lighter-weight, with tilted wheels and in her case, taller than a standard chair), and did so when playing, bu her day chair was a regular, ridged-frame wheelchair that had a kind of modified smartdrive on it. Most of the smart drives I’ve seen attach to manual wheelchairs at the back and are basically an extra, big wheel that’s powered. The one I have works like cruise control in a car, you push your regular wheels, get up to speed and the smartdrive maintains it for you. Her’s though had a detachable control panel at the front of the chair with a joystick that made her manual chair function like a powered one. I also used to follow a creator on youtube who’s unfortunately deactivated her account it seems, who was a trilateral amputee (missing both legs and an arm) who used a standard power chair.

Something like either of those might be a good option for your character, but you’d be better off trying to find someone with either a similar arm amputation (who also uses a wheelchair) or someone with a disability that impacts both their upper and lower body to get advice from on that front.

Cost wise, I can’t offer much advice other than to look up prices for actual wheelchairs similar to what you decide on to make sure it’s realistically in your character’s price range. Where I live, the government pays for my major mobility aids like my wheelchair, so cost isn’t really an issue, therefor I can’t really advise on cheaper alternatives if the things I already suggested aren’t in your character’s price range, sorry.

I’m not really familiar with weaving and stuff like that, so again, I can’t really offer any advice there sorry, but for enchantments:

Either a folding enchantment like you said, or teleportation. my biggest pet-peeve as someone with multiple mobility aids is that they are a pain to carry, and the first thing I would do in a fantasy setting is make them able to teleport to me lol. Other than that and the colour changing ones you already mentioned, the only other enchantments I can think of would be something that would let me use my phone while pushing my chair (like something that holds my phone or other similar device up to me while I’m moving) or something that would let my wheelchair travel over rough terrain without having to swap out my wheels. If you want some ideas for other enchantments though, I’d highly recommend checking out Mustangart on twitter (I think he’s also on bluesky too) - he created the combat wheelchair for D&D 5e which has a bunch of cool optional enchantments you can get for the chair. I try to avoid twitter these days but last time I was there he had the documentation for it linked in his bio. Likewise, Pathfinder 2e also has some cool options for fantasy prosthetics and wheelchairs in the “Grand Bazaar” and “gears and guns” book (I might be wrong, but I think Mustangart consulted with the Pathfinder 2e creators for that book). both of these are for more traditional fantasy settings of course but you might be able to find some ideas. For the Pathfinder 2e ones, the website “archive of Nethys” has pretty much everything for free.

#q&a #q&a time

[abastardworthknowing]

this is probably silly but

I thought of a human au where Aziraphale owns a flat block in a small town and Crowley moves into one of the houses.

He’s the same as in the show, where he waives tennant’s flat fees if they can’t afford it (forget about it this month and just focus on making sure you eat and pay for your wellbeing. If you can pay me next month do, but i’d rather you looked after yourself first.) Most of his tennants try to pay him anyway, and he really doesn’t mind/ care because the only thing he has to pay for on the property is utilities. (in this country if your landlord includes utilities in the rent they are either very kind or something shady is going on lmao, it tends to be included in student rent though.)

anyway the reason i thought of this is because in sims now you can play as a landlord. as though that’s oh so stressful. All you need to do, with your thousands of pounds of rent, is make sure your tenants houses are liveable. No-one is asking for more, if they are, ngl who cares. YOU’RE A LANDLORD. *shakes fist at Maxis*

also like i can just imagine all of the tenants really liking aziraphale because he’s such a different landlord versus the ones irl haha, and they’re probably long term tenants. Maybe he does this to help people save to buy themselves permanent homes?

Anyway Crowley ends up letting a space in the block, and aziraphale does all the niceties of making sure he’s settled in asking him if he needs anything. Only the difference here is aziraphale is obviously like phwoar at Crowley and Crowley is the same back. But there’s a power imbalance. He doesn’t want the attraction to be a lie. (In so far as Crowley is only attracted to him because he’s nice/ feels obligated to sleep with him because aziraphale is nice etc)

Anyway in the end after aziraphale gives in and believes Crowley likes him because *he’s aziraphale* (I think I’d call him Ezra Fell, I know someone called Ezra irl also it sounds close to Israfel! :O anyway tangent)

Side Idea: The other arch angels are his half siblings, perhaps? OR maybe Aziraphale was born into a benevolent (? hah he wishes) gang. But idk if i like the gang idea. I do like God is Azi’s parent idea though. but in a butch way. and a we made money legitimately somehow *wink* way.

Gabriel, Michael, Sandalphon and Uriel are his half siblings. like each have their own parent, type deal maybe? Maybe Gabriel and Michael have the same parent? (no reason just an idea)

Or perhaps Uriel and Aziraphale share a parent, and Uriel wants nothing to do with the family, but was born into power anyway.

idk anyway the point is the family are well off. Maybe god is a business person and is rich af. owns stocks and all that? Then gave Aziraphale (and the others) loads of money and Azi was like thanks much appreciated this feels dirty and i need to use it right. So he does a lot of community work and funding work + you know houses people who need it.

Also the tennants’ money goes straight towards the property. He otherwise doesn’t touch it cause he’s literally loaded. Plus owns a bookshop and stuff. Not that he sells the books. But. He needs his family to think he’s doing *something* to earn money (Gabriel calls him lazy regularly. Bastard.)

uhhh this idea ran away with me whoops

@harleybecomecrowley so you see this but i’ll let u know in disc too :D <3

#go aziraphale #go crowley #gomens #good omens #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #I ran with this idea so hard i had to put it on the blog #also i wanna play sims #but it sucks #this level of story telling does not exist in that game i gotta imagine it 😭 #azaria.text #azaria.idea

[iamthemaestro]

hi!! sorry to bother i just have a question regarding neapolitan mandolins aueueu.. for my birthday my dads gonna get me a mandolin and since we're neapolitan i was like "how about a neapolitan mandolin :3c ?" and he was like "ahsdj uhh hard to get hands on do you want an a shaped one or an f shaped one." im doing research by myself on which one is more similar but i also would like to consult an expert (or certified music nerd, whichever title you prefer). thank you for your time :3

hey! I am by no means an expert, just a guy who fiddles around a lot, but I can totally tell you about what my experience has been.

while I love my neapolitan, especially as a History Person, I honestly don’t think there’s a specific benefit to using one unless you’re specifically intending to do more classical repertoire. in my experience the tone is somewhat different but the most significant distinction is that either an F or an A style flatback is way louder, which, given that I do mostly folk rep in groups, has been a huge advantage. these days I use my A style instrument more than the neapolitan, which I admit is partially because I think it’s just a better quality instrument with nicer tone/tuning/clarity of sound, but it’s also just a lot more versatile and easier for my fellow musicians to hear. I do think there is an advantage to starting on a flatback if this is your first time playing if only in the sense that they’re easier to hold and the neck is wider, and they’re just a lot more versatile (also neapoltian CASES are almost harder to find than the actual instruments are… I literally use a soft bari uke case for it because I don’t have a proper one). obviously I’m biased based on the quality of my individual instruments, since I think my A style is just objectively a better constructed instrument, but I prefer to use the A style when I’m playing, and especially performing, in groups, and usually save the neapolitan for historical reenactments and places where I prioritize period accuracy over a really clear/loud sound.

as for A vs F style I honestly can’t speak way too much about them… I will say I am fortunate enough to have had access to multiple instruments, and when I was choosing based purely on sound I picked the A style instrument that I currently use over a similar quality F style, but that very well could have just been a result of the quality of the individual instruments—I haven’t had a ton of general experience actually playing on either style in specific. it seems like a lot of bluegrass people seem to prefer the F style, and certainly it visually looks more bluegrassy, but I honestly don’t think there’s going to be a huge difference in sound. an A style instrument might be a little more affordable and sound nearly identical, but again people always seem to associate F style with bluegrass so maybe there is a tone difference or something that I don’t know about.

it’s hard to say which would be more similar to a neapolitan just because they’re both pretty similar to each other, but I’ve been personally very happy playing on an A style as someone who started on a neapolitan. however I do play 90% folk repertoire and not classical or bluegrass, as mentioned, and on top of that I do mostly rhythm. I’m not a professional by any means but any solo stuff I play still has a very clear and pleasing sound and I can’t imagine why it wouldn’t be a very fine solo instrument. I’m not sure what kind of repertoire you’re interested in but I think either style would still be usable in any context that isn’t, like, a professional classical setting. I dunno, sorry that this doesn’t really give you an answer per se, but I hope that gives you some insight as like… a neapolitan to A style convert lol.

#asks #mandolin #music

[godesssiri]

Another 10 Thrifting tips

I’ve written a few posts about thrifting tips and recently I’ve watched a few Youtube videos and had a few thrifting experiences that have crystalized a couple of things for me.

Hold out for the perfect piece. For the last year I’ve had a side table beside my couch that was literally just a marble cutting board glued on top of a wire plant stand. It wasn’t quite tall enough, it wasn’t quite wide enough, it had no storage. But it was good enough to serve until I found the right thing – I was holding out for the perfect side table and today I found it. Not too big, not too small, wide enough with a storage shelf underneath to hold all the bits I want to keep next to the couch but don’t want cluttering up the table top. It took me a year to find the right one and I could have bought a dozen almost-right side tables in that time but I’m so glad I held out. Use something that’s not perfect but works well enough for now, it is totally worth it to hold out for the perfect piece.

“Rent” pieces from the thrift store. Something that’s good enough for now can be purchased from a thrift store and go right on back when it’s no longer needed/wanted. Pay a small amount for filler piece to serve until you find the perfect piece. Whether that’s furniture or decor or household items. If you need something and can’t afford to shell out $$$ to buy the perfect piece now, buy a good enough piece from the thrift store and when you don’t need it, re-donate and consider the price you originally paid a rental fee. If you pay $20 for an okay chair and use it for a year until you find THE chair, then your $20 isn’t wasted.

If you have 5000 re-usable bags your local thrift store will be grateful for them.

Gallery walls are the easiest way to inject individuality into a space and the easiest way to acquire unique pieces for a gallery wall is to scour thrift stores.

ART. You can pick up real actual art at thrift stores. I’ve got some lovely paintings and ink drawings that I’ve picked up thrifting and I’ve never paid more than $30 for a piece of original art. Go on buy that weird art that speaks to you, have a home that doesn’t look like everyone else’s.

Frames. I don’t remember the last time I bought a new frame. If I want to frame something I go to the thrift store and find something that I like the frame but not what’s in it. It’s soooooo easy to re-use thrifted frames. Often I’ll buy frames when I don’t even have anything to put in them, I keep a stash of great frames that I’ll use one day.

Learn to let things go to other people. It can be really hard when you come across something that’s a really good deal! Or it’s so unique! Or it’s almost perfect! You can really like or even love something and still leave it at the thrift store if you don’t need or have a place for it or it’s not quite right. It’s okay, give yourself permission to let it go and know that someone else is gonna love it. (Of course, if you go back and it’s still there then obviously you were meant to have it)

Any vessel can be a plant pot. Either use it as a cover pot for a plastic nursery pot or invest in a drill bit made for ceramic and drill your own drainage holes. I have a lot of plants and I go around the thrift store going ‘I could put a plant in that’. Yes, I have a cactus in a chamber pot.

Learn what things are worth, this is how you spot the diamonds in the rough and how you know when something’s overpriced. Watch re-sellers on Youtube, (Laura Caldwell, The Crazy Lamp Lady, The Antique Nomad and Real Nifty Vintage are all very knowledgeable and are very generous with their knowledge) you can learn so much from someone who thrifts for a living. If you see something you like then look it up, just plug every description you can think of into Google, I find it helpful to look at the Image results and check out anything that looks like the thing I’m searching. Search things on Ebay, FB Marketplace, whatever website people use to sell their second-hand stuff in your country. Look for very detailed listings that give a lot of info about the piece. Usually if the listing has a lot of info it’s because the seller knows what they’ve got and what it’s worth so you can learn a lot even if you’re not going to buy from them.

When buying second-hand online use very general search terms. I go on FB Marketplace every few days and just search the terms ‘antique’ and ‘vintage’ to see what cool old stuff is available in my area. This is how you pick things up cheap from people who don’t know exactly what it is they’ve got. I also am obsessed with vases and once a week will go on Trademe (the New Zealand equivalent of Ebay) and look under Antiques & Collectables and just scroll through all the vases. It’s amazing how often someone’s advertising something as vintage or retro when I recognize it is way older than they think and they’re way under-pricing it - I’ve got a WW1 trench-art vase being sent to me right now that I bought for a whole 25 bucks, it’s probably worth about 150.

Part 1

Part 2

#thrifting #fuck capitalism #sustainability #eco home #thrift shopping

[uefb]

Final chapter of The Riot Act link

Summary: In which the Scamanders write a lot of letters; Uncle Hesiod is effectively blackmailed by every single member of Newt’s family (including Newt himself); Theseus shows every shade of who he is and who he will become; and Newt and his father have a bit of a “glow-up”, as the kids say in the year of our lord 2023. (Click for relatable Newt & Theseus meme.)

Also, 11-year-old Newt dropping truths: “I know I annoy people, Uncle Hesiod, but I think all creatures must be met with a baseline level of compassion, and I wonder if I am sometimes not afforded that because I am different.”

Gifs by @whumpypepsigal

Excerpt (opening letters):

7AM

Floo Telegram (extra charge for weight)

Helios Scamander to Rowan Scamander

Dear Rowan,

Wanted to let you know that Newt’s day at the Ministry was rather awful. It sounds like he comported himself reasonably well, while Hesiod—on the other hand—behaved beastly. I expect we’ll be dealing with the damage for a week or so. No “fairies”, per se, but he’s gone a bit more quiet than usual, so I’m giving him the day with Theseus and his projects to see if that helps.

All that being said, Newt is—strictly speaking—physically all right, so there’s absolutely no need to worry on that front. (No doxy disasters or broken limbs, thank Merlin.) However, you and I will need to have a good long talk, I’m afraid. Make some decisions about the nature of our own relationship with Hesiod and my family generally, as well as revisit more realistic plans for Newt’s future. And then also, on quite a more basic level, we must contend with the now (while somehow not reinforcing the mess Hesiod has dumped into our laps—he planted some rather upsetting ideas in Mud’s fertile little head). Nevertheless, our son went on a bit of a solitary nighttime wander after, more or less, lying to me by omission… So that’s obviously behaviour that must be addressed. I’ve just absolutely no clue how to do it.

Anyway - I’ll be bringing him home tomorrow after work. (And yes — Theseus and I have both enchanted him to within an inch of his life. If he so much as sneezes before we’re back in Derbyshire, we’ll know it.) T has requested to come along. I shall tell you all the details in person, as I’ve got my hands surprisingly full on the one with an enraged 19-year-old who still thinks I can’t tell when he’s scheming; and, on the other, with an 11-year-old, who apparently requires magnificently compelling evidence just to convince him to eat his damn breakfast.

With love,

Helios

7:20AM

Floo Telegram

Rowan Scamander to Helios Scamander

Helios — So sorry to hear it went horribly but happy to know he mostly behaved(?). Unsurprised he fled the flat if upset, though still unacceptable. (How in the world did he get past you, though?) Must admit, am quite worried without details, esp. if T is concerned enough to leave training. Floo chat, please? Or at least summarise? Regarding breakfast: If you move whatever N is working on to left of his plate and then push plate twd him, he’ll typically eat w/out realising he’s doing it. (But thank him when he finishes, so he notices he’s done the routine—we don’t want him starving at Hogwarts…!) Please give both our boys my love.

8AM

Letter

Helios Scamander to Hesiod Scamander

Dearest brother,

I’ve been made aware that Newt’s visit to the Ministry yesterday did not go the way either of you had hoped. Certainly, I heard the tale from Theseus who had had to wrangle it from Newt in fits and starts, but the boy keeps incredibly detailed notes about creatures or interactions that fascinate, inspire, or confound him; and I’d assume he’s classed yours as confounding. I’ll be sending him to the grocer at some point, during which time I plan to unashamedly steal his journal and read all about it myself. So you may rest assured the truth shan’t be twisted by the party line. (That’s a Muggle invention, Hesiod. Quite novel. Not that you would know.)

So, here is the heart of it, brother:

I did not think I needed to make this clear as I’ve already done so in the past… But I do not need your assistance in rearing my son. I have appreciated your efforts to show interest and befriend him this past year, but I’m afraid I will be putting a stop to that, as well. You will not lay hand or wand on him. You will not reprimand him. You will not disclose information—to him or anyone else—that Rowan and I have kept to ourselves for a reason. You will bring any and all concerns directly to me instead of breaking the heart of a child. Furthermore, Newt will be doing any future career preparation with myself or with Rowan; and you are not to even speak to him without one of us present.

Finally… Newt has requested he be allowed to write you an apology for his behaviour—he is a far better man than me, because I didn’t intend to make him do that—as well as “tell [you] some thoughts”. As Newt’s not typically one for telling anyone thoughts of any sort if they’re not specifically about animals, I’m hardly going to discourage him... However, because we will be using this as an opportunity to practice letter-writing and grammatics, I expect it may take a few days, as his Mum and I are both busy through Saturday.

A word of warning: Theseus has just left the flat with a look on his face that usually means trouble, so I do hope you enjoy the visit.

Your loving brother,

Helios

P.S. - Please send any mail beginning tomorrow evening to the Derbyshire address.

8:20AM

Floo Telegram

Helios Scamander to Rowan Scamander

Rowan — Thanks for suggestion. Breakfast eaten. (Who knew earthworm digestive systems were so compelling.) Regarding floo: Can’t while N’s around. But he’s more chipper now, so I’ll try to have T take him out for chips at tea.

The summary is that N repeatedly spoke out of turn + H rather severely punished him. Please don’t discuss in detail w N until home. T + I are handling it delicately and T’s off to MOM right now so there may be nothing of H left for you to worry about, anyway

#literally choosing an excerpt from this was impossible bc there aren’t stand alone moments that don’t ruin the character arcs when pulled #in isolation #ah well #fic: the riot act #my stuff #newt Scamander #Theseus Scamander #oc ch: rowan scamander #oc_ch: Helios Scamander #oc_ch: Hesiod Scamander #I didn’t mean to make Hesiod as dislikable as he is — every time I tried to give him redeeming qualities Helios showed up and said something #new and I was like — huh. I think maybe he might really be over 50% just a dick #and here we are #I mean all the characters are pretty complicated but he still sucks lmao #Scamander brothers #autistic newt scamander #young newt scamander

[out-of-the-forest-i-come]

On book piracy

This post is probably going to be a long one, and I hope it reaches people. I’m not here to be aggressive and yell at people who do or don’t condone book piracy. This post is mostly meant to be informational, so please, if book piracy is something that interests you or that you engage in, do bear with me until the end. And if you wish to oppose arguments at the end of this post, you are welcome to do so in a civil manner (I can’t guarantee I’ll answer you because I have a lot of things going on at the moment, but if you are hateful I guarantee you I will not answer you either way). 

As a disclaimer and so you know where I am coming from, I would like to inform you I am not in the publishing industry and have never been, but I am a writer and hope to one day be able to be traditionally published. As such, I have done rather extensive research on publishing and inevitably, on book piracy, how authors are paid, and how piracy affects authors. I obviously don’t know all the details of how the industry works, but I know the rough structure of it (this information is easily available online if you want to check) and I believe it is enough to write this post. I’m also a student and don’t come from a rich family. While I am not poor and don’t have to worry about having a roof on my head or food on my plate, and while I am lucky enough to live in a country where I don’t have to worry about being arrested for the kind of content I consume, I am still not able to buy all the books I want to read. On top of that, I nowadays read almost solely in english, while living in a non-english-speaking country, which means I can’t have access to english books through my local libraries at all. 

That being said, I also want to tell you I used to pirate books. In fact, the last time I downloaded a book illegally was only a few months ago. I have downloaded hundreds of books this way (and, frankly, not read a great deal of them). I started during quarantine (I was in highschool at the time) because I wanted to read books I did not have and that I did not want to pay for them. My parents knew and did not care. My arguments to justify it to myself were that I could not afford to buy all the books I wanted to read, that I could not get them through the local library, that I was only one person and it would hurt no one, and that if I liked the book I would buy it anyway. I can only speak for myself, of course, but out of the books I read illegally and enjoyed, I only bought a few in the end. Because when I could afford to buy books, I chose to buy books I had not already read. 

The argument that I was only one person and would not hurt anyone was wrong. Did authors feel the difference when I stopped? No, because I am only one person and do not control everyone who downloads books illegally. But participating in book piracy, even just by myself, does make a difference, especially for small authors. And also because I did not hesitate to recommend this method of acquiring books to others (again, I can only speak for myself here, but I have seen enough posts on the Internet to know that people who pirate books tend to recommend that others do it too, which in the end has a great impact on the number of people who pirate books). 

The belief that it would not hurt anyone, that piracy has no real consequences because not enough people do it, was also wrong. First of all, because more and more people resort to piracy, and not all of them are poor or live in non-english-speaking countries. A growing number does it because it’s easy and they don’t want to spend money on books. Second of all, because I think we don’t realize how the publishing industry really works. I think a lot of us still have in mind an idealized way of functioning of the industry, or the old way of functioning. And it’s normal, because it’s a complex industry and no one ever bothers explaining to us how it works. 

I only started realizing how hurtful piracy could be when I saw a post about how Maggie Stiefvater’s series Call Down the Hawk was almost cancelled because of book piracy. I was aware, at that point, that small authors could be impacted by piracy because they didn’t have many readers and so needed their readers to actually buy the book or at least access it legally. But I thought it was alright if I pirated books by well-known and successful authors. So when I saw that post, I was shocked.

I did research. I think I had in mind, like many people probably do or did, that successful authors were all millionaires who would not need to work for a single day in their life if they chose to. Who could very comfortably live on the money made from their one successful book series, and that any other book they would publish would also be successful and bring in millions. I basically had in mind J.K. Rowling (sorry for the reference, but at least it gets the point across since she is a billionaire) or Neil Gaiman. But we forget that they published their first books decades ago, and that the industry has changed a lot since. The market is getting more and more competitive, and it is hard even for successful authors to stay afloat. 

I highly recommend, if that’s a topic you’re interested in, that you go and look for authors’ social media. I personally found information notably on Xiran Jay Zhao’s social media (I can’t remember whether I found the most information on their TikTok or Tumblr) but also on Victoria Aveyard’s TikTok. (Whether you like these authors and their books doesn’t really matter for this topic.) I learned through both, and a little through Brandon Sanderson as well, that in this day and age, authors basically need to be influencers if they want their books to sell. Back when Rowling or Gaiman first published their books, it didn’t work like that at all. There was no social media, to start with, but the publishers took care of the marketing if they thought the book would work out.

Now, not so much. For really big books that the publishers are confident are going to work, they do take care of the marketing. That does not mean the author can afford to do no promotion at all and be absent from social media. As Victoria Aveyard reveals, there are actually very few authors today who can afford that and still be able to make a living. She is not even one of them. It may sound shocking; the Red Queen series had massive success, and now Realm Breaker does as well. Aveyard lives comfortably, and doesn’t try to hide it, and she’s very honest about how privileged and lucky she got. But her career could still collapse in a matter of years. She could still need to find another job in a few years. Despite being popular and earning a living as an author now. 

This is, I think because of two factors. The first one is that whatever money authors make is not a consistent income. Authos are often paid in two ways: the advance and, if they manage to outearn that advance, the royalties (outearning means that their books basically need to pay back the advance to the publisher before they can get royalties on the excess of money made). Advances vary from author to author, but I have seen posts that said authors made five-figures advances regularly and that popular authors like Cassandra Clare, Maggie Stiefvater and Victoria Aveyard were all millionaires. The five-figure advance cited was a 10k advance that was allegedly given to authors every year, and the person making that argument said it was more than enough to live on in, especially in Europe. 

Now, I don’t know where exactly that person comes from. I live in Europe, and I guarantee you 10k a year is not enough. 10k a year is uncomfortable at best in most countries because life is expensive. In the US, 10k a year is impossible to live on, from what I know of the US. Another thing I want to say is that this number of 10k is false. Most authors don’t make 10k a year because most authors are not popular enough to. Most authors earn four-figures advances that they will never outearn. Most authors can’t afford to be full-time authors because of that. And for those who do have bigger advances and do outearn them, we still don’t know how much they make exactly. Victoria Aveyard has to keep a consistent presence on social media to make sure her books sell enough to keep living as a full-time author. Xiran Jay Zhao had to delay the release of Heavenly Tyrant because they were not making enough money to afford living as a full-time author and thus could not finish writing it in time for it to be published last August as planned. 

Authors definitely don’t earn as much as you think they do, even popular ones. So imagine how little less popular ones earn. 

Is it the publishers’ fault? Yes, it is. Publishers don’t pay authors and agents and editors what they should, and instead increase CEOs’ salary every year. That’s true. But it’s also true that authors, agents, and editors complain all the time and it changes nothing. Which means author’s salary does depend on the sales they make. 

Another thing that people may not be aware of is that series are only continued and foreign rights only acquired if the publisher thinks it will make enough money to be worth it. Maggie Stiefvater almost could not continue Call Down the Hawk because it did not make enough money. And the problem here was allegedly (I say allegedly because I don’t have actual numbers, but I’m willing to believe it is true) that Call Down the Hawk was highly popular but too many people read it illegally, and thus did not buy it. And while authors do enjoy when their books are popular, publishers don’t care about popularity and the size of a fandom if it doesn’t bring them money.

Publishers aren’t doing this for the love of literature, they’re doing this to make money. They think in terms of money only, and they don’t care if you say you’ll buy the book later. They care about now and about making the maximum profit. It’s unfortunate, but it’s true. And so, if foreign publishers see that a book is popular abroad but highly pirated, they won’t buy foreign rights. Which means, in the end, that if you pirate books because they’re not accessible in your country, it’s a vicious cycle that will never end. 

Now, I can’t tell you what to do. I’m not here to tell you’re a monster for pirating books either. I understand. I used to do it, and I’m trying to do better now, but I know how tempting it is. And it’s easy to find excuses, whether they are valid or not. In the end, it’s up to you. Maybe you think you have valid excuses and I’m not here to analyze whether they are or not. I don’t know your situation. But before finishing this post, I do want to dive a little more in the why we pirate books. 

I think there are two reason, and the first one is that we do not perceive creating art as a real job. As someone who writes, I can tell you it’s a fucking real job alright. It’s not my full-time job but it is time consuming and it takes a lot of work to write a novel. But I think our society (because it is a societal problem, not an individual one) does not perceive that as work. I think we see it as a hobby only, and while it is a passion, it is also a job because it takes so much effort. And because of that, it is only fair to remunerate authors correctly. For any other job, you would agree, I’m sure, that the worker needs to be paid a decent wage. It’s the same when it comes to art. Now, again, does the problem lie within the publishers? Yes, it does. I don’t have numbers, but I’m certain publishers could afford to pay the authors a higher percentage and still make profit. But the problem is also in the sales. Because no matter how much a publisher pays the author, if there are no sales, there will be no salary. And in my opinion, art deserves to be remunerated. 

This is tied to the second reason, which is that we (again, we as a society) feel like we are owed art. Now, is art nice? Yes, I love it in all its forms. Do I think we could survive as a society without art? Absolutely not. Which is why access to culture is very important. But we should not create that access to the author’s detriment. That is not the way to create that access. And even if you don’t think authors should be paid for what they do, I want to remind you that if they can’t be paid, they’ll end up not publishing their books, which means we’ll end up without access to literature either way. But also, we are not entitled to every piece of literature there is, or every piece of art. Free-domain books and libraries exist for a reason, and it’s to promote access to culture. But we are not entitled to having free content that we cannot pay for if not paying harms the author. We are not entitled someone else’s work in exchange for nothing. And I think we as a society tend to think that we are, in fact, entitled to everything we want for free.

Again, I can’t tell you what to do. I won’t tell you you’re immoral or that you’re the reason authors will perish. As I’ve said before, I don’t know your situation, and this debate, like many others, is one that demands some nuance. But I wanted you to be aware of the consequences of book piracy, because we too often think it doesn’t have any substantial consequences. As for the argument that book piracy still promotes a book, I think it might have been true once but it isn’t anymore. Or at least, not in any way that’s helpful, because as I’ve said before, publishers don’t care if a book is popular if they don’t think people are going to buy it. So please, be aware of those consequences the next time you want to download a book illegally. Be aware that authors are not being greedy, that the harm is very much real. Weigh the pros and the cons without thinking only about your personal situation. And then make your choice, without harassing people who will have made a different choice and without taking the moral high ground. 

If you’ve read until here, thank you, I know this was an ungodly long post. If you want to argue or if you have questions, you are welcome to do so in a civil manner and I’ll do my best to respond. But no hate will be condoned.

#books #book piracy #authors #writers #book discourse #book piracy discourse #zlibrary #libgen #free books #out of the forest out of the brain

[magdaclaire]

ch 3 of my katemary fic

find ch 1 here

find ch 2 here

now on ao3

She's a little more nervous making her way through the hospital this time. The opposite should be true- she should have been unbelievably anxious coming to see Kate on her own for the first time, and easy now that they're almost friends and Sam and Dean will be there to give them a connection point. Adam isn't going to be with them, obviously, as it's one of the few days of the week that he is at daycare rather than in the hospital's childcare for employees. From what Kate has said, Adam goes to daycare twice a week to see other babies, but she can't really afford more.

She almost wants to offer her services in credit card fraud, but that's not really what she does anymore; she's got kids to worry about, and money can be earned honestly a lot easier than getting out of jail. Then comes the idea to offer Kate hustling money, and she can't do that either. Most people don't generally consider money earned hustling honestly earned either, and it's not like Mary has a real job. She puts a stop to the cyclic thoughts in her head right when they get to the employee section of the cafeteria.

"Mary! Hey kids. You guys come sit down, your Mama and I will go get you food. Tessa, can you keep an eye on them?" Kate asks, all of her words and exclamations flowing together to Mary's ears. Kate is so confident about taking control of a situation that it makes Mary's head spin, this woman who greets her children and gives them instructions (that they follow!) without batting an eye. Mary can only imagine her when Adam is older, her future of a well behaved boy who loves her immensely, because a child that loves Kate immensely is the only way that Mary can imagine Adam growing up. Kate startles her from her staring with a delicate placement of two fingers against the pulse point in Mary's wrist, and then she's looking at Kate very close up. More close, she swears, than Kate was the last time she looked up.

"Let's get food, yeah?" Kate asks, giving her a strange look. Mary nods.

"Lead the way," she says, pushing back the rest of the thoughts in the forefront of her mind. Kate gives her a smile before turning an about face, complete 180 in the apparent direction of food. There's a corner one has to turn before seeing what section of the cafeteria is next, so it hadn't even occurred to Mary to look in that way.

"How was your drive here? How far were you?" her companion asks, fingers finding Mary's pulse point again now that they're walking in the same direction. Kate is a bit touchier than Mary would have guessed from her hard exterior, but she likes it, the warm burn of her touch. It's nice to receive affection from someone besides her sons for the first time in a long while, and nice for it to be Kate that is touching her.

"We were only coming from Sioux Falls again. I had taken a case in the next state over, so the boys were with Bobby for a time again," she says. It's almost like they're having two conversations, given all that she isn't saying. She thinks maybe the boys like staying with Bobby more than they like coming with her, thinks maybe they need more stability than this lifestyle gives a child, but she and John both do this anyway. She does it because it's all she's ever known. She's still not sure why John does it. Looking for the demon that ruined his fairy tale picture of a life, maybe. Like they weren't fighting all the time before a demon crashed the party, but whatever.

"Bobby?" Kate asks, and Mary realizes that she doesn't know if she's ever actually said Bobby or Rufus or Ellen's names to Kate specifically. Just said the boys were in Sioux Falls, at the Roadhouse, wherever she had left them.

"Their uncle. He and his partner take care of them when I have to go on a case, makes it so I'm not risking anything more than I can bare out there, and gives them a bit more stability," she explains, shrugging a shoulder as she and Kate both grab two plates each. She wasn't sure how she planned to balance her plate, Sam's, and Dean's, so she's unspeakably grateful Kate is picking up some of her slack.

"Partner? You know, talking to you is like pulling teeth sometimes, asking question after question to get at something," Kate says, the two sentiments once again running together, like she doesn't have the time for the pause between two subjects. Mary gives her a grin, not knowing what else to offer.

"I get used to not talking sometimes, I suppose. Dean and Sam are always running a mile a minute after I get them back, and then I'm interviewing, so I'm not talking, and then I'm talking to friends about what's going on in their life. Suppose it never occurs to me to talk all that much. Oh, and Bobby's partner's name is Rufus. He only lives there sometimes; he goes on cases too," she says, falling back into that way of referencing hunting that would have confused the hell out of her when she was still hunting with her parents.

Daddy didn't call them cases. He only ever called them hunts.

"People in the- community? They can be partners without one of them going out?" Kate asks, her voice sounding like her mind is far away despite Kate being by Mary's side. Mary shrugs a shoulder.

"Bobby goes out sometimes, but no, he's usually running a home base sort of setup. Some people make it work," she says. "Me and John never could; as soon as things went to shit, he wanted to get out there on the scene. Barely even wanted my help."

"You... did cases? Before John?" Kate asks, looking at Mary sideways as she scoops potatoes onto all four plates. Mary serves them all some of the meat provided as well, unsure exactly of what it is, but willing to risk it all for some protein. They're already at the hospital, right? If there's any place to get food poisoning.

"I started when I was a kid," she says, grabbing a bag of apple slices for both Sam and Dean. She thinks again and grabs one for herself as well. "My Mama and Daddy did casework too."

"And you were raised in that?" Mary keeps her tongue behind her teeth for a second, waits out the expected burst of panic-anger, that old thing that reminds her that her boys are being raised just like she was, the way she promised herself she wouldn't raise them. All of the guilt and grief she has for the childhood she's made these boys have, she can't stop herself neither. The idea of leaving them somewhere all the time, of not being with them for as much time as she can, it makes her skin itch.

"Yeah, I reckon so," she says after a second, chewing on the inside of her lip. She doesn't know how to articulate all of it, so she doesn't say much. Story of her life.

"I can see why you have the boys with you, then. Must be hard to be separated from the two of them on the road," Kate says, and she understands something that Mary can't even put to words. She smiles at her plate, shuffling the two of them and their four plates down the line. She doesn't reply to Kate verbally, doesn't really know how to- even with John, he didn't understand her as well as he could have, but it's nice to have someone understand. It's strange. After a few moments, during which they purchase their food and begin heading back to Kate's coworkers and the boys, Kate bumps her a little, though not enough to knock any of their plates.

"You're quiet again," she says, as if Mary hasn't said more in the last few meetings with Kate than she has to another adult in more time than she'd like to admit. Ellen and Bobby both try to make her talk, Missouri tries to wait her out, Rufus drinks with her, but she still can't make herself open up.

"Just... wanna get back to my boys," she says, and Kate ducks her head.

"Yeah, I get that," she says. Mary feels bad for the mention of them, feels bad that Kate works a real job and she doesn't, just feels bad. It wasn't a way to cut Kate off (except that teeny tiny bit of it that was), it was just so she wouldn't have to feel so much. Especially not in front of somebody.

“Sorry,” she says lowly, looking down at the trays in her hands. Kate looks at her with a weight she can feel, and she lays down one of her trays on a table just to put her hand on Mary’s shoulder, making her look up. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, Mary. Even if I’d like to think we’re on our way to being friends, I’m still practically a stranger. Don’t feel like you have to tell me anything, alright?” Kate says. Mary ducks her head with a smile, and Kate picks back up the plate she put down just to have a hand on Mary, and they move on. The boys are in sight when Mary speaks again, though not loud enough or them to hear. 

“I can see why John liked you,” she says, “He’s not much of a talker either.” Kate snorts. 

“John Winchester liked me because I was pretty and there, don’t make any bones of it any other way,” Kate says, so confident in her own beauty that it just comes out of her mouth that way. Mary can’t help but stare a little, and stare after her as she approaches the table with that self-same confidence, greeting Dean again with a grin that he returns just as easily. 

“Sammy, you gotta be nice to Kate. She’s our little brother’s mom, you know? Gotta be nice if you wanna meet him,” Dean was lecturing as they approached, sure of his own authority. Sam’s nose is scrunched. 

“Who says I wanna meet a baby anyway?” Sam says just to argue; he’s been excited to meet Adam ever since Dean did, unwilling to be left behind. Kate sets down a tray in front of him, and Sam’s attention focuses on her. 

“Don’t you?” Kate asks. The boys look up at her, Sam sheepishly and Dean with a big smile. Mary puts a tray down in front of him and ruffles his hair. She reaches over to clean off a speck of whatever Sam has already managed to get on his face too, grinning when he ducks his face away. 

“Well yeah,” her baby says, looking up at Kate with his half-adult confidence, “But does that mean I have to be nice? I’m nice anyways, but I have to?” 

He’s been like that since the day he was born. Stubborn to be told to do anything, but with the nature on him to do the right thing anyway; it’s half the reason she never tells him how he’s supposed to act anyway. The other half is a mix of childhood memories she doesn’t like to look at much, and Dean. Dean takes looking after his brother like it’s the job he was meant for, like he was never supposed to do anything else. It makes her ache, sometimes. 

“Well, I would appreciate it if you were nice, but I suppose you don’t have to,” Kate is saying when Mary zones back in, and she smiles. It’s the most genuine smile she’s had all week, relaxed and heavy like honey pulling her in, like Kate’s own smile pulling her on a leash. She settles into her lunch. She joins the conversation. Everything’s calm. 

#katemary #mary winchester #kate milligan #contentnatural #sapphicnatural #mine #tag list in a moment! #we out here

[thatgirl4815]

I think Vegas thrive being a mafia. But his goals has always been motivated by his father which bounds him to a essentially being a follower when he has the markings of a leader. I dont expect him to be all nice at all. Or good even. He just need to love wholehearted and then gut people because who doesnt deserve murdering every now and again. He is being dethroned from being a villain, that is true, but does that mean he can just stop being an evil evil man?? Who happens to love pete so hard he spares everyone pete likes??? Of course not. At least i hope they dont do that.

Also im manifesting Pete killing Kan.

Honestly, I think that being in the mafia is a large part of the reason why Vegas is the way he is—just like it’s part of the reason Kan is the way he is. Even though Vegas is from the minor family, he’s still wealthy and powerful. Most importantly, he’s afforded the opportunity to inflict pain on others without consequence. That’s why he’s made it a habit: it’s an outlet for his pain that is adapted to his situation. He’s always been able to get away with it. And yes, I 100% agree with you that Vegas can’t just stop being evil. Pete is an influential guy, clearly, but he can’t transform who Vegas is.

I’m not sure I’d say Vegas is being dethroned from being a villain. I think it’s all subjective. From an audience’s perspective, it might seem like it, but only because we’ve seen more of Vegas’s inner struggle these past few episodes. The thing is though, seeing this struggle doesn’t make him less of a villain. Whether the show intends to make Vegas stop fighting for the minor family is the question, but I think he’ll still pose a threat to the main family even if he turns against Kan. The way I predict it, Vegas will always be a villain of the main family, and where that causes the most problems is with Pete.

Pete is interesting because he’s the one making this entire thing messy. I mean think about it—this whole conflict between Vegas and Kinn would be a lot more basic without him. When it comes to Pete, my opinion on him has changed significantly throughout the show. He’s quickly become one of my favorite characters for a few reasons. I’ve written a lot about Vegas psychologically but not nearly as much about Pete because we just don’t have the same access to his thoughts. And oddly enough, I love that about him. I love that we don’t understand him. I love that he’s so endearing and empathetic and optimistic, yet he’s quickly fallen for the complete opposite of that. I love that he’s giving Vegas a new perspective on his life and his worth.

Would Pete kill Kan for Vegas? Probably. But I personally want Vegas to be the one to do it. It would be satisfying either way, but the impact would be different in each case. If Pete killed Kan, it would be much more about VP’s relationship and Pete’s dedication to helping Vegas fight back against his abuser. If Vegas killed Kan, it would be more about himself—obviously Pete’s influence would play a role, but it would have a lot more to do with Vegas individually and his own agency, in my opinion. I am curious to know what other opinions on this are: Who would you prefer to see kill Kan, Vegas or Pete?

Anyways, I hope you don’t mind me using this space to rant about some of my thoughts. Thanks for the ask!! 👏💕 I enjoyed reading your thoughts.

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #vegaspete #vegas x pete #kinnporsche ask #ask #kinnporsche Ep12 #kinnporsche meta

[colorisbyshe]

Random spicy question: is there a privilege wildly accepted on social media as a thing, but that you don't think actually exists? Personally, I'm not convinced "pretty privilege" exists. What even are the parameters here? A good bone structure? bc I keep seeing ppl with "pretty privilege" that always say "oh well I'm at my house so of course I'm busted" and like, all privilege is conditional, but if this privilege needs them to wear make-up, have a skin care routine, or plastic surgery then idk.

Hmm, can’t really think of any.

Pretty privilege is very clearly a sort of misuse of the word privilege and fits more of the casual usage of the word as opposed to referring to a real axis of oppressor/oppressed but does also tap into a real intersection of a lot of forms of exactly that—misogyny, racism, ableism, classism, and fatphobia.

How we perceive appearance and what we value in appearance is obviously quite informed by our systems of oppression and someone’s ability to achieve those norms is obviously a privilege.

The fact that it’s a higher bar to clear just furthers that—like beyond those who are “naturally pretty,” being able to afford procedures and cosmetics and clothing is obviously tied into classism. Having “good genes” cannot be divorced form things like fatphobia and ableism.

And tbh privilege being a somewhat high maintenance thing is kinda… always how oppression/privilege works. Like, people have to lobby for laws and forms of governance to maintain things like white privilege. There are people who dedicate their entire lives to ~the grind~ so they may lord their wealth over other people (obviously not all people working hard for money are doing that but some are).

So, like, would I say “attractiveness” is an axis of oppression, no, but only because that it is really an expression of multiple axes of oppression and is extremely time sensitive because of bodies and features are now trends—which is sort of the point. Only the wealthy have the sort of transformative power to stay on trend.

It’s kinda like fashion. Obviously there isn’t “well dressed privilege” as an axis but it’s pretty easy to understand that “well dressed” people are often treated better and that what is considered fashionable is often disctated by racism, classism, and misogyny (and tied into the gendered policing of fashion is homophobia and transphobia). And that lots of fashion isn’t made accessibly to fat people or disabled people or is considered to no longer be flattering on fat or disabled people.

Conversations about pretty privilege tend to skirt this a lot but like… that’s because most people online don’t know what they’re talking about or jsut want to use the conversation to either self victimize or self flagellate OR boast or do a combo of all three.

[deaddovedecadence]

Excerpt from the first chapter of my latest bnha fic ‘Come as you are’

(please be aware that this fic matches the rest of the content on this account: dark with (platonic and romantic) possessive behavior. know your boundaries and read the tags)

Fumikage stumbles, Todoroki kun’s weight making it difficult for both of them to stay balanced even though Todoroki is concerningly, not even as heavy as them, someone who's struggled through life the best that they can and gone without food too many a night. “It hurts,” their companion says softly, perhaps in reference to the stab wound carved into his side, or the puncture wound in his neck. “I know Todoroki kun,” they say softly, “but I can’t do anything until we find a place to sleep for the night.” 

And that’s the big problem isn’t it? They don’t have a lot of money on them and what little they do have was originally meant for train fares and vending machine food. “Got my shitty dad’s credit card. We could witlaw, shit, I mean to say withdraw as much as we can before trashing the card.” 

All things considered it is not the worst idea, nor the most illegal thing they would have to do to survive but it’s one of the few things that could get both of them caught. They take another look at Todoroki kun and how heavily he’s leaning on them to stay upright and make their decision. 

“Where’s the nearest atm? We can stop there and then head in the other direction.” The look on Todoroki’s face is grateful  and it makes their very soul ache to wonder what could make another human being that grateful to be used.

 Slowly, because of how tightly they’re clung together, the two of them make it to a graffitied atm and with shaky hands, Todoroki kun pulls out his credit card. Fumikage is able to withdraw almost two million yen, before the account finally displays a maxed out symbol. 

They touched the money almost reverently, staring at the amount that was now in their hands. Besides them, Todoroki smiles, a small real little thing. With this both of them could afford to get the hell out of Tokyo and away to somewhere small, maybe somewhere with less people, and more birds. Fumikage has always wanted a raven. They shook themselves out of the awe, quickly stuffing it into their bag, body and Todoroki's many pocketed pants as quickly as they could before the two fled as quickly as possible with the added inhibition of Todoroki kun’s injuries. They leave the card in the atm, at Todoroki’s gasped request, a final petty act to spite his father, he tells them severely.

They wander the streets of Tokyo until they come to a small inn. They enter, half supporting, half dragging Todoroki along with them. There’s only one other person in the establishment, an old woman behind the counter, cigarette half in her mouth, staring at the tv. It’s playing some old soap opera and she looks so enthralled they know she’s lying, know she’s watching them out of the corner of her eye. No one cares about soap operas that much. They step the desk and with a grunt, she turns away from the tv, obviously staring down Todoroki, taking in his bite marks and stab wounds, how his head has started to loll, coming to rest on Fumikage’s shoulder. 

“Whatja want kid?” Her eyes are world weary and nervous, eyes darting to the phone that rests on the counter. They place a hand on the phone before doing something very unlike them. They look her right in the eyes, exposing the almost black color of their own. “We’d like a room for a couple of nights please.” Her eyes stop darting everywhere, her head cocking to the side in surprise before nodding, almost to herself. 

“Fifty eight thousand a night.” That’s… certainly an absurd amount but they can pay it, “Agreed but no questions or tipping off the authorities .” She nods but her gaze shifts to Todoroki. They deplore being rude but they need to keep both of them safe so they slam the hand that was cornering the landline down on the desk. She jumps and Fumikage takes some small satisfaction in it. “No tipping the authorities off about either of us and I’ll pay extra.” Her eyes narrow, “How much extra?”

 They place around a hundred thousand yen down, push it towards her. “Three nights, I tell no one. Deal?” They nod, turning away from the desk to the daunting task of the staircase. Todoroki kun groans softly murmuring under his breath, “It hurts. I want it to be done please father.” Fumikage sighs and the two begin their assent up the stairs.  

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