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#also do not talk to me about perspective i hate her i did 3 years of design college before i decided i would rather die in a glue trap
holllandtrash · 8 months
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i forgot that you existed | lando norris (6 to 1)
part of the lover x 6 to 1 series | lando norris x leclerc! reader
it isn't love, it isn't hate it's just indifference 
takes place 3 months after part 12 of 6 to 1 (immediately after london boy in the lover series tbh) vote for the next part here
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I forgot that you existed takes place three months after lando and y/n started dating. I can’t make it fit into the real f1 2023 timeline so here we are, in our own delusional 2023 world. 
The door to Charles’ flat swung open and your brother greeted you with a hug, despite having seen him not too long ago. 
It was rare that he was home during his birthday, especially as the F1 calendar kept extending, but it worked out in his favour this year and on that Monday, October 16th, he had his friends and loved ones over for a quick celebration before everyone needed to hop on a plane for Texas tomorrow.
“Twenty-six,” you laughed, squeezing his arm, “You’re getting old.”
Charles opened his mouth to rebuttal but before he could say anything, a recognizable French accent could be heard behind him. 
“Don’t say that. How do you think I feel?” 
You glanced over his shoulder and saw Pierre pouring himself a drink, a humorous smirk on his face before he raised his eyebrows, his version of greeting you. You kept it together and didn’t roll your eyes at him, instead looking back at Charles.
“Really?” You asked, voice dropping to a whisper.
Charles shrugged, “He’s my best mate.”
“Who fucked your younger sister and then talked about it around the paddock like it was an accomplishment,” you harshly pointed out, knowing Charles hated to be reminded of that and also hated confrontation. “Pick better friends, maybe.”
You walked inside the flat, dropping the bottle of wine on the counter and purposely avoided Pierre’s watchful gaze. You wished Lando was with you, and you knew he’d be here soon, but you just felt better when you had his hand to hold and him to turn to to make comments under your breath. 
Arthur called your name from behind you and you turned and said hi to him and his girlfriend, Carla, offering to pour them a glass of wine. Arthur declined, but Carla raised her empty glass and gave you a bright smile, politely asking for another.
You found a few glasses and opened up the bottle, all while ignoring Pierre who was still standing in the kitchen. You smiled as Joris was next to walk through the door, greeting him as well, but before you could join everyone in the living room, Pierre called you out for giving him the cold shoulder.
“What, no hello for me?” Pierre asked. His faint scoff and the narrowing of his eyes told you that he wasn’t kidding. He looked at you like he was truly offended that you had shown everyone else here attention and not him.
And you had kept your mouth shut around Pierre for a while now, months really. There was tension, but you were civil because weirdly enough, Charles was still his best friend. Charles as well, kept his mouth shut. All of you just silently agreed that if no one said anything, you could all move on.
But you could only bite your tongue for so long.
“I’m sorry,” the sarcasm dripped off your tongue. “I forgot that you existed, actually.” You eyed him over, practically challenging him to respond. 
And obviously, he did. 
“That’s unlikely,” he said, voice dripping with the same bitterness you had. 
You missed the way Charles and Joris exchanged a worried glance, both of them knowing that you hadn’t actually talked to Pierre in months unless it was to exchange a casual ‘hi’ ‘bye’. Both of them also knew that you quickly grew to despise the French driver.
Even though you were never dating Pierre, the one night you spent together made your skin crawl when you really started to think about it. Him going around and telling other drivers about it after the fact was one thing that you still had issues with, because he didn’t seem to understand it from your perspective, but the real issue at hand was that you were 20 when you slept with Pierre while he was 27.
20. Barely old enough to make the right decisions, barely an adult, barely someone who should be trusted with a few bottles of wine and a man over seven years older than her. 
Pierre knew you were inexperienced, young, easily manipulated at that age. He showed you the right amount of attention at that dinner and you were swept off your feet, not even thinking about how wrong this was on so many levels.
The age gap, the seven years between you, wasn’t what bothered you. You had friends who were happily in love with partners with an age gap like that and then some. 
It was the fact that Pierre knew he could take advantage of the situation, make you think that he was what you wanted because he was older, smarter, he had known you for years, made you think he knew you. 
You trusted him. At least, that night you did. You didn’t think anything bad would come from it, especially since you decided to keep it to yourselves. It wasn’t a mistake, you both agreed, it just shouldn’t happen again. 
God how wrong you were, about it not being a mistake. 
Of course it was. You slept with Pierre Gasly. The same Pierre Gasly who was known around the paddock for hooking up with new girls every race weekend, for leading women on and then leaving them high and dry only to brag about to whoever would listen.
Being sexually active wasn’t the problem, the way he acted was. 
Like he was too good everyone here, like he could get anything he wanted if he just batted his eyelashes. Pierre was cocky, egotistic, arrogant. At one point you thought it was just self-confidence, an admirable trait. You knew now it wasn’t. 
The door to the flat opened again and even though you were in a vengeful staredown with Pierre, you loosened up immensely as you heard Lando’s cheerful ‘Happy birthday Chuck’ greeting when he walked inside. He patted Charles on the back and started to make his way towards you, only to see that he was about to walk into the middle of something.
“I don’t want to get involved,” Lando whispered to Charles.
“I’m not getting involved,” Charles shook his head. “It’s my birthday.”
“She’s your sister.”
“And she’d break both of my legs if I tried to interrupt. You’re probably safer than me.”
Probably, being the key word.
Lando, reluctantly, approached your side, hand finding your waist. He glanced at Pierre, but Lando as well didn’t have much of a friendship with the French driver anymore either. Not condoning his actions nor the way he treated people. Pierre had a horrible attitude, but he just never saw it until you pointed it out.
“Let’s go on the balcony for a bit, yeah?” Lando suggested. 
Lando draped his arm around your shoulder and you nodded, starting to turn with you under his arm. 
He, for one, was happy you were taking the high road. He had seen you absolutely livid before and he thanked his lucky stars that it was never directed at him. 
But Lando was ahead of himself. He trusted you to keep walking and move on, but he couldn’t say the same for Pierre. 
“So that’s how it’s going to be now, huh?” Pierre asked, calling after you before you could slide open the patio doors. 
You had just turned your back on him. Lando felt you tense beside him. Your shoulders tightened, body stiffening. He whispered for you to just keep walking, to just go outside, but as much as you wanted to take the high road, you were also not one to stand down. 
You pivoted on your heels, ignoring the way Lando tried to grab your hand, one last attempt to stop you. 
“This is exactly how it’s going to be,” you retorted, your tone had him and Lando flinching. Thank god there was a kitchen island between you, but the way you slapped your hands on the marble surface had Pierre stepping backwards anyway. 
He raised his eyebrows, “Excuse me?”
“Did I stutter?” You eyed him up. “You’re a prick, Pierre. A conceited, self-centred, misogynistic fucking asshole who only goes after girls younger then you because any girl your age would be smart enough to know not give you more than two minutes of their time. I didn’t know better and I stupidly trusted you and then you ran your mouth around the paddock because apparently you think that since you’re not a good enough driver to score points you have to brag about your sexual achievements to feel like a fucking man.”
Silence. 
Absolute silence. 
From Charles, from Lando. From everyone in the living room who had assumed tonight was just going to be about having a casual hang to celebrate Charles’ birthday. Now the conversations had stopped, the stares were on you.
More importantly, though, Pierre’s lips were tightly pressed together, unable to come up with a response to match that, to attack you the way you had him.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” you grabbed one of the glasses of wine you had poured. “I would very much like to just celebrate Charles and go back to forgetting you fucking exist.”
You took a sip as you turned and stepped past Lando, heading towards the balcony like you had originally intended to. 
Sliding the door open, you welcomed the autumn air and left the glass open a crack, knowing Lando would follow you out, he’d follow you anywhere. As you stared down at the scenic view of Monte Carlo, arms resting over the concrete barrier, you slowly started to hear the conversations pick back up again.
After another sip of the wine, it took everything in you not to look over your shoulder when you overheard the mixed voices of Charles, Lando and Pierre. If you had to assume, Lando was apologising for your outburst on Charles’ birthday while also pointing out that everything you said was in fact correct. When Pierre raised his voice, you didn’t catch what he said but you could hear the offended tone. 
And then Charles was clear as day, “Mate you never actually apologised to her and meant it.”
Shortly after, the door slid open again and you turned to see Lando joining you. He closed the door this time, muting the voices inside completely. He didn’t stand next to you, instead behind you and wrapped his arm around your stomach, pulling you into his chest.
Lando kissed the side of your head, only to chuckle immediately after.
“You were a little harsh back there.”
“I meant every word.”
“I know you did.”
Lando swayed side to side, taking in a deep breath of contentment. It was peaceful out here, quiet. You knew when you went back inside you’d be forced to deal with Pierre and the words that were spoken and you wanted to avoid that for as long as possible.
“Do you hate him?” Lando asked you and part of you wanted to say yes but that just wasn’t true. 
Hating someone was time consuming, it was tiring, it was draining and you just didn’t have the energy to put those type of angered feelings towards Pierre. He infuriated you beyond words when you saw him, especially knowing he didn’t care about what he had done, but you didn’t hate him.
“I’m indifferent,” you answered. “Really, it’s been lovely not talking to him at all these last few months. It’s like a breath of fresh air, not having in my life. He’s-” your words were cut with a sigh and Lando hugged you tighter. “He’s not a good person, and I think part of me has always known that. I’ve seen how he’s treated girls before, the little respect he’s given them but I just always brushed it off because he was Charles’ friend. I thought I needed him in my life too but I don’t.”
You turned in Lando’s grasp, putting the glass of wine on the edge of the balcony so you could rest your arms around his shoulders, your fingers connecting behind his neck.
You shrugged, “I’m just going to forget about him.”
“What if you see him in the paddock?” 
“I’ll keep walking.”
“At family events like this?” Lando knew that he was still going to be around your personal life.
“I don’t need to talk to him,” the answer was simple. 
Lando nodded, it was the sort of response he expected. “Do you think you’ll ever get back to a place where you are friends?”
Your lips curled upwards, “Maybe. If he ever grows up.”
At the same second, the door behind Lando slid open and you pulled apart out of respect for whoever was about to join you outside. 
You thought maybe it would be Charles, or Arthur even.
You certainly didn’t expect Pierre.
He glanced at Lando, and then at you and then back at Lando, “Mind if I steal Y/N for a second?”
“Why don’t you ask me if you could have a few seconds of my time instead of looking at Lando for some sort of permission?” You shot back. Lando hid his snicker fairly well and reached down, rubbing your arm quickly for encouragement, or maybe it was a gentle reminder to at least try and be nice.
“I’ll refill this for you,” Lando’s excuse was a poor one as he reached for your wine glass that was still more full than not. He squeezed your hand before stepping past Pierre, but knowing better than to completely shut the sliding glass door all the way.
At least if you two started yelling at each other, someone needed to be able to hear it and put a stop to it. 
“I’m not apologising for anything I said,” you told him before he could get the wrong idea.
“Not even for the way you spoke to me?” Pierre asked. This was not off to a good start. 
“I don’t understand how everyone in this flat is younger than you, but outrageously more mature,” you scoffed. “I’m not apologising for anything. Especially not since you haven’t either.”
“I did,” he retorted. “In the paddock!”
“You didn’t mean it, you just hated that I snapped at you in front of other people and you felt obligated to react.”
Pierre’s jaw clenched, a telling sign that you were definitely right and he just didn’t want to admit it. 
“I’m-”
“Save it,” you shook your head. “I don’t want anything from you now, let alone a few empty words. What you should do, Pierre, is a little self reflecting, maybe some growth. And come back to me when you know how to treat people with respect.”
You didn’t want him to get another word in, instead choosing to step by him to head back inside. You spotted Lando leaning against the kitchen island, chatting with Arthur and laughing about something. He caught your eye through the window, sending a wink in your direction as you slid the glass open fully. 
He treated you with respect. He showered you with love and adoration. Lando cared so deeply for you, going out of his way time and time again to prove that to you. 
You looked at Arthur, at Charles, you knew Enzo would be arriving soon and you also knew your brothers would do anything for you. Despite the bickering and sometimes screaming matches, they had your back. 
You thought about your friends, the ones in Monaco, in Spain, from all around the world. They loved you, they would drop anything for you. They wouldn’t go around and talk about you behind your back, they wouldn’t use you.
And you loved all of them. Your family, your friends, Lando. You held your loved ones close and cherished any second you had with them. Your relationships were a huge part of your life, they always had been.
You no longer had one with Pierre. There was no connection anymore.
You turned back around, only to see that Pierre had now replaced your original spot and was leaning against the balcony, looking at the streets below. His back was turned to you, probably having assumed you walked back inside by now and you should have.
Instead you were thinking about how gone were the days where you would be cheering for his points, watching his races like his other friends would. You wouldn’t dare set foot on a trip with him ever again, the friendship was gone. 
And you would have stuck around, had he just apologised and meant it. If he just owned up to being a complete prick, admitted that he was in the wrong for once. If he had done that, you would have still been his friend, you would be there for him instead of walking away and leaving him standing there alone right now. 
Did he know that?  
Did he know you wished it hadn't come to this?
Did he know now the mistake he had made, and was he hopefully going to learn from his actions?
You felt a hand wrap around your wrist as you were dragged back inside by Lando. He kissed your cheek, once and then once more before handing you the wine glass that wasn’t any more full now than when he had snagged it to refill it. 
“All good?” Lando asked, unsure what even qualified as good at this point.
You nodded and Lando didn't quite believe you but he didn’t push. You said what you needed to. Hopefully, your point got across to Pierre, but he wasn’t your problem anymore. As far as you were concerned, Pierre Gasly no longer existed in your life.
vote for the next part here
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thatsmybook · 1 month
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A few times, I've heard Lisa and Rojda talk about how Young Royals is about the class system and a queer Prince, but also, it's relatable because not only do the cast look like teenagers, they act like teenagers in today's world. So it's also a show about teenagers. With that in mind, I'd like to talk about Simon Eriksson, working class, immigrant, and mixed race student at Hillerska, falling in love with the Prince.
Simon, in S1, deliberately kept any problems about Sara and his life at Hillerska hidden from his mum because he did not want to burden her. He lied to reassure her when she'd get worried about Sara and equally made decisions to help Sara's wellbeing at school. It seemed that he was taking care of his mum and sister when his dad left and after the abusive relationship that seemed to have really affected the whole family. This is why he doesn't share anything bad that he's going through with his mum. He's trying to protect her. He always has.
As to the comments he is getting. I think he is reading them because often they concern his family and are from the people in their town. That, along with the phone calls at night and hate-mail mentioned by Linda at the court hearing in S3 ep1, this means that he's on hyper-vigilance about threats to him and his family. So, my theory is that he is monitoring his comments and engaging to try to defuse things. But just like in all 3 seasons, his actions often lead to more problems.
This is a 16 year old kid, the youngest in his family, doing things an adult should be doing. This is very relatable for many working-class single parent families. Something to add about first-generation kids of immigrant families, having an extra layer of working to help the family navigate the country and society they're in.
Also, as to the comments, there have been many real life incidents, unfortunately , of teenagers getting hate comments online from their peers and bullied to the point of taking their own lives. Simply telling them not to read the comments may not have worked for them. (Yet so many reactors to this season think it's that simple).
Simon is getting a volumous amount of hate comments, which started right after the sex video was released in S1. At that point, the comments were in the print media.
He needs actual support, less obliviousness from the adults in his life about what is happening to him (that includes the Royal Court), and understanding about the actual effect of comments on his mental health from everyone around him. He is a victim of actual hate, and when I hear about any child going through that kind of regular abuse, my heart goes out to them.
Seeing how supportive Simon's dad could be in this 3rd season in his conversations with Sara, we can see how much Simon actually misses his dad. Because had he had a relationship with him, without the baggage of Sara's need for distance, he would have probably noticed that Simme needed help and been quite good at it, when he could manage it.
However, we as the audience seem to be blinded by Wille's more important problems, partly because the show is largely from his POV, but also because his pressures seem bigger. As a result, I've seen fans come down on Simon for not putting his life's woes in perspective to support Wille more. We start to see big cracks in their relationship and start to feel that they just won't work out.
But, they're also just kids in their first relationship. Miscommunication is completely normal at that age. They've only just been spending actual time with each other this season and getting to know each other. Yet they are dealing with adult problems, and so many of us fans are shouting at the screen - talk to each other! I feel like, if I were one of them, there is so much weight on me that I'd be too scared to open the floodgates and actually tell my boyfriend what's happening because I don't want to scare him. And no wonder they spend most of their time making out. It's the easiest part of their relationship and what gives them actual joy at the moment.
So I give grace to these characters and kudos to the creators of the show, for showing ACTUAL teenagers dealing with real life problems, amplified for drama because of the dichotomy of being a Prince and a commoner. But, I don't judge ANY of the characters when I apply the same analysis I've given here to Simon to all the other four characters. What this show requires of us adults is empathy for their plight and maybe a closer look at the teenagers in our lives. What it does for the teen audience is show them that they're not alone when they mess up or are dealing with life pressures. We as a society won't judge them. We will work to understand them and share their burdens.
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doraambrose · 3 months
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I see this alot in fanon and I think jason Todd's parents are completely misunderstood.
Disclaimer: I am not a victim of parents with drug abuse nor have a I ever done drugs. I sympathize and emphasize with people who struggle with drug abuse as there are many reasons to get into it and it's very hard on your body to get clean, I will link help organizations below. This does mean that I can be a little ignorant to the struggles so if I say anything offensive or wrong, please call me out and educate me so I don't make the same mistake
Jason's family has been retconned so many times, it's hard to keep it straight. But this is my headcannon based on what I've seen:
1. I feel like a lot of people write Willis Todd to be this awful abusive scumbag who hated his kid and his wife. If you are talking about young justice or arkhamverse, this canonically true, but I think that's far from the truth in the main universe, prime or whatever it's called. In batman 411, jason is clearly distraught by Willis' death and does try to avenge him by lashing out at Two face. We also can't forget about the incident with the penguin that led to the worst Bruce and jason characterization before gotham war. And that's because of one rhato issue where jason finally reads willis' letters (a truly heartbreaking issue: rhato rebirth 23)
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I believe that Willis wasn't a bad dad. Not a good dad, but not an awful abusive one. I 100% believe he has never abused his family in this universe. And you know what, he wasn't a great person. He was a drug dealer and then a henchmen. But he CARED. He cared about his family. He tried so hard to provide for Catherine and Jason for their medical bills, food, shelter. He just had a poor upbringing and some real shit luck, trying to survive in poverty in Gotham city.
2. Catherine has been written in fanon to be a perfect caring mother who was nothing but a victim. I believe that she wasn't as good of a mother and a person as people make her out to be. And we haven't seen everything, but I believe this because she seems selfish. She seems to put herself and her drug addiction before her family, doesn't seem to even try to get clean or take care of jason or provide. Look at these panels:
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She neglected Jason. He had to go out and put his life on the line day after day when it should've been the other way around. Jason was a kid. And don't get me wrong, she probably loved jason and had good intentions, no, she definitely loved him, or else jason wouldn't canonically think as highly of her and take care of her the way he did, but she wasn't perfect and I don't think she was as good of a mother as she's made out to be.
3. Canonically, jason seems to really care for Catherine, but not Willis. I have a theory about that. For why he thinks so highly of catherine: I've never had a parent who suffered from drug abuse, but I do have a parent who suffered from a lot of mental health issues like depression, diagnosed, and I feel like bpd, though it was never diagnosed. When things were bad, they were BAD. I witnessed a lot. But when things were good, things were REALLY GOOD. I feel like when Catherine would come off the drug haze, things were like that. She probably took care of him during those times and was loving and all that. Catherine is the one parent figure Jason has to hold onto (because of all the shit with Bruce, Sheila, etc.). He forcibly removes the bad shit she's done and hangs onto the good things she's done because she really did care about him and in life, it seems harder to hate your mom than your dad (from what i have heard when i did research on this from friends). I've done that for years, and idk if I'm explaining it right, but I think that's the best way I can. For why he doesn't love willis: I think up until he read the notes, he didn't have the full picture. From his perspective, willis leaves to do crime and then eventually gets caught and left forever. I think he blamed willis for making jason become "the man of the house" and have all this extra responsibility. Willis also strikes me as the type of parent who has trouble expressing feelings, so jason probably rarely, if ever, heard "I love you" from his dad. Willis also strikes me as the person who would believe that he needs to make his son stronger in order to survive, and there are a lot of parents like that, especially parents from a low income household or a history of poverty.
In conclusion, both parents were FAR from perfect parents, but they're not as evil or as innocent as people write them in fanon. They're just...people. fanon likes to write comic people as black or white, innocent or abusive, but in reality, It's a gray area. Willis had his flaws, I hc him as one of those old fashioned kind of dads who wants his son to be tough and strong and isn't good with sharing his feelings, but does truly care about his family and NEVER was abusive. Catherine was a mother who definitely cared about her family, but wasn't an innocent victim and had her own flaws.
Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted talk
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FAQs!
I go by Ice, she/her pronouns 💕. In case you had any of these questions, here you go:
1. "Why'd you make this page?"
I want to make the creation space- fandom to professional- more inclusive for people that look like me.
It is very disheartening when you really like something, and you see that oh! It's going to include a Black character! And then you get that character and... They're subpar. Especially in comparison to the usually white characters that have so much thought put into them. You accept them because you REALLY want that rep, but... We deserve to wholeheartedly accept our characters too, no ehhs about it.
I wanted to challenge myself, using my amateur art skills and my teaching skills, to convey to creators how that makes us feel, and little things they can do to more intentionally create their Black characters. There's more to us than adding to a diversity quota.
2. "So you aren't even a professional?"
I got 27.5 years of being a Black person on my resume 🤣 jokes aside, I am a self teaching artist. It's only been about a year for me. My more specific goal here is to use my skills to convey a perspective change towards Blackness, not necessarily a "how to do". If you want to learn the specific how-to's of drawing Black characters, there are Black artists all over Tumblr and the web that can show you. I actively encourage you to go check them out and support them, it's a great way to learn as well as to support our community!
3. "But if you're not a professional, why should I trust you?"
Well, again, because I don't have to be a professional to recognize when supposedly Black characters... Don't look like me 😅. Or, in writing, don't have any thought about me behind them. I could show my 87 year old Grandma some art and she'd recognize the issues.
But also, I personally believe that if you start from the foundations thinking about intentionally creating your Black characters, it'll make it much easier for you moving into the future. I am holding my hand out as a Black peer to HELP YOU! There are professional video games and art pieces and projects out there with poorly designed Black characters. The concept clearly needs to be introduced to the people somewhere before a million dollar project is release 🤣 But I can't talk to the people at the AAA studios. I can talk to you!
4. "I don't think race matters/should matter."
Alas, it does, everything we do is affected by our beliefs unconsciously or not- but I'm not going to waste my time and argue with you. This blog isn't for you 🤷🏾‍♀️ this blog is for those who want to take that first step to be better, both as creators and as people. 👍🏾
5. "Do you support AI?"
Not in the arts. Learn how to draw and/or write, it's very fulfilling.
6. "Do you answer asks?"
I do! However, this is a lesson based page, more than an ask based page. If I think your ask can be answered by one of my lessons, I'll refer you to that lesson. If it's an ask that's relevant to something coming up, I will answer it, but you will find more detail in the lesson coming up! I'm only one person doing this, and I can't answer every singular scenario. Also, keep in mind, if you ask me my opinion on something, I will be fair, but honest!
7. Will you be turning on anons?
Okay: right now, we've earned Anon Office Hours Wednesday thru Friday 12:30-6:30pm EST!
Most of this is due to the nature of what I'm discussing. Historically, these topics (and how race is relevant) upset some people, and it can get unsafe. Personally, I have no intention of allowing racists, or those who will take my advice in bad faith, to hide their faces. If you want to hate me, speak with your chest 😤👍🏾
The other part is that it is not a bad thing to ask questions! I did create this blog to be a learning opportunity. So long as you are kind to me and send me asks in good faith, I will be kind to you and reply in good faith. I'm also pretty sure I have the option to answer privately, so if you don't want your question posted publicly, You can say that.
If I get more questions, I'll update this!
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coraniaid · 5 months
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You said a few days ago that you would have liked if season 7 went more in the direction of Help rather than the direction of the First. I know you're not a big fan of the First but I was wondering what you meant by that specifically, and what kind of direction you might have preferred season 7 go in overall?
I don’t have any good reason to think it actually happened, but I always get the impression from watching or thinking about Season 7 that the early plans for the season changed pretty significantly at some point after most of the first few episodes had already been written.  (Perhaps when they decided that it would also be the last season?  I’ve heard conflicting accounts of when that decision was made.)
If you go back and look at the then-contemporary discussions of the show, the whole season was initially marketed as something of a ‘year zero’: a return to the show’s high school era roots, to something much more upbeat than Season 6, to the original Scooby Gang as the focus of the show.  
And just to be clear, I rather like Season 6 – it doesn’t always work, and I think some of the subplots are pretty dreadfully executed, and sometimes I respect the episodes more than I enjoy watching them – but it inarguably has a clear vision for the story it’s trying to tell, one that builds on and recontextualizes what came before it.  But for the payoff for that season to land, we needed Season 7 to be different.  To be less cynical, more hopeful.  It needed to show us that Buffy was right to promise Dawn in Grave that things were going to get better.  
And that sort of reset is what we got … for about half a dozen episodes.  Then, of course, it goes rather horribly wrong.
I like Help in particular because it is, for me, the closest the show ever gets to delivering on that promise of a return to the high school era.  It’s not quite a regression or a soft reboot: Buffy is still an adult with a job, even if she’s suddenly unexpectedly back in high school.  Her more mundane responsibilities haven’t suddenly gone away. But now the job she has isn’t something she hates but has to do – it’s something that she actually has a calling for, almost literally, something that harks back to her getting the Class Protector award back in Season 3.   In Help Buffy’s inhabiting the same world she did in the first three seasons, she’s still trying to save people, but this time with a new, more experienced perspective. 
The episode feels very aware of the show’s history, too.  There are nods to Lie To Me (a teenager Buffy knows is going to die because of illness, not anything supernatural Buffy can stop) and Reptile Boy (the cult trying to sacrifice a teenage girl to a demon for material riches) and Beauty and the Beasts (with Buffy herself taking on the role of Mr Platt, worried that Mike is going to turn out to be another Pete), and of course the whole episode is a callback to Prophecy Girl.  Because Cassie – probably the show’s last great one-episode character (and yes, the actor comes back later but the person doesn’t) – isn’t just somebody Buffy is trying to save, she is Buffy: a Season 1 Buffy who struggles to make friends and has a supernatural gift she doesn’t like to talk about and knows she’s going to die heartbreakingly young.  I don’t think it’s merely chance that Cassie’s big speech to Buffy about her destiny (“You think I want this?  You think I don’t care?”) echoes Buffy’s own words to her mother in Becoming either (“You think I choose to be like this?”).
Plus, while the episode ties into the wider story arc – with Spike in the basement and hints that Principal Wood might be up to something and our first appearance of future Potential Amanda – the whole thing still tells a coherent, self-contained story.  It stands on its own right; it makes sense on its own terms.  it’s not just another installment in the long running saga of General Buffy and the friends she never talks to who later kick her out of the house she owns.
And I think there was a lot more ground there to explore, in the same vein as Help.  At least a full season’s worth.  There was so much more the show could have tried to do in terms of going back and revisiting some of the classic moments of the first three seasons from a more mature and more grown-up perspective, instead of summarily kicking Buffy out of her new job and then blowing the school up (again).  If this season is about the future – about new Slayers being called, one way or another – then what does that mean?  How else are Buffy and Willow and Xander engaged in the challenge of trying to pass on what they’ve learned about life on the Hellmouth to a new generation?  
At its best, Buffy has always been in conversation with its past, building on ideas that were touched on in one season and asking the audience to think about them again from a different angle.  And the beginning of Season 7 sets up the perfect stage to try to do more of that.
I’d have loved to have seen a whole season of Buffy trying to keep her students alive while also preparing them to go out and live in the world.  Of Dawn making new friends and finding value in being herself, not just the Slayer’s sister or the mystical Key.  Of Buffy and Willow and Xander really getting to know each other again, and having a chance to talk about everything that happened to them last year.  A whole season of, in a way, seeing the show from the very beginning, but this time from the perspective of people like Giles or Jenny or Joyce.
But instead we got a lot of boring wank about an impossibly old super-god who can’t actually touch anything (but one who Buffy would definitely let Dawn die to defeat because this godlike being is so much more impressive and scary than Glory, trust us guys, please, we swear) and her army of interchangeable and personality-free super vampires (and of course Caleb, who’s somehow even more mind-numbingly boring than they are).  Instead we get a second half of the season in which Andrew Wells has more screen time than Willow or Xander or Anya or Giles or Dawn.  Instead we get to wonder whether Giles is the First and try to pretend to care that Spike has been hypnotized.  Instead we get Lies My Parents Told Me.
Oh well.  At least Faith shows up near the end.
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seemycee · 4 months
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🦢 𝙈𝙀𝙍𝘾𝙐𝙍𝙔 𝙎𝙌𝙐𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙉: 𝘿𝙀𝘽𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙁 🦢
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• so here we are again having another debrief this time about the aspect “mercury squared saturn”. i have a lot to say about her, so i suggest you get comfortable cause i will be rambling. as always i’m writing from my own perspective of having this as my tightest aspect. of course you may not 100% align with what i’m saying cause charts differ, but i’m always writing from a place of being informative and just good ole fun. picture me and this post as a fish, tumblr as my fishbowl and you guys are observing me and my behavior. for context, my 6h aquarius mercury is squaring my 9h taurus saturn.
• out of all my aspects i have in my chart i think this is the hardest, and i have so many so you know i’m serious. people who have this aspect are one the highest strongest soldiers, especially the ones who haven’t overcame it and still manage to exist. 
• this aspect manifested in my life in such a strange way and out of nowhere. when i was a child, i had a very high-pitched voice. not the normal young squeaky little kid voice. it gave very much did you suck the helium out of balloons every morning??? this probably has more to do with my aquarius mercury conjunct uranus, but i’m painting a picture for you guys. mostly a lot of people liked my voice minus my father, and a few kids in my school. who assumed i was putting on a voice and should’ve grown out of said voice at 10???
• so because the constant harassment of my voice, i started speaking in a more soft-spoken tone, as not to draw attention to my voice. then on top of that, i wouldn’t talk much so when i started attending middle school people assumed i was shy when in fact, i was the furthest thing from shy. but the thought of publicly speaking, after being judged, so harshly at a young age, gave me really bad anxiety. that i just recently overcame at 21 years old.
• having this aspect 🫱🏾‍🫲🏼 being highly critical of yourself. this hit me like a ton of bricks because mercury is my chart ruler plus i’m a virgo rising so you know, every little thing about myself, i hated. especially during my hormonal teenage years. i used to constantly have this nervous tick where i would pull my shirt back into place after it started bunching up. another one i had where i’m constantly brushing my eyebrow back into place. i always thought people were looking at me. so in my head, i thought trying to be perfect. all the time would spare me being judged.
• the constant, putting myself down was another big one with this aspect. i ruined so many opportunities for myself when i was younger. i let the thoughts of being inadequate get too loud and scare me. i could be 100% qualified to do something, and i would somehow still think i’m completely unqualified to do it. even with people gassing me up. which i hate now as an adult cause, i don’t even think twice about doing something now. 
• like most things touched by saturn. things got better overtime. being insecure about every little thing forced me to work harder and perfect my crafts. funny thing is it took me working in the real world and dealing with people 24/7. for me to be able to shed my anxious skin of my teen self. cause.
1. started to realize nobody cared and we all have our own issues we’re dealing with
2. started noticing people don’t perceive me the way i perceive myself
3. i was caught up in a outdated way of viewing myself that i didn’t notice the change and development of myself
• on a lighter note another way this aspect manifested for me is me being a history nut. i love all types of history, especially music history. i’m like a human shazam. think of the most obscure song playing in a store and i bet you, i can name the artist performing the song and give you details about their career. i also consume an unhealthy amount of history content from youtube. mainly old true crime and beauty practices from different time periods.
• also another thing i noticed with this aspect is not being able to share your ideas. i remember wanting to contribute to certain things then going never mind because i thought my ideas were dumb. then having people pull my teeth to get me to share and be blown away with said ideas. ex: all my friends up here in ny make drill music or r&b music. then you have me over here going against the grain composing new wave/post disco music which is just disco music without the beat overpowering the vocals. i’ve been doing this in private for weeks and i didn’t wanna share it with my friends or mother cause i didn’t think it was urban enough and that it was a silly idea that wasn’t gonna go anywhere and i just fall back into writing regular r&b music. i ended up telling them cause i like new wave a lot more than r&b music and i’m passionate about it. they actually liked the direction i’m going in, so it wasn’t silly idea after all.
• lastly i was so late to social media in terms of taking pictures of myself and posting them online. omg i used to hate the idea of even exposing myself in that manner. my friend literally had to beg me to join instagram, now all i do is over share and post my outfits. this makes sense since mercury deals with social media and saturn with delays and restrictions. i was already on internet for a long time and had a lot of notoriety on twitter during the mid to late 10s but nobody knew “me” cause i didn’t wanna be known as myself. even when i did start posting myself i started comparing myself to other people and it got bad so quick. i literally used to build up my instagrams just to delete them when i got self conscious. my friends used to hate that cause i used to get a lot of likes and would promote them. *in my gwen stafani voice* : i’m just a girl 🥲
𝙄𝙉 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝘾𝙇𝙐𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉
• even though this is a very mentally taxing aspect there’s still a lot of positive that it creates once you learn your worth and see your power. i went from being very unsure of myself and constantly self sabotaging cause of intrusive thoughts. to now being fully confident in myself and everything that i do. due to me working and constantly bettering myself as a person. that’s not an easy thing to do but it’s not impossible and everyone will get there at their own pace. 🫂
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© seemy cee all rights reserved 2023
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thegurlwhoisntthere · 4 months
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Okay, so I can’t believe I’m writing this, the Maribat/Daminette fandom has me by the throat so, here we are
There are a lot of fics where Damian comes to Paris and they click and he gets the Black cat miraculous for various reasons, and also a lot where Marinette goes to Gotham with generally the same outcomes, but what about a fic where Damian and his class go on a trip to Paris before Hawkmoth first attacks.
Like, he’s 13 and forced into this trip because the fam wants him to experience more than just being a vigilante and he hates it. His school has a program with Marinette’s, so at the beginning of the year they pack up and plan to spend two weeks in Paris.
This trip just so happens to coincide with when Master Fu is looking for his new Ladybug and Black Cat (y’all see where I’m going with this?)
In this Au, Adrien makes it to the school sooner and misses Master Fu because he’s testing Marinette. Adrien still gets to go to school, because he deserves happiness, but he’s able to get there the first day, and so avoids the whole gum thing that make Marinette hate him, but also sees what Chloe does to Marinette which really changes his initial perspective of school. He would definitely be a temp hero later, but he gets to enjoy being a normal rebellious teen.
Anyway, so Adrien Misses Fu, so who’s going to be the Cat? Well, Damian’s school pulls up at the same time Adrien would have.
The class stops to do a head count and give the general speech of why they’re there in front of the school and Damian’s planning on slipping away because he’s 13 and thinks this is all a waste of his time. He thinks that if he can make it back to the hotel without anyone noticing he’ll be able to make an argument that they forgot him and that he should be allowed to go home (can you see where I’m taking my inspiration from?). Unfortunately for him, Fu sees this and does his test (the fall). All his classmates don’t do anything because they’re from Gotham and are suspicious of everything (and also it’s Paris and they don’t want to be scammed) and the teachers don’t notice. Damian, however, does notice. He considers leaving anyway because it’s not his problem, but he’s been Robin for almost 3 or 4 years at this point and, contrary to what some people might say, has grown a lot. He would feel guilty and maybe even a little unworthy of Robin if he didn’t stop for 2 seconds to help this old man up.
It goes quite similarly to how it did with Adrien, he helps Fu up, but gets caught and can no longer run away from the class.
Basically, this au is a “what if Damian was The Black Cat from the start?”
I have a lot more ideas, but here’s just a few:
Damian isn’t Chat Noir, but I haven’t looked up any cat related names that he could be yet.
As the cat, Damian acts a lot more fun than he normally would allow himself. He’s not Chat Noir level, but this is the first time in his life where literally no one knows who he is and is monitoring his behavior, nor does he have anyone’s expectations on him for who he should be.
He’s initially annoyed with Ladybug, because she’s so clearly untrained, unconfident, and unprepared, but then she comes up with the plan that shows what she could be capable of, and the speech and he might have a crush, but brushes it off as grudgingly respecting her
He 100% plans on training her and their partnership is more equal than what the show portrays it as, because one of my main problems with the actual show is that chat noir, despite being her partner is often shoved aside and given the sidekick role
Damian doesn’t tell his family what’s happening. As far as they’re aware, Paris is fine. Normally he would have, but he had no time until after the fight and he really enjoyed being the cat that he’s like “I’ll tell them later” which keeps being pushed back.
At the end of the trip he somehow talks his family into letting him actually transfer to Paris so he can stay as the cat
He is baffled that this works, but they are all so happy that he’s taking an interest in something other than Robin and Superheroing that they jump on letting him before realizing that it means he’s gonna be in Paris for months.
Dick is sad about this later, so is Bruce and Alfred and the others, but he’s the most vocal about it.
Damian is also baffled that they haven’t figured out what’s going on by now and as everyday passes he gets more and more annoyed by the fact that his so called family of detectives have realized that he’s decided if they can’t figure it out, he’s not telling them.
He has not figured out that magic is preventing knowledge of this from leaving Paris and even if it didn’t, Magic is protecting his identity.
He acts annoyed by Plagg, but he actually loves him so much
His cat outfit is still fun with the ears and tail, but it’s a lot more elaborate and has a utility belt and a lot of hidden things
In fact, because it’s so elaborate, Marinette’s boring suit only stays for the first time she transforms. Once the fight finishes her little fashion designer brain can’t stop thinking about it and comes up with a new design after consulting Tikki.
Of course, she only has the idea of the costume down, because by the time they finalize it, she sees the news and has her depression moment, so the first time she wears it is when she saves Alya.
Due to this first change, her outfit would constantly be changing throughout her time as Ladybug, as she learns more about fighting and what she’s comfortable with, as well as what’s actually possible with magic and the miraculous.
By the end of the year her firs are going to be crazy (wait till she finds out she can change her actual eyes (both color and the pupils and-) hair colors and length)
She will eventually bully Damian into making some changes but he’s generally happy with the first design.
They also know each others identities a lot sooner because Damian actually knows the benefits and his cold logic is able to cut through a lot of her anxiety.
It still doesn’t happen until at least the second season tho.
Y’all I have so much more, but this is getting long and I’ve got things to do so tell me if u want more or feel free to add your own ideas!!!
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asexualbookbird · 4 months
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BEHOLD! BOOKS I READ IN 2023!
A handful of rereads, a lot of new favorites, and I put a huge dent in my physical unread piles! I'm pretty happy with my reading year to be honest!
BEST OF 2023
Nettle and Bone by T Kingfisher - If I haven't talked about it enough please read this. An absolute DELIGHTFUL start to the year, which is odd to say of a book about abusive spouses and dead sisters. Like. I wanted to reread it right after finishing it, and will probably reread it this coming year, I loved it so much
The Untethered Sky by Fonda Lee - also heart wrenching but listen, there are BIRDS! Giant birds!!!! A strange pick me up during a bad time, but it WORKED!
To Shape A Dragon's Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose - Oh what a marvelous read, a delightful adventure, I look forward to book two!
Provenance by Ann Leckie - don't hate me, but I think I might enjoy this more than the Imperial Radch trilogy. It's really what I wanted from A Memory Called Empire, and it was so much fun to see the Radchaai from a different perspective!
The Liar's Knot by MA Carrick - DEROSSI VARGO, MY BELOVED! But also, this has such rich worldbuilding. Every time there's a Pattern reading in a scene, the authors did their own reading in real life and put the results in the book. They came up with multiple calendars for the world. And it never feels overwhelming, everything is integrated so naturally! Ren heists an entire family for her and her sister. A lovely brick of a book :)
Where the Drowned Girls Go by Seanan McGuire - I think this might be my favorite Wayward Children book so far, I'm glad these books are bite sized because I want to read them over and over <3
The Raven Tower by Ann Leckie - WHAT A FUNKY LITTLE BOOK!
WORST OF 2023
Black Wings Beating by Alex London - birds would not fucking do that. Why are we following the most insufferable of the characters. Why is everything about him, even the parts about his sister. Blegh.
Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo - this canNOT be the same book tumblr couldn't stop talking about for months. I know I shouldn't judge a book by its sequel, but I know about the glowing demon dick. Come on. Also, like, the whole book was building up to rescuing someone and then THEY NEVER DID! wtf lol
Tress and the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson - Snooze. Yawn. Snore. One of the most boring books I've read. I was right to avoid Mr Sandwich and his books.
Whalefall by Daniel Kraus - I feel bad because someone hyped this a lot and was excited about it, and so I was excited about it, but it read like it was written specifically for a movie in mind. It's just Daddy Issues™️in the ocean.
This does not include rereads, of which Name of the Wind was one. Yes, I still loved that one. Still fun, still weird that it never felt long despite being a BRICK. Proof I don't hate long books because they're long, I hate long books that don't have to be long. Which is why the Dishonorable mention goes to Priory of the Orange Tree lol Get edited, beloathed.
Anyway! Onwards to 2024! :)
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unloneliest · 7 months
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im so fucking good at making sexy little leverage aus and then never writing them. this is my ma spencer au, which has been lifted directly from my twitter with minimal editing, & which i am haunted by always.
ok so the au. this is going to be very long. every time i listen to spent gladiator 2 by tmg i think abt the leverage team/eliot specifically.
lyrics for context:
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so i was thinking abt an au where eliot was never on the team, bc like. eliot fully got Out of the game, but interacts w them on an early case and ends up falling in with them anyways? BUT i also think a lot about how hard it'd be for any of them to retire bc there's people who hate them who know their faces, yknow? so how WOULD eliot be able to have retired &what has to change for eliot to be that comfortable getting out?
so i figure he maybe got out of the moreau situation earlier. maybe he broke up with the horse girl but they stayed on good terms, and maybe he never did the worst things he ever did for moreau because he had his Getting Out Of There chef connection moment sooner.
but that doesn't undo how recognizable eliot would be to various parties and i was like. well then. what if the chef who was that pivotal person for eliot was a trans woman and was as pivotal with eliot being gendery as she was with eliot retiring?
so like. early 2000s nonbinary/transfeminine he/she eliot spencer finding a few small towns to live in pretty at random but having a home in each one and cycling through them with no discernable pattern?? and being a loved part of the local queer community in all of them?
it's similar to my "eliot never left home and is luke gilmore girls but also co-created a queer bar in his town" au (aside: thank you @lycanqueer for pointing out that connection ages ago, i have been unwell about it ever since).
like . eliot!!!!! eliot probably first connecting with the team bc of the two horse job and slowly begrudgingly helping, joining in on the tap out job, etc.
eliot being like a parent figure to various queer kids in the different towns and they call him "ma spencer" and she wears his practical boots with flannels still but maybe they're with a more feminine tank top and maybe you're as likely to see ma spencer in a no nonsense knee length skirt as a sturdy pair of jeans. and maybe sometimes he braids her hair . and she's mr. spencer too and well respected by the folks of whatever town he's staying in, too stubborn and helpful and intimidating not to be!
eliot being openly down for a casual relationship both with parker and hardison from when she first gets to know them onward—and him keeping his past quiet still, but it getting harder to keep the parts of her life seperate as he finds herself getting closer with the team & with more serious feelings for parker and hardison.
maybe the team's hitter is Tara? i feel like she's capable of that? but she has to be the grifter when sophie goes on her break and eliot joins in "Just Once" but it ends up being more than that.
eliot would have a lot of complicated feelings abt joining in—like, both being happy with the peace she found & not wanting to risk that but still feeling like he needs to pay penance and that this is a way to do that.
and then season 3 hits completely different. i think this eliot would talk about his past once she found out they were targeting moreau, but i think team dynamics would overall be super different in general. the team would be way less of a unit with nate than when you see things from his perspective—espeicially without eliot always there to insulate the team from the worst of him.
anyways im gonna be thinking about this for the next 800 years. will i ever write this fic? probably no. but ma spencer is so real to me
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aberrymilk · 7 months
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No, but like, WHY do people care so much about other people ship preferences?
I get it, I don't ship the obvious ones or the "right" or what was given to me by the author, but IS JUST A SHIP.
Look, don't get me wrong, I'm not angry at other preferences when it comes to this. What I get annoyed at is that when there is an illustration, an edit, a fucking fic, any kind of media, that shows that romantic dynamic between the characters they will be like
"siblings 🩷" "omg no how could ship that? They aren't like that." "Have you read the books ?" "Omg, people actually ship them?" "The author said..." "omg but this (name of other ship), it's so much better," and so on.
My beautiful person who comments in every edit of (some examples, but I'm sure that there's more) harmony, lunami, zutara, sasusaku .... do you really think that they/we don't know or care about this ? Do you know what you look like when u comment stuff like that? An idiot who can't let others have a different opinion on literally fiction character's romance life, like that one kid in kindergarten who saw another kid getting a toy and go's on about how that toy is lame compared to theirs, a spoiled brat.
You have so many things to be arguing about in the actual plot, but you can't cus you think that the idea of nami and luffy together is so wrong that you go around in every media of them "oda said..." But with other members of the crew, oda said absolutely nothing... not only that, but are we really discussing this ? Can we be talking about I don't know... how racist and hypocrites are some people in this famdon? Really give your disappointment and disgust to that(what is actually important).
Harry and Hermione are another great example of "I know they aren't like that but I like the idea of it" WE KNOW THEY AREN'T LIKE THAT but we think is cute it could HAVE BEING cute, sometimes people just grow up shipping and seeing they as a possible couple, like people who grow hating sakura and now simply can't have a actually good argument of why she should be hated on... that was an ironic comment by the way but also not, ( no, her not liking the main character the same way shouldn't be one, or the author not giving her screen time either much less cus of the fact the the anime did her dirty with so much disconnect things from the manga, like her relationship with sasuke <his perspective of it > or naruto himself for that matter, hate on a literally 12 years old for saying shit that every fucking person in the village grew up thinking, funny, why not hate on the thirdkage then? The person who could have actually stopped the hate on a little kid) [Sorry that got out of the main point]
Or zutara, my God, people get personal with just as harmony, relax, just cus I like them doesn't mean I hate kataang, surprise or not I do think they are indeed very cute, I'm pretty sure some other people who ship zutara too... we just see the potential, what could have happened, once again, enemies to friends to loves, the plot, you know ? There is no need to get offended by the IDEA of it. We love the drama and the fic, the illustrations, the edits are just a format that represents and shows it, share if people who likes it, you don't like it ? Oh well, let me tell you a secret, ignore it, you probably ignore so much more important things, why not a fucking edit of ship you don't even like ?, oh you can't ? You can't see other people "toy" and shut about your disappointment on it, is it that hard ?, oh well, have you actually not known that there's an amazing thing within social media, when you hold/press or simply click on the 3 dots on the top of the post, there's a option there, that's right, BLOCK IT the algorithm will understand if you continue blocking it, unlike some people.
I'm just rambling about this because I'm sick and tired of people being such a killjoy, I just want to enjoy "my ship" and see the comments of people who actually likes it to, not yours "siblings 🩷" in post which is definitely not about that, or "oda said..." when i didn't ask what he said, you know people have different things that brings them a scape from reality that brings them a funny giggle (no killing others people joy, when it's such a basic no harmful thing), wave of emotion for those who don't get to feel much in the day-to-day life or simple just cus.
It just petty of you, be better.
Ps.. There is no offense for those who ship other characters within these plots(or different ones), original, popular, or unpopular. Do your thing. Be happy. Just don't spoil others.
Ps2... NO I'm not defending incest that's no it at fucking all ( sorry if I didn't make it clear). I said "siblings" when it came to lunami and Harry x Hermione (cus people like to comment that on posts that aren't even about it < the platonic soul mates comment>), they AREN'T related or grown up at such. Point is you hating the idea of it and going on every post about the ship and hating there. hate all you want, but not on ,obviously, posts that are for the fans of the ship.
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arandomdai · 14 days
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A Random Thought 🤔💭
THIS IS JUST AN OPINION. I JUST SAY WHAT'S ON MY MIND ABOUT THE BOOK AND SHOWCASE SOME IDEAS THAT I HAVE.
P.S.: You can ask me anything 😊
Let me start of by saying...
I don't like how Zeus is the only one who is blamed for why the marriage is basically over, when Hera is (dare I say) equally at fault. This book continues to gaslight the audience about who should be held accountable and who deserves all the hate. Let's be clear on one thing, Zeus has abused his power, is a cheater, does lie, etc. but where is all the smoke for the other characters that has done the same or similar. But let's refresh everybody's memory why he started treating women disrespectfully...
⚠️WARNING: WHAT YOUR ABOUT TO READ OR SEE CAN BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME AUDIENCES!!!⚠️
•Metis: The Start Of His Addiction
So let's hypothetically say that the brothers are 3 years apart from age
Hades was 19
Poseidon was 15/16
Zeus WAS PROBABLY 13 OR 14 WHEN THIS HAPPENED TOO
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I think he was not just mentally scarred from the war and seeing his mother (who he didn't know about until later)going into hibernation, but also scarred that he learned about "hit and quit it" at a very young vulnerable age. Not only that he probably learned "until everything cools down" from her too. Atp, I'm going to need this book banned or something because it just doesn't make sense to me how this book is supposed to support all victims, until it's Zeus. Zeus is a victim. No matter how many times people and RS tries to make him this evil guy. But like I said before, he has done so many wrongs, which he is trying to right. But I find it interesting that Metis is not called out for having sex with a minor. Zeus and Hera are around the same age which means back then they weren't able to consent. And yet Hera is the only victim smh. Zeus is now a sex addict and doesn't know where to start. WHEN YOU SAY YOU FEEL SORRY FOR ALL VICTIMS, MAKE SURE YOU INCLUDE THE MEN THAT ARE TOO. DON'T PICK AND CHOOSE WHO TO FEEL SORRY FOR. I hate that this book gaslights people into thinking that everything is okay when it's being pro patriarchy.
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• The Marriage: Both Sides Are At Fault
We all know Zeus is very unfaithful, but he shows so much of his guilt his own way. But (I ask again) where's all this smoke for Hera and Hades. Hera is married and has been seeing her Blu brother-in-law behind his back for centuries. Yet, I don't see any ounce of guilt from her or Hades. Hera is a victim don't get me wrong, but so is Zeus. TWO WRONGS DON'T MAKE A RIGHT. And for blue gru to judge Zeus for everything while you were sleeping with his wife is vile. The fact Hera or Hades never asked him why he continues cheating or be honest with him about their affair is right down dirty. Oh but it doesn't stop there...
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Look at these pictures...
See how Zeus tries his best to care for Hera and even admits that he thinks he was the worst thing that ever happened to her. While Hera just says "You made it hard for me, but I love you. Bye". She says she loves him, but I don't think she does. I think there was a time that she did love him, but I think they got bored of each other (from Zeus's perspective). I feel like Hera wanted the crown (power) more than the King. She treats being a queen like it's a trophy. So she basically blocked Demeter from being queen all just to not be satisfied later (which I'm glad Demeter dodged a bullet). Not only is Hera cruel, but she is just insufferable. She treats everyone like crap and expects everyone to be nice to her including Zeus. He fights tooth and nail to do right by her or win her back, but she doesn't see him trying to be a better husband nor do the same. She doesn't even try to make it a safe place for him to talk to her and be honest. When he wakes up, that divorce paper needs to be signed with the quickness because they're both miserable, they're both want there freedom, and they're not happy.
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• My Final Thoughts
Zeus's life is basically 16 CARRIAGES by Beyoncé. He was minding his business at Lake Dikte just a village boy helping nymphs, until Rhea came. Rhea told a early teen Zeus that he has to help his brothers and stop his tyrant father from destroying the world. After everything, he was mentally scarred at the age of 14. I know this is wishful thinking, but I think if he went to lake Dikte (after he wakes up), I think he would be more at peace again. He deserved better. And for this book to have so many contradictions throughout makes this book hypocritical and morally corrupt. You can see the stark difference between teen Zeus and the Zeus we see now. When looking at the picture on right, you see his bags showing more verses the left one when he was younger. This shows you how tired, hardworking, and mentally drained he is.
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corrodedseraphine · 4 months
Text
timezone | #3 and I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed
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pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader, chrissy cunningham x robin buckley
chapter summary: Eddie decides to get you back no matter what. You, on the other hand, are looking for an escape.
the story is also avaliable on ao3
previous chapter | masterlist | eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist
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After a sleepless night, Eddie was already out of bed at dawn and determined to head straight for a meeting with the manager to settle an issue that should have been finished long ago.
Unfortunately, it ended in a brawl. The manager didn't even want to hear about ending the pretended relationship with Chrissy. As one of the most popular and beloved couples in show business, they had a certain amount of responsibility, including various contacts and collaborations that generously enriched the label's bank account. Money, however, was the last thing Eddie could think about. The only thing that mattered to him was you. No matter what the price, he had to do everything he could to try to clarify the situation and win you back.
"We need to end this bullshit!" he shouted getting up from the table.
"It's not an option, we are just preparing another collaboration with an advertising campaign for Valentine's Day."
"Valentine's Day is six months away!"
"Such things must be decided in advance." The man watched with a poker-faced expression as the young guitarist boiled over. "I won't let you risk all your contracts because of some girl," he said.
"She is not just SOME girl." he growled through his teeth.
"Then why did you leave her? Why did you get into a relationship with Chrissy if she's not just SOME girl?"
Taken aback, Eddie didn't know what to answer. He loved you more than anything, but he knew that from a third party's perspective this situation looked very different.
"I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed," he slammed his fist on the table, recalling the words of the song that was flying in his head on loop. "I am cutting the bullshit, now."
"If you do that, you'll destroy everything we've worked for all these years. Ask yourself if it's worth it."
"It's worth a lot more." Fury clouded his eyes when he heard the way he was talking about you.
"If you even try in any way to affect a change in your relationship with Chrissy, you have no business coming back here. You'll be over."
"Fuck you."
Eddie was used to people's stares when he walked on the street, he usually didn't care, but today it seemed too suspicious and intense. Every now and then, looking around him, he came to a newsstand. What he saw there made his blood rush. On the front pages of the papers was a picture of you from the beach, with a big, eye-expanding EDDIE MUNSON'S SECRET LOVER.
Without a second thought, he threw bills on the counter to the salesman and collected all the copies with him only to throw them in the trash, cursing under his breath. The unexpected flash had acted on him like a flea on a bull, and the fact that he recognized the paparazzi who took the photo completely made him lose control. Throwing himself at the man, he felt fury. When his rings met the face of the person who was the reason that the world would now view and hate you for the breakup of the beloved Hollywood couple. He was snapped out of his angry trance by the sight of blood on his hands and the police dragging him away from the paparazzi. He didn't even defend himself when the handcuffs were placed on his wrists.
After three hours in jail, Jeff showed up at the station to pay bail and take Eddie home.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked as they closed the door behind them.
"What do you want me to say since you know everything?" asked Eddie sarcastically as he walked into the living room, where the rest of the guys, Chrissy and Robin were.
"What the hell dude?" asked Gareth, Eddie that due to his old reputation in Hawkins, he always tried to avoid all kinds of fights and unpleasant situations. He was shocked by his friend's behavior. "What has gotten into you?!"
Eddie wordlessly dodged everyone and headed to the kitchen to pull frozen vegetables from the freezer onto his sore hand.
"uh, I- I might have an idea." said Robin uncertainly, reaching for his backpack and pulling out a newspaper.
"Fuck." said Gareth seeing the cover.
"Yeah, fuck." replied Munson groggily. "Anyone else have any pointless questions?" silence was enough of an answer. When he returned to the living room he stood in front of everyone gathered and took a deep breath. "I'm leaving the band."
"What?!"
"You heard me. I have no other choice."
"But- why?!"
Still full of negative emotions, he recounted the meeting with the manager and explained that nothing would be able to change his decision. The priority for him was to fight for love, but he didn't want to drag others along with him because the consequences could be painful. Just because he was ready to walk off the stage didn't mean his friends were too, and he didn't want his consequences to be theirs too. However, he didn't expect them to have a different opinion on the matter.
"Dude, do you really think we'll let you go?" asked Jeff crossing his arms over his chest.
"You are insane." added Simon.
"Screw Pete and his label, if you leave, we're leaving with you!"
"You guys are popular enough that you should have no problem finding a new label." Robin said.
"Guys, for real I don't expect you-"
"Shut up and start thinking about how to get y/n back." interjected Gareth. Eddie didn't even try to hide his emotion. The gentle smile on his face showed the shadow of hope that had awakened in him despite the awful start to the day.
"I have an idea." Chrissy said. "But it's very risky and…public."
"I'll do anything." he replied without thinking.
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Walking out of the house you didn't expect to be the most recognizable person on the street, the gaze of other people burned holes in your body from all sides however what completely knocked you out of rhythm were groups of girls shouting insults in your direction. Your anxiety was getting stronger and stronger. You fixed your eyes on the sidewalk and headed as fast as you could to Steve's bar, where you promised to help out as a waitress, since crowd today was exceptionally heavy.
"Here you are! I thought you wouldn't come! How are you feeling?" Layla ran up to you from the entrance.
"Fine, but some strange things are happening…" you reply confused.
"Oh my God, you don't know." your friend replied while covering her mouth.
"Don't know what?"
"y/n! How are you holding up? It's all fucked up!"
"Steve she doesn't know…"
"Oh."
"Can someone explain?" you asked impatiently. What the hell was going on?
"Come with me." the girl grabbed your hand and dragged you to the back room, where she handed you a newspaper.
Bitch.
Slut.
Whore.
Suddenly all the terms you heard about yourself made a lot more sense to you. The pressure in your heart that you had felt since the kiss tightened even more. However, you could not allow yourself a moment of weakness. You knew that if you broke down now, you wouldn't get back together for a very long time.
Seeing the worried expressions on your friends' faces, you blinked a few times to chase the tears away and grunted. You had to be strong.
"I'll go get ready for work." you said quietly.
"You don't have to-" began Layla, but you didn't let her finish by disappearing out the door.
Completely focusing your attention on remembering orders you successfully managed to push invasive thoughts aside. More and more people were gathering in the premises, and you couldn't help feeling that some of them had come here just to see you.
Everyone wanted to see with their own eyes what Eddie Munson's mistress looked like. Everyone wanted to see if the person on the cover was better than Chrissy, if the person responsible for the cheating was at least worth it. Most people said no. Some didn't even try to hide their comments. Your head was bursting with comparisons to the model and loud whispers that brought your biggest insecurities to light.
Of course you were no match for Chrissy. Never once in your life did it even cross your mind to compare yourself to her in any positive sense. In the negative for that too often. Again you felt like a teenager with ruined self-esteem. Unfortunately, however, this time all the voices in your head got out and materialized. After a long time of hearing that you were insufficiently attractive and Eddie had lost his mind cheating on Chrissy with a mere waitress, you were relieved to see that it was time for a break.
Carrying the last order to your table, you didn't notice how three girls with fury in their eyes burst into the local. Before you had time to react in any way, one of them grabbed the glass that was on the tray and poured its contents right in your face.
"Slut." she said with a strange satisfaction.
The next events flashed through your head barely registered. Steve threw them out of the place, Layla quickly led you to the bathroom to help you dry off. All the while she was saying something to you, and you were nodding without even fully knowing what. Her voice was distant and all the ambient sounds were drowned out by your heartbeat. Later, you accepted Steve's offer to drive you home without protest. You couldn't stand another walk full of eyes filled with curiosity or hatred.
Steve, having his set of keys to your apartment, went inside first. Closing the door behind him, still somewhat stunned, you heard only his surprised and raised voice.
"What the fuck, Robin?!"
"Jesus, Steve!" she exclaimed.
Following their voices, you entered the living room where a sight that you were definitely not prepared for awaited you. The sight, however, was something that brought you back down to earth. Robin with disheveled hair, puffy lips, glossy eyes and an unbuttoned shirt was looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights. Right next to her stood Chrissy in exactly the same condition. Chrissy.
Beautiful, charming, sweet, lovely Chrissy.
The favorite of the whole country, and maybe even the world, Chrissy.
The Chrissy who, according to Eddie, you never had to be jealous of.
Chrissy, who was allegedly madly in love with him, was now standing with a guilty expression on her face waiting for your outburst.
Could this situation get any more complicated?
Without giving you time to explain, you went straight to your room and pulled out a bag from under your bed, into which you started throwing your clothes. You didn't know where you would go, however, what was certain was that you wouldn't stay in this apartment for a while longer.
Ignoring all requests for a chance to clarify the situation, you left a panicked Robin and Chrissy with a confused Steve alone. It's been a long time since you felt as lost as you do now. Not thinking much, you went straight. to the bus station, and there you chose the only direction you knew.
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Sitting opposite the mirror, Eddie noticed Chrissy's pale and nervous face in the reflection. He knew the expression perfectly well.
"What's wrong?" he asked before she could say anything. The blonde swallowed nervously and began to recount the situation that had occurred in the apartment.
"She saw what?!"
"Eddie, please-"
"Couldn't you keep your hands to yourself for a while?!"
"We didn't know she'd come back early! She was supposed to help Steve!
"What did she say?" He asked with a sigh.
"Nothing…she left the apartment without a word."
"Oh my fucking god," he sighed and hid his face in his hands.
"Are you guys ready?" A man entered the room and asked. "We'll start in two minutes."
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taglist: @i-me-mine @greatpizzascissorstaco @alanamarie @hiscrimsonangel @micheledawn1975
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lilislegacy · 2 months
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Honestly I don't think Annabeth would ever really forgive her mortal family in fact I think she might hate them for a veryyy loooong time (the way she talked about in tlt was crazy like she did not like and the fact that she only tried to reconnect after losing luke says a lot) like family either blood or chosen has failed her and broke her beyond repair that she probably just decides fuck it being nobody's daughter was and is easier than this.
thanks for the ask!
i totally see where you’re coming from. and i think it’s a realistic idea. they did make awful choices and they really really hurt her and messed her up. so it’s completely understandable why you and many other people think she’d continue to hate them.
let me explain why i personally believe otherwise
1. in the titans curse, when annabeth is in danger, frederick seems super worried about her and goes to great lengths - aka blindly attacking the titan army in his little plane - to rescue her. in addition, mrs. chase is also really concerned about her, and immediately tells percy and them to take their car to rescue her. she’s fully on board with doing whatever it takes to help annabeth. i wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who told frederick to actually do something useful with his damn plane and rescue his daughter. and then before percy leaves, she tells him to make sure annabeth knows that she always has a home with them. this makes it clear her parents love her and want her to come home.
2. by the time she’s 16/17, annabeth seems to have improved her relationship with her father a lot. she recounts them spending time together and watching old movies together. she also says that her dad opened up to her emotionally, and admitted that he was still in love with athena. that’s some pretty deep stuff. so i think they had already significantly improved their relationship by that point in heroes. it’s far from perfect, but much stronger than before.
3. in blood of olympus, annabeth says “My dad… my stepmom and stepbrothers. After all I’ve been through in the past year, it seems stupid that I resented them for so long.” for one, she says “resented” past tense, implying she no longer feels that way. and second, it shows that she wants a better relationship with them. she regrets having pushed them away for so long.
your opinion is completely valid. and i think a lot of people ageee with you. the only reason i don’t is because there’s textual evidence that she wants a better relationship with her family. that, coupled with the fact that she lives in san francisco for 4 years while at college, where they’re nearby and she can see then anytime, makes me think it’s very likely they make up.
but as i’ve said in previous posts, i don’t think it comes easily. i think it takes time and a lot of honesty. probably some yelling and crying. and as i mentioned in a previous post (which you can find in my top posts) i think percy loses his shit on them at some point for treating annabeth the way they did.
as i said, you make a completely fair point! it’s an entirely possible scenario. and i love hearing all different perspectives. thank you for sharing!!
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phoeebsbuffay · 2 years
Text
Imagine you were a slave in Tatooine, where you’d been acquainted with Anakin Skywalker. In fact, you were very close to him. However, you didn’t have the Force and somehow the Jedis couldn’t take you with them so you had to endure your condition for a long while whereas Anakin was destiny to another path. Nonetheless, years later you meet in different positions.
Warnings: unburnt Vader, alternative universe, drama, smut, fluff.
Warnings 2: “We Found Love”, by Rihanna; “Laughter Lines” by Bastille. “Everybody Wants To Rule the World”, by Lorde.
Warnings 3: no Padmé in this world.
Minors, don’t read.
***
•Intro•
Anakin’s POV.
He hated sand. All the more the dust that came with the flying ships he was forced to face in the markets. In fact, there was absolutely nothing he’d not hate in Tatooine.
“My son, grumpiness will not easy things for you.” His mother often told him. Her gentleness and warm heart were the only reward of that misery Anakin called life.
He tried not to complain so much, accostumed to spend time alone. Or building droids, fixing ships, studying mechanics with other fellow slaves. It was when he came to meet you.
You were selling a piece at the market that Anakin required to complete the droid he named as C3-P0. He came after you, finding strange why a girl with two brown-ish braids and a chubby face should be selling a valuable object such as the one you were holding.
“Hey”, he said. “Are you the one responsible for selling this?”
Anakin could tell you were as unhappy as he was; the way you were staring into the nothing not only showed you were bored, but exposed your state of melancholy—again, both states he’d been familiar with. Anakin felt compassionate to you.
You looked up at this boy with sandy hair and blue eyes, serious and cocky in manners. For some reason, though, it was enough to inspire you kindness. Often used to be ignored by most people who came to the tent your masters were selling things, you were surprised that boy noticed you.
“Are you talking to me?” You had to be sure.
Anakin rolled his eyes.
“Yes, who else would I speak to?”
“No one speaks to me”, you shrugged your shoulders. “It’s a rare occasion. Hence why I asked.”
“That seems harsh”, Anakin pitied you.
“That’s okay. I’m used to it.” You offered him a smile. “So do you want to buy this piece, eh?”
“Yeah. How did you find it?”
“I didn’t. My masters did…” And you ended up telling him all about this finding, a topic that impressed Anakin very much.
“Your memory is very good.” He said, amazed. “How should I name you?”
“Y/N”, you introduced yourself. You smiled because it seemed that you were making a new friend.
This perspective was thrilling for Anakin too. He was often surrounded by adults, ignored by them as well.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Anakin Skywalker.”
Though he did buy the piece that was missing, Anakin managed to convince his master to acquire you. You were eventually sold so not only you were useful for his master but also Anakin had you closer to him.
In these days where neither had tasks waiting to be done, Anakin would drag you to the roof. There, the two of you would lie down and watch the stars together.
“What do you think that lies beyond, Y/N?” Anakin asked you. Your quick wit was a trait he mostly appreciated in you.
“I have read books telling the stories of planets.” You confided him. “There are plenty out there. Some are peaceful, others not so much. Different lives, where slavery is not a part of their cultures.”
Anakin watched you mesmerized.
“How’d you know that?”
“Because I’ve heard my former master discussing with his buyers that the Senate is voting to stop slavery throughout galaxy.” You then hesitate. “Can I tell you a secret, Ani?”
For some reason he liked how you called him. Unconsciously he took your hand and you held it tight.
“Yes, Y/N. Of course.”
“I have a dream. I want to be free.” You whispered. “I want to see these planets. I want to meet the universe. Silly me, right?”
He paused. A dream he could identify himself too.
“No.” Anakin said slowly. Sadness began to crawl upon your hearts. “It’s something I’d like to live too, Y/N. I hate Tatooine.”
“I hate sand.”
You both laughed. That night, you were each other’s only best friends.
*
Anakin would never forget how paled you looked when Master Qin-Gon Jinn and his Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi lamented profoundly for being unable to take you with them.
“Taking you is a risk. Unfortunately, it is not possible to bring Y/N with us.” Master Qin-Gon said.
Anakin was not pleased. He knew you would cry. He stepped forward and said:
“I promise Y/N. I promise I’ll come back to you.”
But he never really did. Until the day your name comes back to his mind only to poison his heart.
***
Nowadays.
Your POV.
Your braided brown-ish hair with shades in silver and dark blue falls over your shoulder. In your lips, a red lipstick paints them full. But other than that, no sign of make up. Small earrings decorate your ears. Vanity only rose when you came to the point where you could purchase it.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you like your reflection. A white blouse is slightly covered by the black jacket you wear, which matches the black leather pants you dress. To complete, a pair of black’n’white boots reinforce your style.
The room you are finishing to dress is not yours. You’ve only recently rented it from a tavern lady in the underworld of Corascunt. Ever since you left Tatooine, all you’ve done was getting yourself somewhat richer… and free.
Your adolescence was not easier. It was difficult as Tatooine was plagued with the clone wars. Part of you resented Anakin for never filling his promise. You’ve never came to meet him—before he came to rescue his mother, you’d already been sent to another man and managed to escape his possession.
Was it wrong of me to blame the Jedis for taking my best friend away? Was I this insecure to the point of believe he was part of me?
You never understood very well these sentiments. But from the moment you stopped accepting the condition of slave and purchased—whether legally or not—your liberty, you were out of control.
It came with good and bad parts. Right before the rise of Empire, for example, you were found at the Clone bar. You got yourself a one night stand with, what was his name again, oh yes, Fives. Whatever happened to him, you’d not know. Neither did you care.
As usual, you learned to live by yourself. You earned enough credits for your reputation to grow in the empire. Enough to begin to attract a perhaps not so desirable attention.
You could not care less about Jedis and Siths. Fuck them. As long as you remain free and untouched, all is well. You stay out of trouble and they seem to willingly ignore you.
But this day is going to be different and you cannot figure out why. As you put a blaster in your right thigh, you sense this day is not going to be like the other ones.
Weird.
It is as if there’s a pair of eyes following you even though you make sure twice, thrice that you are not being followed.
Whatever.
It’s when the Empire soldier identifies you. Two of them comes after you as you leave the tavern. You have no time to curse. You steal somebody’s ship and prepare to pilot away. You’d not be caught. Your heart races as a chasing begins.
What is the reason for the Empire to chase after you? You don’t understand. You’re not even a fucking rebel. And as far as you know, what crime did you commit that the Empire has not done following the appearances of the law? Oh the hypocrisy.
You fly fast, but not, as you angrily remember, as Anakin would have done. You do recall that he had his tricks. What were those again? Think fast, think fast.
Though you strange the fact you have not been under attack yet, you remain suspicious. For now, when remembering the old tricks Anakin taught you, you manage to overpass the enemies. But not long enough.
Before you know a dark bigger ship captures you.
***
Vader’s POV.
He watches as your ship is captured. A small smirk twitches in the corner of his lips when detecting the old tricks he’d taught you when both of you were infants.
Despite the darkness that involves him, reinforced by his presence in dark cape, whose hood eclipses his frame from public eyes, thus inspiring an aura of fear, Lord Vader is relieved to find you. Well and alive.
It’s been two or three weeks since the thought of you came back unwelcomingly so. For some reason, he’d been haunted ever since he’s last been in Tatooine for never being able to reach out for you. So many events happened ever since, but you never left his thought.
He is anxious to see you. However masked these feelings are, he cannot run from them. He wishes to know you. Your reputation reached his ears and Vader isn’t sure how he feels about it. But he needs to know if you are…well.
The door is abruptly open and without even turning, Vader hears you trying to fight your captors. He feels your anger, your trauma—the very same that used to plague him, perhaps contributing to his association to Palpatine. He never appreciated being chained. Neither did you.
“Let her go.” Lord Vader commands.
The door closes. He turns and waits. He watches you. The helmet you wore had been removed from you; so your braid is messy. There’s sweat in your forehead, your eyes glinting with panic—he could tell by your chest going up and down that you are having a panic attack. You bury your fingers into the palm of your hands.
In spite of the evident fear, you don’t seem overwhelmed by it. Vader sees the woman you’ve become: cheeky, aggressive…but also lonely and sad. A sensual woman so full of herself, but one just as hurt as he is.
“Y/N…” He breaks the silence before you do. “It’s been so long.”
“I-I-I don’t know you.” Your eyes are blurry with tears. Vader knows your pride. But he wonders where that sweet girl has gone. “Who are you? Kill me! I would rather die than give myself to you!”
You are paralyzed though. Vader knows you have a plan, but fear freezes you. It’s when he stops right before you. It’s when his hood drops, exposing his identity.
“Anakin?!” You exclaim, perplexed. “A-Anakin Skywalker? You… You’ve become Darth Vader?”
Vader does not say a word for a moment. He watches as you begin to cry. At first he is led to believe that you weep because of who he was and what has he become. But you surprise Vader by slapping his face.
“How could you?! How could you do this to me?” You throw your resentments at him. “How could you leave me there?”
Vader lifts his hand. There’s little point to say. He means to choke you. Perhaps putting an end to your life, but then… the sadness that defies him reminds him the older days. That very same sadness that made Anakin turn into Vader.
So he lets go of you.
Vader knows he should leave, but he watches you catch your breath and weep nervously. There’s anger in you, he knows it.
“Y/N…”, he softens and you are forced to look at him. “I’ve never meant to forsake you. I shouldn’t have.”
How ironic it is that your darkness brings the light out of him. You see that, and it moves your heart. Carefully, you stand. Vader is anxious again to know how you feel.
In other circumstances, he wouldn’t be as merciful. Or kind. Nor even generous. When looking at you, however, he’s remembered of liberty. Of the desire the two of you once aimed to break through all these chains. He comes to see that he’s never stopped obeying others, taking orders.
Vader comes to see he’s been manipulated all along.
“I don’t know why I should care”, you say when finally finding your voice and interrupting the chaos that is Vader’s mind. Your eyes linger at his golden curls and his yellow eyes. You don’t fear him. “I’m trapped either way, aren’t I? By the maker, what have we done to ourselves?”
He raises his hand but, to your surprise, he gently caress your cheek. His hand is gloved but you suspect his touch his warm. You cannot drift away.
“I’ve never stopped thinking about you.” He says. “I know I was meant to protect you. I promised you I’d take you to stars and beyond. It shouldn’t have gone the way it was.”
“Life happened.” It’s all you come to say. “But are you free, Ani? Are you living the life you’ve always wanted?”
A question dangerously posed. It makes Vader remove his hand and you shiver at the cold that comes with the void he leaves. The two of you stare. Vader knows you see right through him.
“Yes. I am what I was born to be. Soon, you will too.”
And just like that he leaves you there.
***
Your POV.
You feel the cold in your new surroundings. Nothing ever is as it should be. Left alone in a strange environment, you begin to wonder whether you are a prisioner or not.
Typical.
Chains would never leave you, would they?
You turn around to leave then. Your tears are dried and you feel empty inside. Some trooper leads you to a chamber where you are expected to stay. You don’t care how this sounds to your ears. You need a shower.
As you untangle your hair and remove your clothes, your mind is blank. There’s little to think about until you enter the shower and let the hot water burn your skin.
Yet, when you close your eyes, you see the handsome features of Anakin. As much as you try, you cannot associate him to being Vader. Curiously, you don’t find obstacles to accept him the way he presents now.
I suppose this Vader was always there. I remember how often Anakin was angry as a boy. Can’t blame him to see him now.
The weight of the past burns your shoulders. Suddenly it’s not about him anymore or his wounds. But yours.
The scars slavery left physically and psychologically on you. The stories of abuse and wars that turned your skin into ivory, into stone. These yellow eyes you stare, they stare right back at you. And you cry.
You cry because you are scared. Not of death, but loneliness. To be alone in this world plagued by vicious wars is so ravishing. What happened to the dreams you used to have?
You turn off the shower, completely numb. You need something to drown your sorrow, but you are so tired that you drop in bed, wrapped around the towel. You don’t even register his presence in your quarters.
How on earth he was there, quietly and unseen? When he comes to your side, you sense it. But you are so tired, so exhausted.
“I’m here, my queen.” His voice is husky. Somehow your emotional breaking down sensibilizes a man who for the past few years cared very little to other people’s pain. “I’m not going to leave you ever again. I promise you.”
He slips right to your side of bed. You smell his perfume, but you don’t move. Your eyes are closed and you feel him snaking his arms around you, pulling you close. It feels good, it feels like home. He provides you the solace to your open wounds. That is how you fall asleep, sleeping well for the first time in a long time.
When you wake up, though, he is not there. To your disappointment, he’s vanished, faded away. Perhaps you fell under the trick of illusion? You could not say. But you swear to yourself that how he embraced you—in spite of you being still wrapped in the towel, oh Maker!—it felt too warm and nice.
You blush. Nonsense. It’s time to dress and so you do. You brush your long hair before braiding it again. You are hungry and anxious about this new day. What’s going to be?
You barely open the door and some man dressed in grey clothes looks at you in a nonchalant matter.
“Lord Vader awaits you in his privy chambers.”
You nod. How come he affects you so? You take a deep breath, struggling with yourself. It’s a childish memory, you think, as you follow the lead of this soldier. Just that. You have missed him as a child, read his regret and there you are!
But once doors are open, your emotions seem to deny your reason. When you see him alone with no hood but dressed in black robes, you almost smile. What a handsome sight to behold.
A thought he captures because Vader says:
“You look well this morning too, Y/N. Come and sit with me.”
You do so, taking a seat across the table so he reads in the color of your eyes the mix of feelings that have been battling inside you.
“Did you rest well?” Vader inquires, watching you as you eagerly eat the fruits, breads and serving yourself some juice. How long had you not eaten well? He’s baffled.
“I did, yes. Though I believe I’ve been under some enchantment”, you say so naturally as if the two of you were the same friends of Tatooine, where you and him were allowed to be yourselves.
You swear you could see a smile on Vader’s lips but you don’t want to investigate that because, damn, you find out you’ve been starving.
“Why’s that?” He puts an effort in not sounding very amused.
“Because I swear you were there by my side when I dropped in bed.” You raise your eyes only to meet those yellow ones staring into yours. But you don’t discourage him to part the gaze. “Well?”
“I’ll leave that to your thoughts. I hope the food fits your tastes.”
You don’t like the answer, but you don’t think you are in a position to question him. So you permit yourself to be distracted.
“It does, thank you.” You hesitate at how you should address him. “I don’t think I’ve eaten this well in ages.”
You see there’s sadness in his eyes when you say that, a reminder of the days spent in Tatooine. Vader does still feel guilty for leaving you there. For never trying to reach it out for you.
“Hey”, you can read his thoughts. “It’s all right.”
“It shouldn’t be.” Vader clenches his jaw. “You were taken away from me, Y/N! You suffered long years… Speaking of which, how did you free yourself?”
Uncomfortable topic, Vader could tell. But you trust him. For you, he’s the same boy you’ve once known.
“I killed my master.” You tell him as you take the coffee to your mouth. Black coffee. So good. “He’s bought me for my intelligence…”
“A trait so remarkable on you”, he tells you, pleased to make you blush.
“…well, yes. But he was unkind. I was so exhausted of that life style. I… I just exploded.” You have always ran from this moment of survival. To look back at it now feels strange. Distant even.
“I understand you more than you think. The moment’s over. We are free to be ourselves now.”
You don’t answer him, letting the silence hang between the two of you. You don’t need to know his past. He appreciates it.
When he extends his hand out for you, you take it. And both of you smile at each other. You are finally reunited. Free as you should be.
***
Vader’s POV.
His sense of possessiveness towards you increases as the days pass. The more he sees you, the more he wants you. There’s neither good or bad whenever the two of you gather together.
Without your awareness, you teach him what freedom really is. Vader realizes he’s been but a puppet to the Emperor. It angers him to be forced to acknowledge it. All the losses he went through… for what?
Uninvited, he meets Palpatine. An inevitable battle is fought. Accusations of weaknesses are heard. He doesn’t need to use words to overpower his master. He needs little to do so.
A victory to Vader when Sidious eventually falls dead.
“I am free, you son of a bitch. You control me no more.”
Now self proclaimed Emperor, he, however, holds little interest to none in the title. In fact, it’s insignificant when he meets you later that day, seeing that you are training in the blue room with some troopers.
Vader sends all of them away, enjoying how powerful he is. How feared he is to all. But you.
“Anakin”, It’s how you address him when the two of you are alone. “What brings you here?”
“Do I need a reason to see you?”
Vader enjoys the view he has of you. How the heat paints your cheeks a deep shade of pink. It makes him smirk.
“You should build more confidence in yourself.” He walks around you and stops right behind you, resting his hands on your waist. “There’s power in you, if only you knew.”
“I don’t have the Force”, he detects resentment in your voice. “A reason why you left me, in the first place.”
Vader frowns. He turns you at him.
“I won’t leave you, Y/N. Ever again.” His eyes linger at the color of your skin, at the color of your eyes, his hands going up and down your shoulders. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice. He won’t lose you. Not again, not this time.
You soften when realizing that. The fear in his voice betrays the mask he’s been wearing ever since he’d been corrupted by the dark forces.
“Stay with me. It’s all I ask.” You say spontaneously.
There is more to be said, he knows it. As he leans his forehead against yours, your hands holding his, he’s brought back to the days where there were just the two of you. No Jedis, no Siths. Just two children wishing to be free of such a miserable condition imposed on them.
Now you both know liberty, though, there are other chains tying you into something bigger. How to break through that?
Fuck it. He’d leave everything to be with you. Anywhere, everywhere.
“I don’t know what I would do if I was forced to let go of you. I hate the thought of losing you.”
“Then don’t.”
You pursue his lips intently. He gives in, kissing you just as fervently. It matters little to where this is going. Vader dominates you, pressing your body against the wall all the while his kisses burn you.
His hands run over the sides of your body, removing your clothes and tossing them away. You gasp at his bold moves, enjoying however the desire that burns like gasoline in you two. You too make sure to toss away his cape, his robes, your hands all too eager to have a hold onto his skin.
His eyes pursue yours all the while there’s no clothes to stand in between the consummation of your love. His smirk is malicious just as yours is. So little need there is to speak.
He pins you against the wall, lifting your legs as his hands run over your thighs before inserting two fingers right in there. His eyes all the while scan your body, admiring your curves, your hardening nipples, the flames that burn in your eyes.
It does arouse him to read your thoughts, your sentiments. He appreciates to see he is admired by you, your fingers digging into his skin, leaving marks as he overstimulates you in an almost perverted manner.
So indecent. So indecorous is how Vader reclaims you. How he holds a hand around your neck and makes you choke just…a little… bit.
It is enough to make him feel the juices running in his hand. As he removes his fingers, he licks it before kissing you hotly, his hands now running free to your sides before cupping your breasts.
“Fuck, Anakin!” You moan is crushed by his lips. It feels so good to hear the name he cut off years ago. But he feels like his old self when he’s with you.
Vader senses your hands pulling his hair, messing with his curls as he bites your neck, your shoulder, your breast. Your breath hitches, his arousal is unbearable.
Before you are even aware, Vader holds your legs tight against him and he thrusts right into you. His eyes raise to meet yours as he leaves traces of bruises in your skin. He’s marked you. You are his.
“Y/N…” he calls you by your name as he moves inside you.
“I’m yours.” Whatever pride you held yourself onto is no more. He sees love in your eyes. Damn it, Vader feels it too.
“My Queen. My Empress.”
He feels you are about come undone. Vader speeds his moves, buckling his hips against yours. He uses the force to lock your hands above your head, leaving you free to be dominated by him. Which is what you want.
“My Emperor”, you cry out. “King of my heart. Oh Ani!”
The two of you stay like this even after you come undone. Bodies locked into each other. He smirks down at you. You too smirk at him, though rather shyly. He pecks your lips, giving you a soft, slow kiss. You are now allowed to hold him. It’s an endearment gesture, filled with tenderness.
“I love you”, you are the first to say.
“I love you too.” Vader smiles.
***
Your POV.
You refuse maids to tie your hair in a regal manner. You need no one to make this moment yours and yours alone. Locking each to your side of head seems to reinforce your new status.
The gown that now slides in your body is dark as galaxy, dark as the force that has crowned you by the side of the man you love. Eagerly, possessively.
The sleeves are long, but they show your shoulders and a bit of your collarbone. There are details in the gown in blue and white, embroidering the galaxy you ought to rule.
The red lipstick is there in your full lips. There’s little other than the jewelry adorning your skin and the gown you dress that show some difference in you. You throw a vine cape over your shoulders and a hood finally eclipses your features.
The door is open. A long line of troopers awaits you. You lead them as you head to the quarters where Vader waits. To hold power like this is tempting, feels so alluring.
Darth Vader awaits his empress. There he stands until you are led to what you now recognize as the throne room. The view of many planets behind him is amazing. He did take you to see the stars.
“Empress Y/N. Come to me.”
You join him. You hold your head high and move to where he is. A smirk is almost imperceptible to your lips when you see many of the men there present bow before you.
Who could have seen that coming? Ah, if only the Jedi who left you behind could see where you are now…
You take his hand and move to his side. But there’s no evil, nothing dark in you when you look up at him and say:
“My love.”
Neither there is in his when he takes your hand to his lips and there presses a kiss.
“My darling. My empress. Together, we will rule at long last.”
“Indeed. You did bring me to the stars.”
His smile is seen. Only to you, of course.
“I did. I promised you I’d go back to you and here we are. The universe now bows to us.”
Revenge has never been so sweet…
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alltingfinns · 6 months
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TEH, part 3
I wasn’t sure how much there was left after the bonfire scene but apparently there’s about a half hour left, meaning these parts are in neat thirds.
I write as if anyone else knows what I’m talking about when these drop randomly once a year or so.
Sherlock remained more in focus from John’s perspective.
Still so cute how Sherlock immediately must hustle his parents out when his crush heterosexual former roommate shows up.
Mum putting her foot in the doorway in case there was any doubt who’s the “sherlock” of these two.
“Your parents? Your parents? Those were your parents?”
John who desperately wants to understand Sherlock. How much he would have wanted to interrogate them, I’m sure. But then he has to giggle at the absurdity of the Holmes brothers having such (seemingly) ordinary parents.
And then the hurt. “Did they know too?”
“So that’s why they weren’t at the funeral!” Because if they had been, John would have recognized them now of course. But also he probably thought they had died or something, making their existence as ordinary people even more shocking.
“Wasn’t working for me.” If Molly and John not mirrors then why this exact line. Why not “Well, everybody hated it” or “Didn’t fit me” or “Kept tickling my lips”.
Just saying. Plenty of options.
“Last night” “Too nebulous” goes on with the case.
There’s all the likelihood that, like with Sherlock’s survival, the writers just didn’t care who put John in the bonfire. They just wanted John in the bonfire. So that Sherlock could heroically rescue him.
And yes I was thinking about how this episode takes place “today” as in 5th November as in Guy Fawke’s Day. (Though the cool kids call it John Johnson’s day.)
Am I just that Johnlocked that I find it adorable that Sherlock angled the laptop so that John would see more/be more included?
Sumatra road is 28 minutes by car from Westminister. Definitely not below it. Gotta take some creative liberties for those sweet canon references.
Why hasn’t Moran just left town entirely? Oh well.
A bit of illegal breaking and entering as people walk by without giving them a second glance. That’s big cities for you.
I forgot how far they have to go through this.
Love that John got to comment on the demolition charges.
Ah, I get it! Moran still has to be in like radio range or something.
“Why do you think I know what to do?” Really, Sherlock? Really?
“And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all!” Sherlock why are you being so petty, you love him being a former soldier.
051113 is the bomb code.
I just love the line “Use your mind palace” because it makes me think of how intelligence is weirdly used as a superpower in media.
Also that you can vaguely hear Sherlock saying “off” as he’s panicking with his hands around the bomb.
John is so fucking smart but also maybe he also just has faith in Sherlock being clever enough. But anyway just cutting through the bullshit, this is a trick.
Maybe Sherlock is underhanded here. But John finds this sort of stuff difficult.
So here we get John Watson’s version of Dean Winchester’s purgatory prayer. “Of course I forgive you”
This explanation is definitely unreliable narrator. Sherlock wasn’t quite as in control as he likes to portray himself so of course he makes it out otherwise. But he’s convinced that Moriarty died but again: A. Singular. Body.
This explanation means that it was John that most importantly had to buy it. Possibly because close friend, with medical certification who Sherlock nonetheless felt he couldn’t trust the acting skills of.
I think this scene happened (more or less) and sometime after the proper end to the episode. But like even Anderson(Philip) noticed that the explanation is lacking.
Sherlock laughing like the utter little shit he is.
“There’s always an off switch.” Say that to the undefusable bomb. Although technically it did have an off switch, it was just too complicated to be tried without knowing the proper sequence.
Getting John to laugh even when he’s angry with him.
They really are the right kind of wrong for each other.
Mycroft being les miserable. XD
“Weddings. Not really my thing.”
You’re going to be planning and arranging the whole thing you miserable bastard!
A difference between Molly and John. She went for the suspiciously similar substitute, he went for (what he believed to be) the exact antithesis.
Oh my little lestrolly heart at Lestrade asking if Molly and Tom are serious. Although he is likely doing it because he is the one who would comment on the elephant.
“Real life is rarely so neat.” The goddamn bonfire.
They’re literally saying that the one true explanation for Sherlock surviving is that John asked him to.
“Time to be Sherlock Holmes.” *wears the damn hat*
Sherlock’s mind palace is certainly nicer than Magnussen’s.
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theproverbialpen · 19 days
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Musings from a Hazbin Fan and Hotel Employee
Yeah, that's right—I'm posting to this blog for the first time in years because I got into Hazbin Hotel of all things. Not only did I get into this cursed fandom, I'm writing fan fiction for it. Fan fiction. I think the last time I wrote fanfiction was...2012? 2013? And I only ever told 3 people about that one. Now here I am posting on main. The brainrot truly is unquantifiable.
If you're one of the few people that survived the purge of those I know IRL, congratulations. Please don't judge me lol. Anyways, actual musings are below the cut!
So I’m writing a fun little fanfic on AO3 and after someone left a comment (if you’re reading this, still genuinely one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me about my craft), it occured to me—as a Hazbin Hotel enjoyer, I have a pretty unique perspective on the series as an IRL hospitality professional. So! Thought it would be some cute bonus content to talk a little bit more about my life at an actual hotel and how it’s impacted my experience with Vivziepop’s hit series. 
Please note: this is written purely for shits and giggles. I don’t actually have any issues with the setting of Vivzie’s narrative or how it plays into the stories she and her team want to tell. I fucking love this show, to a potentially unhealthy degree, and I haven’t had this much fun with a series since like…okay well my hyperfixations change like every few months, but still. Point is, this isn’t actually critique, or satire, or anything with negative or critical intentions. TLDR; this post is for funsies, get off my dick.
So Who TF Am I, Anyways?
A little background on myself, for context. I’ve been employed at my hotel for almost a year now, and it’s my first hospitality job. I work in the Sales and Events department and I’ve come to learn that Group Business is actually integral for keeping a hotel up and running. When your average person (read: me before this job) thinks about hotels and traveling, you’d think it’s all about the families, bloggers, and individual travelers when it comes to guests and revenue. But in actuality, most of a hotel’s revenue—at least in the market I work in—will come from contracted room blocks and events. 
That’s where folks in my department come in. We work with clients to negotiate contracts and secure occupants for our hotel year round. Simply put, if we don’t do our jobs well, then no one else gets hours. So as much as the anti-capitalist in me will sometimes hate being a cog in the machine, it is really fulfilling to be able to help clients meet their needs while also making sure my coworkers are able to put food on the table. 
Speaking of being a cog in the machine, because of my role in Sales, this means that whenever I travel or think about hotels, I’m always thinking about the revenue side of things. I also work more with the Events team, so operations are also on the forefront of my mind. Which leads me to my principal quandary for this little blog post:
How in the Hell does the Hazbin Operate?
I have a laundry list of questions. A laundry list that’s almost as big as the actual pile of dirty laundry that is currently plaguing my bedroom floor. I will summarize (which is a generous word given how fucking verbose I can be) below:
Issue #1: Revenue Generation
Okay listen, I know Charlie is the Princess of Hell. I know she probably has unlimited capital, whatever that looks like in the HelluVerse. And I know the Hazbin is literally there to help rehabilitate people so charging them to stay would be counterproductive.
But my dude…do you understand how much money would be needed to run an operation of this scale?
At the end of Season 1, the new Hazbin is huge. Like it easily looks as big, if not bigger, than the hotel I work at which has nearly 500 rooms. Do you know how much revenue our team has to generate to keep this place running? Do you know how many millions our target goal is set at for each quarter? How many hundreds of thousands my coworkers’ individual quotas are set to? And sunshine in a bottle over here doesn’t charge her residents anything????? 
How does she get all those decorations? How does she order food or inventory? We know Hell has an economy, like Angel literally says he needs to save money for drugs in his first appearance. Is she…does she even pay her staff???
It is utterly appalling that Charlie is able to operate a hotel of this scale, both because of how it doesn’t make sense from a business perspective and because there are IRL billionaires that could probably do the same thing and solve homelessness overnight. 
Speaking of scale:
Issue #2: The Hazbin’s Systems, Or Lack Thereof
Okay so, yes, there’s only like…one official resident of the hotel, maybe two if Cherri moves in and doesn’t become a staff member (RIP Pentious, you would have loved living with Cherri Bomb). With the staff the way it is, that’s a solid 5:1 ratio, which is beyond ideal. But—and I touch on this in the fic—I feel I must reiterate: the new Hazbin is fucking massive. And you know what that means? It’s going to be able to hold a lot of guests. Guests that will need staff to take care of them. Let’s review:
Charlie is the owner and mostly teaches classes. Vaggie is the co-owner and kind of acts as the Executive Assistant to Charlie’s General Manager. I guess Alastor is the Hotel Manager? I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea what he does, but generally speaking he’s supposed to be the jack of all trades and manage the rest of the staff. Niffty handles Housekeeping and I guess would be the director of that. Husk is the bartender but like canonically only really eats pub food so he definitely can’t be the Food & Beverage head. 
Let’s say we scrap the Sales and Revenue Departments because clearly they don’t need income, but we keep a Marketing position so that Charlie can get the word out about the hotel. That leaves us with the need for Engineering, Front Desk, Rooms, and F&B staff. And like, not just one person—that would fucking suck—but proper staff. And given their track record of organization and managing the hotel…let’s just say, I would not be applying to the Hazbin Hotel anytime soon. Honestly, it sounds like that job would qualify to be the new tenth circle of Hell. 
What Does the Hazbin Get Right About IRL Hospitality?
So yes, clearly the world of the Hazbin Hotel leans towards the more fanciful—it is a story about Hell after all. However, there have been some moments that have made me chuckle as a hotel employee, things that are relatable for us in the hospitality world. Allow me to highlight them for you below:
Everyone is Bat Shit Crazy
Hospitality professionals are weird. So weird. Before I started my job, I was terrified of the level of professionality I would need to have. When I first got hired, I was given a whole packet on dress code and appropriate conduct. As you can probably tell from my writing style, this was concerning: I can be professional when I need to be, but I cannot maintain that guise for extended periods of time. Call it my toxic trait.
I also already had this impression of poised and put-together hotel staff from my previous experiences with travel. All the Front Desk agents would be in these clean and wrinkle-free clothes with kind yet business-forward attitudes, office workers would be walking around in full suits, and occasionally you’d see the hotel management on the floor if you were looking. Let me tell you now—it is a facade. An act. An incredible stage production unfolding in real time where all the staff do their absolute damndest to make you feel like you are in an organized and professional institution. Not unlike a certain hit animated musical.
My direct supervisor, the literal Director of Catering and Events, once told me that being a liiiiiittle crazy was a prerequisite for working in our department during the hiring process for a new Sales Manager. She was wrong—the prerequisite is not “a little” crazy. The prerequisite is being bat shit insane. And it’s not just our department, oh noooOoooOo, it is every department. Downstairs in our little basement dungeon, we make out of pocket comments, scream at random intervals, and swear way more than we should (that one might be my fault…according to my partner I swear more at work than at home and apparently it’s rubbing off on my colleagues), but that behavior is in no way restricted to just the Sales Team. 
I process the checks that are sent to our property and our Director of Rooms makes me say “can I get a WITNESSSS” before she signs off on the drop log (Charlie-core). If I don’t say it high pitched enough or with enough vigor, she makes me do it again. I once watched a guy in Engineering climb a tall step ladder balanced with two legs on a platform and a third leg balanced on a wooden plank his coworker was holding steady. The fourth leg was over the open air. Let me reiterate: the open. Fucking. Air. Tell me you can’t see Angel Dust and Cherri doing that shit.
Speaking of Engineering, you wanna know what dumbass thing happened just this morning? The Regional Director of the department—regional meaning he manages teams all across our area, like top level type shit—told us about this cursed ass Instagram trend he found where allegedly, putting ketchup on a Kit Kat tasted like fudge. So right there and then, him, myself, and two other coworkers decided ‘why the fuck not?’:
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I would never seek it out willingly again, but I honestly didn’t hate it. 
The point of all of this is to say—the antics the Hazbin crew get up to? Totally realistic. I could see my coworker Robert throwing me into an active battlefield against my will. We have deadass done the role playing thing Angel and Pentious did during our trainings, and it was just as unhinged. Every day some shit happens at this hotel and I’m just like, “Yup. That could happen in Hazbin.”
“Call Now! Or Don’t! I Don’t Care! We Still Don’t Have a Working Phone!”
I would like to preface this section by saying: if you happen to be a Front Desk associate, I’m sorry. This is not directed at you, this is directed at your managers and their communication skills that may or may not exist. If you are somehow a manager reading this, uh—first of all, cringe. Second of all, I hope these next few paragraphs don’t apply to you. If they do and you’re offended: that’s a certified you-problem, babes. 
There are three certainties in this life: death, taxes, and miscommunication from your fucking managers. Tell me why in this past week alone I have been in 5 different email threads regarding fuck-ups and complaints from guests about things that we had clearly communicated. Tell me why in these email threads, people were attempting to throw me under the bus or shift the blame to my team. Tell me why I have gone to every single individual office in my department complaining about this. Tell me why this isn’t the first time this has happened.
Another hotel tidbit: across the board, Q1 (Jan-Mar) is supposed to be slow, for all of hospitality. It’s the time to get the metaphorical phone lines working, ya know? Our Q1 was stupidly busy, so I get it, people were slammed and short staffed. But like… we had time. Time to iron out our communication, time to create systems and processes that would ensure we’d be all set when things got busier. Yet here I am at the start of Q2 with an entire fist shoved up my ass being puppeted around to fix other people’s mistakes. 
It’s times like these when I go back to rewatch Hazbin for the like 26th time and I watch Charlie and Alastor run the hotel and I’m just like “whyyYyYyYyYyYy”. Like I KNOW Vaggie has had days where she’s like, “what…what am I supposed to be doing right now? Like what is my job, what… What?” 
It’s not just Front Desk either. It’s every department, even my own bosses. Like the call is coming from inside the house, sweetie, why did you tell this Sales Manager that I was taking care of all her commissions but you didn’t tell me this. Why am I blocking a room for an Orientation the following Monday at fucking 5:45 PM on a Friday. Why am I JUST finding out about a VIP guest when I have been asking you if you had any notes for me for the whole week.
I touch on it in my fic as well but like…pretty sure Charlie just, decides to host her classes day of. And that drives me insane. Like I…there are processes. Things that need to be done so that everyone is on the same page. You don’t just wing this shit, that’s how you end up with Susan calling your Director to tell her that you’re a useless waste of space not even deserving of the air in your lungs because you didn’t give her her fucking breakfast voucher. 
As a character, I love Alastor. If I were ever in the same room as him, I’d probably hate him. But if there’s anything relatable about that Geneva Convention Violation on Legs it’s his absolutely done attitude in Episode 1’s opening commercial.
Charlie Loves Helping People, and So Do We!
Alright, I’ve complained for enough paragraphs, let’s be positive for a second. The thing that is by far the most true to life in Hazbin Hotel is how much joy Charlie gets from taking care of her guests. Like…that’s our bread and butter in the hospitality world. Well, maybe just the butter; we need that bread in the form of cold hard cash (or direct deposits, whatever works best). But as much as I will bitch and moan about the difficulties of working in a hotel, there’s nothing quite as fulfilling as a guest telling you that you made their entire trip better. The butterflies I get reading reviews where my coworkers are mentioned by name and a guest writes about how we completely turned around their bad day are an absolute delight. It just means the world knowing that you can have that kind of impact on someone, even if it’s just in the little things.
In Episode 2, when Charlie and the crew are welcoming Sir Pentious and she just starts vibrating with excitement is exactly how I feel when I get to meet a client that we’ve been working with for months and finally welcome them to our property. When they sing “It Starts With Sorry” and just get to have a moment of empathy and compassion together, it reminds me of the clients and the phone calls I take where I get to ask them about their goals and help them feel like they’re supported and heard. In the grand scheme of things, is a nice phone call or interaction with some hotel employee going to change your life? Probably not. But for those few moments when their burdens seem lighter is why I love my job.
This goes for guests, and for my fellow coworkers. I’ve been very blessed to start my hospitality career in an unusually supportive work culture. Yeah, we can be some right petty bitches sometimes, but overall everyone is so encouraging and so quick to help lighten each other’s loads. Like in Episode 5 (best episode btw, for obvious reasons) when all the Hazbin Crew are working together to prepare the hotel for Lucifer’s arrival, that shit made me so giddy cause like- that’s us! Look at us go! We workin together so hard, we’re so cute! Like when Niffty and Pentious are baking and she looks up at him all excited n’ shit—that’s literally been me working with our Director of Restaurants on new food menus or promotional material. 
There’s something about being in an occupation where your whole purpose is to take care of people that really brings out the selflessness in you, and I think that’s what makes the hotel such a great setting for Charlie’s mission of redemption. I didn’t realize that until writing this paragraph tbh, but yeah, it just kinda…works. When your job is to make sure other people have a good time and feel supported and you’re surrounded by people that make you feel the same way, it’s a lot easier to want to choose to do good, to do right by the people around you. So as much as I have some silly little nitpicks…yeah, I can admit—I love that this show is about the Hazbin Hotel specifically.
Anyways, if you made it this far, thanks for reading! Next update for Life is In Redemption will be out in the days to come, just thought this would be a fun addition while I work on some of the content with my friends. This upcoming chapter is going to have a co-author, so get hyyyyyped :)
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