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#but the point is i feel like thomas isn't saying anything in the hopes of not addressing it?
rosesradio · 1 year
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does anyone want to make like a petition or something for thomas to donate at least part of the ad revenue on his sorting video to a trans charity? or at least put some kind of disclaimer in the video or in the description stating that he doesn’t support jkr, and maybe link some resources and/or charities to encourage donations? idk, it just sits weirdly with me that, upon checking the video a minute ago, there’s no alterations to how it was originally posted to address the bigotry of that franchise.
(especially considering he bought a bunch of merch for the video, which he makes a joke about, potentially encouraging his viewers to sort & buy merch for their houses as well)
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mayfieldss · 4 months
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Point blank - Thomas Shelby
Summary: When you are held at gunpoint by one of Tommy's many enemies, he must come to terms with his feelings.
Warnings: being held at gunpoint (obvi), blood, violence, language, suggestive content. Not spell checked at all so beware.
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The cool metal against the side of your skull wasn't exactly the feeling you had hoped for as the night dragged on. You'd thought about many things, and many people that could bring you pleasure and fun, and you'd thought of a warm bed you would love to curl up in when it got too late to stay awake. But this, the gun pressed firmly to your head, had not been one of the sensations you'd hoped for.
"Call him outside," the man holding the gun shouted to a maid who had stumbled upon the scene. She'd clearly stepped out of the Shelby estate in the hopes of a smoke break, as had you, but was met with a more than shocking ordeal. Tommy's side piece, as many had called you, held at gunpoint by an angry stranger.
She ran ahead inside, and you knew Tommy would be out in a matter of minutes. This was a regular sunday for him. For you, though, it was not something you wanted to occur at all, let alone more than once.
"Mathison," Tommy calls, accent thick as a small fog accompanies his words. The night is cold, and everyone that dares speak becomes a dragon. "I doubt this is nessacary." His hands are raised in a disarming gesture, but you know Tommy well enough. In his eyes, there's concern, worry, and that does not at all ease your nerves.
"You said you'd pay me, give me the money for my family, Tommy, you promised." The man that stands behind you grips tighter to your body, your back flush to his chest as the barrel of the gun digs into your skin.
"You'll get your money in good time, I'm an honest man, Mathison, now let the lady go free." He spares a glance to you, and you can tell he wished he hadn't as soon as it happens. His eyes darken as though he won't be able to scrub the memory free of his mind. Not that you matter that much to be remembered. Not to someone like Tommy. You were just a woman he met in dark corners, after all.
"I want the money now!" The mans shout beside your ear makes you flinch, and the gun shakes in his hands. "It's been weeks, and I want what I was promised!" The man is not at all stable, and with his finger so close to the trigger, you aren't confident in your survival rate.
"Tommy, give him the money. Please." You shouldn't speak. It could earn you a number of consequences, but the fear is stronger than rational thought.
Perhaps the same goes for Tommy because you swear you see him think it over. He flexs his hand at his side, trying to stretch out the tension writhing within him. He is a man of business, not of love, and time and time again that four letter word has ruined him. But seeing you, under threat of harm, stirs a particular amount of concern.
"I don't take kindly to threats against my family. And it looks as though you may be threatening me? Am I correct?"
The man behind you doesn't say anything. His hand still shakes and his grip on you is painful, but he knows that to say yes is to mean consequence, and to say no, would be to lie to Thomas Shelby, which won't end well either.
"Right. Well, I'm having a fucking party inside, one that I would be hosting if I wasn't needed to deal to this. I think the best course of action is for you to put the gun down and leave the premises. You will get your money tomorrow, Mr Mathison." His words sound so final. You can almost believe the man that has a hold of you will listen. Perhaps he is listening because slowly, the gun isn't as close to you anymore.
The gunshot is loud, deafening, and your ears ring with the sound of it. You would have thought that was because you were bleeding out, were it not for the loud scream that fell from your lips at the same time as the sound. If you had, in fact, been shot point blank in the head, you would not have time to scream.
The man that once had a hold of you tumbles backward, and you, in shock, fall to your knees in relief, as well as an attempt to lower the chances of being hit by another stray bullet.
Your first mistake was to look back, eyes locking on the blood pooling around the now fallen mans head. You could have been in the same position just moments before.
"Look at me." Tommy's hands come to grasp the sides of your face, not giving you a choice in the matter. He's on his knees in front of you, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. "Are you alright?"
You nod, squeezing your eyes shut despite his order, and begin to cry. It's embarrassing to do so, but there's is no way you couldn't bring yourself to. Tommy pulls you into his chest, and despite how mad at him you are, you let him.
His heart races as the sound of the gunshot echoes in his own mind, and the feeling of your heavy breaths taken between sobs while devastating, is the most reassuring action in the moment. You're breathing, which means he's kept you safe for now.
-
Later that night, you are sat on the edge of Tommy's bed, still reeling from the nights events. He'd left you in order to send the party guests away and had only just returned.
"I lied before." You mumble as he enters the room, shutting the door behind him. "I'm not alright."
Looking at him fills you with the deepest anger, how he can stand there, and undo his tie with hands that don't so much as quiver.
"You are a dangerous man, Thomas. I could have died tonight, all because I was foolish enough to get in your bed."
Tommy nods, and you hate the minimal response. "I wasn't going to let him shoot you."
"He could've shot me whether you let him or not!" Your voice is raising even as you don't want it to. He's too calm in the face of this, and that says all it needs to. "We're done, Tommy."
You stand to leave, ignoring the way your muscles feel, still tense even after the ordeal is over. The door is one step away by the time Tommy decides to speak again, but you're already in the hall before he can make a point.
"I did what I had to do to keep you safe." He's followed you out, looking more disheveled now with his tie long gone and shirt half unbuttoned.
"Am I safe with you, Tommy? Because it doesn't feel like it." You're unable to face him, eyes locked on the staircase you so desperately want to run down.
"I can't promise peace if that's what you're askin', but I won't let anyone hurt you. Not as long as I'm alive." His hand on your shoulder is what makes you turn, and you stare him down with what courage you have left.
"Do you love me, Thomas Shelby? Because if you don't, I can't understand why I'd be worth the trouble." It's more of a dare than a question because you're sure he'll say no. And once he says it, you'll have more than enough reason to leave him and never return.
Tommy exhales harshly, and you can smell the cigarettes on his breath, mixed with whiskey from the party. It's not a unique scent among men you've met, but somehow, on Tommy, it's more of an indulgence.
"I thought you knew that already." He mutters, lips closer to yours than they were before. "But I'm sure I can clarify a few things." His hands fall to your waist, a daring gesture but one that isn't uncommon for the both of you before his lips are on yours. Your anger is forced out of you in the form of a kiss, one that is messy and desperate in a way you've only known with Tommy. His breath mixes with yours as do other elements of him, until finally you push him away.
"I'm not forcing you to say it, Thomas. But for fucks sake tell me straight. Do you or do you not love me?"
Tommy grunts in frustration, running a hand over his face. He's an honest man in his own opinion, and he wants to be honest with you, but in doing so he has to do the same for himself. That's harder than most things Tommy does for a living.
"Love is more dangerous than I am, sweetheart. And believe me, my love isn't something you want."
"Yes or no, Tommy." You've pushed back every tear within you and stand like a soldier before him, ready to march away. He clears his throat, loud in the silent hallway.
"Yes. Yes, I fucking love you. now can we please go back to bed?"
You don't answer, but simply wander past him to his room. It's dimly lit, and the sheets look more than inviting after the day you've had. You turn back to him once inside, catching his eyes on your figure.
"I love you too, Tommy."
Slowly, a smile creeps onto his lips, and his eyes cloud over with a look you know too well. "Let's go to bed."
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GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu
PEAKY BLINDERS TAGLIST:
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amomentsescape · 3 months
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The shirt headcannon was great, but what if the slashers had matching shirts with their S/O reader? Also if ya in one of the snowy storm states stay safe! ❄ 🧊 ⛸
Slashers React to Couple's T-Shirts
Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Feat. Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, & Stu
You can find the OG T-Shirt request here.
A/N: Such a cute request! And yes, those dealing with the crazy weather, please stay safe! (Also, I couldn't find a better GIF option so I just went with the same one again)
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Freddy Krueger
Yep, he wears it over his sweater
Can you expect anything less from Freddy though?
He really enjoys matching with you
He even let out some chuckles when you showed them to him for the first time
"I'm gonna need to make myself a closet if you keep up with this"
He definitely finds the shirts a tad bit cheesy, but he's not complaining
He happily wears the shirt with pride
He becomes a bit upset if you show up not wearing it though
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Michael Myers
What even is this?
The first shirt was already bad enough, but this?
He doesn't even like cats
Just gives you a deadpan look
Will let you put yours on, but absolutely refuses to wear his
Barely even wants to touch it to be honest
You quite literally have to force it over his head
And even then, he just complains the whole time
Embrace the moment while you have it, because there's absolutely no way you're going to get that shirt on him again
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Jason Voorhees
He smiles wide at these
One of the things he loves is the size difference between you two
It makes him feel like a protector
So you gifting him MATCHING shirts just makes him feel all giddy inside
The fact that they point out the size difference is a plus
He arguably likes this one more than the last (since he actually understands what it means)
He only wears the shirt when you wear yours though
If your washing it or don't have it on, don't expect Jason to be wearing his
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Thomas Hewitt
Thomas absolutely fell in love with Beauty and the Beast when you first showed it to him
He didn't think he'd ever find someone like you, but here you were, and that made him relate to the Beast quite a bit
So when you showed him these, he was ecstatic
Immediately puts it on and refuses to take it off for a couple days
Even in the blistering heat of Texas, he wears it
Will always give you a hug when he sees you wearing yours
By the end of the week however, his shirt is noticeably much dirtier than yours
They barely match anymore, but the meaning is still there
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Bubba Sawyer
Bubba is all giddy when he sees these
He just thinks the dinosaurs are absolutely adorable
And he honestly gets the joke pretty quickly!
Will insist you both put them on at the exact same time, doing a little spin for each other
He's clapping his hands and bouncing up and down
Will become pretty protective of the garment though
If anyone besides you gets a little too close to him, he puts his arms out as if saying "don't touch the shirt"
He truly finds the shirts a symbol of your relationship, so if any stain or tear occurs, he will literally have a meltdown
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Brahms Heelshire
He doesn't find them as funny as you do
But he likes the idea of you matching together, so he allows it
Will try to put your shirt on instead in hopes you don't notice
You do
He thinks you look cute, but he won't admit it
He's still mad that you think you're the boss
I mean, who makes the literal rules around here??
But the moment you baby him and tell him just how good the shirt looks on him, he gives in and accepts his fate
He does wear the cardigan over it, however
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Norman Bates
You know Norman isn't one for loud garments
So you thought something simplistic and meaningful would be the best bet
When he first sees the shirts, he smiles and says they look extra comfy for you two
But when he sees your anniversary on the sleeves, he melts
Thinks it's super romantic and gives you a sweet kiss as a thank you
He wears the shirt all the time
Under his button ups, going to bed, lounging around
And you can tell he becomes extra happy when you have yours on too
It's just like having a cute reminder of your love for each other
And Norman is all about that
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Billy Loomis
Billy had been talking about getting a new sweatshirt for forever now
So when you came across these, you knew you had to get them
Billy isn't usually one for cheesy things, but he can't stop the small smile that forms on his face
"You're a lifesaver, babe"
Will try it on and practically melt into it
Doesn't specifically ask, but he'll give you a look basically telling you to put yours on too
When he sees you both matching, he can't even lie that he likes it
Will snuggle up with you and thank you
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Stu Macher
Stu immediately lets out a big laugh when he sees them
His amusement is quickly deflated when he fully reads the shirts
"Hey!"
You know he's just joking though, since he still has that huge grin on his face
"You're clearly the stupid one, right?"
You just give him a joking slap to the arm
Will make you put yours on with him and pulls out his camera
Takes a million pictures with you and the shirts, finding them hilarious
He definitely insists on wearing them in public since it makes it even more obvious that you're his
He just doesn't want to wear them around Billy
He'll make fun of him
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beauty-and-passion · 4 months
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No pressure as always, but I’m curious if you saw Thomas’ Year in Review. He talks a lot about his struggles with Sanders Sides and why the creative process has taken so long (at least, he gives his own take on the situation.)
If you saw it, I’m very curious about your thoughts! Because I honestly don’t believe that this video discredits any criticism, especially your criticism, but I’m curious if any of your opinions changed after watching it regardless. And no judgement either way, I just love hearing your thoughts ^.^
My dear, it's always a pleasure to reply to your asks! It might take me some time, but in the end, the answer will always come.
Thank you very much for telling me about the video because, if it wasn't for you, I would've probably never watched it and missed out a lot. Extra kudos for that.
So I watched it. And I read your post about it too (HERE because more people need to read it): it was very well made and I agree with you wholeheartedly.
However, I also took a lot of notes while watching Mr Sanders' video and there are a lot of other things I want to say in addition to the ones you already said. So I will gladly expand my thoughts and feelings here.
(It might be longer than expected, so I'll put it under a "read more")
Accepting criticism
Thomas admitted he easily internalizes negative criticism
He said that people are allowed to write everything/to criticize and that he doesn't want others to get mad over SaSi criticism
First of all, I am proud of him for showing this self-awareness. From what I saw of him, Thomas looks like a very prideful person, so it probably took him a lot of time and courage to admit his faulty behaviour.
But in the end, he did it. He showed some of the maturity I've always wanted to see coming from him and he deserves recognition for that: good job, Thomas. I know it wasn't easy because it sucks to admit we're not good at something, but it was a great proof of adulthood coming from you.
However, I would like to point out that he doesn't internalize just negative criticism. What the ts critics noticed (and you can find several proofs in the #ts_criticism tag), is that Thomas tends to reply with a lot of passive-aggressiveness not just to people offending him, but also to simple and harmless questions like "Hey, where is the SaSi finale?". Which are not negative, not criticism and even less negative criticism.
So it's not that he just internalizes bad criticism: he internalizes every single question regarding the SaSi finale which is not a compliment towards him or a "take your time, bro". And he internalizes it as something bad, which is not great, nor fair.
With this video, he took a step in the right direction and showed some self-awareness, which is very good. But now he needs to learn how to distinguish between different kinds of criticism - as well as recognizing that asking him questions isn’t criticism. It’s just asking questions.
(I also hope that some people won’t follow his mentality of “saying anything that isn’t a compliment = criticism”, because this can lead to a dangerous, distorted vision of the world.)
And since we’re talking about criticism, I wish that by saying "please do not get angry over criticism" Thomas finally put an end to the stupid idea that “people are not allowed to criticize”.
I know some people don't like to hear this, but criticism is inherent to the nature of every single work. Everything that exists in this world is allowed to be criticized. Heck, it's exactly because these creations are criticized, that they exist. Do you know what work isn't criticized? The one people don't talk about.
And no, despite what the opposers of criticism think, when people criticize something it's not because they hate the product: it's because they care a lot about said product. It's because they saw something good in it and they're disappointed the product wasn't as good as it promised. It's because they are so invested, that every mistake frustrates them.
In the end, it's not criticism that kills a product: it's indifference. It's not talking about it anymore. When you don't care, the product is dead.
So the opponents of criticism should be happy people are talking about SaSi with such passion, throwing ideas, suggestions and calling Thomas out. It's because, despite the empty promises, they still give a fuck about this project and want to see it succeed.
Maybe, thanks to Thomas' works, more people will not ban every criticism as "bad" Because Yes. Heck, they might even read a couple of posts and find out that the criticism tag isn't made of hateful people: just of people who care like them.
And maybe this will also discourage pathetic losers like the anon @softestvirgil mentioned in their last post. An anon who is so strong and brave, to say they would hire a hitman to kill another person just because they criticize something the anon likes. Very mature, very clever and very bold, coming from a coward who doesn't even have the balls to show their face, while saying this.
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The difficulty of writing
Thomas said he got overwhelmed by the public's reaction to SaSi "in the most wonderful and intimidating way"
When Joan left, Thomas felt the overwhelming weight of the series all on himself. He couldn't see himself doing SaSi without Joan
Roleslaying was a breath of fresh air, since it was a series with no stakes
Thomas realized he was doing his best with videos that didn't require him to write
Thomas said there have been moments when he despised everything he was writing. He spent whole days on a single interaction between two characters, only to hate everything and wonder how Joan would write them/what the viewers would think.
As always, I am a prophet. What did I say in these last years?
Thomas doesn't know how to handle this series? He admitted he couldn't see himself doing it without Joan.
Thomas prefers Roleslaying and shorter, more carefree videos because they're easier and they don't require him to write? He admitted he did his best with videos that didn't require him to write.
Thomas isn't able to write the series? He had struggles and hated what he was writing.
So, what was the result, if not Thomas postponing and focusing on other projects - thus ending up with characterization errors, mistakes and things he completely forgot? Just like I said?
But even if I'm right, I am glad Thomas FINALLY talked about it. One thing is deduce what's going on, one thing is the author himself admitting it.
So yes, I really, really appreciate him doing it. Again, it was probably very hard for him to say it out loud, but he did and deserves recognition for that.
I particularly felt for him, when he said he spent days on a single interaction, only to hate everything he was writing. I empathize with him a lot because that's exactly what I felt while writing the prologue of my story, multiple times. I spent days writing the same two paragraphs, over and over, trying to find the right way to do it, the right rhythm, the right words. And I ended up deleting everything, only to start again and try again and delete everything again, over and over in a neverending loop.
I know it must've been hard for Thomas, because it is hard. Because you feel like shit. Because you ask yourself how can you not write this right, what are you doing wrong? Maybe you did everything wrong from the start, maybe the entire thing is wrong, maybe you're just too stupid to do it - and you see other stories and other writings and they're all so good and you suck so much and you feel like an even bigger loser.
And now you may ask: how can you break this loop? How can you move forward?
We will talk about Thomas' solution in a bit.
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The lack of an outline
Thomas admitted he lost connection with his characters
He said he was feeling bad for letting people down
He said he's writing the outline of the season finale by referring to notes left by Joan
He finished 3 drafts out of 4 parts. And they're still reviewed
Wow, it looks like the lack of a proper, full outline leads to characterization errors, forgetting things and taking a lot of time. Jeez, I wonder who said all of this since like, idk, forever?
As I imagined, there is still no outline at all and Thomas isn't even working on a full outline for season 3: he's working on an outline for the season 2 finale. Which means season 3 is still stuck in a limbo.
And yes, I know they're not great news, but at least they're real news. Real fucking news about the finale, not just "finished draft 3" or "worked for 8 hours" or "it will come out this year maybe yes maybe not". We finally have real news and we know how much Thomas did and what he's currently working on and how much is still left to do. So, again, he deserves recognition for finally talking about it.
Does that mean the writing is good now? Heck no, this isn't a proper way to write and my previous post still stands: the writing is still taking too long, the lack of an outline is still a problem, part 4 and the review will probably take another two years minimum and a competent writer would've helped A LOT to make the writing smoother and faster.
However, I better understand now why Thomas didn't hire one: he probably wanted to do everything by himself to not disappoint everyone and was too prideful to ask for help - considering he didn't tell anyone about his struggles either.
But what did it lead to? The outline is still missing (with all the expected consequences) and Thomas suffered for the huge weight of expectation he put on himself.
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The importance of not escaping criticism
Thomas' resolutions for this year are:
to be more open and honest about his struggles
to stay away from criticism (he doesn't even want to be tagged in it)
Those are great resolutions, especially the first one. Considering he kept everything by himself and didn't tell anyone about his struggles, being more open and honest about them is a very good decision.
And staying away from negative criticism is good too, considering that 1) it's good for mental health in general and 2) he just admitted he internalizes criticism, so staying away from it can only be helpful.
However, as said before, Thomas sees as “negative criticism" everything, including people asking him about the finale. So if he escapes from all kinds of criticism, he will also escape from harmless fans who just want an update from him.
Besides, it’s never good to escape from all kinds of criticism. Criticism is essential for writing, especially constructive criticism. Sure, you might find the 12-year-old who says "You stink and your work sucks because my headcanon is not here!", but you may also find the expert who will explain some technicalities of writing. Or just someone who can offer a deeper insight into a character. Or just an interesting idea to develop into a plot point.
Also, considering how Thomas tends to label every little critic as "negative", people who want to show their love might end up feeling "forced" to use just compliments, in hopes that Thomas will notice them/know they love SaSi. Which isn’t good either, because... well, people would be forced to censor themselves and suffocate their rightful questions just to make him happy.
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How to escape the neverending loop of hate-writing
Thomas said he wants to rediscover his joy in writing by working on more Asides/other projects to "stretch his brain"
He also expressed his love for short-form creation
Thomas' solution is a good one. Doing other things, focusing on other stuff, letting SaSi in the back to write different stories: this is all good and valid, I’m sure it will help Thomas’ mental health a lot.
However, writing small stuff with no stakes is also what Thomas wrote for most of his life. So by doing that, he basically reverts to something he’s already used to. And of course he loves it, it’s his comfort zone: it’s very understandable he feels at ease inside it.
Still, this is not a bad thing: it’s good to do it once in a while and it's even necessary for your wellbeing. But you can understand by yourself that this doesn’t help solve the problem. This just postpones the problem. Maybe it won’t come back now, maybe not today or tomorrow or during the season 2 finale. But the problem will eventually come back.
Why? Because SaSi still lacks an outline. Because the story should still move in a more mature, complex direction. Because there are still a lot of threads to develop and close. Because the characters still need mature development.
How do I think Thomas can solve the problem? Sure, detaching himself from it is good for a while, but he cannot do just that and escape into his comfort zone. He needs to face the problem and he can do it only by learning how to write.
And if it’s hard to do (because it is), then the best solution would be to hire a competent writer. Not because the writer will replace him, not at all. The writer will help Thomas to learn and understand the technicalities of writing especially for a project as big as SaSi: like how to develop an outline, how to connect all threads, how to move from a simple to a more complex plot, how to keep a continuative plot throughout several episodes without destroying the stakes. The writer will be an assistant for the writing of SaSi and a teacher from whom Thomas can learn everything he needs.
So, if Thomas really wants to give himself some grace this year as he said, I suggest he shares his writing responsibilities with someone competent and bias-free. A real writer from whom he can learn not just for SaSi, but for his future projects too. Not only this will benefit him in the long run, but it will also give him a more humble and mature approach to writing in general, by recognizing and accepting his limits and doing actual work to improve himself.
But this is just my suggestion. If he wants, Thomas can keep doing what he’s doing now, i.e. working on smaller stuff into his comfort zone and stepping out a little bit when he feels more confident.
Again, this isn’t a bad solution, but the problem is that it takes a lot of time. But, like, A LOT. You need to regain confidence from inside your comfort zone, then step out again to face a bigger problem - a problem you still don’t know how to face, because you don’t know how to write and you don’t even have an outline or a plan to tackle it. And what if you lose confidence again? Will you come back into your comfort zone and wait again to gain enough confidence to step out once more?
I know you will never read this post, Thomas, but let me tell you this: I also lost the spark with my characters several times in the past. The first time, it was because I still didn’t know how to write, so I was frustrated by the writing itself and how everything was dull. Then I lost my spark because the plot kept getting stuck and I had no idea how to improve it.
Both times, I left the project in the back and focused on other smaller stories, smaller projects and books to read.
After the first time, it took me a couple of years to get back on this project. But do you know how long it took me the second time? This year, it will be 8 years. The last time I wrote that project was 2016. And only now, after 8 years, I think I found the solution I was searching for.I could do that, because I never showed this story to anyone. It has always been my personal, secret project. But can you do the same? Can you really afford to spend 8+ years, doing everything by yourself? As I said in my previous post, unfortunately Sanders Sides has your face. And you cannot revert the biological clock forever.
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In conclusion
Do I appreciate Thomas a little more after this video? Definitely. He still didn't apologize for his lack of organization and his take on criticism is a bit questionable, but he's improving. He showed more maturity than he did in the past three years and I appreciate that. He has my respect for doing it, for admitting his mistakes and for opening up.
Does that mean he can take forever for the finale? Heck no. I still want to see the finale before the end of time and I still want to get more frequent, honest updates coming from him. And, no that doesn’t mean he has to do 20-minute-long videos every time: even just a simple, clear tweet is enough. Just to let us know how the work is going.
I also hope he will develop better communication with his team, improve the organization and, most importantly, hire a competent writer from whom he can learn more about writing in general (and regarding SaSi).
While for the fandom, I wish we would be nicer too. It doesn't make sense for us to fight over a simple series, when there are bigger problems out there. Let's enjoy our time together instead, let's criticize if we want to, let's do fanart and write fanfictions and let's fight over silly stuff only, like which ship is the best and which Orange is the best Orange. Even if the second doesn’t even need a debate, because we all know pirate!Orange is the best ;P
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HELLO
ok so basically, and, Im sorry if some of these slashers arent those you write for. But Michael, Hannibal, Thomas, and Brahms with a filipino s/o who LOVES baking them treats from their country? I think this is esp interesting with Hannibal since the guy is used to european cuisine and probably hasnt tried anything southeast asian. To make your job easier Im giving you a list of pinoy pastries;
bibingka, cassava cake((highly recommend this to you)), pan de coco, pandan cakes((Pandan is a lovely flavor and I highly recommend)), leche flan, and taho ^^ Hope you enjoy this ask sshahs Sorry if its long :,,))
Slashers x Filipino!Reader who bakes
Notes: I am so sorry for taking so long. I literally say this for every ask, but holy shit this took me so long to get to. I've had cassava cake before, and it's sooooo good. Hope you enjoy.
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Michael Myers vs Bibingka
You should know by now that Michael has a huge sweet tooth, and if you don't... what are you even doing
Anything that isn't sweet enough is automatically ruled out, so when he sees you using rice to cook desert, he refuses to eat
You had to explain to him that bibingka was sweet, with banana leaves, coconut milk and plenty of sugar, but he refused
Although Michael was raised outside of social norms, he learned enough before being admitted sanitarium to know what foods are and aren't sweet, and rice isn't sweet
Your best bet is to bake it when Michael is out the house and serve it to him when he gets home
When he does eat it, he falls in love
With it, not you. Duh, Y/N
He'd want to watch you bake all the time after eating it and would probably never leave you alone until you bake what he wants
You're sweating nervously when he asks you to bake him bibingka again, fully aware of how upset he'll be if he finds out that there's rice in it
Que 'accidently' falling asleep
Hannibal Lecter vs Pandan Cake
Whether you like it or not, he will try to criticize
He likes to cook more than he likes to bake, but he has enough knowledge about it know what you did right and wrong (mostly he likes to point out the wrong though)
He's tried your cooking and baking before and he admits it's pretty good, but he's never tried any dishes from the Philippines
A petty part of him is a bit jealous of your wider pallet of foods in your knowledge, but he was better than letting that known
He'd never seen you so happy when he asked you to cook something from the Philippines
You decided to bake him pandan cake, a simple, sponge-like cake with a unique taste
He wasn't very impressed with the presentation, and he made that pretty clear with the barely audible 'tsk'
He was surprised to see the green interior, and the smell was mouth-salvating
The moment he tasted it, he wanted to take back all the petty comments he said about your baking (albeit inside his head)
This would probably be the only time he'd compliment you, never having tasted something so sweet and soft
He'd say something simple like 'It's amazing darling,' but he wanted to say so much more. Too bad he's too prideful
That being said, he would wait for the day you bake again with eagerness
Brahms Heelshire vs Taho
Petty
So damn petty
"Ew, what's that."
It's not even a question, just a clarification of his disgust
British boy does not like something flavorful (not surprising)
He didn't even try it
Even when you looked really sad
You tried to get him to at least try it, but he was hard-set on not going near it
When you finally give up, he actually starts to feel bad
"I just wanted you to try something new, you know? Something that comes from my culture and maybe I could even teach you. I just want us to bond mo-"
"STOP TRYING TO GUILT ME INTO TRYING IT!"
You simply looked at him with a sad face, fully aware he was about to crack
"Ugh- Fine. I'll try it."
He loved it.
So much.
But he refused to tell you
"It's fine. But I'm not eating anymore!"
He snuck down at night and ate the rest
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206 notes · View notes
red-write-hand · 5 months
Text
Frustration
pairing -> thomas shelby x f!oc (tony bentini)
word count -> 3.5k
warnings -> sexual frustration, dirty thoughts, modernized peaky blinders, dirty texting, tony bentini's great thighs, dom/sub themes, table sex, dirty talk, dirty pet names dumification (if you squint), praise, fingering
notes -> this is not a part two to ‘worship him’, this is a different one shot. i’ll make the part two soon, i promise!
reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! this writer *points to the writer, curled up in a pile of blankets while watching the 2013 Gatsby* is a lil tired, be nice to them :]
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Being sexually frustrated wasn't a good look on Tony Bentini. It made her be on edge and it hindered her focus. It wasn’t that her relationship was devoid of pleasure, but Tommy had been working much later into the night during the past couple weeks. This usually wasn’t a big deal, except for the fact that it left her feeling very satisfied. Her fingers could only do so much for her. She was never able to make it feel like it was his fingers deep inside her.
Of course she wasn’t giving up so she brought herself to her climax but it just didn’t feel as satisfying as when he did it. Maybe it was the way he would kiss her right afterwards, maybe it was the way his eyes seemed charged with some aphrodisiac energy. Like all he wanted to do was pull orgasms out of her, one after another, until she was thoroughly fucked out. She sat at her desk in her office that sat, lofted above her factory floor. She had been trying to read a document one of her business partners had sent her but her thoughts were on her tightly crossed legs and on her husband almost thirty minutes away. She recrossed her legs and tried to dispel the images in her mind. Hands running down thighs, glistening fingers, cornflower blue eyes, marks on her thighs, arched backs, dirty phrases in hoarse Romani, hair hastily pulled back so as not to interfere with making her husband feel good. She huffed and leaned back in her leather desk chair. She wasn't going to be able to get any work done at this rate. She needed him too much. Not that she’d let him know that. Then again, she did start pondering whether she should text him, see if he was able to have her jump on the tube to come see him. She lolled her head back and let it rest staring at the ceiling. She needed to do something but what exactly?
She didn’t want to get herself off in her own office, for fear of staining the furniture. She didn’t want to go to her husband, as he was probably working. What was she to do? She groaned and came to terms with the fact she would probably have to wait until she got home to do anything substantial, so for the time being, she would rub her thighs to create some idea of friction and just wait it out. Forced patience was also not a good look on Tony Bentini. She plugged in her earbuds and started blasting music to take her mind off her slightly soaked panties. She bobbed her head along to the music as she got work done, hoping this would be enough to let her have some peace from her lingering need for her gorgeous husband. It seemed that the universe just didn’t want her to have a peaceful day as she got a text from just the person she was trying not to think about.
How’s your day been going, my darling wife whom I love so much <;3
She sighed and kicked her feet up on the corner of her desk. She gave in to the universe. Maybe she could do all this work tomorrow. No, she totally could do all this work tomorrow.
I mean, besides being kinda lonely, perfectly fine. How’s your day been, my amazing husband whom I desire dearly?
She giggled as she sent the text. Hopefully, he would pick up on the fact that she needed him. They say it's better for a couple to be open with each other but sometimes it's more fun to have a bit of a chase, isn't it?
She recrossed her legs for the third time, it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable to be wearing pants, even though her pants were very baggy. She had bought them so they wouldn’t be super tight and revealing. Apparently, the super tight part was her own fault, damn her thick thighs. On the upside, Tommy did adore them. He loved holding them as he ate her out while she whimpered and whined for him to let her fall off that ledge that made her feel oh so good. She knew how much he liked when she sat in his lap, her thighs were the perfect size to fit on him without spilling over the edge. She knew that he loved leaving marks on them as much as possible, in the only place only he would see them, he liked doing things like that. It was like an inside joke for them, something only they knew was there. As much as liked being shown off as his, she loved having those things that only they knew. They sent a few innocuous texts back and forth but then she decided that she was going to play the odds.
Been thinking about you all day. Barely gotten anything done. It’s all your fault. <3
She knew this would either go flirty or sickeningly sweet. She could do both but oh how she wanted him to come and whisk her back to their big plush white bed. As if she could hear him chuckling from miles away,
Why do I feel like you’re feeling a little needy, my dear?
She laughed and bit her tongue so as not to make too much noise. She thought about thousands of things she could send to him but she settled on teasing him, at least she would get punished if she got him hot and bothered. What was that old saying about shooting for the moon and ending up in the stars? She smirked as her fingers flew over her keyboard.
Was I being too obvious that my panties are soaked? Or are you just so very perceptive?
Oh she was in for it now. Too late to back out. She then turned her phone off. No answering any of his texts. No nothing. She would leave him with that and nothing else. She was taking too much pleasure in this. She smiled mischievously. She opened her computer and started to do actual work, as she had satiated her naughty side for now. She opted to ignore her now fully soaked panties for her regular spreadsheets that she had meant to work on today. Much later, her eyes flashed up to the clock at the top of her screen. 8:16. Great! This means she could hop in her cherry red corvette and drive back to Arrow House and prepare dinner, satisfy herself until Tommy came home, then have dinner with her loving husband who loved her so very much! Except she hadn’t planned for when she came home, a very expectant looking Tommy leaning on the banister of the big dark oak stairs. He took a drag of his cigarette that had been hanging from his lips. 
“Teasin’ me like that while I’m at work. Didn’t think a good girl like you had it in you.” His voice was gruff with a slight teasing edge to it, his thick Birmingham accent just tying it all up perfectly. Obviously, he was being a bit ironic, as both of them knew she was far from being what a stereotypical ‘good girl’ was. In fact, she was counting on the fact that he knew she wasn’t good to begin with. Her heels clicked on the wood paneled floor as she slowly walked up to her husband. She ran a finger down his right jacket lapel, gently caressing the edge of it. 
“Who ever said I was trying to be good? Definitely not me.” She felt his hands wander and finally alight on her hips, which then became a much more dominant touch. She smiled as she kissed down his jaw. Her hands had been ghosting his chest as his were traveling down her back. She was delaying what she knew was coming next. She knew exactly what he was about to say. She did deserve it, but she was no bland bottom, she could be a bit of a brat if need be.
“You do know that you deserve to be punished for teasing me. Then not answering any of my texts. That’s two. Then not doing anything about those–” She felt his knee brush against her crotch, knowing exactly what he was checking for.
“Still very soaked panties of yours. You’ve always been so good with your hands Tony, why not deal with your own problem?” She could hear the slight growl of dominance in his voice. Her smirk only grew from there. She flashed her big gray eyes at him, she made them look all innocent. She hoped it looked like she would never do such a horrid thing. Her Irish accent never really gave way to anything vaguely innocent sounding but she tried. 
“But it won’t feel as good as yours does. Your fingers…just feel–” She leaned close to his ear as she moaned the last two words. 
“So good…” She could feel him getting hard. Since they were so close, she could feel him start to harden against her thigh. She brought a hand up to play with the back of his hair. She was intentionally trying to be sweet to see how long both of them could last until one broke. She was Tony Bentini, she never lost at anything. She gave a last lingering kiss on the sharp corner of his jaw before dropping her coat off and walking into the kitchen. She almost forgot to kick off her heels. He chuckled and brushed them to the side with his foot as she had kicked them off in the middle of the corridor. He followed her into the kitchen where she started preparing dinner. He knew that she was doing this to get out of her punishment, so he waited, like a cat. She was humming along with a song as she cooked. He leaned against the marble island behind her. He recognized what she was humming as she came to the chorus. It was ‘Gimme More’ by Britney Spears. His sister Ada had had the worst Britney phase when she was younger. Tony had gotten a kick out of the fact that every Shelby boy knew every word to every popular Britney Spears song from the first couple notes. She flitted around the kitchen, gathering supplies and making sure everything was perfect. Once she stopped for a full second, he snaked his arms around her waist and held her fast to chest. 
“Just because you moved locations and now you’re cooking doesn’t mean you get out of your punishment. I could just take you on my marble countertops and you know that you would beg for it just the same. You would still be a blushing and moaning mess under me while I make you cum.” Blush started to bloom on her cheeks and she turned her head just a little to not show him how much his words affected her.
“I know you’re blushing. I know that my words are affecting you. You know that you’ve been a bad girl, not taking care of yourself then not letting me do it all day.” He started to pull her jacket off her. She shrugged it off and pulled her tie off too. He chuckled. He would usually be worried why she wasn’t talking but right now, he knew that if she tried to speak, her voice would be all cracked and breathy. He smirked and didn’t mention that she was dropping her clothes on his kitchen floor. She was down to her blouse and pants.
“You’re eager for someone who doesn’t want to lose. Do you want me inside you that badly?” She knew he was riling her up and she knew that she shouldn’t care but oh, how well it was working. She laughed and kept preparing dinner with a serene expression on her face, or at least that's what she hoped was on her face. She could still feel his arms around her waist, his amazing fingers fiddling at the buttons closest to her waistband. She giggled and kissed the top of his head. He smirked, knowing that she was trying to make him all soft and gooey so she could get her release, but he wasn’t to lose either. He started to nip and bite at her neck. He was going to win. He was sure of it.
“You’re holding up well for a pretty slut who wants me so badly that she’s practically leaking.” He kissed right under her ear, his Birmingham accent thick and infectious. It had made powerful women across the United Kingdom fall to their knees, he had perfected it for one unfortunate soul in particular, who by all accounts, was holding up rather well. Even though her knees had started to feel like jelly, she needed to stay strong. She sighed and put the chicken thighs in the oven and set it to 350 for one hour and thirty minutes. She turned to her husband with a fairly triumphant smile.
“I’ve got an entire hour and thirty minutes to myself now. I can now take care of myself.” She was intentionally not saying ‘Now you can take care of me!’ That sounded a little too desperate, which  she was but she wasn't about to tell him that. He chuckled, and with little effort, set her on the marble countertop. She smirked and crossed her legs teasingly, as if to say, ‘You aren’t going to win. I am.’ He cocked his eyebrows and tapped her top knee with two fingers. She pouted and uncrossed her legs, she was a lot of things but disobedient was not one of them. She uncrossed his legs and he stood between them. He ran his hands, teasingly, down the length of her torso. 
“So obedient. So put together for a good little whore. You know, it’s rather hot in ‘ere. I think you’d fare better if you didn’t have this on.” He had been unbuttoning her blouse as he hypnotized her with his words. His words that could move millions. His words that could bring queens to their knees. His words that could stop wars. She hung on every dropped consonant and every syllable he uttered. He pulled his blouse off fully which exposed the black lace bra she had on. He nipped right where he knew she was sensitive, which elicited such a pretty moan from her. 
“What a good slut. Wearing such revealing lingerie under your work clothes. What–a–good—whore.” He punctuated every word with another mark he left on her good sized chest. She had started to let out strangled noises as well as a hand going to his hair, trying to steer him to no avail. He stood back for a moment and she knew what he wanted from her. She tugged her pants off and the expensive material dropped to the floor, neither of them caring. She shivered as now she was just in a black lace lingerie set and nothing else. He ran a strong hand down her thighs. She whimpered as his fingers came closer to her completely soaked panties. He shook his head and tutted.
“Look what a mess you made in this pretty set. How long have you been waiting to be fucked dumb?” She stuttered. She couldn’t get words out to say anything. She felt his hand, usually so soft and gentle, now hard and commanding come up and tilt her jaw to look at him. 
“It would be wise to answer my question, my darling. Just because you’re my pretty wife does not exempt you from not answering when I ask things.” They both knew that she was much more than his pretty wife but currently, he was talking about who was right in front of him. Sitting on the counter wasn’t strong and powerful Tony Bentini, it was Thomas Shelby’s pretty wife who would do anything for him, which included sitting around and looking pretty for him. She smiled weakly. Her voice was breathy and was right on the edge of a whimper. 
“Almost two weeks.” She felt his hand move up her thigh as his other hand brought her face up to look at him. She flashed him her obedient gray eyes. His voice was commanding and dominant, but had that edge of teasing that she loved so much. 
“Two weeks, what?” He was teasing her even more now. She blushed and tried to instinctively rub her thighs but his hips stopped her efforts. She whined and tried again to the same result before she registered that she was supposed to say something. 
“Two weeks, what?” He repeated, to drive home a point. He had two fingers under her chin. His cornflower blue eyes bore into her gray ones. His with that touch of dominance to them and hers with that hint of submission.
“Two weeks, M-Mr. Shelby.” She stuttered out. She couldn’t steady her voice out at all. He nodded and gave her a sultry kiss. A kiss that lingered and gave her a fleeting taste to something that she wanted so badly. Something she knew she wasn’t getting until he was satisfied.
“I was going to make you get on your knees and put that pretty mouth to good use but I think a good girl like you who’s probably wound so tight-” He flicked a single finger over the soaked part of her panties. She let out a whimper and buried her face in his neck. She could hear him sigh and kiss her jaw. She could feel him bending her onto the cold counter. She didn’t even register that her panties were being gently pulled off her. She only felt his fingers glide down and dance exactly where she needed them to be.
“I do apologize for leaving you so needy. The company has been so swamped and I don’t trust anyone else to do any of the important work, but right now, it’s just us. I’m going to make you feel so good. I promise, my pretty little slut.” She bucked her hips immediately when she felt two of his slender fingers enter her. She let out a few broken moans when she heard his chuckle. He kissed her right under her sensitive chest.
“You’re so wet. So needy. So good for me.” He leaned over the countertop and kissed her as tenderly as he possibly could. He did want her to tell him when he had been forgetting to make her feel good. He would gladly skip work to fuck her stupid.
“O-Oh Mr. Shelby…” She had one of her hands behind her head to make sure she didn’t hurt herself. He kept pumping his fingers into her at a sickening pace that made her back arch, one climax after another. All while he whispered sweet nothings in Romani. She had lost track of how many times she had finished on his fingers when she heard him chuckle.
“I would say your punishment is to clean up the absolute mess you’ve made on my expensive counters but I think I've been too hard on you my darling. Let’s get you up to bed and clean you up. I’ll even clean you off myself then you can fall asleep in my arms.” She nodded sleepily. She heard him walk over to the oven and turned it off. He chuckled and walked back between her legs. He kissed one more time between guiding her legs around his waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He walked both of them up to their master bedroom and set her down gently in the tub in their spacious bathroom. He kissed her forehead and as he stripped her fully. 
After they had settled themselves in bed and she had come out of her Shelby-drunk stupor, she kissed his jaw.
“You know, I never did make you feel good. I’m supposed to be a good wife.” He laughed and kissed her hairline. His eyes were full of adoration and lust. A perfect combination for them.
“You’re a perfect wife. You still love me after I took your needs for granted for two weeks. I’m surprised how you’re even in my arms right now.” She giggled and squirmed a little to find a better position in his arms. He pulled her close and kissed her tenderly. Tender and full of love. Love with a dash of lust. Lust filled with all the love in the world. Her eyes were full of love and serenity.
“It’s because I’m such a good wife. The only woman who will put up with you.” He nipped at her neck for that comment. She laughed and they fell back into their normal rhythm. A joke, a flirt, an innuendo, a touch here, a touch there, a hand there, a shared hungry look. It was easy for them. Absolute peace. Absolutely perfect. 
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taglist: @birminghamshelbyboys@goosita@cillianthinker@hllywdwhre@hanawrites404@no-1peakyfan@forgottenpeakywriter@nick-carried-away@cilldistilled@atomicradiogirl@aphroditeslover11@thatwitchybitch420 @shelbybabysblog @no-fooking-fighting
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moonahstone · 7 months
Text
(ignore the fact I straight up forgot I had tumblr and pretend I don't disapear regularly)
You've seen the season 5 trailer, I've seen the season 5 trailer, you know my brain is instinctively rotting with no regard to my own health so lets cut to the chase on a run down of said trailer and what the hell I think is going on in it!! Plz excuse the low quality images and if you don't want to see anything from the trailer do not open this next part <3
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Something big is coming. Initially my mind went to potential kid at button house but the rest of the trailer kind of had me leaning elsewhere to the idea of them having to move? I'll go into more detail but either or of them feel like they could fit for "life changing" as both having a kid and moving houses are massive steps in life. I'm kind of hoping for the former because there could be a really cute story line there but also the latter is where I'm placing most my bets.
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BARCLEY! MY LEAST FAVOURITE AND FAVOURITE GUY AT THE EXACT SAME TIME! I HATE EVERYTHING HE DOES IN A GOOD WAY! No but seriously, Maybe something happens to him and he sees ghosts? Or maybe he just goes snooping a little too much and gets trapped. If so I'd love it if the ghosts tried to mess with him to get him out and we could get a little Jemima back! Though I'm not sure how old her actress is now so it might now work :|
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U good Thomas?
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I'm feeling like if Cap's backstory is explored here this could be Pat picking fun at him a little on something related to said backstory? Not necessarily but something along those lines. There isn't a lot of context attached to this but I'm kind of hoping it's something like that. It could be nothing though, this line could have been in any season and I would believe you, it is a very them moment. Maybe though its a little exploration of the Cap's sexuality though? I don't personally think he needs one, I think it's better as it is, making it clear that a LGBT character doesn't need to have a whole coming out scene or anything like that to make them valid, more characters who are gay rather than gay characters. I think I've ranted about that before though and how Cap is the kind of rep I want. If it is something like that though, I don't mind, I still love a good bit of rep!
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I mean it is what it says on the tin. They are being investigated for the claims regarding the fire. Thus triggers various theories for me, mostly surrounding the fact that that will not go in their favour and will cause financial difficulty but whatever, these claims will control and be the main plot of this series, like how running the guest house was a focus of series 4.
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Not entirely sure? Maybe something associated with the previous thing of the fire but whatever it is if it is to do with the fire then maybe some sort of lawsuit is placed against them? MAybe it's assumed that they started the fire on purpose to claim off of it and they're forced to gather money to pay back some kind of fine? I'm not sure of those legalities but it could work and could lead to an ending of them being forced to leave for financial difficulties. On that maybe it's to do with the loans from season 1 that Mike took out and they simply ran short of cash for paying it back. Regardless, it wouldn't be so significant in the trailer if it wasn't important for the series (probably)
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... I'm not happy about this but also I am. The clothes, the room dress, this just is a Kitty flashback. Hey maybe it could be Thomas but it couldn't be anyone later. I don't know when the pineapple became more popularised but everyone's shocked, Kitty was shocked at the concept of a pineapple in earlier seasons and just look at what she is wearing. Whatever episode this is in, this has to be the episode where we find out how Kitty dies.
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IDK BUT LOOK AT THIS INCREADIBLE SCREENSHOT I TOOK HE LOOKS DEMONIC
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Same to the Kitty point. This has got to be Cap dying. Even if it isn't it's a little bit of backstory because he has his lil hat on! I can't read the signs so I am likely missing a huge context lump but the sumary of it's his backstory stuff I think covers the most part. This too will likely shatter my entire soul
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Oh boy that's gonna be a stinger. It looks like older decor in a way so could be a flashback to when older ghosts and Robins friends got sucked off (chance for a little Mary appearance??? PLeaSE) but also the floor (maybe because of the low quality) looks kind of dusty and leafy which likely means nothing but to me it associates with the current disrepair Button house is supposed to be in? That is likely (and hopefully) me reading too much into things but if so, I'm going to bawl either way. Regardless, we will see someone else move on, mostly clear due to what Robin was saying over the top (Something like "There is battle to when one of us go whoomf")
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Maybe about Alison and Mike leaving? He's trying to lighten the mood? Or talking about peoples deaths? I know lots of people have said Caps death is probably going to be something very silly and if so this would be a likely appropriate response. Or its him talking about his own death and is one of those things trailers do to make them more editable for adverts as it is the last season, going out with a bang is an appropriate little phrase for them to snip in.
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I'm absolutely stuck on this theory that Alison and Mike will be forced to leave Button house at this point, hence Kitty's reaction which would be pretty appropriate, 'nough said.
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This feels significant. Like REALLLLLY significant and I can't figure out why. Maybe the framing? I have no clue but currently thinking if it is forced to leave, they had until midnight on a specific day to pay money or if not, maybe the time that the captain died? Maybe he died after being attacked or something while wandering around Button house at midnight and Alison finds out after finding him sleepwalking around the house which he has always done but she's never noticed before. Like how Fanny always throws herself out the window. It would work as well because of the time difference as that clock I believe is about 4 hours behind so if he died at midnight then he'd be walking around at about 4 which would be a bit late for people to be up (ordinarily)
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Nothing really to add, just reiterating that they all look pretty crushed and defeated in this screenshot - throwing hands at one theory AGAIN
Sorry for how long this was but in summary: I think the gate house burning will cause massive financial problems for Alison and Mike and they will spend the entire season trying to fix these problem but be unsuccessful. We know how heart-breaking this show can be after all. It would lead to a very tragic but very round ending where Alison and Mike are forced to leave via financial difficulties and they are forced to say goodbye to the ghosts and there could be a heart-breaking scene as they pull away and the ghosts run after the car like children following their parents down the road. The though crushes me a little but I feel like the most logical ending is that they have to leave. If that is how it ends though I think the last line should go to Julian awkwardly standing there as everyone's sobbing and he just kind of goes "... Now what?" I don't know why, I just think it would be funny :D
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throwaway-yandere · 1 year
Note
Dearest Penpal,
How are you enjoying the festivities? I myself couldn't attend due to personal matters I have to resolve in my home nation. I terribly miss the scent of inazuman blossoms and their cuisine.
I wish I had more interesting things to say, I hope you don't find this letter a little lackluster than the previous one as I've already told you almost my entire life! How funny.
Liyue is peaceful yet bustling with activity as always. I find myself daydreaming about quitting my job and traveling like I hear a lot of travelers do. Perhaps I'll entertain the thought more if the heavens decide I'm worthy of a vision.
Looking forward to your response,
from Starlight.
a/n: sorry life is a mess, i hilariously got sick (still am, my head hURTS) and everything is a mess. from school, to genshin pulls (calamity!mika.), to my pentab not working, to idek anymore lololol anyways, incredibly sorry for the delay in letters! none of you deserve to be left hanging like that T_T. i'll just blame thoma in the lore-
From this yandere genshin secret pen pal event
✥ YOU GOT A LETTER FROM YOUR SECRET PEN PAL!!!
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"Are y-you sure you didn't make this letter up?" Beidou asked, clutching the paper you handed out to her. The normally confident captain looked pale as her eyes trailed to read the passages repeatedly. You can only nod in sheer reluctance and stand like a good child waiting for a scolding.
"Yes, which is why I wanted to meet the Inazuman man you have boarding your ship..."
Beidou waved the letter in the air.
"KAZUHA! YOU MIGHT WANNA READ THIS, KID!!!"
Kazuha leaped down, landing with his anemo vision as support. Familiar maple leaves surrounded his fall— leaves you had seen attached to Widower Momiji's letters. You strike him as the man you were looking for, and knowing how Widower Momiji did not lack friends from well-raised circles, this "Kazuha" must be a fine gentleman as well.
"What's wrong, Beidou?"
She shoved the letter against his chest.
"Does this handwriting look familiar to you?"
Kazuha didn't even see the letter before he jolted and stilled.
"There's a familiar scent mixed in these pen strokes, a scent that should no longer exist..."
The man whom you assumed to be a wandering samurai unfolded the parchment, vaguely skimming through the contents. Despite how almost slapdash he read the letter, he craved the tenderness of your pen pal's handwriting. Some loops he traces with his thumb, while some he was too afraid to smudge. 
"It's been years since I last exchanged epistles with him," Kazuha spoke with no rancor or jealousy whatsoever. "
You could only blink. It appears you'd be dealing with constant flowery honesty should you also befriend him, but you don't seem to mind it. 
"So, do you think it's him?"
"There is no doubt about it," Kazuha answered his captain. "But that doesn't mean his way of communication isn't limited. If anything, this might just be Lady Guuji's way of rewarding him for his past heroics."
You grabbed the letter the samurai reluctantly returned, "huh? Forgive me for asking, but is my secret pen pal some sort of criminal or a government official? Because based on how you talk about him, he comes off as someone significant."
Beidou smiled awkwardly.
"The truth is, your pen pal is dea—"
"Is an honest man," Kazuha butted in. "Don't worry, I can vouch for him. He's the most resilient and bravest man I've met and I'm lucky to have had the privilege to call him my friend."
"Then why do I feel like you're hiding a crucial detail from me?"
Kazuha chuckled.
"Because he's your secret pen pal, and based on his current situation, he must be incredibly lonely and you're the only one he can talk to."
... A fair point. It wouldn't be right if you knew his identity while he doesn't have a sliver of an idea who you are in return.
"Don't worry about it, kid. Say, why don't ya share a drink with us? My treat, of course," Beidou proudly bumped her fist against her chest. "Oh, and by the way, this kid here is Kazuha. Kazuha, this is (Y/n)."
"Nice to meet you."
"You as well."
"Now that we've had our introductions, would I be able to partake in some sake, captain?" Kazuha teased, but his tone doesn't quite match his somber expression.
Beidou sighed.
"Just this once, I'll forget about your height and let you drink. You deserve it after reading that letter."
"Thank you, Beidou."
Kazuha turned to look at you, a gentle smile resting on his face.
"And Mx. (Y/n)? When you write a letter back, tell him that Kaedehara Kazuha received his greetings."
52 notes · View notes
meaningofaeons · 9 months
Note
aaah ops! I'M SORRY! I'm sending a second ask since I didn't saw you don't write for him, please then, discard my previous ask, I'm going to ask for one you write for! (Still sorry!)
can I go to the cafe with Thoma to see a Orange bengal cat, and order cider?
Thank you in advance~
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ puppy-dog eyes
⊹ character(s) - thoma ⊹ word count - 553 ⊹ notes - gn!reader, fluff, pet names used (dear, etc.), possibly ooc thoma
⊹ katze's 500 follower writing cat-baret
hi omg please don't worry about it !!! you're totally fine, and I appreciate you noticing and letting me know w a different request ^^ I'm so happy you sent me a thoma req he is one of my favs I love him <333!! I hope you enjoy your "cat cafe date" with him!
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We all know Thoma is just about the greenest flag a man could possibly be.
Devoted, sweet, and a really good cook. He's got all of that and more.
On top of that, he's loving, excessively so.
And he trusts you above all else.
I can't see Thoma as getting seriously jealous in any capacity
The man would sooner be worried that you were freaked out by someone flirting w/ you than be upset that someone didn't know you were his, and he was yours
On that note, if he does see someone being pushy, he's super polite in confronting them.
"Excuse me, they have a partner!"
Totally presents himself as yours rather than presenting you as his when doing this.
"I'm sorry. I know they're quite wonderful, but unfortunately, I belong wholly to them, and they don't have room for a second ^^"
Now, however, let's say it's someone you both know...
Thoma isn't more or less upset. Rather, confused.
Becomes like a sad puppy, almost, because he doesn't know what to do.
It's your friend! Don't they know you're together?
He can't exactly insert himself to subtly tell them off...
Thoma feels silly for worrying over such a simple thing.
It's a non-issue, really. You and Shikanoin have always been friends, so there's no reason to be afraid.
Even if he did have feelings for you, well... you'd reject him kindly. And considering the type of person Shikanoin is (at least, from what Thoma can assume, he's not all that close with the detective) you would remain friends anyhow.
But...
"Thoma? What's the matter?"
You patted your lover's arm gently, watching him jolt just the slightest bit at the contact, staring at you with wide green eyes.
"O-Oh, nothing! I'm sorry, I was lost in thought."
You eyed him a bit. He seemed... off.
"Are you okay? You seem a bit down."
"Um..." Right. If he was feeling bad, you're one of the only people in the world he would trust with his emotions, so he could easily tell you what's wrong. "Well... Shikanoin, right?"
You followed your boyfriend's gaze to where the detective was mingling with some other Inazumans, politely chatting with them about some such.
"Yes, that's him. Is there something wrong?"
"Well... Um... Does he not know that we're together?"
You shook your head. "I don't think so. He's not super interested."
"Um, but, he seemed..." Thoma trailed off, his face heating up. He felt more and more ridiculous the more he blabbered on, like some envious, possessive... jerk! "He seemed like... um..."
"Dear... are you jealous?"
At that point, the man turned cherry red, steam practically floating above his head.
"N-No! That's— He was just, um, asking you a lot, and he was really close, and..."
"He was asking if I knew anything about a case he was investigating. He has a tendency to do that," you chuckled. "Besides..."
You pecked Thoma gently on the cheek, wondering if he could get any more crimson than he already was at the contact.
"You're the one I love. So don't sweat it, okay?"
All the man could do was cover his face in embarrassment, his head falling upon your shoulder as he whined.
You only laughed, patting his head gently.
He really was just like a puppy sometimes.
47 notes · View notes
Text
Work of Art
Prompts: Hi! Umm firstly I just want to say I adore your fics! Especially the sanderside and Merlin ones 💜 Secondly, I don't know if you are taking promps right now but if you are I've had a idea bouncing around my head for a hurt/comfort Roman fic for... well longer then I care to admit 😅 I was thinking one were Roman in attempt to make amends he paints/draws everyone something representing how he thinks of them? In a kinda abstract but very positive way! (Extra points if everyone has already apologized to eachother but no one has apologized to him and he thinks he doesn't deserve any) and everyone loves the paintings but sadly Roman didn't do one representing himself so they can't have a set! except he very much did and it isn't flattering. I'm thinking some form of broken/rusting crown/sword and colors of brusing or some such. Followed up with realizations of how not great Roman is doing and much comfort. Sorry if this is to much but it feels like something you'd do really well if its not your vibe no worries and I hope you have a wonderful day! - ultrageekygirl 
Hello, first of all I have to say I really really love your writing even if I don't leave any comments. I've had to have read all your work about 3 times now but I haven't much counted. I was wondering if maybe you could write some hurt/comfort with Logan? Like how he can't get a word in edge wise and it's no fault of the other sides they just don't seem to notice? And slowly he just learns to stop talking and contributing. And like maybe Roman notices and they have a heart to heart late at night? U don't like have to do this if u don't want to it's just an idea I suppose. -a dutiful reader
Read on Ao3
Warnings: self-esteem issues, self-doubt
Pairings: dlampr, can be platonic or romantic you decide
Word Count: 5741
Out of all the things that Roman could be doing right now, he finds himself staring at the easel in the corner of his room. 
It’s just gone sunset and everyone’s split up after dinner to wind down for the evening. Dinner hadn’t been anything spectacularly good or bad, not really. No one got into a fight, no one was celebrating anything, it was the perfect small-talk-and-eat meal. 
He tries not to feel too disappointed and then not to hate himself for feeling disappointment. 
Deciding that there are far too many thoughts buzzing about his head for him to even think about going to sleep, he gets up and goes over to the easel, unfolding it and setting it up in the middle of his room. He snaps his fingers to get out of his prince costume and reaches for the paints and brushes on a nearby shelf. 
As he sets them up, the buzzing begins to solidify. 
Everyone has been—well, not quite walking on eggshells but wary around each other. As though the smallest thing could set off another argument that would lead to a massive disagreement that could shatter whatever tenuous peace they’ve achieved. He knows it’s making Virgil antsy as hell and it probably isn’t too much of a stretch to believe that it’s wearing on everyone else too. Patton, at least, who can very much tell that something’s up with Thomas and so something’s probably up with the Sides too. And Logan, who’s never been one to hold his tongue if he truly believes something is wrong. Janus…Janus probably knows too. He can hear every lie in the Mindscape and Roman knows that there have been a damn sight more flying around lately. And Remus…well, Remus thrives in chaos. 
Chaos abounds. 
He looks back at the easel, chewing on his lip. 
What if…what if he helped?
Not in any obvious way, not in any proactive way, not anything that would actually do that much, he’s learned his lesson when it comes to making big swings, but…maybe just to let them know he doesn’t have any hard feelings about anything that’s happened? That he still loves them?
A white canvas appears on the easel and Roman reaches for a brush. 
———
He finishes Patton’s first, maybe just because Patton and feelings go closely together, maybe because he found himself reaching for a light blue color first, or maybe just by chance. 
“Um, hey, Patton?”
Patton looks up from a book in the living room, smile coming a little slowly to his face but no less genuinely. “Oh, hey, kiddo! What’s going on?”
“Can I show you something?”
A flicker of surprise crosses his face and he stands up quickly. “Yeah! Yeah, kiddo, you can show me anything. Is it in the Imagination? Where are we going today?”
Roman blinks, slightly taken aback by the sudden enthusiasm. He must pause for a second too long because Patton’s looking at him in concern. 
“Roman? You—you okay?”
Snap out of it. “Yes, yes, sorry, I just—“ he scratches the back of his head— “I guess it’s been a while, huh?”
“Since you wanted to show me stuff? Yeah, kiddo, it’s been a while, but that’s why I’m so excited! I want to see what you made!”
A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and he bows, gesturing elegantly up the stairs. “Right this way, then.”
Patton beams and they make their way upstairs. He almost reaches for the door to the Imagination before Roman reaches out and shakes his head, tangling Patton’s fingers in his and leading him further down the hall. 
“It’s in my room.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Are you…disappointed?”
“No! No, no, I still really want to see what you’ve made, I…” He shuffles a bit as they come to a stop. “Okay, maybe I’m a little disappointed.”
Something twitches in Roman’s chest. Has he really been so stingy with Imagination time? “After I show you, we could still go in the Imagination, there’s a, um, there’s a new forest that I think you’d like.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, sure.” He smiles and pushes open the door. “Come in, it’s right over here.”
Patton walks in and stops, his eyes glued to the canvas. His mouth drops open and he grabs Roman’s arm. “Roman—oh, kiddo, did you do this?”
“Yeah,” he says a bit sheepishly, scratching the back of his head again, “it’s, um…it’s you.”
His eyes widen even further. “It’s me?”
Roman gestures to the canvas, upon which an almost anatomically correct heart has been painted in soft blues, yellows, and purples. Surrounded by paint splatters that look almost like shadows, the heart seems to pulse in a mysterious blue aether when it catches the light just right. 
“Yeah, Padre, that’s…well, I guess it’s kinda how I see you.”
Patton turns to look at him, his eyes reluctant to leave the canvas, staring up at Roman. Roman swallows. 
“You…you’re—“ god, this is so much harder out loud— “you do a lot of work that goes unnoticed sometimes. Like just keeping us understanding that we’re having feelings and emotions but we’re not our feelings and emotions and—I don’t know, you just—you feel like a constant to me, you know?”
Silence follows his comments—that were not said to Patton’s face directly, he’s not brave enough for that—and Roman winces, worried he’s said something wrong or not said enough or maybe the colors are just wrong. 
“I mean maybe it’s a bit too literal with the whole heart thing, so—“
A sniffle and a tight grip on his arm and Patton shakes his head wildly. “No, no, kiddo, it’s—it’s beautiful.”
“…you like it?”
“Oh, sweetheart, I love it!” Patton claps his hands and reaches out to squeeze Roman’s shoulder again. “It’s—it’s—well, gosh, I don’t have the words to describe it!”
The heaviness flickers as Roman smiles in relief, sagging a bit into Patton’s touch. “I’m happy you like it.”
“How could I not? Oh, kiddo, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“If you want help moving it, I can—“
“Moving it?” Patton looks up sharply. “What do you mean, moving it?”
“Well, it’s yours. You can put it wherever you want it.”
“Can we hang it in my room?”
“Yeah, Padre,” Roman says, trying to hide how giddy he is that Patton likes it so much he wants to hang it in his room, “we can put it in your room.”
Patton squeals excitedly and snaps on a pair of gloves as Roman carefully covers it with a sheet. They pick it up and walk it down to Patton’s room, carefully propping it against the bed as Patton looks around for where to hang it. 
“Can I put it right above my bed?”
“Sure. Hold that side?”
“Here?”
“Yes. Let’s just—is that height right?”
“Looks good, yes.”
“Alright, and then let’s just…okay, there. That should be in the right spot.”
They step back to look at it and Patton throws his arms around Roman. “Oh, kiddo, I really do love it.”
Roman chuckles. “Still want to go to the Imagination?”
“Can I stand here and look at it for a little longer?”
“Sure, Padre.”
———
He finishes Logan’s next, probably because he was too lazy to wash all the blue off of one of his brushes and the buzzing decided it liked how it looked. He takes a bit longer with this one just because keeping his brushstrokes so even was much more time-consuming than he’d anticipated, but it’s worth it when he steps back to see the result. 
He knocks on Logan’s door. 
“Come in?”
Roman swallows and opens the door, smiling a bit when he sees Logan glancing over from his computer. “Hey, Specs. Can I borrow you for just a moment? Won’t be more than ten minutes, promise.”
“Ah, Roman, hello.” Logan glances at a clock. “Yes, I suppose I can spare ten minutes. What is it you need?”
“I want to show you something.”
Logan covers it well, but he falters a little as he gets up, quickly adjusting his tie. “Is this in the Imagination?”
“No, no, just in my room. Promise.”
“Alright.”
He tries not to fidget too obviously with his hands as he leads Logan back to his room, opening the door and gesturing for him to go through first. Logan accepts with a nod and goes in, glancing around before his eyes land on the easel. 
“That’s it,” Roman says quietly as he shuts the door, “that’s what I wanted to show you. It’s for you.”
Logan doesn’t say anything, still looking at the canvas. A still body of water surrounded by mountains of galaxy, a single drop falling from some unknown height to make ripples that look as if they were molded from the fabric of the universe itself. Roman comes up hesitantly behind him, trying to get a glimpse of his face. 
“It’s, um…it’s how I see you.”
Still nothing. Shit. Maybe he needs to explain more?
“You’re—you’re really clever, Logan, and not just in that you’re smart and you know a lot of things, but you—you get a bunch of stuff that goes way over my head and you always seem to know how it, like, fits? Like into the whole universe, you can just find the right place for a piece of information to go like you’re solving a puzzle and you make it look so—so—so natural.” He fiddles with his hands. “And I remembered that thing we were talking about with drops of water and how if you add another drop it’s still just one drop.”
Nice going, dunce. How are you connecting that to what you just said? 
“A-and I know I’ve been—we’ve been—well, really, I’ve been pushing you more and more to the side and I know that’s not fair of me and I wanted you to know that I don’t just see you as there to provide the footnotes for a conversation or be just an encyclopedia or anything s-so I—“
Logan swallows. 
“I—I mean—“ 
He cuts off when Logan turns to face him slowly with the softest expression he’s ever seen. 
“…Specs?”
“Roman,” Logan says quietly, “this is magnificent.”
He swallows. “You…you like it?”
Logan just nods, looking back at the painting. “It’s extraordinary. The way you’ve used color and shadow to draw the focus to the center of the ripples, the way your scale has come together…”
Roman smiles helplessly as Logan begins to explain all the things he finds technically fascinating about the painting. He glances at the clock by his computer. 
“Logan? I’m sorry, I don’t want to interrupt, but I did promise I wouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”
Logan just pauses and looks at him with a smile. “I think I can extend to fifteen.”
He really has missed getting to listen to Logan talk. He really needs to be better about that. 
———
Virgil’s up next and Roman decides he’s never going to look at purple paint again unless he’s throwing it at a wall. He shakes his head and glances at all the tiny brushes and sponges and spends a good half an hour in the bathroom trying to get them all clean. 
He texts Virgil when he’s done. 
Me: hey are you really busy?
shadowling: no what do u want
Me: can i show you something?
shadowling: sure where
Me: my room
shadowling: k be rite there
Roman lets out a breath and glances at the painting one last time. This’ll be fine. This will be fine. 
God, he hopes this is going to be fine. 
A knock at the door. “Open up, Princey.”
“Coming!”
Virgil jerks his head at him. “Hey. What’d you want to show me?”
“Um…”
“Do not tell me you asked me here for no reason.”
“No, no, I just—oh, just come in.”
Virgil raises an eyebrow but does, stepping through. “I swear, Roman, if you just go the out of my room so Remus can put shit in there again, I’m gonna…”
His eyes land on the painting and his words trail off into silence. That’s…that’s probably a good sign, right?
Roman glances over again to see the massive spider in the middle of an expansive web dried just right, crouched in the middle of a shadowscape that seems to extend past the boundaries of the canvas. Silver glints off of some of the strands of the web, glitter packed carefully in tight little lines to catch the light just right. 
“It’s for you.”
“Shut up.”
Roman slams his mouth shut. Okay. Maybe this isn’t a good thing. Is the spider too literal? Maybe he should’ve gone with something else. 
“Shut up,” Virgil repeats, even though Roman hasn’t said anything, “shut up, Princey, you did not—you did not—“
He smacks Roman’s shoulder. 
“You made this for me?”
“Y-yeah, it’s, um…” Fuck it. “It’s how I see you.”
“How you what?”
“You—you always talk about spiders being at the center of their webs so they can feel everything and I guess it just reminded me of you. Of how you, you know, you keep an eye on literally everything so you can warn us if there’s danger. I thought it was cool so I…”
Virgil mutters a curse under his breath. “Damn you, Princey, we were even.”
“We were what?”
“We were even.” Virgil smacks his shoulder again. “You go and do something this fucking incredible now? This—you made a fucking masterpiece for me and now I gotta deal with this? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Do you like it or not,” Roman asks weakly, “Virgil, I don’t—I don’t understand.”
“Of course I fucking like it, it’s fucking amazing.”
“Then why are you mad at me?”
“Oh, shit, Princey, I’m not—I’m not actually mad.” He knocks their elbows together. “I’m just—you know I’m bad with…stuff like this.”
“Like accepting things people give you?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit, I forgot about that. I’m sorry, I—“
“Don’t you fucking dare. This is great, I’m keeping it, you’re incredible, and now I’m gonna figure out some way to pay you back because I want to and you deserve it.”
Roman has absolutely no idea what’s going on anymore but Virgil seems to be happy with it so he’ll take it as a win. 
“Do you want help moving it to your room?”
“Absolutely I do.” 
———
Janus is up next and Roman is seriously considering getting one of those voice-activated light systems so he doesn’t have to keep getting up to turn the lights on and off. 
He goes to knock on Janus’s door and fully startles when the door swings open unprompted. 
“Roman,” Janus says smoothy, raising an eyebrow when he stumbles back, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
He takes a moment to catch his breath and looks back up. “I wanted to see if you were free.”
“Perhaps I am, what is it you wanted?”
“I wanted to show you something.”
The eyebrow just ticks higher. 
“In my room.”
Now both eyebrows are raised. 
“Not like that, Janus, I just—please?”
“Oh, alright,” he sighs, shutting the door and looking way too much like some aristocrat who’s been terribly put out, “but this better be worth it.”
I hope so too. 
He opens the door to let Janus in and hovers by it, watching anxiously as Janus’s eyes land on the painting. 
“…Roman, just you do this?”
He nods, then realizes Janus is currently facing away from him and so can’t see. “Yes. Yeah, I…I did it. It’s for you.”
“For me, you say?” 
“Yeah, um…hold on.” 
He flicks off the lights and Janus doesn’t have time to stifle his gasp. 
What had once been a simple pair of hands reaching out into the vastness of an abstract cityscape now has glowing lines leading from each finger down to various corners of the canvas. Glistening knots tie around each finger and behind them all, lurking off in the shadows, is a single yellow eye with a slit pupil. 
“I tried to pick out the paint so it would glow but it wouldn’t be too bright in the dark,” Roman explains, “and I tried to make it so it looks good in the dark or the light.”
Janus turns to look at him, barely visible in the dim light. Just by the intensity of it, Roman can tell he’s narrowed his eyes. “What do you want, Roman?”
“Wh-what?”
“You heard me,” Janus says, voice firm, “what is it that you want from me?”
“Nothing, I—ah!”
For Janus had reached out and taken his chin in the dark, jerking his head up, the grip startling him terribly as he fumbles for the light switch again. He turns it back on to see Janus staring hard at him. 
“I don’t want anything,” he mumbles around the hand, “I just wanted to give it to you.”
“Why?”
“Because I—it’s how I see you, you should have it.”
“Some puppet master, pulling strings behind the scenes?”
“No!” Fuck, this went really badly. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. “I—you can see through things in ways that I can’t and you want—you want what you want and you know how to get it and I think that’s really cool and so I—Janus, I can’t breathe—“
He gasps as the hand leaves his chin, rubbing his neck a bit as Janus turns back to the painting. He’s quiet. 
“…I think you’re cool,” he mumbles lamely, “so I…made it.”
“And this is…for me?”
“Yes.”
“No strings attached?”
“No, no strings.” 
Janus turns to him again, hand raised to brush his chin and Roman does his best to stifle the flinch. He doesn’t grab him this time, just lifts it slightly so they can look each other in the eye. 
“Thank you, Roman,” Janus says after what feels like ages, “I like it.”
“Can you just say that next time?”
“Now where’s the fun in that?”
———
Remus. Remus, Remus, Remus. 
There’s really only one thing he can do. 
When he’s finished, he doesn’t bother to clean the paint from himself or snap himself back into his prince costume. He just sinks out to Remus’s room and tackles his brother to the bed. 
“What—Ro!” Remus shrieks in delight and tries to roll on top of him. “Ro-bro!”
“Hey, Re.” Roman doesn’t let him roll them, burying his head in Remus’s neck to make him laugh. “Got something to show you.”
“Imagination?”
“Nope. My room.”
“Ooh!”
Remus doesn’t bother to get up, just sinks them both back to Roman’s bed, almost crushing Roman into the mattress before he scrabbles up to hit him with a pillow. 
“Whoa, hey, hey, careful! You’ll knock it over!”
“Knock what—oh.”
Remus goes still. Roman pushes himself up carefully to see Remus staring in shock at the painting. 
A black and white landscape that looks like it’s black lines on paper, only for there to be a figure in the center with its hands dug into it. Out of the points of contact, wild colors spill out with reckless abandon, flooding the nearby whiteness until it almost hurts to look at. 
“R-ro?”
“Yeah?”
“’S that—that me?”
Roman smiles and sits up, hugging his brother as Remus clings to him. “Yeah, Re. That’s you. That’s how I see you.”
“‘M not just a mess?”
“You’re a mess and it’s glorious.” Roman glances back at the painting. “I think I just missed you.”
“Aw, Ro, I missed you too!”
Roman laughs as Remus tackles him back to the bed. “So you like it?”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes! If I could eat it, I would!”
“That’s the best compliment I could ever ask for.” He tries to move but Remus growls. “So you’re staying for a while, huh?”
“Yep. Put on a movie, we’re not going anywhere. My Ro-bro.”
Roman smiles and waves his hand to start a movie on his computer. Being Creativity with his brother is something he’ll never get tired of. 
———
“I must say,” Logan remarks as he steps back, “they all look as though they fit.”
“Yeah, right?” Virgil leans against the couch. “I’m never doubting Princey again, jeez.”
“They do look really good.” Patton shakes his head and takes a drink of water. “Do you think he planned it that way?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me.”
“I dunno, he said he did them kinda one after the other. Maybe he just sees us in a way that fits.”
They turn as Janus and Remus appear, each carrying their own paintings. Janus pauses as he lays his down to be hung up next. 
“…magnificent,” Logan murmurs, “aren’t they?”
Janus hums, eyes still roving over the paintings. “Why isn’t Thomas a painter if Roman can do this?”
“I presume it’s easier in the Mindscape than it would be to translate to Thomas’s hands.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Holy shit, J, that’s cool as fuck.”
“I know,” Janus preens, “it glows in the dark too.”
“Wait, for real? Lemme see!”
Patton flicks the light off and they all coo over the way Janus’s changes in the dark. 
“Oh my god, that’s so cool.”
“Thank you.” 
“Can it go next to mine? Spiders, strings, all that.”
“I don’t see why not.”
They quickly hoist Janus’s into place next to Virgil’s. Remus motions to the empty space next to Logan’s. “Can we put mine there?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Wait, let’s put it in between mine and yours, Logan,” Patton says, “the colors—“
“Yes, the colors.” Logan quickly shifts the two around. “Alright, Remus, let’s just—there.”
“These look so cool!” Patton claps his hands. “So, so, so cool!”
“What does?”
They all turn to look at Roman as he comes down the stairs, beaming and gesturing to their wall of paintings. Roman’s eyes widen as he sees all of their paintings hung up next to each other along one of the walls in the living room. 
“…whoa.”
“Be proud of yourself,” Logan says softly, “you did an incredible job.”
“They look great together,” Virgil agrees, “you’re a wizard.”
“Now all we need is yours,” Patton says as he throws an arm around Roman’s shoulders, “and we’ll be all done?”
Something in Roman’s chest grows cold. “…mine?”
“Well, yeah, you silly, how else are we going to have a complete set?”
“O-oh.” Roman shifts out from under his arm. “You don’t…you don’t want mine up there.”
Janus frowns. “Why not?”
“It’s, um, it doesn’t go.”
“Wait, you did one for yourself already?” Virgil perks up. “Can we see it?”
“It won’t go with the rest of them, it’s okay, I’ll just keep that one in my room—“
“Roman,” Logan interrupts gently, “can we see it?”
“I, um—“ he looks around to see everyone staring at him hopefully— “yeah, yeah, you can see it.”
He isn’t expecting all of them to hop up and gather like a gaggle of ducklings, but he turns and trudges wearily back up the stairs to his room. 
Don’t, a voice inside warns, don’t do this. You’ll ruin it. You’ll just ruin it. You said you weren’t going to do anything big and this is big. It’s selfish. Don’t make them look at it. Just lie and say you were wrong, say something, just don’t let them see. 
But he’s already at his door and Janus is looking at him strangely. 
“…what?”
“You were thinking about lying.”
“No, I wasn’t! Besides, you can’t hear that anyway.”
“No, I can’t, but you did just lie about not thinking about it.”
Fuck. Roman bites his lip and turns away, shame at being caught and tricked flushing his cheeks. He pushes open the door slightly harder than necessary and winces as it bangs against the wall. 
“Roman,” Patton says slowly, “if you really don’t want to show us—“
“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I just—“
“Well, just because it seems like you—“
“He’s being vulnerable,” Remus growls suddenly, “give him a second to figure out what that means.”
Roman closes his eyes and thanks every single hope and dream he’s ever had for Remus. 
When he’s gathered himself a bit more, he crosses the room to a canvas covered with a sheet and rests his hand on it. The fabric rubs against his fingers and he debates leaving it covered. He could say no. He could make something up. He could do a lot of things that aren’t showing them this painting. 
Aren’t showing them him. 
But then he looks back over to see all their expectant faces and he takes a deep breath. 
The sheet swishes as he pulls it free. 
———
A white canvas appears with an easel and Roman reaches for a brush. 
Because really, what has he done lately? He just causes problems. He shuts Logan out so he can’t say a damn thing when he’s the closest hope they have to actually getting somewhere. He pokes at Virgil just to make him snap back so he has an excuse for ebbing as sassy as he wants. He shores Patton up like he’s some great paragon of virtue and then throws a tantrum when he scolds him for doing so. He’s like a child throwing a hissy fit with Janus, always jumping and climbing the walls to try and get away from him like he doesn’t deserve the scorn and ridicule. 
And he treats Remus like he’s the worst thing to ever exist. 
The brush flies across the canvas and he splatters paint across himself. 
Why is he doing this, anyway? Is he doing this because he cares about them or only to make himself feel better? If he’s doing it for the latter, he might as well not do it at all. 
He reaches for another brush and red drips off the bristles. 
He shouldn’t be doing this, then, he should be doing something less selfish. Something better. Something that isn’t him. Or something that is him but is…better. 
Maybe he just needs to get it out. Get all the him out so that there won’t be anything left when he goes to paint the others. 
So he does. 
He paints and he paints and he paints. 
And when he steps back to see what he’s done, he falls to his knees and buries his face in his hands.
———
Roman turns away as soon as the painting is unveiled, folding the sheet to be put back in its place as the others let out little noises. 
He knows what they’re looking at. 
A crown, broken and mangled next to a rusted and bloodied blade. A hand lying limply next to it, fingertips rubbed red and raw, scratched and bruised with calluses split open. Fingers that reach toward the objects because they don’t know how to do anything else. Unlike the others, which veer much closer to abstract shapes and fantastical colors, this one is rendered faithfully to the grim tones of the possible. 
He doesn’t want them to see him and yet he’s never been more exposed. 
“Roman,” Logan says, softly, softly, too softly, “may I give you a hug?”
May he…what?
“Me too,” Patton says and oh, no, it sounds like he’s crying, “oh, sweetheart…”
“Come here, Roman,” Janus is bidding now and he feels himself begin to move before he stops and curls his arms closer to himself, “Roman, come here.”
“You’re scaring him, J,” comes Virgil’s voice, “you gotta let him have a second.”
Roman squeezes his eyes shut. 
“Ro,” Remus says from much closer, “I’m gonna put my arms around you now.”
Remus leans against him, warm and solid, and his arms wrap around his waist. He rests his forehead against the back of Roman’s neck and breathes in deeply. 
“Ro,” he mumbles, “you gotta…you gotta let me hug you more often.”
No. No, he doesn’t. 
“Don’t lie, sweetie,” Janus murmurs and he’s closer now too, “don’t lie and say you don’t need it. Let us hug you, please?”
Selfish. Selfish and stupid and needy. 
“You’re not,” he says, voice growing sharper, “you are not selfish for wanting to be comforted.”
“Oh, sweetheart—“ no, he’s made Patton upset— “come—come here, sweetheart, come here.”
“Don’t overwhelm him,” Virgil mumbles and oh, he’s closer too, “Princey, can you open your eyes?”
He shakes his head. 
“Okay. Can you listen to me?”
He nods. 
“You’re panicking. Let Remus just hold you, okay? We’re not going anywhere, we’re not gonna hurt you, but you gotta calm down.”
Remus is holding him. Remus is right here. Remus isn’t leaving. Remus squeezes him around the waist and tugs him down to the bed. Remus is here. Remus isn’t mad. 
Janus takes his hands in his gloved ones and starts to squeeze gently. Janus isn’t hurting him. Janus doesn’t seem mad either. Janus is here. 
Virgil is helping him breathe. Virgil told him to calm down. Virgil said they aren’t leaving. Virgil doesn’t seem to be mad. 
Logan has a hand on his back. Logan is warm. Logan isn’t mad either. Logan is talking softly to him and calling him dear one. Logan doesn’t do that when he’s mad. 
Patton must have turned off the lights. Patton cups his face and wipes away his tears. Patton is calling him sweetheart and Patton can’t be mad at him. Patton’s here. 
Roman opens his eyes slowly and realizes oh, I am panicking. 
Of course, as soon as he realizes it, he starts to hyperventilate in Patton’s hold and Remus quickly rolls them over so he can lean his whole weight on Roman’s chest. The deep pressure cuts through the worst of the haze until he can breathe again, gasping out that he’s sorry, he didn’t mean to be so dramatic, he really didn’t mean to—
“None of that, now,” Logan chides gently, “you’re upset and that’s alright. Take your time.”
Roman swallows painfully and Remus rubs his chest. 
“You’re going great, Ro-bro, you really are.”
“I’m—I’m sorry, I just—I didn’t realize you’d—that you’d want to see and I—I—“
“Hey, Princey, it’s okay.” Virgil runs a hand through his hair. “You’re just kinda fragile right now and that’s okay.”
“B-but you don’t like me fragile, I’m not supposed to be—“
“We like you,” Janus interrupts, squeezing his hand again, “and that means you get to be a bit of a mess about it.”
“Janus,” Patton scolds, “be nice.”
“That is him being nice, unfortunately.”
Remus just hunkers down so Roman can breathe easier again. “You’re doing great. You don’t have to figure everything out right now.”
“We can figure everything out with the paintings later,” Logan agrees, “for now, let us be here for you.”
Roman has no idea what’s going on anymore but Remus is warm and solid and heavy and Logan is being nice and soft and Janus is still holding his hands and Virgil is telling him how to breathe and Patton is drawing the curtains so some of the soft light of the sunset comes in and maybe—
Maybe this is okay for right now. 
———
(Later, Remus will quietly ask if that’s really how he sees himself. Roman might say nothing, but he might say yes.)
(Remus might politely call him a fucking idiot and tell him he looks like an explosion right when it’s happening and all you can see is light and feel the rush of energy through your body.)
(Logan might say that Roman is the whirl of electricity when you understand something for the first time and how it feels to see the dots connect in front of you.)
(Janus might say that Roman is the way you know your bed is going to be soft and warm at the end of a long cold day and you can’t wait to crawl into it.)
(Virgil might say that Roman is the buzz and bubble of excitement when you do something you thought you couldn’t for the first time.)
(Patton might say that Roman is the safety you feel when you’re out in a new place you don’t know and you find one friend that hovers by you the whole time in case you want someone to hug.)
(Roman might cry. Again.)
(And maybe he’ll be able to paint something that does finish the set with the others.)
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lemon-cheese-cake · 1 year
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There's not enough content about these two, but i can't get them out of my head so this is just me rambling about Varian and Thomas.
At 1st I wanted to state all the points that make Varian the 'okokok' and Thomas the 'lalalala', but i realized it's not that simple so yea these are just my humble observations, feel free to add anything or correct me :)
To start, i just wanted to say how much i love how the show portrayed the obvious differences between the two.
Varian is generaly the more rational one and Thomas is more layed back and less afraid. My poor Varian, he's a jumble of nerves really. He's constantly worried about how will everything turn out, how to help as many people as possible, but meanwhile he's forgetting about himself. He's afraid to loosen up (as we saw in ep.3 at the beggining of the party) and Thomas and Mary Jane know that.
This is where Thomas comes in. He knows Varian. He knows what works for him, when to leave him be and when to push.
No matter how Varian tries to hide his emotions, Thomas can (at least to a certain extent) tell. He's the only person who's holding Varian up in the crazy world of war and i don't want to imagine what Varian must have felt like when he left him.
Thomas is more layed back when it comes to their personal relationship. He isn't afraid of other people at the villa knowing about them (lets be honest, they all know). Varian is afraid of his feelings affecting his work, that's (one of the reasons) why he's pushing Thomas away.
Their thinking when it comes to work and - how Varian put it - their professional life, is also not exactly the same but i'll leave that to someone else cause that requiers more brain work :)
Anywho i hope that makes at least a tiny bit sense, im not used to making posts and sharing my thoughts, i usually just reblog :)
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natjennie · 5 months
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All my knowledge of ghosts comes from you so I have a question if that's okay!! If all the ghosts come from the house then how is the cave person (robin? I think) part of the crew :0c
Hope your tummy feels better soon 💖
tysm, I am feeling a little better today I think <3
but yeah that's actually a great question! so the rules the ghosts follow as explained in the show are inconsistent and confusing, even for the ghosts themselves, as shown in "a lot to take in" when julian (90's politician) has just died and can sit on a chair but also walk through it and thomas (regency poet) says "yes, it doesn't make sense, does it?" so just know that even the show itself recognizes that the lore is nonsensical.
but yeah "you stays where you dies" "and how you dies- died!" "it's your classic haunted house" is basically the number one rule, so for the ghosts that came before the house was built, namely robin (the caveman), the plagues (plague pit), and mary (burned at the stake), are tethered to the land rather than the house. even for those that died after the house was built, pat (scout leader) died outside of the house on the grounds, for example.
there's a whole bit in uhh the exact episode escapes me, but there's a bit where mary and robin act as sort of lawyers trying to insist that alison owes them because technically she's living on their land, and the land came before the house, so it should belong to them. so even they are sort of unclear on the distinction between the land and the house.
the exact boundaries on their roaming aren't ironed out totally either, julian who died the most recently tried to leave the grounds through a main gate and kept getting sort of teleported back, and cap (the captain. you know him.) remarks that "we've all done it" and robin jovially counts how many time julian attempts this, implying that the other ghosts have all similarly tried to leave the grounds. but the exact point that stops them might be different for each ghost? I have no idea. robin goes into the woods a lot more frequently than anyone else, howling for the neighbor's dogs and such. so his like. haunting radius might be bigger than the others??
but then, you have to consider the fact that, in s5, when alison is considering selling a chunk of the estate, fanny (edwardian noble lady), is all in a tizzy about losing some of their precious grounds. captain talks about how he likes to walk around the part they're planning to sell, but kitty (burgundy dress, hair feather), says that they still would be able to. and cap says "the afterlife isn't bound by freehold agreements" so???? what the fuck is it bound by then bestie???
I even have a wip of a fanfic idea going that considers this, imagining that they are connected to the physical land like the soil rather than anything, so if alison digs up a chunk of dirt they can follow her sort of on a leash outside the bounds of the house. why not?
anyway. long story short. it's a really good question. and I don't have a satisfying answer. the simple version is that they're all sort of loosely bound to the button house grounds, even the handful that came before the physical house. but the details of that connection are a shoulder shrug at best. even within the fiction of the show, they don't really know. so. that's the best I can do for you.
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doberbutts · 1 year
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I hope you don't mind me speaking about the "Christian Atheists" comment, as someone who follows several of the people who've been hounded by this discourse.
The reason that term got used in the first place was meant as shorthand for atheists who have a more Christian framework for atheism because those specific types of atheists were harassing Jewish atheists and saying that the Jewish framework for atheism - which is different than the general Christian cultural idea of atheism where it is perfectly secular - doesn't count and that they were still religiously Jewish if they didn't renounce their cultural practices and switch to "secular" holidays like Christmas/stop going to synagogue for community-building reasons. And while the term itself isn't great and I'm not excusing that and any hurt, I think it got taken entirely out of context. It was being used to point out that 1. Jewish atheism is not the same type of atheism as that of ex-Christians because of how Judaism as a religion and culture functions and 2. to point out the hypocrisy the atheists harassing Jewish people on here were showing by saying that only their version of atheism was true atheism.
Essentially, they were being told they were the ones who were secretly still religious and were trying to point out by using the term how unfair that would be to say of them as well as how that feels like an aspect of Christian universalism holding over, "You need to assimilate and THEN you can be a secular atheist like me."
Idk. It just got out of hand when people started losing the context that this discourse only blew up so badly because ex-Christian atheists were using their religious trauma to harass Jews trying to talk about a broader social issue and wouldn't take "this isn't about you specifically and if the conversation upsets you you don't have to participate" as an answer.
Christian Atheist comment anon again. I also just would like to point out that everyone I've seen use the term or anything similar (that wasn't just being an asshole because I did see some of that as well) has explicitly said, multiple times that they do not think that ex-Christian atheists are still functionally Christian, cannot get rid of that aspect of themselves, etc. Like, I've seen them have to say over and over and over again that they do not think that and it's repeatedly been the pissed off atheists (specifically the ones denying the existence of cultural Christianity at all) putting those words in their mouths and they've been having to beg to be heard when they say that's not what culturally Christian means nor what it means to have an ex-Christian framework of atheism. Just that being ex-Christian creates a different kind of atheism than Jewish atheism because of how Christianity views culture and "Christian Atheism" turned into an unfortunate shorthand because of how often they were having to explain this.
Unfortunately I believe it's escaped containment, because while I have seen this being used this way, I've also seen it being used in the way I just described as well.
As said, I have seen the bad behavior of athiests (usually formerly Christian or raised in Christian families) harassing people of other religions than Christianity due to their own religious trauma stemming directly from the Christian church. And I think it's wrong, to be clear. Religion and culture are closely intertwined and not only do I think it's wrong to say "believing in religion is morally wrong" but I think it's ridiculous to close your understanding of religion to just how Christianity does it, because Christianity itself is a huge spectrum from "goes to church on Sunday and prays before meals" to "electricity is the devil and thomas edison was a witch" and "wouldn't be able to pick them out of a crowd of people" to "strict dress code which must be adhered to at all times Or You Are A Filthy Slut"
Often this narrow understanding of the world's religions comes directly from a rejection of the dominant religion in this country (ie, Christianity) and because that's many people's only exposure to organized religion you'll often get statements like "personal religion is fine but organized religion is always bad" and "religious leaders are always corrupt and pull strings behind the scenes and secretly run the world" which has some uhhhhhhhh really not so great implications when they're applied to more than "I'm angry that Christianity has done what it has to the world as a whole".
Unfortunately the post that pissed me off was one that used the term in a completely different manner, talking about how "non-practicing Christians aka Christian Athiests are still Christian at heart" because that's how it works for other religions (non-practicing Jewish people are still Jewish, etc) and how saying otherwise misunderstands the way that culture and religion hooks together. But that statement in and of itself misunderstands Christianity, because "Christian" isn't an ethnicity and while some things can be called "Christian culture" on a broad scale, again because "Christian culture" can vary so widely it becomes a question of just how non-practicing does one need to be before they're allowed to say they're no longer Christian at all? Do they need to not have been born in a Christian-dominant country? Do they need to have been born to non-Christian parents? How many generations away from Christian parentage are we considering far enough from "non-practicing Christian athiests" before they lose the "Christian" label?
So again I ask, with that logic, doesn't that make everyone who lives in a country that has government mandated Christian holidays and expectations to have Sundays off and legislature that's tied very closely to Christian interpretation and has words like "Jeez" and "Goodbye" and "BC vs AD" and the Gregorian calendar "culturally Christian"... or is this something that's only being applied to athiests and ex-Christians who haven't yet converted to a religion that Christianity is actively antagonistic towards? Would you call my friends Christian Jewish, Christian Muslim, Christian Pagan for practicing the Christian culture of enjoying their Sundays off, giving gifts on Christmas, and telling me "goodbye" when we part? If not, then why are we surprised that athiests, especially ex-Christian athiests, don't love the implications of the label when it's being used this way?
And, if the answer is yes, then understand that by definition you're grouping people who have deep, generational religious trauma (the indigenous and black populations I previously mentioned) with the very people who used the religion that traumatized them as an attempt to commit genocide.
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mshroom1e · 1 year
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Hi♡ it's my first time making a request but first of all how do you feel lately? I do really hope you are good! I don't know if you still take any request but I wanted to request (if you want to) a story between a fem reader and Thoma who doesn't know how to cook :)
The reader doesn't know how much condiments to put,the proportion and its getting her mad not knowing that 😂
I mean something fluffy and happy a Thoma that stay with the reader teaching them how to cook ♡
Thank you so much again for reading and have a lovely day/night ♡
Yes. I love this plot so much honestly. I got a little carried away while writing so I hope it isn't nonsense that I'm about to post. I hope you have a wonderful day/night too!! Thank you!♡♡
quick a/n: I know it's meant to be fem! reader, but there really wasn't any need for using pronouns or anything since it's just moments between the reader and Thoma. [Name] is intended to be fem but can be read as gn too. I hope you enjoy!!
Stir and Mix | Thoma x Fem! Reader
type: fanfic
Summary: You suck at cooking. Not much else to say except the phrase, 'let him cook' can't be applied to you. Hopefully Thoma can help you with that problem.
1.6k words
Warning(s): nothing other than [Name]'s radioactive cooking.
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"It's a start..." Thoma gave you a stiff smile, trying his best not to grimace.
On a plate in front of him sat what could only be described as an absolute abomination. Thoma had gotten sick and you took it upon yourself to try and make something for him to eat. Emphasis on the 'try'.
It was safe to say that cooking had never been your speciality. You were one of those people who had the ability to burn water by complete accident.
Thoma sighed, shaking his head lightly. He found it endearing that you put in so much effort to make him something, however, it usually ended up in him having to clean up after you without your knowledge, but he never told you or complained about it.
You were kind of proud of your work, and seeing Thoma's tense expression made your shoulders drop a little. This time, you were sure you thoroughly followed the recipe, but it's the thought that counts ig.
"It's a very good first try at making uh..." for the life of him, he couldn't tell what the dish even was.
"It's curry."
"Right."
"..."
"Why is it purple...?"
"Don't ask."
- A few hours ago -
"Leave it to me!" You grinned, pointing at your chest with your thumb.
"How about I do it once I get better?" Thoma protested, trying to get out of the bed you practically tossed him in before letting out a loud sneeze.
"But you're sick and you need to rest. Besides, you work too much." You pushed him by a hand on his chest, his back hitting the soft mattress with a little 'thump'.
"But it's just a light cold. It'll go away in a day."
"Rest."
There was then silence followed by a staring contest and Thoma blinked first, making you the winner of this argument.
He signed with a soft smile, "I really can't win against you. Can I?"
"Don't worry and just relax. I'm actually great at cooking, you know? I'll have something made in no time. Easy peasy."
Usually, Thoma was the one to do all the cooking while you would help him with cutting the vegetables or washing dishes and whatnot. He never let you near a stove after the incident where you accidentally gave poor Ayaka food poisoning when she offered to try one of your dishes.
You almost triggered a national conflict just with a plate of poorly cooked katsudon.
Despite your confidence, Thoma wasn't convinced and gave you a sceptical look, making you turn your head to the side as your cheeks grew warm.
"Fine, just please don't risk someone's health like last time..."
-
A rush of confidence ran through your veins. You were prepared. With a cookbook and all.
So here you were, in the kitchen of your shared home while Thoma was sleeping. Of course, for you to be able to even step in the vicinity of the stove, your significant other had to be unconscious. Out cold. Or else he would be anxiously pacing somewhere else in the house, hoping you didn't set his kitchen on fire.
Sounds of paper flickering filled the room as you looked for a recipe that would help someone with a light cold. A recipe for "simple, foolproof curry" caught your eye. The long list of vegetables and other healthy-sounding ingredients caught your attention rather easily, so you settled for it. You already had all the ingredients that you would need, well, kind of.
The recipe included beef, but you decided to use chicken instead since it was a healthier meat and added it into your cauldron- uh, I mean pot. It said to cook the onions until tender but never specified how, so you settled for boiling them whole. Next was to stir in garlic, ginger and grated apple into a pot. There were no apples in the kitchen so you chose a banana and an orange instead as they were under the same family as apples, in your opinion, and had potassium and vitamin c to help the immune system. The more fruit, the better, right? (this is incorrect. I do not condone this behaviour).
The recipe asked for flour, but you couldn't find where Thoma hid it so you added bread since they were technically the same thing. The last step said to add tomato paste, carrots, potatoes and other vegetables of your choice.
You then covered the pot and let the dish cook.
About an hour later, a toxic smell that you translated to be the delicious smell of your cooking wafted through the air. It seemed to wake Thoma up as a loud thud came from the bedroom as if he fell off the bed.
Opening the pot with a huge grin, you admired your creation.
Bubbles similar to what could be assumed to be from a witch's cauldron rose to the top of the concoction. Dead-looking vegetables and whole onions floated around the surface like dead fish in a lake. The pot screamed despair and bloody murder. Literal green fumes danced around and warped outside of the pot. A strange purple colour was blended in with the natural brown of the curry. Bits of banana and orange looked like they had been through seven archon wars as they seemed to be clawing at the metal of the pot, alive and begging to be let out of the putrid puddle that was your cooking. It deserved to be thrown away by waste control. Buried where no lifeforms could make contact with it. Encased in Liyuen amber for the safety of the public.
"Leave it to me," You said.
"I'm actually great at cooking," You said.
It was all a lie. Everything was a lie.
Thoma walked into the room with a diabolically flabbergasted expression on his face. When he made eye contact with you, he tried to play it off like he was yawning but his sweating and stiff face gave it away.
-
A few days later after Thoma finally got better, he decided to hold a small cooking class for you.
The first thing he would teach you to make was bread.
"The ingredients aren't too complicated and neither are the steps. It just needs a little patience," Thoma reassured you while gently holding both of your hands.
"I'll try my best," You returned, enthusiastic and confident.
Thoma laughed as you sneezed from inhaling flour while you poured some of it on the tabletop.
"Careful," he chucked.
Then, you 'accidentally' let some flour get onto his sleeve.
"Whoops," You replied, sticking your tongue out at him.
"[Name]..." He got closer to you, making your heart act funny.
Suddenly, your cheek was smeared with a layer of flour and you gasped. That sneaky sneaker.
Thoma mimicked you and stuck his tongue out at you, making you laugh at his antics.
After a few more of your shenanigans, you completed the dough and tossed it in the oven. You definitely, surely 100% weren't drooling over Thoma as you watched him mix and kneed the dough. Why would you ever even think that?
Soon, your confidence deflated after your first cooking lesson ended. Your loaf of bread looked dreadful and wrinkly, and even more so when compared to the fluffy goodness that Thoma put together.
You took off your apron with a frustrated sigh, "This really isn't working. I'm sure I did everything right too..."
"Maybe it was just your way of kneading the dough? It's quite difficult to master, especially on your first try," Thoma gently rubbed your back with a gentle smile on his face.
"But you said it was easy," You groaned.
"Then maybe I'm not the best teacher," he stifled a laugh at your pouty expression and puffed out cheeks, "Let's try another recipe tomorrow."
"Okay..."
-
The results were the same the next day, the day after that, and the day after that. Everything you made was diabolical. Sure, you were improving slowly with Thoma's tips but not enough for you to not get irritated at your still present lack of skill.
Thoma was patient with you throughout, cheering you on to the best of his ability and always trying to help you in whatever way he could.
You hoped today would be different. A new and determined glint in your eyes shined brightly as you walked into the kitchen with fire in your step.
"Let's do this. Again"
Thoma decided on a Mondstat staple, Mondstadt Hash Browns. He gave you instructions on what to do while he watched your technique and made sure everything was right.
You added the ingredients in the way that you were instructed, abandoning your own little additions that usually resulted in catastrophies and disaster. The potatoes were the correct texture, the outside was crispy, the broccoli was steamed to perfection, and everything looked great.
Now, all that was left was for your instuctor, Thoma, to sample the dish. You watched in anticipation as he took a section of a hash brown, the crispy outside giving a satisfying 'crunch' upon his bite. He slowly chewed, savouring the flavour as his eyes lit up with surprise.
"It- It tastes amazing!"
"Really?!" You practically squeaked.
"Yeah!" Thoma smiled and handed you a piece to try yourself. He was right. It tasted wonderful.
Your cooking was edible. And it tasted amazing on top of that. You laughed, way happier than you should've been before picking Thoma up by his waist and twirling around the small dining area, causing him to laugh along with you.
To someone on the outside, it would look like the pair of you were getting overexcited over such a little thing, but you were both so proud of your achievement. Maybe you weren't so bad at cooking after all.
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pancake-breakfast · 11 months
Text
I could sleep. I could play video games. Or I could Trigun Bookclub.
Trigun Bookclub it is.
Stream-of-consciousness thoughts for Trigun Vol. 1, Chapters 9-10 below. (More detailed thoughts will be their own posts.)
Chapter 9: Between Wasteland and Sky...
I love that the girls actually comment on how hot and uncomfortable those suits were.
Meryl is right; this is very non-standard for an insurance agent. It's even pushing it for a reporter.
Howwwww does Prada even exist out here?? How did they manage to transfer name brands this far away?? Did Mr. Prada (I know almost nothing about Prada) buy himself a cryogenic stasis chamber on one of the ships??? Where are they getting the materials? Why are they getting the materials?? Are they just... made out of Thomas leather??? I HAVE QUESTIONS.
Please apply the previous point to Gucci, and Fendi....
I don't have anything in particular to say about it, but I do like the title page spread.
Ok, what's going on with the proportions on this page. First, Katie only comes up to Vash's waist, and then she's a little below shoulder height when he's only barely slouching? Dude.
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I think she asks a legitimate question about the functioning of his pain receptors.
Letting a plant overload is bad. Letting a Plant overload is worse.
My dude Mr. Hat Guy. You recognize the blueprints are valuable. Do NOT step on them! Rude.
Honestly, this shows a lot of maturity from Katie. Even if one is working to make things right, there are still consequences one must accept. And Vash... he seems to accept her decisions in this. Or maybe empathize with them, but I'm getting ahead of things.
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I like this guy peeking around the text bubble.
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Plant reveal! Though I feel like Vash's line might be misinterpreted to be referring to Katie instead of our new bubble lady friend.
I wonder if Plants are really ever in control. They're already century-old tech that (almost) no one understands, and so they're not really controlled so much as maintained.
Yep, hitting the angel imagery HARD in the manga.
Oooh, she's getting sparkly.
Vash is trying to help, but the fact that he just jumped into things and is like, "You guys do stuff while I take care of something that no one else knows how to take care of," is just creating confusion.
Plant lady is NOT happy....
Oh, these pages are beautiful. I love how calm yet determined Vash is as he approaches her. I love his wings showing, clearly for the reader's sake and not as something anyone around them can see. I love their hands mirroring each other on the glass. I love the way her expression changes from this...
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...to this:
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Putting the "dead" in "deadline" here, aren't we?
TBH, I LOVE that they gave taking care of the heat valve to Wolfwood in Stampede. I mean, I know he hasn't even shown up yet here in the manga, but having him show up sooner and then push his way through the people to handle it on his own really drives home both how much he's changed from being a "normal" human and how much he's willing to go through for a chance at protecting the orphanage. The... uh... the orphanage that isn't in this scene, either. Because different timelines.
Ok, I can't tell what the heck happened with the steamer. I'm glad I've seen the anime.
Aww, they're both all beat up. But now that Katie is awake, Vash's expression goes from serious to smiling.
Ohhhh, there's what happened with the steamer.
I like that Neon may not like Vash, but now, at least, he respects him.
I love this wide shot. Like, it may be nothing but barren wasteland, but Katie's pose is determined, and the sun has risen over the horizon. There's a lot of hope in it.
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Can't not have music be part of the world in Trigun. It's very important. For real. Goes hand in hand with hope.
Hahahaha, Katie getting all defensive. Don't worry. Vash likes the tune, too.
He looks so flustered....
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I love the arc coming full circle here with him once again thinking about Rem and why people keep living in spite of everything.
Of course that would make him tear up. And... of course Katie would misinterpret it an take offense. And Vash probably won't explain, because it's complicated and a permanent raw spot in his heart.
It may have arrived two days late, but it ARRIVED.
Chapter 10: Little Arcadia
Huh, I'd heard that this was originally three volumes instead of two. This must be the original volume break.
Ah, Milly and her giant family. Of which she's the youngest. Of course.
Staying up all night writing? No, I can't relate to that at all, why do you ask...
Awww, I love that her family adores her letters.
Good hell. That packet of letters she has is a BRICK.
LOL, Meryl not knowing what to write aside from, "It's dry." Girl. Your life is CRAZY. Tell them about that. Or just tell them about the mundane things, if you don't want them to worry. You can do it. I believe in you.
Oop, Vash's fangs are showing. Why ya gotta get him all flustered like that?
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No wonder he's stressed. I'd be stressed if people were using me as a human shield while hurling insults at a gunman, too.
Don't put your finger on the trigger unless you're gonna shoot. That's Guns 101, Mr. Emo Gunman.
Bwa?! Sudden Insurance Girl Attack! x2!
This guy...
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I love how Meryl is shouting technically true stuff about how dangerous Vash is while Vash himself is looking pathetic AF. I'm sure he's LOVING everything she's saying about how dangerous he is, too....
Yes, indeed, Old People. Meryl and Milly are definitely... different.
Poor Vash just hiding and gibbering in the bottom of the panel...
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Vash may have soup brain, but Milly has ice cream brain. Which I guess is still a kind of soup if you put enough toppings in it and then let it melt for a bit.
"It's nothing really." Yep. Nothing. It just increases their frequency of getting into life-or-death situations and has them constantly having to do their best to mitigate both their charge (who is VERY good at both trouble and sneaking) and other people who aren't positively inclined toward their charge (understandable, but also it's a misunderstanding). NBD.
I like how, for once, Milly and Meryl are being propositioned for bodyguard work instead of Vash.
Aaaand now they're asking Vash.
That risk prevention policy sounds handy. I bet you can slide a lot of usually-unauthorized behavior under there.
Uhhhh... I feel like I should be extra-concerned about something if Vash is concerned about it.
Trees!
I do hope they find a way to weave this story into Stampede...
Plants (lower-case) belong to the people. PLANTS BELONG TO THE PEOPLE!!! Naturally.
Vash probably is genuinely impressed by all this.
That's it. That's the point of the story. That's what Vash is constantly trying to do. And biblically, something something mustard seed growing from being tiny-tiny to something huge and bountiful.
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Ooh, rejecting people looking at the picture of his family. There's a story there. Especially considering that this chapter started with Milly writing letters to her own family.
Oh, gods. More Nebraskas....
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realm-of-rosie · 1 year
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💭 i love you from the bottom of my hypothalamus !!
i. genshin impact [ thoma and one aspect of pseudopsychology - tarot readings ]
ii. blog rules | masterlist
iii. *turns being a psych student into my entire personality*
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"you know, yoimiya, in the professional world, people would call that pseudopsychology,"
''well then, it's a good thing we aren't in the 'professional world' then,''
i sigh softly before turning to face her, '' regardless of whether or not we're in the professional world, i don't believe in things like that anyway! tarot readings are fun, i'll admit, but that's all it'll be to me, some good fun, not so much as something concrete to believe in."
''hey, don't pretend it didn't make you feel even slightly hopeful, '' the blonde shakes her finger at me, '' that reading was scarily accurate, and you know that just as well as i,''
''accuracy doesn't mean anything! people who do readings sometimes make things up to fit whatever you want to hear,''
yoimiya lets out the most offended gasp accompanied by a hand over her heart, ''mona would never!''
''uh huh,'' i hum monotonously in sarcastic agreement before rapping my knuckles against the doors of our next class hoping that that was the end of the conversation.
''isn't it fun to think that maybe they like you back?''
''yoimiya -'' my head turns to face her.
''who likes who back?''
then i freeze, just about ready to smack the stupid smile off of yoimiya's face.
''someone and no one,'' i face and smile sweetly at the man who opened the door and now stood watching us.
''ooh, do you have a crush on someone? '' thoma asks teasingly, '' name drop?''
''at this point in my life, i am incapable of feeling anything, so to answer your question, no i do not have a crush on someone,''
my eyes drop to stare at the ground and his stupidly shiny black shoes before i brush past him with yoimiya following closely behind and plopping down onto my seat with a deep sigh.
''don't take what mona said to heart - '' thoma sits in the seat in front of me and twists his body to meet my eyes, '' - really, it's -''
''i know that,'' i frown, ''yoimiya is the one that doesn't want to drop it,''
''well, what if?" yoimiya plops next to thoma, attempting to casually tilt her head in his direction and clearing her throat and looking away when he looks at her questioningly.
"what if we studied for our quiz?" you lift the syllabus from your bag and yoimiya lets out an exaggerated gasp before darting towards her own bag.
"you know," thoma starts quietly, "it's not a crime to think or want for the person you like to like you back, i mean, i do,"
you meet his gaze, cogs turning in your head and you wonder if you're meant to take anything he says to heart. whether there's something between the lines to read or if you're simply overanalyzing it for what it actually is.
"i know that," you say just as quietly, a small smile playing on your lips, "i mean, emotions and feelings are meant to be felt and experienced, i just don't know if these ones are worth investing in,"
"well, you'll never know unless you ask or do something about them," he shrugs, "tell me, what do you have to lose if you tell that someone how you feel?"
quite a few things actually, you think to yourself, things i value very much.
"think about it," thoma leans back and slowly faces forward, "but at the end of the day, they're your feelings and you get to decide what to do with them and how valuable they are to you,"
"...thanks thoma,"
"hey, do yo remember what our prof said about..." yoimiya's questions filter in and out of your ears, and you answer them mindlessly, thoughts filled more about what thoma said than the parts of the brain and what they function as. your blonde best friend's squeak of surprise when your professor entered pulled you back into reality and without thinking - or rather with the minimal amount of thinking you could have made before making your decision - you tap thoma on the shoulder, and he turns towards you with curious eyes.
"i thought about what you said,"
"that quickly?" he asks teasingly.
"yeah," you begin to smile widely, "and i think i like you, from the bottom of my hypothalamus,"
you're pretty sure yoimiya's mouth has dropped to floor and her eyes are probably as wide as basketballs, but all that mattered to you was the relief that passed through thoma's face, and the look in his eyes that reassured you that he felt the exact same way.
"me too," he grins, and you think that hey, maybe pseudopsych has a little credibility to it.
just a little.
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