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#probably will post a follow up post some day?
sharlsworld · 2 days
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a digital love letter - ʟɴ4 ☆
✿ lando norris x influencer!reader
✿ a glimpse of all the post’s from when they were “just friends”, to there engagement announcement, to the announcement of there first child.
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june 1st, 2020
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liked by alex_albon and 83,924 others
lando.jpg when i asked y/n if she wanted to quarantine with me i didn’t think it would be this long…
yn if you ask me to make one more batch of cloud bread i will lock you outside
⤷ lando.jpg well that’s awfully rude considering i offered you my home
⤷ yn you literally begged me to quarantine with you???
⤷ lando.jpg no need for the details
maxfewtrell couple goals
⤷ lando.jpg fuck off
hearts4lando “just friends” ok buddy 😭
beloved.hamilton just a COUPLE of friends!😄
charles_leclerc i think this quarantine has got your mind all mixed up cause…
lilac.leclerc there so oblivious 😭
f1wags i smell…a incoming wag 👀
———
august 10th, 2020
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liked by georgerussell63 and 984,118 others
lando.jpg took my girl to dinner and let her go shopping for her birthday…never again. she really knows how to spend money
carlossainz55 “my girl” ???
⤷ lando.jpg is she not my girl? she never leaves me alone
⤷ yn you give off this tough guy act like you don’t ask me to hangout every day
⤷ lando.jpg once again, no need for all the details jeez women
landolovesyn it’s the fact she literally makes so much money but he still wants to pay for her stuff really tugs on my heart strings 😪
sharls_lerklerk PAINFULLY OBLIVIOUS
pierregasly cmon mate
⤷ lando.jpg what?
landolovesyn Heather 🤩
———
january 1st, 2021
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liked by charles_leclerc and 1,746,023 others
lando.jpg happy new year bitches 🥳
yn been waitin for this one
⤷ georgerussell63 We all have
⤷ alex_albon seriously everyone
⤷ carlossainz55 Seriously
danielricciardo Took you guys long enough
⤷ yn 1 year is a reasonable amount of time
maxfewtrell NO PHOTO CREDIT?
⤷ lando.jpg no
lilymhe sooo when’s the wedding?
⤷ alex_albon watch they’ll probably get engaged this year
♥︎ by author
ynissocutiepatootie IT FINALLY HAPPENED
lovely_leclerc stop he took her to see the lights 😢
daddyricciardo i wonder how long they’ve been dating before deciding to go public
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april 14th, 2021
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liked by yukitsunoda05211 and 824,722 others
lando.jpg i was feeling a little down today, but you DEFINITELY turned me on
yn can i help loosen your belt? it looks really tight 😉
⤷ lando.jpg you’ll never catch me saying no to that baby 😏
charles_leclerc Oh come on there’s children on this app lando
carlossainz55 I just opened the app mate
maxverstappen1 Well enough instagram for the day
georgerussell63 I could’ve lived the rest of my life without seeing this
⤷ lando.jpg don’t be hating
estiebestie lando is just a horny teenage boy honestly
♥︎ by yn
landowantsrizz i feel like i’m interrupting something…
hoeforsianzzz so there definitely getting down every night
♥︎ by author & yn
⤷ lilac.leclerc HELLO??? THESE BITCHES MUST BE GETTING DOWN LIKE BUNNIES
———
october 22nd, 2021
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liked by lewishamilton and 7,824,023 others
lando.jpg i couldn’t wait any longer
yn so impatient
⤷ lando.jpg i just couldn’t wait to call you my wife
⤷ yn good thing i said yes then
carlossainz55 Congratulations mate! 🎉🥂
♥︎ by author
lewishamilton Congrats man that’s amazing ♥️
♥︎ by author
maxverstappen1 Congrats bro ♥️
♥︎ by author
lilymhe the gold band 😨
⤷ yn ikr i was flabbergasted
♥︎ by author
charles_leclerc Congrats lando! ❤️
♥︎ by author
danielricciardo Let’s go boys 🥳
♥︎ by author
oscarpiastri Congratulations mate, i’m so happy for you 🧡
⤷ lando.jpg 🧡
maxfewtrell little lando norris finally grew some balls
⤷ lando.jpg i can never win 💔
mclaren To forever! 🧡
♥︎ by author
alex_albon i called it
♥︎ by author
landolovesyn the fact this has 7 million likes and he doesn’t have 7 million followers on this account 😭
lando.norizz THE GOLD BAND? LANDO NORRIS YOU’VE OUTDONE YOURSELF
sharls_lerklerk been here since the video of her accidentally dropping her hydroflask on his foot at one of the races in 2019😭
⤷ lando.jpg i still have the tiny scar on my little toe
———
january 1st, 2022
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liked by oscarpiastri and 792,614 others
lando.jpg happy new year bitches 👀
yn happy new year whore
⤷ carlossainz55 and to think you two are getting married soon…
charles_leclerc Oh thanks mate
⤷ lando.jpg i wasn’t talking to you
⤷ charles_leclerc Alrighty…
georgerussell63 This was such a elegant, mature post, until i saw the caption
⤷ lando.jpg you shouldn’t be surprised
landolovesyn literally all of his posts are about y/n
⤷ hearts4lando basically a fan page
estiebestie i’ll never get tired of seeing lando’s posts for y/n
carlando there relationship is so perfect
lilymhe don’t think just because you two are getting married that she’s yours
⤷ lando.jpg take the L 🤣
———
october 22nd, 2022
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liked by lewishamilton and 28,942,861 others
lando.jpg My greatest love, you are my one and only. From the day you dropped your hydroflask on my foot and laughed until you were crying I knew you were gonna be mine one day, I can’t think of anyone better to spend eternity with. In every universe, I will find you. When death takes my hand, I will hold you with the other, and promise to find you in every lifetime. I love you for everything you are, everything you have been, and everything you will be. You are my destiny, I love you endlessly. ♥️
yn ok…i’m literally sobbing right now i love you so much lando
⤷ lando.jpg i love you the most
danielricciardo Turned on auto caps for this one congrats man i’m so happy of you ♥️
♥︎ by author
lewishamilton I wish you two a lifetime of happiness and health ♥️
♥︎ by author
carlossainz55 To a lifetime of bullying each other! ♥️
♥︎ by author
charles_leclerc Little lando norris isn’t so little anymore? 😂 Congratulations man ♥️
♥︎ by author
mclaren Congratulations lando & y/n! 🧡
♥︎ by author & yn
landolovesyn y/n norris 🥹
lando.norizz crying in the club
lilymhe she was mine first.
⤷ lando.jpg not even
lilymhe congratulations, i guess ♥️
♥︎ by author
alex_albon Congratulations lando ♥️
♥︎ by author
georgerussell63 Can’t believe how far you’ve came mate! Congratulations ♥️
♥︎ by author
francisca.cgomes such a beautiful wedding…should’ve been me and y/n’s but still! ♥️
♥︎ by author
carmenmmundt Congratulations ♥️
♥︎ by author
———
february 29th, 2024
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liked by maxverstappen1 and 10,523,792 others
lando.jpg Mathéo Lee Norris. 2.10.23 ♥️
comments for this post have been limited
yn my boy 🤍 i love you lan
⤷ lando.jpg i love you the most baby
lilymhe cutest baby boy 💙
♥︎ by author & yn
charles_leclerc I bet he misses his favorite uncle already
⤷ carlossainz55 excuse me?
⤷ charles_leclerc your excused
⤷ maxfewtrell cmon guys, obviously i’m the favorite uncle
⤷ charles_leclerc no
alexandrasaintmleux cutie boy 💙
♥︎ by author & yn
carmenmmundt Mathéo is the cutest 🥰
♥︎ by author & yn
lewishamilton A gift from God ♥️
♥︎ by author & yn
alex_albon bro has more hair then me
♥︎ by author & yn
———
march 26th, 2024
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liked by carlossainz55 and 19,982,713 others
lando.jpg a digital love letter for you, the light of my life. my life long treasure of destiny. you are the greatest gift God has blessed me with. i love you endlessly ♥️
comments for this post have been limited
yn you sweet talker, i love you lan 🤍
⤷ lando.jpg i love you the most baby 🤍
landolovesyn guys…this might be heather
♥︎ by author
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shapard · 23 hours
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Albino Snake🐍
Lucifer x Human!fem!reader
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Alastor kinda reminds me of Dr. Facilier
A/n: I want to cry. I accidentally posted this🥲
You found a cute little albino snake. You named him Apple.
Soft Lucifer
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Part 1 > Part 2
You love your home New Orleans.
The streets are filled with jazz and Happy people dancing around. It brought a smile up of your face.
It’s been so long when the streets were this filled. A big number of murders started to rise in New Orleans. Everybody stayed at home, especially you. 
News spread quickly that the Series Killer got killed by a hunter. The Hunter thought he was a deer and gave him a shot right in the middle of his skull.
The days that were cold and dull started to gain color again. And your live just became more stressful. 
Back to two jobs and a small apartment.
You worked in two Restaurants only to fulfill your dream. You want to live that dream you and you father talked about from morning to dawn. Sadly, he’ll not be able to see you reach this dream.
You’re almost there, just a couple more shifts. Just a few weeks of hard work.
You groaned when your alarm clock started ringing in your ear. Exhausted you pressed your hand onto the alarm.
You yawned and stretched your body; a small cracking sound emits from your bone, and you sigh in relief. 
“Next shift here I come!” 
As usual people side eyed you when you past them with a tray of food. Working in gastronomy is hard.
Terrible chef, terrible co-workers and even worse the customers. Your chief always tormented you that you'll never reach that dream. That it was useless. You are born poor and you stay poor, especially for a woman.
But that never lets you down. Then you'll be the first woman who'll reach the top without marrying off to a rich man.
The ring bell tuned, and your rich friend Charlotte and her father walked happily into the small business.
Charlotte smiled brightly at you when she saw you. “Y/n! There you are! I have an important question to ask you.” You laughed softly at her antics. she always was always so outgoing and a bright soul. 
“Of course.” Charlotte squealed and was quick to grab her father's purse. “Do you think you can make some beignets? You’ll get paid off, of course.” Without even waiting for your answer, she pushed couple hundred dollars into your chest and ran out of the store without even touching the beignets. 
Charlotte already paid and it wasn't rare that this happens. All your attention was now on the money in your hand. 
With this money it’s more than enough to buy the restaurant you and your father always dreamed about.
Soft tears pearled down on your face and your boss mouth was wide open in shock. “Huh… Wait… WHAT?!” 
When you shift was done you were quick to make a visit to the former sugar farmhouse.
The house was pretty worn down but that didn’t hold you back. You swung around the house humming a soft tune as you imagined how the place will look in the future.
"I'm almost there~..."
A soft clink echoed through the hollow place, bringing you back to reality. Scared you looked around you. Maybe a mouse?
Following the clinking sound, you saw a small snake hurt in a water cup. The snake looked up to you with soft red eyes. The white scales reminded you of pure untouched snow.
The snake was probably an albino. 
You spread out your hand and took the little injured creator in your hand. Your heart swelled when the little snake slithered up to your wrist embracing it softly.
Its red eyes never left yours and you patted his head slightly. 
The Snake watches as you walked stressed out up and down through your little room. A small bandage adorned its little tummy and a small bow tie was around his head. 
To say he was embarrassed was an understatement. But the way how happy you applied the little bowtie on his head was giving him pure joy. So, he didn't protest.
When you finally looked at the small clock that was on your room wall you gasp at the time. You grabbed your little purse and the beignets for the little costume party.
Theme: Kingdom.
The snake you named apple slithered up to your neck. It looked like a designer necklace, and you loved it. 
You stood unmoving in one of the stands from the party. The landlord of the place where you found him was informing you that someone pays way more than you do.
Your whole body feels like it's going to crumble. You were so close to that dream. You were so close to making your father proud.
All those years for nothing?
Apple looked up to you and he saw the face of pure despair and sadness. His heart broke when you ran towards the landlord in despair. Tears were pouring down your face as you shouted the landlord’s name. 
You were close to a panic attack. Apple rested softly on your neck like a scarf. He tried to comfort you in any way.
A woman with a wine glass in her hand accidentally pours the wine onto your dress and Apple hissed at the sudden wetness.
When you turned to look for the landlord he was nowhere to be found. And for the first time you really felt defeated.
Your legs under you gave up and everything around you started to mix in one black hole.
Charlotte hugged you from behind when she saw your broken state. Charlotte dragged you along with her when she looked at the damage on your dress. 
She gave you a new dress your mother had designed for her.
A gorgeous flowing dress that beats every physics. A little Tiana was on your head and the color matched perfect with your skin color. 
Apple watched with an immense blush on his scales.
You look so pretty in this dress. 
You plumped softly onto the bed where apple was laying. He laid under your chin cuddling into your heat. "Oh Apple. I don't know what to do." You whined as soon as those words left you.
“I can help.” As soon as you heard Apple talk you shot up, falling with full force onto the hard floor. 
Red mist covered the whole room and in front of you stood a man with white skin, red eyes and royalty looking clothes.
His smirk was large, and he held an apple cane in one of his hand. “Do you trust me princess?”
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A/n: I'm obsessed with Tyla's new album.
💫
@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete
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emmettworld · 3 days
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hello, my beloved whump community. this is Emmett. but you probably know me better as this blog:
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or you may remember the blog before that:
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you may have even been here since this blog:
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...i'm not taking you farther than that. xD
my account was terminated without any warning today. March 25, 2024. all of my blogs are gone and i have lost everything i have on them. you won't even be able to see any comments or reblogs for me on any of your posts.
if you have commissioned me over Tumblr DMs and not Discord, please contact me here. i did not have a copy of my commission list saved. i do not know who hasn't paid and who already has. i do not remember who was on the list. i do not want anyone to be cheated out of their money.
i have no idea why this happened. i was not doing anything that could justify my account being terminated with no warning or explanation. i'm so paranoid about it that i won't even type the blog names; that's why they're images instead.
but at this point, most of you know the type of whump creator i am. one who creates whatever he wants, no matter how disturbing or explicit it may be. one who loves creating whump and content in general of the Not Safe For This Website kind.
getting one of my blogs flagged, and now losing everything, is not going to stop me. i'm not going anywhere. but i am going to be changing my approach to posting content.
this is my Language Key. i will be using a system of emojis for tagging instead of words, so please read this before you go on my blog and know which tags you need to block.
if you need to block my blog for any reason, go ahead. i don't want to disturb anyone by showing up in the tags.
all of my artwork that is Not Safe For This Website will be linked to an external storage website, MEGA. it is completely free to view and you do not need an account. there will be no cropped previews unless they are 100% Safe For This Website.
all of my writing that is Not Safe For This Website will be linked directly to where i post it on my AO3. it is completely free to view and you do not need an account. there will be no writing put under a read more unless it is 100% Safe For This Website.
trust me, i'll have a better pinned post up at some point explaining who i am and my multiverse of AUs, series, and OCs, and links to my commission page, and my Ko-Fi...and i'll do my best to finish the masterlists and, once again, build myself up from the ground up...
but i'm exhausted. i never saw this coming, and it's made me realize just how unsafe i am. i lost so much content that was only posted on Tumblr and not saved anywhere else.
believe me when i say that i am fucking devastated.
but i'm not going anywhere. i will die with this site when it eventually goes down, and not because it tried to kill me.
that being said, you can find me here on Cohost, which is where i'll migrate to when this place dies or where i'll communicate if i happen to get IP address banned (probably without warning) or something that prevents me from coming back.
if you don't want to refollow me here, i totally understand. i can't say how grateful i am to everyone who does, but like...i get it. it's tedious having to refollow me all the time, never knowing when a blog (or full ass account) is going to suddenly disappear. if you want to get off this crazy, unpredictable ride now, i don't blame you.
and if you decide to stick around, for however long, thank you. this day has been one of my worst nightmares and i don't think i would be handling this with nearly as much grace if it were not for my friends and everyone on my Discord server (which, by the way, is the only safe place where i share everything uncensored).
they were my first line of communication. they helped me get the word out. they rallied for me and kept me from having one massive breakdown over this, so my heartfelt thanks go out to them.
i'm using the whump community tags in hopes that more people will see this. i had hundreds of followers on my last blog, more than a thousand on the blog before that...i know this isn't going to reach everyone, but i hope it will reach some people.
thank you so much for reblogging this to help spread the word if you do. and thank you for reading. ❤️
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AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?
So this whole situation gets rather complicated and quick, so please bear with me… TW for mention of suicide.
I (20m) previously made friends with a younger artist (about 17f by now if I’m remembering correctly; please keep an open mind here) after being unaware of their age and just following them for their art for a few years. One day, when I was 18 and I believe they were maybe 15-16, I reached out to let them know that I had been deeply influenced by their art and thought a lot of their work was very fun and humorous, and we kept in contact afterward mostly through public chat spaces, just joking around with each other and sharing art and memes and the like.
I want to stress that I had absolutely zero foul intentions here. They were a lonely kid without many friends, and I felt for them; I went through a lot of the same shitty situations (namely an abusive home) they were actively going through, and genuinely all I wanted was to offer them a safe space and a friend. I know that people sometimes get weird about friendships across age gaps, but I sincerely only wanted to help where I could. To this day I’m still not sure if I went about it the right way, but that’s a discussion for my therapist and not for here.
Fast forward some time. I discover that the other artist didn’t have a lot of friends for various reasons that were all linked mostly back to their immaturity, which I didn’t mind considering that they were. Y’know. Kids. But part of this immaturity was just… not understanding time restraints and boundaries, and that reflected back at me, despite multiple instances of me sitting them down and having talks with them about it as gently as I could. These talks were usually just about them messaging me constantly, literally non-stop, in the middle of the night, during school hours, etc etc etc. During this time, I became sick — very sick. I stand now chronically ill and permanently disabled. I was sick, scared, and exhausted, and yet I was expected by this friend to talk to them literally constantly, or else they would get upset. And it took a further toll on my ailing health, because no matter how many times I tried to tell them that I physically couldn’t talk to them as much as they were demanding I do, it never seemed to resonate.
I started reaching out less and less, because I just physically couldn’t handle talking to someone That Much for That Long… It wasn’t personal. It came to a point where our chats went completely silent, and even if I did reach out to try and talk, they wouldn’t reply or would only do so in very short, clipped responses. So I respected the obvious decision they had come to and just… kind of stopped trying to reach out. I was still a follower of theirs, though, so I would visit their profile every now and then just to make sure they were doing okay as a means to soothe my own worries.
Then they made a post alluding to offing themselves, went radio silent across all their platforms for a few days despite my best efforts to reach out, until I tried to check up on them again and found myself blocked everywhere. This made me panic; I genuinely didn’t know what to do. It took me a while to even remember that I could just… log in to a new account online rather than the app to check up on them, and after a few weeks of doing this, I was relieved to find that they’re still doing okay and back to posting semi-regularly. I don’t know the details, but at least they’re alive, y’know? That’s all that matters to me. Now, I just try to check every month or so to make sure they’re okay, and I’ll send them little anon messages trying to uplift them, or tell them to stay strong… I’m aware that it probably falls under stalker territory or something, but I genuinely only want the best for them, and as it stands, I don’t have a whole lot of other ideas for how to at least make sure that they’re okay…
Anyway… I’m making this post because there was another “AITA” post that got torn apart by people for someone evading a block for some reason or another, and I guess I was just compelled to see if this story would get a similar reaction… 🤷‍♂️
So yeah. AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?
What are these acronyms?
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Rites: St Patrick's Day
It's a day celebrated by many people, especially Irish community. And in such a blessed festivities, several Irish-descent gained some kind of magical development blessed only on the time window of St. Patrick Day.
I've been hella distracted all day long, and it's all because of my roommate Patrick. He's always been a rather sporty guy from the get go, and I'm pretty much used to the fact that we're not necessarily that close as a roommate since we have totally different interest anyway. But, ever since he walked back in to the dorm after his shower this morning only rocking that towel, I simply couldn't take my eyes off him.
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He's pale as fuck, yes, and not like that muscular or anything, but it's just super enchanting to see him glide around our dorm and dress himself up for the day. Since we have separate bedroom and only connected by this study-common section, we have our privacy and moments to ourselves rather easily. He decided to be a bit loud with all the oohs and aahs as he probably checked himself out. I was sure I heard him say something about his "slightly tanned skin" or "veinous muscular arms that make people feral" or even "my fat and girthy uncut cock" but well.....I think I would be a bit proud too over my body development if I have a studly physique like his
I remembered some of our final convo before we left for our respective schedule as he exited his bedroom and ready to leave earlier than me
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"Clean the bathroom before you leave for your class, okay?"
"Can you take care of my laundry first? You don't have class till 2 PM, right? You can sniff it if you want HAHAH! Nevermind, just do my laundry, okay?"
"Come and watch me play with my buds after your class, okay? We'll play in the outdoor field, then we can head back to the dorm together, sounds nice, right?"
And I simply said yes to all of that. On top of that, even when he left, the obsession remain for me. I bet I spent most of my day daydreaming about him rather than putting on any substantial work whatsoever to my classes.
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I found myself scrolling through IG and rewatching his stories upload about his workout session before I eventually dashed to the basketball court to watch him play as my classes wrapped for the day.
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I followed all Patrick's movement on the court and practically ignored the other players, it's like as if he's my world and I need to focus all my attention to him. Eventually, when the sweating, post-basketball-reek Patrick brought me to his car, he simply put me in my place as he said
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"Now be a good faggot and start huffing. This is the shit that keeps you going, this gives you satisfaction when you can prove that you served me well, right?"
And just like that, I accepted that as my truth
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fandomsoda · 2 days
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So… we’ve come this far, huh?
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Today is officially the one year anniversary of my time on Tumblr, and the one year anniversary of my friendship with the lovely person who is @/dinosaurzzz (the slug cat on the right is its sona!).
It is honestly incomprehensible to me that it has been a full year since I got on this site and honestly it has completely changed my life. I have grown more as a person in this year than I believe I ever have in my whole prior life combined. I have found a community where I am loved, where I am safe, and where I am given the space to learn and grow from my mistakes, and that is completely fucking invaluable to me. And I will forever thank Dino for being the final thing to push me to finally get on this site that I already figured would be perfect for me. It has been such a wild ride, and even if Tumblr has muffled the reach of my posts at the moment, I am going to scream this one from the rooftops, and try to show appreciation for everyone who has helped me along this journey.
First of all shout out to my incredible partner @wishtale-blogs, she is the love and light of my life and she truly understands me and has my back. I never, ever thought that I would meet someone who both gets me completely and contrasts me perfectly and having her in my life is something I would never trade absolutely anything for. When you’re young it seems like destiny for partnerships to fall apart simply by nature of it being so early in life, but I genuinely feel as if this is unshakable, and I’m just.. so happy to have her.
And with that I’d next like to shout out our adoptive sons, @karineverse and @the-selfmade-gods. Both of you are absolute angels, lights of my life and people that I would protect with my life. Thank you so much for being here for me and being here for all of your friends and staying strong through all you’ve been through. I’m proud of you, truly I am so proud of you and I love you as if you were my own flesh and blood.
Now, I am going to list out every single person I can think of whom I consider a friend. There will not be elaboration here as this post will be long enough as-is, but just know that I could write a blurb for each of you for why I adore you so much, some of you a whole essay. If your name is not here and you consider us friends, do not hesitate to message or ask me about it, I never want to leave people out and I know how anxiety-inducing it can be to not wind up on one of these lists with someone you care about. That being said, here are the names of all of my amazing friends, in no particular order:
@twinklesporkle, @justanidiotartist, @nyxus-nyx, @jupiter-nwn, @rib-rabbitmask, @still-got-no-idea, @liliallowed, @ashburntcat, @ponnedapple, @person-of-many-names, @itzcherrybonbon, @spamsbylee, @nevil-gonslek, @duckielikeserror, @psycho-chair, @letsatomicbanana, @starmonsterrr, @midnightstarshadow, @colorfulpaintspills, @kenopsia-ksp, @autisticseapanda, @hiro-doodlez, @cherrio-krispz, @emerald-onion, @the-save-star-anomaly, @everydaygremlin, @dreamsb0u, @skylerfurmaniac, @meimeikyu, @silly-inksans-stuff, @sketchingstars03, @shenanogram, @sargentvenipede
And with these friends, I’d also like to take a moment to thank followers of mine who I’ve never known super personally but still value immensely. I don’t truly know you guys, but you seem amazing, thank you so much for being here.
@hex0code, @cherrifruiti, @gloomywoomymoon, @atherflame-theconcubus, @neonordream, @finleyforevermore, @epicnightm, @youracecard, @pearbranch14823, @palisadewasp @wolvesbaneandbuttercups, @crunchontoast, @bloomyspring
Thank all of you so, so much. There would probably be more names but there is a mention limit of 50, so I had to cut some down. Either way, thank you all a million, you all mean so much to me and I think this day is truly going to be the start of a new beginning.
And to all the people who would have been here, the friends who should have been here but aren’t…
if it’s simply because we haven’t talked in a while, I hope you’re alright and I miss you.
but if it’s because you’ve harmed me, I still hope you’re alright and growing as a person. I’m sorry we didn’t work out and I promise I miss the you that I knew. I wish that things had happened differently, and even though you’re likely not seeing this I hope today can be the start of new beginnings for you too. Thanks for the impacts that you’ve left on me, even if those are scars. You guys have also helped make me into who I am, and without hardship it would be hard for me to learn.
Here’s to a new day, and any more lovely years to come.
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ragnarokhound · 3 days
Note
((you don’t have to do both if you don’t want to, you can consider this one a back up / alt))
“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” 💞
From this writing prompt list i reblogged in...november lmao fljdsjfa
anyway this grew legs and sprinted away the second I picked it up yesterday - clearly it just needed some time to proof lmao. Thank you for the ask, tauria!! From *checks watch* almost 5 months ago fjdslafjsa I will be cross-posting it to Ao3 in my new oneshot collection fic :)
Warnings for: Vague allusions that Ra's Al Ghul is a creep (what else is new), threats of gun violence, canon-typical violence
15. “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”
When Tim arrived in Gotham this morning, he had no way of knowing that his day would end in Jason Todd’s bed. 
Frankly, he wasn’t really sure what bed he’d end up in— because his own certainly wasn’t an option right now. But If he had to pick, Jason Todd’s was somewhere near the bottom of whatever list he’d make.
He didn’t exactly plan on this, okay? 
But, uh. Let’s back up a little.
Tim knew his day was going to go to shit when he got back from the airport at 7 AM.
He had his driver drop him off two blocks away from his townhouse for the sake of caffeine at the hole in the wall place he likes. Wealthy CEO he may be, but a sixteen hour flight is still a sixteen hour flight and Tim is cursed with an inability to sleep in the air. 
Don’t ask. He’s tried. It doesn’t work.
So he wants coffee, and he wants a shower, and he wants his own bed. In that order.
With the first thing on his list acquired and blessedly burning his tongue, he managed to tug his brain cells together enough to realize that the building they’d passed that had been shrouded in tents and canvas was his building.
"What's going on here?"
The worker outside his building looks up from her clipboard, her face wrinkling into apprehensive confusion.
"Hello, sir. Can I help you?”
He hasn’t slept in roughly seventy two hours. He is not awake or patient enough for this.
“My name is Tim Drake. I own this building. What’s going on here?” He repeats.
The woman raises her eyebrows and looks down at her clipboard again. “Mr. Drake?” She questions, clearly expecting him to look like a grown-ass man and not a sleep-deprived college student coming home from spring break or whatever.
“Yes. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Why are you—” he tries to gesture with the hand still holding his suitcase handle, walking towards the tarps and tents erected around his townhouse with increasing trepidation, “—here?”
“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go in there. Not for at least forty-eight hours.”
Tim stops in his tracks.
“Forty-eight—?”
“We've been scheduled to fumigate the property today.” She says it like she’s reading it out of a handbook. “It won't be safe to enter the building for at least forty-eight hours. You should have received prior notice. Uh. Sir.”
Tim's jet-lagged brain kicks into overdrive. 
Bruce hasn't made any disappointed noises about Tim’s perfectly normal work ethic lately so it probably wasn't a misguided attempt at benching him. And besides, rendering Tim’s apartment inaccessible is counterproductive on that front. 
Dick wouldn’t. They haven’t been exactly— great, lately but he wouldn’t. Besides, if he wanted to get Tim out of the house more, he’d show up to drag Tim out into the daylight himself. This is a little too roundabout for him.
It’s too much work to be Steph. She would think it’s funny, but there’s no way she’d follow through.
Damian might, but this doesn’t quite fit his preferred methods for making Tim’s life hell. It could be some cloak and dagger maneuver to leave him vulnerable, faking a complaint to the city so he’ll—
And then Tim thinks about the call.
The call he’d brushed off at fuck o’clock in the morning somewhere over Europe, too busy with another project. The call his secretary took for him instead. He thinks about the distracted confirmation he’d given to whatever it was she’d asked him about five minutes later. 
He also thinks about the form he signed about two weeks ago, before this last minute trip to Hong Kong had consumed his entire attention. The one with “Two Weeks Notice” stamped across the top. His stomach sinks.
“Today,” he repeats.
She looks apologetic. “Today,” she confirms. “And we just started about an hour ago. I’m very sorry, Mr. Drake-Wayne but—”
"No it's—" he says through gritted teeth, "fine. I'll just. Make other arrangements."
He does not make other arrangements. Though not for lack of trying.
Tim has a handful of safehouses scattered throughout the city. He has options. He gets a taxi to the closest neighborhood, and nearly falls asleep in the backseat. The cabby has to knock on the glass divider to get his attention when they come to a stop. He grumbles and hauls his suitcase out of the backseat, and tips the man excessively.
Shower. Bed. Sleep. He’s so close he could cry.
Except when he finally rolls around the block, coffee half gone and trying to remember if this safehouse is the one with in-unit laundry or if he’ll have to haul his shit down to the laundry room, his building is a blackened husk with police tape all around it.
He stops on the sidewalk. He peers up at the window of his unit, squinting at the peeling black wood and shattered glass. He ponders whether two is enough data points to be considered a pattern. And whether he could get away with napping in the alley on this street or if that’ll end with him stabbed and robbed.
As he’s pondering, he catches sight of a passerby and stops him.
“‘Scuse me,” he says apologetically. “What the hell happened here?”
The guy looks up from his phone and takes in his rumpled clothes, his suitcase, and the scorched remains of his apartment.
“Oh, uh. Yeah, there was a big fire about a week back? Bad fire. Took out, like, half the block. Cops are saying it’s arson.”
“A week ago,” Tim repeats. The guy’s eyes widen.
“Oh shit, bro, did you live here?”
“I’ve been out of town,” he explains numbly.
“Dude, that sucks. And right in the middle of con’ season. Good luck finding a hotel!”
“Yeah,” Tim sighs as the guy walks away. “Thanks.”
The next safehouse he tries isn’t in much better shape. 
He remembers hearing about Freeze going on a rampage a few days into his trip, but he hadn’t realized another one of his places had been caught in the cross-fire. The cold burst the pipes, and now the whole place is undergoing renovation.
He hears all this from the crotchety old lady who lives in the next building over (her building needs renovation too, but will the city pay for it? Of course not, they weren’t ‘directly impacted by disaster’ so they won’t see a penny of relief funds even though their pipes are on the same line. Typical) and when he finally extricates himself from the conversation, it’s almost noon, his second cup of coffee is long-since empty and he’s at the end of his goddamn rope.
By the time he sees his next safehouse, he isn’t even surprised anymore.
“Does God hate me?” He asks the boarded up building. “Is this a punishment? What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”
He is 99% sure at this point that someone is burning his bolt holes. There’s a short list of people with the resources and the intel to do it, and while he’s not above ruling out the likes of Damian just yet, he seriously doubts anyone wearing a bat is behind this. 
Besides, Dick would have noticed by now if Damian were sinking this many resources into convoluted covert ops designed to make Tim suffer. Definitely. Probably.
Fuck it.
He goes around the back and hops on top of his suitcase to reach the clunky camera watching the back entrance. This building is on the shittier side, closer to Crime Alley than his other haunts; cameras break all the time around here. He’ll have it replaced after he’s a functional human again.
Reportedly, this building was tagged for ‘high toxicity levels’—  which is pretty typical for any building where fear toxin or Joker gas are found in any amount. They must have found a lot to condemn the whole building, but Tim is confident he’ll be fine. The airborne shit dissipates to safe levels within hours depending on the ventilation. If it was in the air, it’s long gone. Anything else needs to be injected to be effective.
Once the camera’s busted, he kicks out the boards and heads inside.
He drags his suitcase in after him, and mourns the shower he probably won’t be getting. The hall lights are out, and chances are the water’s been shut off along with the electricity. But at this point, he simply does not give a shit. All he wants are four walls and a mattress.
Leaning on the door to his floor to make it open, he stumbles out into the hallway—
And catches sight of the glistening curved dagger stabbed into the wall next to his door, the hilt gleaming green in the sinking sun.
“Nope,” Tim says, spinning on his heel and going back down the stairwell double time. “Nope, nope, nope.”
He is now 100% certain that the League of Assassins has been burning his bolt holes. Ra’s al fucking Ghul can eat his whole ass.
Seven blocks away, Tim sits on the sidewalk in front of a bodega and contemplates a third cup of coffee. The shittiest one yet.
See, here’s the thing.
The thing is, he has options.
He could go to the Manor. Or the penthouse. Or to Steph’s place. He’d have to answer some unnecessary questions like ‘Master Timothy, you know you can’t sleep on aircraft, why didn’t you sleep before your flight’ or ‘Tim, why didn’t you come here first, you know you can still come to me if you’re in trouble, right’ or ‘why did you agree to fumigate your fucking house, you loser, lmao’. (Stephanie is not going to let him live this down). 
He is absolutely certain that he would be welcomed in any of these places and after a completely undeserved amount of fussing, he could take a fucking nap and someone else would deal with the League bullshit for him.
And that’s the thing. There’s the rub.
No one should have to deal with the League bullshit for him. This is his problem. He’s not in a hurry to bring them down on anyone. Not even Damian.
With grim resignation, he reaches for his phone to try and find a hotel room (during a con’ weekend apparently, RIP) and maybe get a fucking handle on this whole stupid thing, when he hears:
“Hand over your wallet!”
He lifts his head slowly and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. A gun held by some guy wearing a ski mask in broad fucking daylight. There’s another guy next to him who’s watching the street. There’s a third guy somewhere behind him who he can’t see, but he can hear the scuff of his boots.
Sure. Why not. With the day he’s had, this might as well happen. He holds up his hands placatingly.
Tim contemplates his muggers. The guy with the gun is jittery, probably new to this, or hopped up on something. He keeps glancing between Tim and the bodega behind him, so they were probably planning a run on the till. Might have chickened out, or thought Tim was an easier target, an unexpected meal ticket plopped right in their path. Or they were already inside when Tim sat down, which wouldn’t bode well for his situational awareness seeing as he just came out of there himself.
The grinding gears of his tired brain keep getting caught on the fact that this is happening in the middle of the fucking day. Tim glances at the street corner and bites his cheek in frustration. Yeah, he’s smack dab in the middle of the Alley. Figures.
“Are you deaf or somethin’ man?” The guy with the gun is saying. “Hand over your fucking wallet!”
The other guy doesn’t seem as crazy-eyed. He’s nervous, though. He keeps looking around like he’s expecting Batman to materialize, to come whistling down the street like a beat cop.
“Dude, come on, it’s not fucking worth it,” he says, grabbing at the gunman’s shoulder. “We got the money, let’s fucking go.”
The third guy kicks over Tim’s suitcase. “Yeah, come on, Don, let’s just grab this shit and bounce.”
Tim can’t do anything. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and he’s getting mugged in front of a bodega at two in the afternoon in a rumpled suit and tie and still toting his suitcase from his early morning flight. 
His hands are trembling from unspent adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep. His eyelids are the heaviest they’ve ever been in his godforsaken life. His ears are ringing. He could knock all three of them down in less time than it takes to tie his shoelaces. But he can’t.
“Shut up, Johnny, look at him shaking! What’s he gonna do? If he doesn’t wanna get shot, rich boy’s gonna hand over all his fucking shit!”
“Hey, let’s just—” Tim tries to say.
Stars explode across his vision as Tim takes a punch he genuinely wasn’t expecting. He stares up at the blue sky for about half a second, more confused than anything else, before the gunman grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up to shout in his face.
“What’s it gonna be, pretty boy?!”
Caught on the exhausted edge between vigilante training and the preservation of his identity, Tim is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to cry.
“Gee, Donny, what is it gonna be?” A fourth voice says, full of false cheer.
Tim blinks. So do the muggers. 
He knows that voice.
“Who the fuck—?” The gunman drops Tim, spinning around and into a fist. He tumbles down to the ground, out cold.
Everything happens pretty quickly after that.
Jason Todd is in civvies. He’s sporting a worn out looking hoodie and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. But his heavy boots are the same ones he wears for his uniform, and the kick he delivers to Johnny’s face is all Red Hood.
Almost in a daze, Tim watches him fight with the usual mix of seething envy and raw desire that rears its ugly head any time he gets to see Jason in action. He’s fast, decisive. Efficient. Beautiful. Tim wishes he had Jason’s skill. And he wishes— 
Well. He wishes a lot of things about Jason Todd.
Tim is pretty sure he and Jason are friends. Maybe. Probably. They’ve pretty much moved past the whole “replacement”, “zombie-dickhead” part of their relationship and have graduated to occasionally providing backup on ops that overlap in each other’s sectors, ganging up on Dick when they’re all in the same room, and maintaining a surprisingly steady stream of vigilante gossip to keep each other in the loop. 
So, ok, yes, due to the aforementioned, he’s pretty sure they’re friends. And also because Jason wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for him otherwise. He would have just let him get mugged.
Watching Jason fight is one of Tim’s favorite pastimes. But right now, Tim’s usual appreciation is soured by the gut-roiling embarrassment of being caught in this position by Jason of all people. His eyes itch. His cheek throbs. He’s so fucking tired.
“Hey, little stalker,” Jason says suddenly, holding out an expectant hand in Tim’s face. The muggers are groaning on the ground around them. Tim isn’t sure when that happened. He might have zoned out. “Did you know that you had a stalker for a change?”
Tim flushes. “I resent that. I haven’t stalked anyone in years.” He takes the hand. It’s warm, and calloused, and big around his.
Jason laughs at him and yanks him to his feet. “Liar.”
Tim’s mouth twists into a scowl. He tries to glare at Jason, but he can feel himself swaying and Jason still hasn’t let go of him, and it’s ruining everything.
Also, lowkey, Jason is right. But in his defense, it is literally their job to stalk people, so.
“I haven’t stalked you in years then. Just other guys. Bad guys. Not non-bad guys. Fuck. You know what I mean. Whatever.” He pauses; recalibrates. “Had?” He asks.
Jason’s eyebrows inched higher and higher the longer Tim talked. Tim doesn’t blame him.
“Yeah. Had.” 
So much for the League, Tim muses.
Jason gives him a once over before tugging decisively on Tim’s wrist, easily grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to walk with both in tow, to Tim’s rising horror. 
“You’re coming with me, shortstack. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk? You look like shit.”
Tim tries to yank his wrist out of Jason’s grip, but the asshole doesn’t budge. “I’m not drunk,” Tim snaps. “I’m fine. I’m just. I’m just… really tired.”
Jason stops abruptly, and Tim stumbles into his shoulder.
“I can see that,” he says, steadying Tim with an amused but ultimately sympathetic look. He loads Tim’s suitcase onto the back of a motorcycle that Tim literally just now noticed. 
God, he’s fucked. And not even in a fun way. 
“C’mon,” Jason says. “Don’t fall asleep on the way over— road rash sucks ass.”
They don’t talk on the way to— wherever Jason is taking them, but once they’re parked in a random garage and walking towards the elevators, the game of twenty questions begins.
“So why’ve you got League assassins after you, anyway? Piss in a lazarus pit? Push over the baby brat on the playground?”
“Ra’s al Ghul wants my body,” Tim says, dejected but resigned to this bizarre fact of his life. “Since I was seventeen, I’m pretty sure.”
Jason wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”
“I don’t think it’s a sex thing? But it could also be a sex thing.”
“Again. Fucking ew.”
“Yeah. Also I blew up a bunch of his shit and I think he’s still salty I got away with it.”
“Is that why you weren’t at the Manor?” Jason asks, herding Tim out of the elevator and down a long hallway. “Or anywhere but a random street in Crime Alley?”
Tim nods. “Yeah. They found all my safehouses, but— my mess. My problem.”
Jason thwacks him upside the head.
“Ow! What the fuck?”
“You’re the dumbest person on the planet.”
“Am not. B is on-planet right now.”
“Then you’re pretty fucking close,” Jason snarks, fishing out some keys and opening one of the apartment doors.
Tim scoffs at him as he’s pushed inside. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you would let Dick swoop in and solve all your problems for you.”
Jason rolls his eyes, stepping into the side kitchen and popping open the freezer door of the fridge.
“Dickiebird can’t even solve his own problems,” he says as he rummages. “But maybe when I’m fucked up enough to let three nobodies robbing a fucking bodega get the jump on me, that’s a sign that, maybe, it might be time to call in the cavalry. Dick isn’t the only person who’s got your back.” He presses an ice pack to Tim’s face until he takes it himself, and keeps steering him through the apartment. “Just saying.”
Tim would protest with all of his very good reasons why Jason is definitely wrong here, but he’s too busy processing the fact that Jason has led him into a bedroom. With a bed. There’s a bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets. Right there. Tim stares at it with lustful eyes.
Jason catches him staring. He rolls his eyes, but he’s sporting a small smile that Tim has the presence of mind to memorize. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a big shirt and a pair of shorts that he hands to Tim.
“Look. If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here. No guarantees I’ll be always around, but, yeah. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”
Tim eyes him up, clutching the bundle of Jason-smelling fabric in his hands. “And you’d do that for me because…why, exactly?”
Jason flicks his forehead, a stinging reprimand. Tim hisses.
“Because, dumbass, you need help and I feel like it. And you don’t actually suck to be around, so shut up and be grateful.”
“Oh, yes,” Tim deadpans, rubbing at his forehead. “So grateful to be allowed the privilege of squatting with you.”
The thing of it is, Tim is grateful. But Jason doesn’t need to know that.
Jason squawks, and before Tim can duck, he’s snatched Tim around the neck in a headlock. His arm is thick and doesn’t budge no matter how Tim shoves and kicks. The ice pack and the clothes go flying, and Tim just about dies. Jason is warm.
“Jason—!”
“Brat!” Jason crows, not giving an inch. “I paid for this place fair and square— you’re the only squatter here!”
“Blood money doesn’t count as square!”
“Tell that to half of Gotham, kid.”
“I’m trying to, thanks for noticing,” Tim says, finally wrenching himself free of Jason’s grip, stumbling into the bed and giving into its siren song. He sits down heavily on the edge, toppling over sideways and reaching pathetically for the fallen ice pack that’s just out of his reach.
“And don’t call me kid—” he complains, muffled by the pillow. It also smells like Jason. “You’re barely two years older than me.”
The cold ice pack is pressed into his fingers. He cracks an eye open to look, but Jason is just smirking at him, like he’s giving Tim the win. Ass.
“Coulda fooled me, shortstack.”
Tim rolls his eyes, and onto his back, toeing off his shoes and letting them clatter to the floor. He can’t tell if Jason’s bed is the best bed in the world, or if he’s just deliriously inventing things.
Frankly, Jason Todd’s bed is the last place he ever thought he’d end up, this morning or otherwise, so he’s never bothered to speculate. He does not have a contingency plan for this.
“Is there a reason you keep calling me short,” he complains, “Or will I just need to fill in the blanks myself?”
“Can’t help it. You’re just so small,” Jason coos. Tim props himself up on an elbow at that, raising a disgusted eyebrow.
“You don’t hear me constantly talking about how big you are.” 
Jason grins like he just won the lottery; Tim shuts his eyes the second it’s out of his mouth.
“Baby, you don’t know how big I am.”
He does, actually. Not in a creepy stalker way, just— there was this one time. A big rogue breakout at Arkham, all-hands on deck type of situation; Tim, Cass, and Jason were covering Poison Ivy in the park. Acid-spitting pitcher plants were involved.
And look, Jason’s tactical gear is fine in the day to day, but it’s not like any of them had time to prep a neutralizing agent, so when Jason needed his pants off, stat…uh. Well. Tim was right there.
He knows, okay?
“Alright,” he rallies, trying desperately not to replay the memory of Jason adjusting himself through his boxers. All of himself. “I walked right into that one.”
“Oh, trust me. You’ll know if you’ve walked into it.”
Tim scoffs, but he can feel how red his face is.
And the thing is. He says it without really meaning to. 
But he still means it.
“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, big guy?”
The change is immediate. Jason had been halfway out the door, but now he turns to Tim, giving him his full, undivided attention. He looks at Tim, laid out in Jason's bed, giving him a very slow once over. The scrutiny is at once nerve-wracking and thrilling.
“Thought you didn’t want my money,” Jason murmurs.
The temperature in the room spikes. If it weren’t for the slow throb of his bruised cheek, Tim would think that he’s already asleep and dreaming.
But he isn’t. He’s very much aware that he’s wide awake.
Tim swallows. “Well. It’s not your money I want.”
Jason’s grin is electric. 
He stalks over to the bed, and Tim is frozen like a rabbit, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Jason settles a knee on the sheets between Tim’s legs, looming over Tim and boxing him in against the mattress. Tim’s free hand reaches up of its own accord to tangle in the collar of Jason’s hoodie, and the cotton is softer than he expected.
Jason’s eyes rove over his face, dark and heavy. He catches Tim’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across the bruising hot ache of his cheekbone. He leans in deliberate and slow and—
—and stops about an inch away from Tim’s mouth.
“Get some sleep, babybird,” Jason teases, his breath puffing gently over the skin of Tim’s lips. “You can proposition me again tomorrow.”
“It’s, like, 3:30 in the afternoon,” Tim argues, breathless.
“Yeah, and your body thinks it’s 3:30 in the morning. You’re dead on your feet. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and go the fuck to sleep.”
Jason moves to rise. But Tim hooks a stubborn arm around his neck and pulls him down that last remaining inch. 
The kiss is— bad. At first. 
Tim basically smashed their mouths together to prove a point, and Jason muffles a surprised sound against Tim’s teeth. He lands heavily on top of Tim at an awkward angle, and he’s kind of crushing him. Tim refuses to let go, but— Jason doesn’t pull away.
Jason gentles the kiss instead, and Tim thrills. He levers himself up onto his elbow, wrapping an anchoring arm around Tim’s back. He finds a home between Tim’s legs, and he lets Tim kiss him until Tim's lips are tingling and his fingers go slack; until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.
Somewhere between fifteen minutes and a small eternity later, Jason presses one more kiss to the corner of his mouth. He curls around Tim on his side, and Tim turns his face into Jason’s neck with a soft wondering sigh.
“I’ll keep it. Promise. Wait n’ see,” Tim mumbles. Jason snorts, but doesn’t budge, and Tim can hear his smile in his voice, lilted and lulling.
“Sure, babybird. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.”
Tim is already asleep.
48 notes · View notes
notaplaceofhonour · 13 hours
Text
it’s october 7th. you hear about the attack by seeing people you followed glorifying the terrorist attack—a massacre, a pogrom—as victory & justified resistance, glorifying a terrorist group that was founded with the explicit intent to kill your entire people
you make a post in which you make it clear you support palestinians and oppose the ways israel has wronged them, explaining that the terrorist group is still not good. you know you will probably get some flacc from the pro-Hamas side, but naively underestimate how much.
you get thousands of notifications on that one post, the majority of them hateful comments.
some of the response is positive. multiple messages thank you for the post, expressing bafflement that it’s controversial.
a few Israelis are upset at the loaded language in your post, but explain their problems with it civilly. you called Israel “apartheid”. they ask you what apartheid laws Israel has. you admit you honestly don’t know.
your inbox is flooded with anonymous hate from anti-Israel leftists.
over the course of a few weeks you have received hundreds of death threats, a dozen rape threats. people accuse you of being pro-genocide. you’re a literal Nazi. you’re racist, you thirst for the blood of Palestinians. you’re brainwashed by propaganda, a shill for The Zionist Entity. a few of the hate messages are from literal Neo-Nazis; the overwhelming majority are from leftists, many of them queer.
you are considering suicide.
you see footage of the october 7th attacks. you see footage of the bombings in gaza. you see footage of a Jewish man being murdered at an anti-Israel rally.
a popular creator you follow posts in support of an antisemitic hate group that masquerades as a Jewish organization. this organization regularly posts blood libel and other antisemitic rhetoric, works with groups that are even more explicitly antisemitic, including celebrating October 7th, holocaust inversion, blood libel, “Khazar theory” and others. more than one of the orgs they work with is pro-Putin.
your former roommate liked the post.
graffiti appears on a street you frequent that says “#freepalestine” and “end settler colonialism”
the boyfriend of the friend you spent most of the summer with makes his first post about the war. it’s a reposted comic that mocks and downplays the october 7th attack.
you doubt he’ll be receptive to criticism. he’s shared leftist memes about “monied elites” pulling all the strings and evangelicals being modern day “pharisees” in the past, and getting him to understand why that was antisemitic was like herding cats. you try anyway.
another of his Jewish friends also pushes back. he smugly dismisses her, tells her she’s falling for Zionist propaganda and uses several antisemitic tropes. you go off on him. he just deletes your comment.
you give up. you’re done. you block him.
you see anti-Israel posters and billboards around town
you mention what happened with the guy you went off on to his girlfriend—the friend you’ve grown very close to, who you’ve been listening to as she unburdens her fears for the future and complains about her bf’s BS over the last year. she doesn’t respond to you.
a friend of a friend shares posts tokenizing fringe groups that spread blood libel and have collaborated with holocaust deniers. you know they don’t know what you know, so you explain what those groups are. they seem somewhat receptive, apologize, and take it down
the next day they share several more posts that dip into antisemitic tropes. you mention this to your mutual friend, that you’re worried about them being radicalized. you’re not sure how receptive they’ll be to continued criticism
you have a confrontation with the foaf. in the meantime they’ve shared even more antisemitic posts. they say they didn’t mean to cause you distress but instead of stopping they effectively block you.
the “end settler colonialism” vandalism has been counter-vandalized with the words “commie propaganda” in place of “settler colonialism”. you don’t know if this is an improvement.
a month passes. the friend whose bf you went off on still hasn’t spoken to you. you see she shared a post defending an SJP chapter that posted Nazi cartoon caricatures of Jews repurposed in “Anti-Zionist” memes. you unfriend her on all social media platforms but you can’t bring yourself to block her number.
you see a friend of someone whose couch you surfed when you were homeless harassing Jewish celebrities with “Free Palestine” comments. you block them.
you’ve lost count of how many people you’ve unfollowed or blocked, or who’ve blocked you. friends, content creators.
when a friend takes an unusually long time to respond you worry if it’s because of your posts about antisemitism.
most of the podcasts, youtube channels, and other content creators you regularly engaged with no longer feel safe. you wonder who will be next
a couple friends wish you a happy hanukkah. you don’t celebrate much aside from lighting the hanukkiah and making some latkes.
you see posts about a destroyed chabad menorah, antisemitic comments on Jewish celebrities’ Hanukkah posts.
your neighborhood is covered in pro-Palestine & anti-Israel posters. some are seemingly innocuous, some are JVP “not in our name” posters. some call for intifada. “globalize the intifada” “Zionists fuck off!” “solidarity means attack!”
a man kills himself shouting “free palestine”. you learn about his suicide by seeing posts from several popular accounts you followed glorifying it.
you follow a bunch of jewish accounts on social media and commiserate with them about everything happening
your jewish friends post screenshots of the dead man’s antisemitic, pro-Hamas views. you look at his reddit and find even more horrific shit: anti-Ukraine posts. mocking Zelensky. “elites” are “lizard people”; the only named individual he calls a lizard person is Jewish. you start to notice a pattern: a lot of the people he dislikes just so happen to be jews.
several people you know share a post glorifying this man’s suicide. most are acquaintances, one is someone incredibly important to you.
you wonder how they would respond to your suicide.
you tell the close friend that shared this post how it scares you. you show them the receipts of the man’s antisemitism. their response is a single sentence. they didn’t know about the antisemitism.
they don’t apologize.
you notice none of your irl friends, even your closest ones, interact with your posts about antisemitism. you are able to vent to a couple friends, but no one has reach out to you
you try not to read into it. you try not to take it personally.
you haven’t slept well in months. you’ve always been an insomniac but not like this. you’re not sleeping until 4am, 6am, even 9am. even when you get to bed at a decent hour and get a full night’s rest it takes you hours to get out of bed.
a few weeks go by. the friend with the single sentence response shares a post saying they’re excited and proud to join a group to help palestinians. you’re excited and proud for them.
a couple days later, they share a post about a fundraiser to help a palestinian family get out of gaza. you note to yourself this is a much more effective & less concerning form of activism than the pro-suicidal antisemite post.
your friend shares another post about the fundraiser. it’s a joint post between their group and another group.
you open the other group’s page
the page is just a wall of signs from rallies. you swipe through one after another: “from the river to the sea”, “by any means necessary”, justifying/denying the atrocities of october 7th, calling for violent revolution. anything done in the name of resistance can’t be terrorism, all Israelis are terrorists. Jews aren’t indigenous; they’re white colonizers. holocaust inversion. other vile, thinly veiled violent rhetoric
you feel sick to your stomach imagining talking to your friend about it.
you already feel like you’re burdening the few friends you can talk to about this. you already feel like you think about it too much, talk about it too much. but you can’t not think about it; it affects every aspect of your life.
you’ve filtered out relevant keywords on more than one social media site to avoid the worst of it. some still manages to leak through.
there isn’t a single friend you regularly interact with that you don’t fear the moment when they will switch from listening to your concerns to seeing you as the evil zionist or indoctrinated hasbaranik they’ve been warned about.
it’s not an irrational fear. it keeps happening. you knew it would then, and you were powerless to do anything about it before, and you continue to be as it happens again and again.
you don’t know what to do about any of it.
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tsukimefuku · 19 hours
Text
The search for the man in the black suit
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You were assigned to find and capture Higuruma Hiromi, a curse user sentenced to death by Jujutsu higher ups. You're just not sure if he really deserves to die.
Tags: Jujutsu Kaisen, f!reader, angst, canon-typical violence.
WC: 3.5K
This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles related to Nanami x Reader x Higuruma. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots and short stories, please visit my masterlist :) 
Disclaimer: these stories NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.
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From the unexplainable exorcism of multiple curses in just two days around Morioka City, Jujutsu High was able to triangulate the curse user's most probable hideout. You were assigned to find the man and capture him, in order to take him to execution by Tengen's established Jujutsu Society.
However, you were authorized to use lethal force in case he posed a direct threat to your life.
The man was 35-years-old Higuruma Hiromi. He was a former criminal defense lawyer that awakened his cursed technique during trial, right after his client got convicted, and wound up killing the prosecutor and the judge in the process. Jujutsu High provided you with some pictures of him, and in absolutely all of them, he was wearing a signature black suit with a sunflower pin on the lapel, always accompanied by a black tie.
Normally, these murders would be addressed by the regular justice system. However, because it involved cursed activity according to multiple accounts from witnesses that were in the courtroom that day, Jujutsu High was entrusted with the task of dealing with him.
Ever since he killed those two people, he was missing, and this is where you came in — you were entrusted with locating him and capturing him.
It felt odd going into this mission, and you couldn't help but wonder what got that man — supposedly a straight A's upstanding citizen and criminal defense lawyer — to commit murder. He surely was accustomed to fighting for hopeless causes and betting on losing dogs, especially in Japan where the conviction rate was so high, so why snap at this case? What had happened?
You remembered yourself how you were, once, targeted by Jujutsu High, and decided, while you got off the train, to give the man the benefit of the doubt.
***
It was night already, and the cool breeze soothed your face as you closed the car's door behind you. Following the directions you received when assigned this mission, you took a cab and wound up in front of an abandoned building. 
You checked the address, and sure enough, it matched the area you were supposed to look around to find the former lawyer.
Standing in front of that concrete carcass, you made your way inside, noticing the door to the entrance was completely gone. The building apparently had three floors from what you could tell after counting the windows visible from the outside, and you knew you'd have to check them all thoroughly in case this man was hiding.
However, it proved unnecessary.
Right in the middle of the first floor, you spotted a full bathtub, which was already odd enough. On top of that, the man you were looking for was laying inside of it, completely clothed, and didn't spare you a look as you came inside and stood there, staring at him in confusion.
"Have you ever bathed with your clothes on?" He inquired, suddenly.
"Hm, no" you answered, slightly taken aback. What kind of question is that? "I'm from a very cold place, even thinking of it gives me anxiety."
He was still staring at the ceiling, lit by moonlight and streetlamps that bled through the destroyed windows. "Where?"
"I'm from Odate" you answered, still completely puzzled as to why he was just making small talk with you. In any case, you decided to humor him, maybe he'd comply more easily to come with you if you did so. 
"Odate? Akita Prefecture, right? Lovely place. I went there once." His expression was completely blank as he said this.
"Did you?"
"Yes. I went there for a case. I was a criminal defense lawyer." He answered, lingering on the last word.
You gave it some moments before asking, "How did it end?"
"My client was convicted to life imprisonment. He was innocent."
Silence. 
You introduced yourself, and asked him if he was Higuruma Hiromi. He sighed at the sound of his name, finally looking at you.
"Yes, I am Higuruma Hiromi."
His eyes were empty and perceptive, and even in this silly scenario, he looked anything but silly. Even though you were a Grade 1 sorcerer, for a brief moment, the lingering question if you could take him on or not crossed your mind. You weren't sure. His aura was something else.
"If you know who I am, then you probably know what I've done." He said, nonchalantly.
You nodded. "Higuruma Hiromi. 35 years old. Former criminal defense attorney. Killed two people using an innate cursed technique after the conviction of one of your clients. His verdict of innocence was overturned, and you demanded a retrial, killing both victims on the spot."
He scoffed, and slid himself just a little under the water, protruding his knees up. "I thought I'd feel anything when listening to my charges. My clients always stiffened or hunched over when they did. I just feel... Nothing." He sighed. "So is that what this is? Innate cursed technique, you say?"
"Yes. They are a special kind of cursed energy manipulation from what we call jujutsu sorcery. Some people are born with them, and it usually manifests during childhood. However, it can happen later in life, often due to traumatic events and very negative experiences" you answered.
He seemed pensive for a moment. "And I assume you can manipulate cursed energy too, right? You seem to know a lot about it."
Your body tensed up. His voice had changed, and he began to emanate a discreetly menacing aura. "Yes, I can."
To the sound of that, the curse user put each hand to the side of the bathtub and began lifting his body up.
"I want to know what happened in Keita's trial. Why he was found innocent in the first place" you said, and the man stopped in his tracks, diverting his gaze to you. He seemed slightly interested, and you decided to double down.
"You were someone that took on incredibly hard criminal cases in a country with an extremely high conviction rate. Why did you kill these two people after he got convicted?"
Higuruma pondered for a moment before answering. "Because I grew tired of people's ugliness." He began. "My client got his favorable sentence overruled simply because a prosecutor had a chip on his shoulder, wanted to appease the media, and the judge couldn't bother to do this job rightfully, eager to end his work load for the day and leave, failing to see the people and lives he affected. All he saw were just piles of papers to be taken care of."
He paused.
"Because of their ugliness, an innocent man will spend the rest of his life behind bars."
At that moment, you were sure this wasn't the speech of a cold-blooded murderer, but someone that got so disfigured by an unfair system that he, too, became disfigured himself.
"I understand" you replied. "I'm sorry that happened to your client."
His eyes became less vacant for a split second, but his walls came back up as quickly as he asked, "how do you know who I am, and what are you doing here?"
Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment. "I was sent to capture you and take you to Tokyo. People that manipulate and employ cursed energy in Japan are subject to Jujutsu's Laws."
"Oh, so you're a jujutsu police officer of some sort?" He inquired. "Unfortunately, I don't talk to police officers without the presence of a lawyer, and since you didn't let me know that beforehand, nothing I told you up until now can be used as evidence against me."
"Ah... What?" You asked, genuinely confused.
He snorted, smiling. "I just wanted to play the 'accused and interrogated by the police' role for once."
"... Oh."
Yeah. He was definitely messed up in the head.
You were both sharing an incredibly awkward silence for a minute that seemed like an eternity.
"So, can I take you now?" You finally asked, breaking the silence.
"No."
More awkward silence.
"I mean, I just came here to do that."
"I understand. The answer is still no" he retorted. "There is probably a life imprisonment or death sentence waiting for me, am I correct?"
You failed to spit out an answer for him on the spot, and he took great notice of that.
"As I thought. So, no, I won't come with you out of my own volition." Higuruma said that as he got out of the bathtub and started walking towards you.
You took a step back and tried reasoning with him. "I intended to suggest a lesser punishment for you when we got to Tokyo. From what you've told me, you are not a murderer. Just someone that apparently lost his way and-"
"Lost my way?" He scoffed. "I haven't. I just see the truth more clearly now."
His cursed energy started radiating, and you knew now there was no turning back — you'd have to fight.
You conjured up many small grenades in-between your fingers, but before you could do anything, you saw yourself engulfed inside a courtroom. Higuruma was standing on the other side, and there was a giant black creature with a white face right behind him.
"Eh?! What the hell is this?!" You said, surprised. "Is this your domain expansion?"
"Oh, so that's what it's called? Domain expansion?"
Before he could do anything, you jumped over the pulpit and threw your grenades towards him. However, you were instantly warped back to your position, and felt even more confused than before.
"No violence is allowed inside this courtroom."
So it isn't a sure hit domain? What the hell is going on?
"Let me explain. In here, I have evidence of a crime you committed." He lifted an envelope. "Judgeman, who is right behind me, will say your charges. He knows everything about everyone inside the domain. After hearing your charges, you'll have time to make your statements, and with the evidence in my hands, to which you'll not have access to, I'll argue against your allegations. Then, Judgeman will sentence you based on the six japanese codes."*
*AN: The six Japanese codes are the Constitution, the Civil Code, the Criminal Code, the Commercial Code, the Code of Criminal Procedure, and the Code of Civil Procedure.
"What are the possible punishments?"
"Unfortunately, that is not up to me, but you can say anything you want in your defense during your deposition."
"Well, shouldn't I have access to the evidence in order to make my defense? And shouldn't you speak first? I mean, you're acting like a prosecutor. And if Judgeman knows everything, how can I expect a fair trial? It's like expecting God or any all-knowing being to-"
He scoffed. "Things are rarely fair in a courtroom. And Judgeman's sentencing will take into account only our allegations. Now let's get to it. Judgeman is not very patient."
The shikigami proceeded.
"February 20th, 2008, Odate City, Akita Prefecture. You stand accused of suppression of evidence related to a criminal case of another person, consisting in keeping items related to murders carried out by Shogo Yamada and not surrendering those objects to the authorities. What do you have to say in your defense?"
Oh. You remembered that, alright. You, Nanami and Gojo kept most of the items that contained cursed energy traces that they found on the murder scenes and never surrendered those to the police. After the end of their mission, Gojo and Nanami took those items with them, and they were all probably kept somewhere in Jujutsu High ever since.
Shit, what do I say?
You had a half-assed idea.
"We only did so in order to carry out our own investigation and reach him before the police did, considering he was a curse user that killed people with his innate cursed technique and would most likely harm any officer that got to him. So we were acting in legitimate defense of third parties" you answered, kind of incredulous all of this was happening.
Higuruma opened his envelope, and it had a picture of Shogo, deceased. "You could've surrendered that evidence to the police after his death. So, you undoubtedly kept evidences related to crimes of homicide unlawfully under your possession."
Fuck.
"The defendant is found guilty. Penalty: Confiscation" the shikigami said, before the entire domain dissipated.
You sighed, pissed. As you tried to conjure one of your grenades, it didn't work.
Higuruma noticed that.
"Confiscation, apparently, strips someone from their innate cursed technique."
To the sound of that, you clenched your hand and imbued it in cursed energy. At least I have that. I can try to fist fight this guy.
"Well, what would you say in my defense in that case, lawyer?" You asked, begrudgingly.
"It's simple, really. The law states that it is a crime to suppress evidence related to a criminal case of another person. Given that these murders were carried out by a curse user, and also what you just told me — that there are Jujutsu Laws to judge those who kill using jujutsu —, he wouldn't be under the jurisdiction of the regular justice system, so there would be no need to surrender that evidence in the first place. The fact that you're here and not the police proves that Jujutsu Laws overrule the Penal Code, and Jujutsu Laws are not contemplated by the six codes Judgeman adheres to."
Asshole.
"Fine, then let's get this over with" you replied.
Suddenly, he threw a gavel at you, and you dodged it by the skin of your teeth. Damn, he's fast. 
You realized, at that moment, you were in deep trouble, as he lunged at you grabbing the gavel that ricocheted back. You had some taijutsu training with Gojo, and prayed it'd be enough to keep you alive during this fight.
Jumping away to keep some distance in between the two of you, you thought you'd have some time to think of a strategy, but he was quicker, managing to hit you and send you flying to the other side of the room. Reinforcing your body with cursed energy, you managed to scrape off most of the damage, but were still very much hurt due to the blunt force impact.
Right before he dashed in your direction again, the roof came crumbling down, separating the both of you, as Higuruma stood closer to the exit, and you were very much cornered in the back of that floor.
It took you a moment to fully grasp what was going on. A gigantic spider-like curse, completely black with no eyes, had apparently been drawn to this place due to the cursed energy from your fight.
This isn't good. I can't make a run for it right now, I'm completely trapped and have no grenades or anything else.
You made the next decision in a split second.
"Higuruma, run! I'll handle this!" You shouted, surprising him.
"You have no innate cursed technique anymore!" He yelled back.
"I know that! Just fucking go! Save yourself!" You replied on the top of your lungs, dodging the curse's first three strikes. 
By no means was he innocent, and just moments prior, Higuruma was actively trying to kill you. Even so, you were someone that strongly believed in second chances, and though you couldn't exactly explain why, you still felt he deserved repentance.
That would never happen if he got killed in there.
"Go!" You shouted at him, seeing that the curse user simply stood there, dumbfounded, looking at you.
During this brief moment of distraction, the curse whipped one of its many legs directly against your abdomen, and you hit the concrete behind you, feeling your mouth instantly spurting with thick puddles of blood. You could distinctly feel you were injured internally, and that it was ugly.
On top of that, you knew you wouldn't be able to RCT yourself quickly enough.
Shit...
You saw the snow from Odate, while the cold formed beautiful fractals against the glass in your old home's window. Felt the taste and smell of your favorite tea, a recipe passed on through generations in your family. The day your parents left in the middle of the night, you were holding your brother in your arms, scared of what would happen to the two of you. Your brother's laughter. Your best friend hugging you the day you both graduated from High School. The afternoon you came to Jujutsu High. Nanami's face smiling at you. You saw it all in the longest second of your life.
I'm going to die.
The curse came at you and began descending three of its legs all at once, and you braced yourself for the impact.
Surprisingly, it never came.
When you realized, Higuruma was in front of you, using his gavel to hold the curse's legs at arm's length.
"Move!" He shouted, and you rolled yourself over propelling your body with your legs, as he swirled himself and his gavel around the curse's limbs. Higuruma instantly charged at it, dealing a blow that threw the cursed spirit across the vicinity.
He was definitely very strong for a modern day sorcerer, and you were even more sure of that seeing him go toe to toe with a strong Grade 1 curse.
However, you still needed a way to get yourself out of there.
Tapping inside your belt bag, you reached for your phone, praying it wasn't destroyed when you got hit twice. By a miracle, it wasn't, and you started to text Gojo, the only person you knew that had the ability to warp himself around.
Sending you my location. Injured. Came here to capture curse user. Need help asap. Might die.
It was a long shot, but the only one you had.
As you were praying that Gojo saw that message and came to your rescue, you had the chance to witness firsthand how talented this curse user was. He made close combat look easy, jumping around the curse and hitting it with his gavel — is this gavel bigger now? — effortlessly. 
Suddenly, his weapon became 10 times the size it previously was, and Higuruma used it to propel himself in the air, swinging the gavel down directly over the curse, completely crushing the spirit underneath. 
It had been exorcized.
You wanted to sigh relieved, but as Higuruma landed, he turned to face you. On his face, a mixture of confusion, shock, and something else you couldn't quite grasp. It kind of looked like... Annoyance?
"Why did you-" He began asking.
At that moment, a whiff of wind blew inside the room, and you mustered enough strength to yell "don't kill him!" shortly before Gojo threw Higuruma against the wall. At impact, the curse user fell on the floor, confused as to what was going on.
"Knock him out!" You shouted.
Gojo swiftly approached the man and planted two of his fingers on Higuruma's forehead, who instantly passed out.
Now you were relieved.
"So... What happened and why did you ask me not to kill him?" Gojo said, turning to look at you. "Oof, you're beat up. Guess we gotta increase our training sessions!" He chirped, grinning.
"Ugh, come on, Gojo. I'm bleeding internally, cut the jokes for a second, will you?" You said, rolling on your back, while healing your insides with RCT.
"Not for long, I see. Your RCT is improving" he noted.
"I was about to capture this guy, but we got jumped by a Grade 1 curse."
"What? And you couldn't defeat it, a Grade 1? Have you become weak or something?!" Gojo inquired, walking up to you and looking at your pathetically splayed beat-up body on the ground as you healed.
"Shut up. I don't have my innate cursed technique right now. He neutralized it."
Gojo widened his eyes. "He did?! How?"
"It's the effect of getting caught up inside his domain, which doesn't work with the sure hit thing. Ugh, come on, help me up" you complained, extending one of your hands. Gojo grabbed it and pulled you sharply, sending a wave of pain throughout your body. "Goddammit, man, be more delicate."
He laughed and waved his hands, dismissing your complaints. "You'll be just fine. Now, what was that about a domain that can remove other people's innate cursed techniques?"
You tried conjuring one of your grenades, and it came to your hand. At the sight of that, you sighed, relieved.
"Long story short, he can temporarily deactivate someone's technique if they suffer some sort of conviction from a Shikigami." You gazed at Higuruma, still asleep on the floor. "He's also insanely talented. I was led to believe I was sent to capture a dangerous killer, but he just-" your voice paused for a moment.
"Hm?"
"He just seems misguided."
You pondered for a moment.
"Could he work with us? I mean, we're always short-staffed."
Gojo was surprised, and asked, "really? I mean, you were only in this deep shit situation because of him."
"I mean, he was going to get captured and taken for execution. I'd defend myself, too. Also, his crimes wouldn't necessarily render him a death penalty if he was to be judged by a regular Court. He'd probably get life imprisonment or maybe imprisonment for a certain number of years."
The sorcerer thought about it for a moment, and walked towards Higuruma.
"He deserves a second chance, and will certainly be an asset for Jujutsu High" you concluded. "He's strong. He exorcized this grade 1 curse without my help, and he awakened his abilities a week ago or so."
"Are you sure?" He asked, lifting his blindfold with a finger to look at you.
"I am. Gojo, you saved me from the claws of the higher ups. They're arbitrary bigots, you know that." You said. "Please, take this as a request from a friend, will you?"
"Fine" Gojo replied, throwing Higuruma over his shoulder and giving you a thumbs up. "I'll do my best! But you owe me a bag of kikufuku."
You smiled at him. "Of course. I'd expect no different. Thank you."
--
End notes:
So, this one was a fun one. I literally read the japanese Penal Code and put my own knowledge of law hierarchy, criminal law interpretation and criminal procedure (as of today I can say I do have a masters degree in it 😂) to use. Hope you guys like it! xoxo 🦉
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kyouka-supremacy · 2 days
Note
Atsushi for the ask game.
ATSUSHI HERE WE GO THANK YOU FOR HEARING MY PRAYERS
Favorite thing about them: HIS SELFISHNESS. It's so so delicious to explore. Can you imagine a protagonist that saves others not out of simple good will, but because of egoistic self-preservation motives? It just feels counterintuitive for me lmao, and I found it quite messed up when I first watched the anime, but now it's so compelling to explore. His whole “everything I do is in order to gain the right to live” is crazy fashinating. Because lol, that's entirely nonsensical to me! There's no such thing as “gaining the right to live”; all humans, every person in the world is inherently deserving of life. All. No exception. So there's no level of “weak” or “worthless” that would make you lose that right. The fact that's it's a vision so distant and absurd from mine, idk, it just makes it very compelling to explore? “What if there was a little fucked up guy who believed the right to live had to be earned” just sounds like a very interesting premise.
Least favorite thing about them: When I first watched the anime, I think I found him low-key annoying? I just... Don't do very well with self-deprecating people and people who complain a lot in general, I usually suffer in silence and tend to (wrongly) assume others should do the same (this probably makes me sound pretty mean, I swear I try to be understanding irl). However, it doesn't bother me as much anymore, I simply think it's more of a distinctive trait of the character that makes him multilayered and unique. As of now, I can't think of anything I don't like about him if not the fact that I wish he'd rely on Dazai and others in general a little less. I know that has to do with his lack of self-worth, so maybe it makes sense,, but as of now he feels kind of stuck. I just wish we'd see him grow more on that front.
Favorite line:
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There may be better ones, but I really like the delivery of this one.
brOTP: KYOUKA AND ATSUSHI they make me go insane. Already talked about this in the Kyouka post but just to reiterate: in my headcanon Kyouka really is the only person Atsushi feels genuine, selfless affection towards. It's very sweet. They're siblings. Kyouka's happiness is really important for Atsushi. They really do have that feeling of people who got out of an abusive environment learning what normality is supposed to be like together. I also really like how they compensate for what the other lacks, be it decisiveness and coolhead for Atsushi and empathy and positivity for Kyouka. Although plenty shipping them romantically, I really like platonic sskk and atsulucy as well.
OTP: I really like sskk eheh. I think they're neat. There's a thousand and one reasons why I find them pretty great. They're objectively the only reason why I got invested in bsd as well as the only thing that has me keep up with the franchise to this day. Right now, I feel like the one thing I really appreciate about them is how you can be the worst person in the universe and still somehow be loveable to someone. I think it's sweet. I also find it very fun and enterataining to explore their various soulmatism antics. They're both very complex and multilayered characters with something deeply wrong with how their minds work that makes them very fun to analyze both by their own and in the complexity of their relationship. Their collective story arc and canon relationship progression is extremely engaging and nice to follow, too. I love dazatsu and atsulucy as well!! Both were ships I wasn't particularly invested when I read the manga for the first time, but really grew in me in the last six months or so. I really dig akuatsulucy as well!!
nOTP: Nothing?
Random headcanon: He really likes reading. There's some real meta-analysis to be made here I actually had written this is probably not the right place to talk about, but in a work that's all about literature, he's the character who reads.
Unpopular opinion: He's the hardest character to write / characterize. That's why people should probably go easier on other fans when they mischaracterize him. He's just very multifaceted and genuinely hard to get. I keep seeing people being like “Stop babyfying Atsushi he's an independent adult!!” then turn around to say “he can't be shipped with Dazai because there's too much unbalance of power :// [somewhat implying Atsushi can't make free decisions for himself]”, or “Stop making of Atsushi a soft baby who never did wrong in his life!!!” then turn around to say “Atsushi is the happy puppy of the agency who gets treats and pats from everyone ^^ ” like. At least to me, a lot of people's arguments sound self-contradictory all the time; but that doesn't mean people should stop having fun and characterize the characters as they like! Just, let's stop being mean to each other and try to be a little more accepting towards others' takes, shall we? And yes that also includes letting people find Atsushi annoying if they find him annoying (although like, I've NEVER found anyone call Atsushi annoying ever, so really, what remote fandom spaces is everyone visiting? Why are you looking for clothes (good takes) at the soup store (Tik/tok I assume?) ).
Song i associate with them: Common World Domination by Pinocchio-P, HIBANA by DECO*27, Ghost Rule by DECO*27, so on and so forth.
Favorite picture of them:
Favourite panel from the manga:
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Favourite illustration: Look, there's too many beautiful illustrations, I can't chose. Here's a very good one though.
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Favourite illustration in the anime art style:
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But also:
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Favourite Mayoi card:
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Send me a character?
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icedragonlizard · 1 day
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I'm probably going to be obliterated for this, but I'm bold enough.
I think it eventually deserves to be said, anyways.
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Consider this the follow-up to a post I wrote a few days ago.
For clarification, I'm not at all trying to say that the whole Mecha Knight thing in Planet Robobot wasn't messed up. Overall, it was messed up. Yes, what Susie did to Meta Knight was indeed quite bad.
But it's very clear that the Kirby fandom has absolutely blatant double standards when it comes to this sort of thing.
While it's understandable to find enjoyment in milking angst out of such an incident, I believe that people exaggerate Mecha Knight.
Some people love to go on about how Meta Knight suffers from horrible medical trauma after Planet Robobot. About how much he hates Susie's guts, will never ever forgive her, and wants her to die. About how this was basically the worst thing to ever happen to him.
But if I'm being honest, I don't think Mecha Knight was that much different from all the times that King Dedede has been possessed.
Where's all the talk about Dedede being traumatized from all his possession incidents? Hello?!?!? Do people just act like he's not that traumatized or that he easily toughs out his possession incidents while Meta Knight was just messed up so darn bad by being a robot?
Actually, I have seen people talk about Dedede being traumatized by Dark Matter, but it's absolutely nothing like talk about Mecha Knight. Still double standards.
To be fair, I can somewhat understand the big discrepancy of how Mecha Knight is treated compared to Dedede's possessions. After all, Meta Knight is quite literally the Kirby's fandom blorbo (aside from Magolor, I guess) and turning someone into a robot against their will can very much indeed be a lot more nerve-striking in comparison.
But was Mecha Knight really truly so much worse than Dedede's possessions? Does it really deserve to be treated like it's such an unfathomable, unspeakable, harrowing tragedy... compared to Dedede's incidents being treated like they're no big deal at all?
... In my opinion, no.
Meta Knight shook off roboticization pretty quickly after the second Mecha Knight fight. He's then quick to get on top of the Halberd while the rest of his crew gets it up and flying. Funny how it's that instead of him just sitting there crippled and helpless after the robot armor breaks off of him. I dunno about you guys, but he looks fine!
While I myself do imagine that he'd certainly have been somewhat messed up and traumatized by being a robot, and while I do imagine he would be mad at Susie over it for a while, I sincerely don't agree to the extent of how some people depict it. It didn't ruin his life like some people think. It hurt him, but not ruin him. He's been through bad stuff before. If you ask me, it's more like a "regular Tuesday" for him instead of being the absolute total life-ruining experience for him. He's been able to heal from the incident and is doing just fine.
And for the record, I don't buy into the "Meta Knight hates Susie SO MUCH and wants her dead" headcanon. I don't necessarily headcanon them being friends, and I think he was initially angry at her, but his anger at her slowly fades in my opinion.
Can we please not overlook some of Dedede's possession incidents? Let's not pretend that Taranza is an innocent little guy and that he hasn't hurt Dedede before. Although I believe that being used like a puppet by Taranza was far from Dedede's worst possession incident.
I like to imagine that Dedede suffered from true traumatization from 2 out of the 3 times he's been possessed by Dark Matter, as well as the time he's been possessed by Fecto Forgo during Forgotten Land.
He's been able to heal and get better, but it did hurt him at first.
Dark Matter lowkey turned his stomach into a set of jaws, and then formed a giant unnerving eyeball onto his stomach. That had to hurt, methinks. It also wouldn't help if one were to interpret that Dark Matter was preying on Dedede's flaws, making him easy to possess.
When Dedede was possessed by Fecto Forgo, he was ordered to hurt his own waddle dees. He couldn't have felt good about that afterwards, especially with how much he's shown to care about his waddle dees to the point he goes out of his way to save one singular waddle dee from the stampeding Beast Pack after he's been freed.
In my opinion, if Meta Knight has been messed up by Susie, then I think that there's no way Dedede hasn't been a little messed up one way or another by the Dark Matter and Fecto Forgo possessions as well. While I certainly believe he's been able to heal and overcome them, I think he was hurt over them initially after they were over. For me, it's basically the same of how Meta Knight had a phase of being traumatized by what Susie did to him until he's come around to heal.
I prefer to think that the incidents are similar instead of just "OMMGG poor meta knight was screwed up so darn bad, and dedede's possessions weren't really a big deal, they were much much less bad."
And I don't at all call for anyone to hate on Taranza, Dark Matter, Fecto Forgo, Yin Yarn or anyone else that has possessed Dedede. They don't deserve that, in my opinion. Just like how I think Susie is honestly not deserving of the level of hate she's received for Mecha Knight.
Was Mecha Knight a messed up incident? Yes. But let's not pretend that some of Dedede's possessions weren't messed up as well. Mecha Knight is certainly more nerve-striking... but from an objective standpoint, it's not significantly worse. And I think Dedede has overall faced more trauma than Meta Knight has, since the former has been possessed much more times. Sorry, but I don't think one robot incident outweighs multiple possession incidents. I just don't.
HAL doesn't at all appear to treat Mecha Knight like it's so much worse than all of the times that King Dedede has been possessed.
Oh wow, this is getting a bit long, but yeah that's basically it. I just felt like it needed to be said that it's almost absurd that Meta Knight being turned into a robot once is all it takes for the fandom to metaphorically riot on the streets while ignoring Dedede's possession incidents.
I'm well aware that I might be playing with fire while writing this. But I'm bold. I'm gonna brace myself for however some people react to this. Not sure if it'll get to the point where I'll be forced to delete this.
The double standards in this fandom gets on my nerves.
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diasdelfuego · 2 days
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For @iwtvfanevents' Rewind the Tape, I’m rewatching the first season and going over some old posts about it too. I hoped this liveblog would be shorter than the one for the first episode, but that did not happen. Better luck next time, I guess. 
Opening shot
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Mr. de Pointe du Lac covets the rare.
While the pilot opens with Daniel’s ad, which we soon after learn Daniel himself is watching on his TV, episode two opens with a glimpse of Marius’s painting that is, you realize after a second, shot from behind Daniel’s shoulder. You might think that the camera panning upwards follows the direction of his gaze.
Now, in HD and with headphones on, I do hear the groan! 
Tintoretto, born 1518, started working in the 1540s, died 1598.
In the chronicles, Armand is born ~1482 and turned ~1499; and Marius’ palazzo is attacked shortly after —let’s say within the year, I don’t remember the specifics. In the show, Armand has either spent 514 years as a vampire, meaning he was turned in 1508, or has lived 514 years in total, meaning that he was born in 1508 and was probably turned in his mid-twenties, so 1530s. Of course, I favor the first interpretation, because I’m me and I love to make things more complicated than they need to be but, in any case, it doesn’t sound like Marius would have actually been “a contemporary” of Tintoretto’s if Armand was kidnapped by the cult shortly after turned, so we could have another case of vampires being inaccurate about time, or a hint that the timeline has changed considerably. 
Ugly ass painting, by the way. 
But we get our first look at the Bechet. 
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Danny put on a nice little shirt and jacket for his dinner date! 
There’s no way that the groan isn’t plot-relevant. Lestat in chains? Akasha in the basement? Armand getting annoyed? Claudia’s ghost? Place your bets now! 
I love Armand, sorry, I mean, “Rashid” turning on the music from his little iPad —I totally didn’t realize he was doing it until I rewatched. 
Daniel, kill yourself. 
He knows he fumbled his bag and it’s not looking like he’ll get to hit. RIP to him. (/not serious)
“I serve a God. It is my honor to serve.”  “...having a hand in the divine plan.”   “He was my murderer, my mentor, my lover, and my maker…”  “...there was present a kind of worship on my part.”  “You alone, under the rising moon… can strike like the hand of God.” 
Normal show. 
Dinner date (part I) 
“Mr. de Pointe du Lac will join you at course seven.” “Seven? Wait, but how many courses are there? Fattening me up for the inevitable end?”
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Unfortunately I do find Daniel funny. That’s my worstie right there. 
I love how this whole scene is set up. 
Any table with this amount of candles immediately turns the meal into a date, I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules. 
Duck foie gras terrine, pickled fruit, roasted apple bonbon.
“The liver of a duck or goose that has been carefully fattened is used to make the upscale culinary product known as foie gras. (...) Foie gras terrine is a dish made from force-fed duck or goose liver that has been chopped and mixed with fat.”
Oh, so they are making a little joke. LOL.
Danny looks on with concern as the employees —all wearing the same black latex gloves as “Rashid” and all wearing masks as well— wrap the other end of the table in saran wrap. 
Oysters. Pig’s foot. Different oysters. Is he being served champagne? The oysters are very funny to me. 
You missed at least three or four endangered species.
Loved what @feedingicetothedog said about this: “...what he chose to serve daniel, ultimately leading daniel to participate in predatory, unethical consumption alongside louis. (...) serving daniel these meals attempts to force a reluctant empathy (one that daniel rejects and instead voices his disgust).” 
Oooh, she looks so gorgeous in that black kaftan! 
I want to apologize for my outburst earlier. I can assure you, it will not happen again.
First time watching, and several times after, I was convinced this must be the following day. It took me a while to realize this is shortly after the ending of episode one —an hour later, maybe?— and so the “outburst” that Louis is referring to is that one (1) single tear. 
I LOVE YOU INSANE GIRL!
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(Also, very funny to revisit my original liveblog. I start by saying this episode didn’t work as well as the pilot, then still give it 4.5/5 stars again. And now it’s tied for my favorite one.)
Your memory is a monster; you forget—it doesn't. It simply files things away. It keeps things for you, or hides things from you—and summons them to your recall with will of its own. You think you have a memory; but it has you! ― John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany
But Daniel says “we” forget. Uh.
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“Ajoblanco. Bread, crushed almonds, garlic, olive oil, and salt, a garnish of green grapes, and AB negative, fresh from the farm. Bon appétit.” “Part of me wants to ask about the farm.” “Two vampires walk into a church. That's where we left off.” “Blissing out post-priesticide.”
The garlic has to be another joke, come on. 
And serving cold soup should count as torture. 
I remember noticing this before but I missed it this time, and @crazykuroneko’s liveblog brought me back to it: “two vampires walk into a church,” like it doesn’t matter that Louis was still human when he walked in, he was always going to end up here.
Anyway, Louis is so funny here. Daniel is so funny here. This whole sequence is delightful to me. I do find it interesting, characterization-wise, that Louis deflects from the question of the farm and Daniel lets him derail. Screenwriting-wise it makes sense that they’d save the details for later, but it’s still curious in-story.
Wedding night / First hunt
Are you hungry, Louis?
(Loved that @meastyeyes pointed out how important this question is, how it sets up a core conflict not just of the episode but of Louis’s character arc.)
We start with “apprenticeship,” on minute three, and then we’ll hear “taught,” “master,” “student,” “pupil,” “mentor,” through the whole episode. Welcome to Vampirism 101. 
Sam and Jacob in the flashback are great. Slapstick comedy isn't dead! Sam perfectly delivers Lestat’s tirade while snapping limbs like he’s doing chores, and Jacob’s physicality starting this scene and all the way to the coffin is simply excellent. 
Lestat is so annoying 😭 he needs to kill himself. 
Need to smoke a blunt with her so badly… 
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Had to pick the whole “Lestat’s blood was giggling inside me,” exchange as my favorite quote of the episode.
OK, face! 
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And the sound editing during Louis’s trip is crazy, actually, what the fuck. Have you guys heard it with headphones? It’s amazing. 
Lestat’s wine tasting speech is so annoying…
"Hunting is an art. You have the power to subdue anyone you want, but sometimes restraint is your most powerful weapon." "I was being hunted."
Lestat, kill yourself.
If Armand had been Louis’s maker he would have gotten him all the beefy hunks my princess wanted, not that goofy ass salesman.
KILL YOURSELF, LESTAT. 
Rolin Jones needs to be tried at the Hague for the “baby bird” line. By the way. 
Also, mentioned in that post about Louis’s feeding habits I linked above, golden utensils are used in very fine dining because they leave the least metallic aftertaste on the food. Later on in the episode he will use a golden spoon for his “human meal” —but now I’m noticing that he also uses it for the blood. 
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Back to the flashback, my girl looks like a tiny kitty cat. 
We get this moment of mind communication before Louis has fed and before his first sunrise —and before Lestat explains they can’t read each other’s minds, of course. There’s no further elaboration on when the “wall” comes up, but I’ve always had the idea that it’s that first “death sleep” that completes the transformation. 
Back to what I was saying about Jacob’s physicality, now I’m paying attention to how he gets rid of the cape and slumps against the wall before jumping the salesman. Between out-of-his-mind stoned and predatory, I love it. 
I always laugh at the salesman briefly wondering whether he’s walked into a gay threesome or he’s about to get serial-killed. Well. 
You don’t bite the blood, you suck it.
Another line that should count as a war crime. 
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Jacob’s acting as Lestat is disposing of the body —and through everything that follows— is so, so, so good. 
“I-I gotta go home.” “This is your home now, Louis. Breathe.” “I... I gotta collect money from the cribs.” “I have all the money we need. Breathe.” “I have to go see Grace and Paul.”
God, what an actor. 
We’ve called this episode the “honeymoon era,” but first comes this wedding night and Louis acts every bit the shell-shocked bride. And we’re back to the question of meaningful consent from the “marriage” scene. 
In the list of moments that we can interpret as Louis adding a bit of color to his narration, in the pilot we have Lestat’s “hunting” scene and that first moment in the card room before Louis comes in, then Lestat standing on the balcony calling out to him; now we add Lestat’s “You’re gonna find that very difficult,” to the list. Sam is also doing great work through this whole sequence, I want Lestat dead. I remarked on his delivery of this line during my first watch, and I keep getting hung up on it. If this is Louis’s narration, he would have been more than entitled to paint Lestat as mocking or cruel, but here he comes off almost pitying. 
I love the burning effects. I remember someone —not sure if it was an actor, writer or crew member— said something about how they designed vampire burns to look different from human burns, and I think the result is solid. Makes me think more of coal than skin. 
I should have taught you that.
KILL YOURSELF, LESTAT. 
Bridal carry! 
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And our first look at how Lestat has adapted Rue Royale for his vampiric life. You gotta love the set design. 
The laissez-faire attitude of the local police force…
For you, perhaps. 
The perfect setting for a vampire home. A vampire romance.
Someone brought up a sequence from the books, from Body Thief, I think, in which Lestat talks about falling for a given mortal and building them up in his mind and making up a whole narrative of what their love would be like; and you can certainly see that Lestat right now. 
"You've had a long life, Louis, and such an extraordinary one ahead. Have a rest." “She's coming up on 33.” “It's a lick and a promise in vampire years.”
KILL YOURSELF, LESTAT.
It's okay. You can be on top.
They thought they were being sooo funny. I’m sure Anne thought she was being hilarious with the closet line too. 
Something I caught in my first liveblog: we don’t see Louis and Lestat kiss in this episode —still, their relationship doesn’t come off as “toned down” at all. 
Dinner date (part II)
Helluva bender.
Trying so hard not to quote every line of this episode, but I love Louis’s, “Death, rebirth, coming out, homicide…” —perfectly delivered.
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To satisfy your fixation…
GET HIM AGAIN!
And “To the shame of queer theorists everywhere,” still makes me laugh. 
Daniel needs to kill himself, but Louis is still bullshitting. The question remains, does he know he’s bullshitting? Has he convinced himself that he had anything resembling a free choice at his disposal? Does it help? 
Provocation. Is this the primary tool one walks away with after downloading your Internet class?
Ugly laughing. The version of this line that exists in my mind has Louis saying “your li’l Internet class,” and I’m always surprised when he doesn’t actually say that. 
Daniel doesn’t have anything to answer to that. Eat shit, old man. 
(Back to my old liveblog: I didn’t like Daniel’s annoying soundbite quips because, quoting myself, “the writers are using him to editorialize their own narrative a little bit too hard” but now I adore every insufferable one-liner stolen from Twitter precisely because the writers are so effectively using them to editorialize. I contain multitudes, I guess.)
Rabbit, three ways, and Vulpes rueppellii, or Ruppell's sand fox.
Not actually an endangered species, I looked it up. 
The puppet is so funny.
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Rather than point out how Louis’s declaration here plays off against the end of the episode, let me just link to @iwtvfanevents’ scene highlight. Performing as Lestat, all the more interesting now that we have seen the whole season and we know that the entirety of what we saw has been a performance. Masks upon masks upon masks. 
That's the purpose. Our book must be a warning as much as anything…. It was the right line of questioning.
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I’m always on this line. The first interview was a fluke, an accident. This interview is purposeful. There are things Louis is hoping to achieve here, and he needs Daniel for that. I know I wrote something like this before but who knows where that was, but I really think that, alongside all the other reasons why Louis could want Daniel, specifically, here, the fact that he’s presented as a no-bullshit, no-punches-pulled type of journalist speaks to a sort of authority, a credibility Louis is looking for. He doesn’t want a transcriber, he wants someone who will see even through his own lies. Maybe this whole sequence is a test, actually: if you can cut through the bullshit here, then you just might be the right guy to help me pick my memories apart. 
Anyway, this is all speculation, but one of the most interesting lines of the season, to me. 
Mind-reading lessons
Killin' folks ain't a second language.
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Obligatory mention that I can’t believe people think Lestat is talking about himself in “I have English consonants to thank for this astonishing jawline.” He’s literally ogling Louis right there. HOW WOULD LEARNING ENGLISH AT 150 YEARS OLD CHANGE THE SHAPE OF HIS JAWLINE. Pissing on the poor website. Anyway, moving on now. 
Wandering eyes. Kill yourself, Lestat. 
This is definitely within a few weeks of Louis’s turning. If we want to be generous with Lestat we might think it’s the following night, and he hasn’t had a real chance to mention the mind gift before now. If we want to be generous, that is. 
(That still means he’s ogling other people that soon after, so… I don’t even need to say it.)
Every human thought boils down to three things… "I want food," "I want sex," "I want to go home."
Still on this line.
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It's not cheating with a woman because I can't get pregnant.
Icon! 
Peel back on me, then, what am I thinking right now?
It’s not a light delivery, and he looks troubled as he looks at Lestat. I wish he told us (Daniel) more of how he felt about this whole matter. 
In my original liveblog I was moved by “lestat’s almost pained admission that they are now “at each other’s discretion”. such a quiet, subdued scene, and yet it presents the core conflict not just of the episode, but of the show: “a sacrifice is made when the dark gift is shared”.”
Later I added that “louis lost that, the miracle of having someone who understood his affection without him needing to pull his teeth trying to express it. at the center of him there's a sense of alienation from other people that he has never been able to overcome, and during those months, lestat was the one place where he belonged. with him louis was seen, but the moment he was turned, lestat could no longer see all of him. he still had to wear a dozen different faces, and now a new mask for the one person with whom he thought he wouldn't need it.” 
Here, in “Just like the meat,” Louis tries to appeal to their similarity with humans, and Lestat dismisses him. Next episode, he tries to appeal to their superiority over humans, and Lestat dismisses him again. Funny how that works. 
You're not one of them anymore, fledgling. You chase after phantoms of your former self. I'll break you of it.
Lestat, kill yourself.
Back to the past
We’ll miss Nora’s entrance with the Christmas tree.
Where is Z’s post about how Lestat is just sitting through these plays about abusive patriarchs and creepy old men going ho-ho-ho while at his side Louis is trying to make the entire opera house go up in flames. 
Mama du Lac looks so fancy. 
And she’s so startled when Louis answers to her (homophobic) thoughts. 
You seen my alligator, ma’am?
He’s so corny 😭 
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The costume department is not at all subtle, Louis and Grace are wearing almost the exact same shade of cream. And sorry to buy into Kalyne’s Grace propaganda, it’s true that she could have visited and it’s true that the family is happy to live off of Louis’s pocket while looking the other way, but you can’t tell me she doesn’t love her brother. It’s funny that she just takes on the new eyes with the one comment, but her “Better you,” comes off genuine.
Jacob’s acting in the scene with the racist attorney is so incredible. Thinking back about what Eric says about real actors shining in the subtle stuff, and this is a prime example. In the eyes and the way the smile gets more and more forced. No wonder they used this scene in that talkshow, alongside with Jacob’s narration in Dubai it’s some of his most incredible work of the season. And of course, the delivery of his monologue is impeccable. Like the church confessional, just a perfect arrangement of words. For sure one of the best scenes of the season. Such a satisfying moment. 
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(Also: “I wasn't a man anymore. I was something else.” Only next episode do we get to “I am a vampire.”)
Louis looks gorgeous in this white suit covered in blood, and I love his gesturing both during the Dubai narration and during this flashback argument. 
“You are a library of confusion.”  “Some things you don’t get about America, Lestat.” 
But he was happy to pretend he understood when he was “courting” Louis. Which brings us back to mind-reading —he could understand what it was for Louis to endure constant humiliation and marginalization as long as he was literally seeing Louis’s thoughts and feelings, but he’s unwilling or unable to exert any actual effort once that shortcut is no longer available to him. 
A couple of parish priests go missing, people say, "Fine. Most likely kid-fiddlers."
I missed this one the first time around, very good bit. 
“Fledgling” twice in like 15 seconds. Kill yourself, Lestat.
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“Oh, you need to stop using that word right now, 'cause it's soundin' a little like "slave".” “Don't say it.” “Well, that's what it fuckin' sound like. It's what it feel like sometimes.”
What a change it is to go from Lewis the slaveholder to Louis. A lot has been written about this, like this post or this article; but on this rewatch I’m struck by the contrast with this scene from the book:
“[Vampires are] jealous of their secret and of their territory; and if you find one or more of them together it will be for safety only, and one will be the slave of the other, the way you are of me.’ ‘I’m not your slave,’ I said to him. But even as he spoke I realized I’d been his slave all along. ‘That’s how vampires increase...through slavery. How else?’ he asked.”
I do love the cursing and Lestat’s hair-flip. 
If disrespect was done to you…
@sygoflyy already said everything that needs to be said about that “if” here.
And I’ll say it for an eighth time, and no more…
Kill yourself, Lestat.
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First look at their couples’ coffins. Delightful. 
I’m still curious about whether that’s Gabrielle up there.
And I know it’s pointless to even engage with it but I think it’s crazy that people really saw this scene (and everything that preceded and followed it) and decided Louis is a materialistic gold digger. Be fucking for real. 
Time jump
That's a mighty tall ladder you're climbin', Mr. du Lac.
Kill yourself, Fenwick. 
No “sirs” after Louis becomes owner of the Azalea, I know that’s right. 
Also, who pointed out that Lestat did his hair like a “founding father”??? He looks ridiculous!!!
(And I really can’t stop seeing the body double.)
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We skip forward five years (very effectively, I must add!) and Louis changes from bridal whites to damnation reds. 
My club, my rules. I opened the doors to anyone with money to burn. I paid the staff better, paid the band better, all the while helping those who had been with me down the block to better themselves.
In just a minute we’ll see that in the modern day, Louis keeps himself convinced of his own morality —or tries to convince Daniel of it?— with pretty much the same arguments. 
Brick looks so good. Hi, wife! 
And it was a pointless point of pride that I paid back every cent I borrowed from Lestat.
Alliteration fans everywhere cheered! I find this so interesting! Pointless because Lestat had so much money it made no difference, pointless because it didn’t earn him Lestat’s respect, pointless because he would lose everything eventually? 
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Speaking of things lost, we’re back to the du Lac family home. Is Grace’s dress a sleeping gown? 
Still on my Grace apologia agenda. Yes, she’s resentful, but the affection is genuine. Their laughs after she says “I’m sure Mamaw would love to see you,” are so real and so bittersweet.
I’ll go back to the dinner date soon, but I love how this sequence plays out, Louis’s mouth literally watering, the growing fangs. Perfect moment of suspense. 
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Dinner date (part III)
I no longer kill. My last victim was in the year 2000.
Just like at the beginning of the episode, I find it interesting that Daniel asks a macro-question (“...is the pandemic the opening they've been waiting for?”) but ends up focusing on the more personal aspects of Louis’s story.
Obviously, it makes sense on a meta-narrative level to lay the foundations for a grander plot but not overwhelm the audience with it right now. And I really don’t want to get to that bigger arc. Queen of the Damned was a nonsensical book, and right now I fail to visualize a good adaptation of it. I mean, the writers have proved themselves with the first season, so I’m less wary than I was when I first watched this episode, but still… 
Anyway, back to the point, we get a very good glimpse of Louis’s reasoning, or what he’s pretending is his reasoning, who knows, to make peace with the existence he leads: 
What on earth would a meth-addicted son of a coal miner in West Virginia want with eternal life? Or the Arab youth whose family were wiped from existence by a Western drone?
Maybe because he has no counter-argument, maybe because he heard himself in that tape recording begging for immortality, Daniel instead aims at the soft spot he’s found, poking at Louis about his nephew.
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And here comes Damek. I don’t think I’d noticed how shiny his shirt was before the Blue-Ray rip. He really looks like he’s going clubbing. 
The slap to the vein. I’m just so obsessed with him. 
Go to Kite Beach. It's good. Kites.
Normal situation. 
Anyway. import and maintenance of food technologies is still my canon for Damek. 
Can’t help but notice that the meat Daniel is eating in this scene is pretty rare. 
And of course he looks disgusted, he has to. But I don’t believe him one bit. 
Back to the past (reprise)
“I ain't never gon' have a family of my own, am I? No sons, no daughters.” “I'm your family, Louis.”
I was gonna make a joke about how people suffering from baby fever get when smelling a baby’s head but it seemed in poor taste.
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I think someone pointed out that both Louis and Claudia, articulating the loss of their humanity, call back to traditional familiar structures: “Maybe I'd have a handsome husband by now. Or maybe he'd be plain but with a good disposition. That'd be fine, too. I'd be sweepin' floors, makin' dinners, nursin' babies.”
You can make your arguments to justify Lestat’s isolating tactics, sure, but the outright negging that follows??? I do love the line “a challenge every sunset,” I can’t lie, but I hope he blows up. Also, “as imperfectly perfect as you’ve become” is a word choice that gives me pause now that I’m thinking of Lestat saying “I put you on this Earth.” 
Gifts in lieu of apologies. (Earlier, no apologies either. Now I can’t remember who said it, but, “Well, what can I do to make it up to you?” was literally Lestat asking for a shortcut.)
Louis’s smile… Girl, he doesn’t deserve you!!!
He had a way about him, those first years, Lestat. Preternaturally charming, occasionally thoughtful. He was my murderer, my mentor, my lover, and my maker… All of those things at once. He didn't choose me to be his doormat. I knew he enjoyed it when I fought back, but there was present a kind of worship on my part. The earth beneath me always felt liquid.
So much to unpack here. “Preternaturally” charming, the vampire trick clearly implied, even though now they’re both vampires and there should be no such magical charm. Only “occasionally” thoughtful. “My murderer, my mentor, my lover, and my maker,” is one of the craziest lines to ever be put on the screen. There’s nothing I can add to the myriad of posts made about this line, but “fought back” is insane. Fought BACK? GIRL. Worship is crazy too. And “The earth beneath me always felt liquid,” always takes my breath away. 
And the opera… 
Hold up, here's the post I was talking about.
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“Horny goldfish” deserves a Nobel peace prize.
Lestat is playing his role too well 💀 and the way he looks at Louis when he finally sits down and you can actually see him realize that Louis is not happy to play his fucking servant, like… Louis's narration before this (“We did what we always did…”) tells us that they'd done this before, how could he not have foreseen this? 
Just as later during the “reconciliation” in episode six, Lestat’s show of vulnerability seems genuine enough, which doesn’t mean that the choice to show vulnerability isn’t calculated manipulation. Unfortunately, it works. 
I wonder at the fact that this seems to be the first time in six years Louis asks after other vampires.
I do love the “...articulating the difficult love we often had trouble expressing ourselves” line, it’s a gorgeous bit of writing. There was a post going around recently paralleling this line to the Antoinette affair, a parallel I found very compelling since I’ve always been of the idea that the affair more than merits paying attention to because of what it tells us about Lestat, about Louis, and about their relationship. 
The curtain fell like a guillotine.
I’m in love with him. 
Nursing my complicity.
In episode six: “Mindless accomplices.” 
Something from my original liveblog that I still think has some merit: “i get the impression that this episode was trying to tackle some of the events that surround the original [claudia’s turning sequence] and recontextualize them. instead of nearly killing little claudia, louis is so starved he is tempted to kill his sister’s baby; and instead of terrorizing two young sex workers, lestat insults and demeans the chorus singer before killing him slowly; but thematically the scenes felt very similar to the pages that surround claudia’s turning.” In retrospect, this is certainly a reversion of the scene with the two sex workers, since the whole “You are a killer, Louis,” sequence is a perfect replica of the movie scene, which is in turn adapted from that book moment —I don’t remember right now if I had ever watched the 1994 film before the show, but I did after the season finished airing. 
And I did mention in that first liveblog that I didn’t necessarily agree that they’re “hannibalifying” Lestat. This is not at all outside of the scope of how Lestat behaves in the books. And Hannibal is a Lestat rip-off anyway, so a fun little feedback loop we have there. 
Jacob Anderson is so gorgeous. What the fuck. 
Sorry, I still hate the “...for a third time and no more” bit. 
Everything Sam is doing in this last bit of the scene should count as a war crime. By the way. 
From my first liveblog: “reid’s delivery of the “you are a killer” rant was masterful, and i loved to see molloy genuinely affected by the story. also, the scene was beautiful! not just jacob’s perfect face, but the blood on white suits, the golden tint from the flames on their faces, both the voiceover and lestat’s exhortation.”
Still just as stunning a year and a half later.
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Dinner date (part IV)
My favorite scene of the whole episode. This is already long enough as it is, so let me redirect you to a separate post for my thoughts on Louis and Daniel sharing some ice-cream, and let’s wrap this up here. How considerate of me. 
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Final thoughts
This is such an uniquely paced episode, and it’s actually crazy how subdued and intimate it feels when it’s just as packed as the pilot. The ending still catches me unprepared every time.
I closed my original liveblog hoping that episode three would kick it up a notch, and it sure did! Now that I’m paying more attention to the way the episodes mesh together, I see why the pacing for the whole season works so well: the action-packed episodes five and seven are also separated by a somewhat slower episode, more interior and charged with tension; and Claudia’s entrance likewise marks a sharp turn and introduces a moment of bright bubbling energy between the two fairly gloomy halves of the season. Looking forward to seeing how they arrange season two. 
I just love what this episode does. We ended that first episode with Lestat’s promise that vampirism would give him power, and with power, freedom. 
This episode starts to show the caveats in that promise, the cracks in the foundation. 
As put in this fantastic post: 
the lie is that there is a process which can deliver someone from grief without having to face that grief, that there is a place you can go where suffering and violence can no longer reach you. as the season progresses we see the scale and scope of this lie; the deliverance that lestat promised reveals itself as a new configuration of the same problems which plagued louis in life only in more concentrated form. for example, louis says in the confessional that he sees his business as a kind of vampirism -- "i profit off the miseries of other men, and i do it easy;" but instead of escaping this dynamic by being turned he only encounters it in a more overt form wherein instead of making money off others' emotional suffering, he sustains his existence by inflicting physical suffering and death. his struggle to find alternatives to indiscriminately killing humans throughout the season shows just how completely he has failed to extricate himself from the moral quandary he tried to outrun by giving himself over to lestat.
They have laid all the ground for next episode’s conflict and the entire season’s arc. And by the end of the episode we know, or at the very least we suspect, that this core conflict that he was dealing with a century ago still follows his every step. 
I think it’s in this episode that we finally start to understand who Louis is. Of course, we got an idea of who he was in the pilot, but we were focused on past Louis, on the human Louis, a version of him that was meant to die by the end of the episode. This is the version of him that we’re actually dealing with, the person that we are watching Louis becoming in the past. 
We see him talking about treating his employees well while working in the sex industry, talking about why the underprivileged would choose vampirism, and then “feeding” from Damek. The clear connection between blood and sex that episode one first introduced and this episode remarked upon. Louis washing off the taste with a ritual performance of humanity that tries and fails to serve as penance for his continued parasitic relation to people he knows, even if he tries to play it off, he’s exploiting. He’s no longer starving himself but this is still a form of self-flagellation. The least harmful one, something that Armand would be amenable to enabling? But, of course, we don’t know about Armand yet. 
What we do know is that Louis hasn’t solved this core contradiction, just like he hasn’t gotten over his grief. We know he’s still performing. We suspect a lot of what he’s saying or doing might be bullshit! He’s fucking with Daniel and, by proxy, with us! He’s playing a character, he’s telling a story, and we should do well to remember that. But he opens up sometimes. He’s willing to put his heart on the table between them for Daniel to examine, and we’re wondering why. 
(Briefly back to Damek: in the pilot, Louis talked about coming to accept his sexuality (and arguably drew a parallel between his experience and Daniel’s) after a scene that clearly tied blood to sex and “intimacy”. That connection was only reinforced this episode, but it also told us Louis’s relationship with blood remains troubled, which leads us to wonder if his sexuality is similarly a point of conflict still. I think everything that can be said about this has been said already, so let me link to two great posts on the topic: this one, and this one.)
Anyway, what this episode does for our contemporary Louis, and what Jacob Anderson does for our contemporary Louis are just masterful. 
Another perfect piece of television. Ten stars. A hundred stars. 
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Someone give some kind of award to Daniel Hart right now.
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AAYYEE the 218th's Urban Crisis Response's very own Crisis Company as a revamped Draw the Squad!
after a year and a half worth of drawing practice, I like to think I've come a long ways, though my squad themselves have changed very little
Though if you're new here, perhaps some introductions are in order? Below the Cut
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Captain Jet - Leader of the 218th's Crisis Company and Heartbeat of the Family
Captain Jet, formerly known as Corporal Jettison before he lost nearly the entirety of his Company during the first battle of Geonosis, only gained his rank due to the combination of a field promotion and a paper pusher rushing to get the 218th put back together with what forces they could get their hands on after their devastating first deployment, without vetting his Shiny New Promotion through the proper channels. Nevertheless, Captain Jet is dedicated to his soldiers, and to being the Kindest man he can be, not wanting any to suffer the burden of loss and shame he felt as everyone he ever grew up with died in the first week of the war.
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Lieutenant Margo - Second in Command of Crisis Company and one of the Finest Technician's money can Make
The first Addition to the newly reformed Crisis Company, Margo left behind her own squad command to be the second to her Captain, Jet. Trusting in his judgement, Margo would follow him to hell and back, though for the first half of the war she largely follows him to a glorified guard posting for the republics embassy and shipping warehouses on Brentaal. She's a fine Leader and an even better Tech, though her specialties lay much closer to Mechanics than to Code-breaking. The only thing that tops her technical skills is her love of having a Fun Time. Body and Mind of a Super Soldier, personality of 'if a frat-boy was a girl'
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Specialist Nihlus Brek - Ancient Sith Archivist and a loving Guardian of his squad with a Sadistic streak
After being shown selfless kindness by the Captains personal squad after the loss of his clan and his rough awakening from a forced stasis, with the 'permission' of the Jedi Council, Sith Lord Nihlus Brek now serves in the GAR under the command of Captain Jet, the only man who's orders he follows without hesitation or question, killing or healing as needed for the man he now calls 'Alor and Brother. Though it is true he holds love for his squad, the real secret of his unwavering loyalty is the Blood Oath he swore to Captain Jet, his orders now bound by sith alchemy, Nihlus has given his leader unwavering control over both their destinies.
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Sergeant Cynic - Heavy Weapons Expert and Artist with an Attitude
Though an Urban Crisis Response unit doesn't particularly need a soldier who's second greatest passion in life is blowing things up with his rocket launcher, Cynic earn his place on the squad through the power of nepotism. That is, Margo's one condition for leaving her previous squad behind with little complaint, was that she got to bring her favorite brother with. Although his name may suggest otherwise, this pessimist (though he considers himself a 'realist') has a love for all things pretty and colorful, and quite the talent for copying it down in his small sketchbook, always making room for his small assortment of watercolors in his combat kit.
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Corporal Lake - Spotter of the Squads Sharpshooter duo and self proclaimed Ethics Committee
Lake is likely the only one of the Captains squad that, once you get to know them, could be described as the republics ideal of a Good Soldier. That is, Lake is one of the few who spares even a second or third thought for the success of the mission and collateral casualties over the lives of his fellow squad mates. He is probably the only one who could say he would not give a thousand lives just to spare those he cares for. Nevertheless, although he has his own personal misgivings over the result of some of their missions, Lake is grateful for his life, for his family, and for the many chances he is given to fight another day. And, as always, his Captains word is Law.
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Corporal Torch - Deadeye of the Squads Sharpshooter Duo and resident Troublemaker
"We're here for a fun time, not a long time!" Are common words for Torch to say before getting his ass beat for replacing Cynics fancy face lotion with space Nair or being put on 'Fresher duty for his ballsey yet comedic insubordination. Captain Jet often says the only thing that stops Torch from being demoted to maintenance duty altogether is his skill with a rifle, hitting targets your typical human would have needed the force to even perceive. Though in truth, Jet would not trade Torch's levity and loyalty for the galaxy itself. Torch and Lake are mirrors of one another, by choice, as it brings them great joy to be mistaken for one another by not only natural born humans, but also unfamiliar clones. As some of the last living soldiers from their original bloc of trained sharpshooting specialists, they refuse to be parted from one another, unable to bear the thought of losing the last of their batch.
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Field Medic Heron - Resident Healer with a Big Secret
Heron tired of front line Medicine fairly quickly, as his zest for death did not hold up to losing his brothers one by one, upon joining the Urban Crisis Response Specialists of the 218th, his steadfast work and easy bedside manner landed him his place in the Captains squad rather easily, and he took rather well to glorified guard duty. That is, until the fateful day where an assassin droid hidden among their cargo took his leg, though in a feat of the butterfly effect, directly led to the squad meeting their Sith. His secret? On shore leave, Heron likes to kill people. In order to stay in line with both his own ideas of morality and his Captains idea's of ethics, not that Jet hears of his activities from the medic directly, he dresses in plainclothes and limps around, waiting for some unfortunate mugger to make their move. Heron craves the feeling of holding someone on the brink of life, having power over their fate, and then denying them the salvation they seek. And maybe sometimes he takes a bite or two, but that's his business.
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Specialist Sprig - Explosive Ordinance Disposal Technician and Company Spymaster
Specialist Sprig, formerly of the 398th Ordinance Corps, got his name as a result of a growth tube malfunction in his infancy, leaving him 2 inches shorter than your average trooper. Despite this 'defect' as the Kaminoans would refer to it, Sprig would rank among the top of his batch with his skills in bomb diffusal, having a deft touch and a keen eye for detail. In a cruel and ironic twist of fate, Sprig's greatest fear is dying in an explosion, vaporization, desintigration, you name it. Reassignment to the 218th and his posting of glorified guard duty was a dream come true. Proton bombs vs backyard terrorists? Sprig knows exactly which he would take in an average day. With his keen eyes, sharp ears, and strong memory, Sprig also excels at information collection. His shorter stature and friendly demeanor is often very encouraging for those who have a burden they'd like to share, though one has to keep in mind, he has the ear of the Captain one short comm call away.
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coffeeandsadbooks · 12 hours
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In replies to my post a couple of people have expressed the opinion that Erik didn't care about Wille going through rough initiation/saw it as a necessary experience for his brother.
@raincitygirl76: "Erik wasn’t worried about Wilhelm’s upcoming initiation in 1.01 because Erik got initiated as a first year himself, and it was probably nearly as or just as brutal as the initiation he subjected August, Nils, Vincent etc to. It’s Wilhelm’s turn to suffer. In a few years it’ll be his turn to inflict the suffering. So Erik isn’t worried about Wilhelm.
That’s how hazing perpetuates itself. Most people who went through it and survived convince themselves it wasn’t as bad as they remember. So they pack their own kids (or in this case their kid brother) off to the place where they got hazed, and they don’t see it as a problem.
Erik would be considered a lousy Forest Ridge graduate if he gave his little brother a heads up beforehand that it would be brutal. Or if Erik asked August to go easy on Wilhelm. Erik doing so would imply to the current third years that Erik thinks Wilhelm is weak. If he cant get through the typical initiation unlike all the other boys, is Wilhelm even worthy of belonging to Forest Ridge?
So no, Erik would neither warn Wilhelm nor intervene with August."
I see how it could work in real life but it doesn't work for a piece of media. Because it is the opposite of good storytelling. Good storytelling means introducing important themes in the beginning, not two episodes before a series finale. Good storytelling means including hints and clues that start to make sense only after the reveals are made.
SA plotline turned out to be crucial for how conflicts in the show had been resolved. It was an important if not the main factor behind Wille's intention to renounce his title in the future. Therefore, SA plotline should have been treated as such since the very first episode.
If it was conceived as pivotal at the very beginning, we would see the signs of it.
For example:
Erik wouldn't look like a happy idiot while in Hillerska. Maybe he wouldn't have a talk with August or warn Wille, but we would see something was bothering him;
during the parents' weekend some of them could express their concern over initiation rituals back in their days;
the initiation August, Nils and Vincent went through should have been discussed — by them or by other senior students;
the warnings Hillerska supposedly got in the last decade would have been mentioned;
when Henry was talking about Hillerska's problem with applications or when the headmistress was insisting on August paying tuition, Hillerska's financial situation could have been connected to its toxic culture;
Sara's initiation was a great moment to give the audience a hint: yes, rituals of The Manor House are crazy, but they are nothing in comparison to the Forest Ridge ones.
None of that was done. A crucial plotline has been consistently treated as backdrop to the main plot. Why?
I don't follow interviews of the cast and creators, but my understanding is that Lisa Ambjörn has been actively participating in shaping a certain narrative around her writing. She specifically insists that the plot of the whole show had been established even before S1 started shooting.
SA plotline and the glaring absence of foreshadowing around it is just one example that makes me question this narrative.
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notfromcold · 3 days
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Make You Laugh
Eddie had never felt so wretched at the beginning of shoreleave. Normally feeling sick was confined to the last day as the crew suffered through their hangovers in an attempt to board the ship at least somewhat sober when the time came.
But Eddie hadn't had anything to drink. And he probably wouldn't get to. He'd have to pay the doctor and then shell out for a room in which to curl up for a few days and hopefully sleep it all off. That didn't leave anything for drink. It didn't leave much of anything for food either but one step at a time.
Fuck Hornigold and double fuck fucking Timothy (rest his soul).
Ed and Timothy had boarded the merchant ship together during the raid. The plan - the fucking plan - was that they'd fight together in the stern. But Timothy got ... excited or panicked or something and next thing Ed knew he was running up amidships slashing and hacking as he went. Which left Ed in the stern. By himself.
He'd done his best but his arm had gotten slashed all to hell. Which sucked but admittedly didn't hold a candle to what happened to Timothy when Hornigold found out he'd abandoned his post.
Ed hadn't fucking told. Timothy got himself caught up near the bow somehow and Ed heard the mate yelling "what are you doing up here?" and winced despite his frustration and the blood dripping down his arm.
Timothy was keelhauled later that night. And Ed was called forward by the mate and informed that he'd be holystoning the decks with sea water for losing control - shredded arm and all.
It hadn't been Ed's job to watch Timothy and he could tell the mate disagreed with the punishment. The mate didn't like when expectations weren't clear. But they were all just bobbing along in Hornigold's wake so the mate handed Ed the holystone and bucket and Ed holystoned the decks. His arm didn't like that.
His arm had not gotten better in the days that followed.
So now here he was on shoreleave, tired and sick and about to pay out all his share for a doctor and a bed to crawl into. Fuck.
"Eddie! Hey Eddie!" Jack popped out of a tavern door and ran up to Ed. "Wanna bet I can chug this whole gallon of milk?"
Eddie gave Jack a once over. He did, indeed, have a gallon of milk. "What do you have that for?" he asked.
"To chug. Nicked it when the barkeep's back was turned. Come on! Think I can chug it?"
"No," Ed said.
"Watch!" Jack winked, tipped his head back, and put the neck of the gallon to his lips. He started strong with at least five good swallows but he appeared to have forgotten he'd need to breathe at some point. His eyes began to take on a panicked look. At last he breathed in. But he forgot to take the bottle away from his lips so what he breathed in was milk.
Things got chaotic after that. Jack coughed and choked and wheezed and continued to pour a steady stream of milk down the front of his shirt.
Ed started laughing. He couldn't help it.
Then Jack started laughing, too. In between choking.
When Jack could speak again he rasped "Told you I could do it!"
That was it for Ed. "Fuck!" he gasped, laughing so hard tears ran down his cheeks. He kept trying to get himself under control then he'd look at Jack and start again.
Something was unfolding warm in his chest. That was the thing about a boy doing something stupid to make you laugh - it was stupid but it meant he wanted you to laugh.
"So where are you headed?" Jack asked once they'd finally laughed themselves out and Jack had wiped some of the milk out of his eyes.
Ed sighed. "Doctor. Fucked my arm up. Then inn, I guess. Need to sleep."
"Wanna go halvsies on a room?" Jack gave him an obviously calculating look.
"No, you'll be loud and invite the whole town over."
"Yeah, but you're fucked up enough to sleep through at least some of that. And I'll be gone during the day. Mostly. We can get a nicer room if we both chip in."
Ed thought about it. If he and Jack went in on a room together it would leave him enough coin to buy a square meal or two. And he'd have someone there if he got really sick. Jack was probably better than no one at all. Probably.
Ed would never tell but he was a little scared. At least someone would know if he died.
"Fuck it. Yeah. I'll go in on a room with you. Meet you at the inn?"
"Hell yeah!" Jack pumped the air. "Go do your doctor thing. I'll meet you at the inn."
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lunarharp · 1 year
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scribbly first date type affair (continuation of my modern au stuff)
#witch hat tag#orufrey#idk when the next modern au thing will be so i'll just post this by itself. hehe#that art was one of qifrey's first drawings. it was of a creepy eye. (it was around the time he got glasses as a kid)#(and was told that he might lose his sight completely one day so he became an emo because he already wanted to be an artist#like beldaruit who ran his foster home where he encouraged kids to draw art to express their feelings.)#and an insidious deviantart group called The Brimhats idk stole it & reposted it. he never got to the bottom of who exactly did it.#but one day. they will fucking suffer.#(he believes their goal was to develop AI art as they said stuff like 'all art should belong to everyone anyway' & 'there shouldnt be rules'#but actually they were probably just regular mean ppl who have moved on to new things in life than stealing kids' art on deviantart.#who knows though.) i want people to retain their disabilities or general tragedies like beldaruit would be in a wheelchair#and coco's mum is in a coma. but its just so funny if qifrey just has regular bad eyesight#and it's so cute that he would say he doesnt think of beldaruit as a dad & is distant with him but now basically runs a foster home too#where he doesnt just encourage like he was encouraged but actively teaches kids from sad backgrounds to become wonderful artists one day#anyway i am so fucking hungry now goodbye#P.S. BELDARUIT IS NOT OLD !!!!!!! i mean if qifrey is late 20s or older in canon like i want... i guess he..but.... NO !!!!!! 😭#*edits in some follow-up drawings*#oru: i couldn't c-c-confess my feelings bc it always seems like he's worried about something..i shouldnt bother him..#qif: *always worried about how to confess his feelings*#ive decided meeting at 7 on da is kind of ridiculous actually. i think they probably meet at like age 10 in canon..not immediately =_=#since beru-sama is like 'he finally found a friend'. whatever... this'll be my last art post for a while probably so see ya <3
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