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am-i-the-asshole-official · 18 hours

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AITA (30f) for losing my cool/snapping at my roommate and friend (30m, who I will call Kyle) because he was too loud playing games online with his friends?

For context, in case it's needed: this happened a couple months ago, but it's been on my mind. We are both autistic and thus got a late start in our adult lives, in several ways. We have been friends for 10 years and have lived together for roughly 7 of them, on and off (we adopted 2 cats together many years ago, its just easier like this so we dont have to separate them or force one of us to be away from the cats. we love them very much. kind of a coparenting situation lol). Kyle has a salaried tech job that's remote for 70% of the time, and I've recently become a full-time online college student after failing to "make it" without a degree.

We live in a tiny 2-bedroom house that Kyle's family owns. We're only charged for utilities, which is why neither of us are leaving anytime soon (contrary to what you might assume, Kyle does not make a lot of money), especially since it's giving me the opportunity to go to school full-time and not worry about rent. Kyle helps me a lot with groceries and other necessities and I do most of the chores.

So we are always basically on top of each other, and sometimes we get on each other's nerves. We try to be respectful of each others' space, but it's hard because there is not much space in the first place.

I had a really busy day studying and doing homework, which is basically every day for me, since I'm taking 6 classes, 4 of which are STEM classes. So I tend to fall asleep early if I'm not unintentionally pulling all-nighters. I was trying to sleep when this happened around 9pm.

He usually closes his door because he knows he can be very loud, but it doesn't help much. I ended up having to close my own door to try and drown out some of his yelling and laughing, which I understand is going to happen and I try not to hold it against him.

But then he opened his door and left it wide open, so I could hear everything, like he was in the same room. Something really funny must have happened because he started scream-laughing.

Despite this being a semi-regular weekly occurrence, I was really startled. I figured, it probably wasn't intentional and he'll try to quiet down and close his door. I tried to relax and as soon as I started to fall asleep, he did it again, except louder.

This time he didn't stop, he was full-on screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs. Kinda like those game streamers/youtubers where literally all they do is scream the whole time? Very similar. My cat, who was asleep under the blanket on top of me, got startled awake and scratched the shit out of my leg.

I think this all triggered a "fight" response because I was suddenly just so incredibly pissed at Kyle, which I tried to get under control, but he would not stop screaming and I literally could not hear myself think.

(I cannot wear earplugs or have anything in/covering my ears for huge sensory reasons.)

Then my cat wanted to leave the room to see what the commotion was, so I had to open the door, which gave me a direct line of sight to to Kyle at his computer.

I walked over to his doorway. Tried to knock and call his name, but he didnt notice with his noise cancelling headphones on. So I slammed my hand against his door to get his attention & yelled "Hey! Shut the fuck up, Kyle!"

He looked surprised to see me and laughed and kinds waved it off and said "sorry, it got a little intense" and he started to explain what they were doing.

I cut him off and said "I don't care. Shut the hell up." He said he could close his door again, and I said "No, you need to stop. Just stop! You're freaking the cats out too!" and I pointed to my leg with huge bloody scratch marks, shut his door, went back to my room, shut my own door. And of course after that I had adrenaline coursing through my body and I couldn't fall asleep anyway.

After that, I didnt hear a single sound from his room apart from an occasional quiet laugh. I started to feel guilty. I think I overreacted and ruined his fun. I know this is his way of blowing off steam halfway through the work week.

I also felt embarrassed because his friends probably heard me throwing a fit. We have lived with them before, and they're exactly that loud every single night. I have had to ask them to quiet down multiple times, and Kyle told me later on that gave them the impression that I'm. Well, "neurotic, controlling bitch" was heavily implied. Kyle is usually a lot more chill, but being around these guys influences him to act more like them.

But, I guess being loud while having fun isn't a crime, especially when it's not even 10pm yet. I feel like I proved his friends right, maybe.

The next morning I apologized, he apologized too, and everything seems to be good between us, but it's been a while and he's a lot quieter during game night now. He's such a reserved and stressed out person, he hardly ever laughs except when he's playing games, so I feel like I destroyed an important outlet.

I told another friend what happened and she said I didn't overreact at all and she would have flipped out way sooner if her husband did that. (Not sure it's comparable I mean we aren't married lol) And for the record, this friend and her husband were once part of a now-fractured friend group including Kyle and his game night friends, but grew apart, for a lot of reasons, but I think mainly because the Loud Gamer Friends never really grew up while everyone else matured and moved on to different phases in life.

Basically my friends current impression of Kyle is that he is a decent person but incredibly emotionally stunted and feels like he may unintentionally cope in ways that often hurt me without caring as much as she thinks he should. Which....feels partially accurate, I guess. But isn't that placing too much responsibility on him for my wellbeing? He does a lot for me, so it felt like an unfair thing to say.

My mom on the other hand, seems to fully think I am an asshole fun-ruiner. She thinks I should have tried harder to calm down. Maybe I should have approached him sooner - nicely.

And I agree. He probably would have tried his best to oblige even if he couldn't fully succeed. But that's the reason I didn't bother - in the past he has only been able to honor that kind of request for maybe 10-15 minutes, then forgets, and it's exhausting to keep reminding him.

Anyway... what does everyone here think?

#aita #am i the asshole

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strwberri-milk · 1 day

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Hello can I request for Rafayel x Fem! reader head cannons (you may add the other guys if you think it applies). It’s sort of angsty but (imo) mainly funny.

Rafayel is making his move, trying to show that he’s genuinely interested in the reader, but to his dismay she’s not getting it. The reader is pretty dense, so at the start she genuinely doesn’t get it. Later on, as Rafayel makes it a bit more obvious, and she picks up on it, but the is in denial. It could a be mix of insecurities, and not wanting to ruin the friendship, but she’d rather assume that he’s being friendly or that he’s just like that because they’ve grown closer as friends. So now the reader is in this weird state of being both dense and in denial while Rafayel is struggling. To top it all off, I think Rafayel would especially be frustrated when he does this nice bordering romantic gesture for the reader and all he gets as a reply is “oh, thanks dude!”

I hope this is all coherent. Thank you and have a nice day!

makes perfect sense!! i love. dense object of affection failing to see affection being given to them grr

Rafayel is rich, famous, and not to mention drop dead gorgeous. He's constantly surrounded by upper society and you just somehow became lucky enough to meet him during a chance encounter and now. somehow, he considers you his closest friend. Any of those things on their own would intimidate you greatly but the fact that he has all of them together makes it hard for you to believe he'll look at you as anything other than his friend.

Rafayel however looks at you and sees the life he wishes to have more than anything. He just wants quiet afternoons with you, to ramble out whatever thoughts he has in his mind, cook and take care of you. At first he was under the impression that his feelings were subtle. He thinks he's a good actor and for the most part he is very good at concealing his feelings but when you don't respond to anything romantic that he does he first thinks he wasn't obvious enough and ups the ante. This makes him become even more obvious to everybody around the two of you except for you for whatever reason.

It's gotten bad enough that he tried to surprise you with the works. Flowers, your favourite treats, some other trinkets that made him think of you all wrapped up in a pretty basket sitting on your doorstep when you came home and yet all he got in response was a string of emojis and a very platonic thank you. He's doing his best not to rip out his hair at how dense you are, finally realising that if he doesn't tell you straight up you'll never recognise his feelings for you.

You on the other hand had noticed that he was getting more romantic with you. You'd begun observing the things he does around other people versus you, knowing that he treats you differently than others by a great margin but also refusing to attribute such behaviours with a romantic intention. After all, why would he pick you out of literally anybody in the world that he could have?

You two are spending the evening together as per usual, Rafayel insisting you come over for dinner because he's received an exceptionally fresh batch of fish tonight and you absolutely have to try some. Conversation flows easily over the sound of your cutlery against the glass and you can't help but notice the soft look in Rafayel's eyes. It's as though he's dropped all his walls just for you in this moment, cheek resting against his palm as he listens to you speak.

"You really don't know how I feel about you?"

Your eyes widen as he speaks for the first time in a while. You were going on and on about something and he was more than happy to just listen to you do so, sitting back in his chair as he crosses his arms. You decide to play more dumb, biting back the doubt in your mind that he actually means what you hope he does.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you laugh, taking another bite of the food.

"Do you really think I'd do all of this for just anybody?" he asks with a chuckle, gesturing to the table.

"I - I mean we're close friends, aren't we? That's what I thought this was," you stutter, averting his gaze.

"We've been close for a while and you told me yourself I'm your best friend. You keep people at an arm's length and you just seem so lonely I don't want to even think about anything that could ruin our friendship."

You ramble a little, Rafayel carefully considering your words as you continue give him excuse after excuse as to why he wouldn't return your feelings for him.

It doesn't take him long to get fed up, scoffing a little as he comes around the table to stand beside you. He slips his arms around your shoulders, sighing happily as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

"You're really dense, did you know that?" he says against your skin, looking up at you.

"I do so much for you and you still don't know how I feel about you," he whines a little, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"I just didn't want to get ahead of myself," you finally admit, mind spinning from how close he is to you right now.

"Well, you aren't getting ahead of yourself at all. If it takes you even more to finally believe me then I guess I can keep going."

Despite the supposed annoyance in his voice you can tell by the way he slumps against you that he's glad the two of you are finally on the same page. You can't help but press up against him closer, putting a hand on one of his and rolling your eyes playfully at his dramatics.

#love and deepspace x reader #lds x reader #l&ds x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #lads rafayel x reader

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patolemus · 2 days

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Sterek fic recs: Fake Dating AU Edition

Because @oldefashioned requested a fake dating rec list, here it is. These are all very funny, as fake dating fics ought to be, so I hope you get a good laugh out of it.

1. Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Notes: Domestic pack, my beloved. Stiles and Derek are precious here, I LOVE THEM!! The visiting pack, not so much, but who cares about them?? It's all pretty lighthearted, all things considered. It's completed.

2. Electricity In the Contact by ladyblahblah

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

Notes: Werewolf convention fics are so good! I actually haven't found all that many, considering how common a trope it is, and it's a tragedy because they're always so well done! This one is no exception, and the mini-world building is also great! It's completed.

3. can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma." (Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Notes: this one is just *cheff´s kiss* wonderful! It's all pretty domestic and the humor is on point. College student Stiles and the Sheriff are strong armed into spending Thanksgiving with Stiles' grandma, and they find nothing better than to bring Derek with them. Pining and misunderstandings ensue and thus comes the fake dating. It's completed.

4. Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

“Three weeks,” Derek says. “Still don’t want to,” Stiles says. “I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so… “How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“ “My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.” “A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Notes: this had such a chokehold on me when I first read it. Absolutely wonderful. Enemies to lovers?? Maybe. Assholes to assholes-in-love, is a better descriptor. There's werewolves, and magic, and it's awesome! It's completed.

5. He’s Not Mine by Sonnee

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

Notes: again, it's all very domestic, like most fake dating fics ought to be. It's a kid fic, Sterek are mates, we have all the love. Not much else I can think to add... it's completed.

6. Real life isn’t a movie (life doesn’t make narrative sense) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

Notes: this one had me cracking up because it's so funny! Stiles is living his best life, for real. Derek... suffers. But it's okay, because he gets a boyfriend out of this whole thing! They are disgustingly sweet in that assholish way they have. It's completed.

7. You look like my next mistake by Vendelin

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes. His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to. In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Notes: this one had me HOWLING it's so good!! Frat boy Stiles, my beloved. It's technically not fake dating because it turns into an actual relationship pretty quickly, but it starts as fake dating so I'll take it. Stiles is an absolute sweetheart in this one, I love him! And Derek is shy, and insecure, but he's so great, and everyone gets a happy ending except Kate, which is always a good thing. It's completed.

8. All’s Fair In Orgasms and War by bleepobleep

AVN BREAKING NEWS-- DIAMOND VISTA RIDGE BREAKS HIS CONTRACT WITH HALE HOUSE "We haven't seen much of our favorite rock hard stud from Hale House ever since that indie twink dethroned him as champion in Orgasm Wars, but it's just been confirmed that Diamond will no longer be working for the legendary studio famous for producing some of our favorite werewolf-on-human works. Don't fret, Diamond fans, it looks like he's been spotted cozying up to True Alpha Studios! Apparently he couldn't get enough of that one human and then followed him home. Could it be true love? Keep your eye on this studio-- us at AVN think we're about to get a lot more of Diamond in a very new way!" ~ The one in which (almost) everyone is a porn star, and Derek just wants to curl up with his fluffy blanket and watch the Hallmark channel, but work and falling in love gets in the way.

Notes: okay but is this fake dating? Maaaaaybe. It's kinda complicated. Basically everyone here is a porn star and the pack has this studio where they cater to werewolves and have a whole thing about established relationships, which is where the fake dating comes up. It's surprisingly very fluffy, considering this is a porn au, and Derek is the softest goober in this one. Stiles is completely enamoured. It's completed.

9. Wanted from the You Are series by Asterekmess (Livinginfiction)

With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.

Notes: Alright so this series is wonderful. The world building done for the Alpha pack is also great, and that's the center of the second part (which has the fake dating). I do recommend reading the first part before jumping on to Wanted because it is a direct continuation. Also, it's an amazing au! It's completed.

10. For Love is Not Ours to Command by weathervaanes

Where Derek's skills at thinking on his feet mean that he and Stiles have to act. For the sake of Stiles' dad, of course, for the sake of the pack. No personal interest interference at all, whatsoever. Right. -0- “Why does my dad say that you and your boyfriend are a bad influence on me?” “What?” “Yeah, what boyfriend? Dude, you are not allowed to not tell me crap like this. You didn't think I'd like be a douchebag or something. Right?” “No, wait, what? I have no boyfriend.” “He says you were with him at the police station.” Stiles blinks. “Uhm. Oh shit.”

Notes: Stiles just wanted to find dirt on Raphael McCall to blackmail him. Somehow, he got himself a whole ass boyfriend. It's complicated. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed.

11. Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MareLoup

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.” “Oh thank god!” “Stiles?” “I, uh, I need some advice.” “Advice?” “Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?” Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.” “That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.” “Stiles...what are you doing right now?” *** Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work. Partly because their visit was a complete surprise. But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend. Or even know who Derek was. But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

Notes: this is to date one of my favorite Sterek fics. I laughed so much while reading this, I'm not even joking. The whole thing is a comedy of errors gone right. Stiles somehow finds himself pretending to be Derek's boyfriend, only he has no idea who Derek even is and why his family knows Stiles at all. His inner monologue is one of the funniest I've read, and his slow descent into (good natured) madness is wonderful. It's completed.

12. Love Like An Ache In The Jaw by Anonymous

“So let me get this straight,” The sheriff massages his temples, “You found a magic book, and performed a magic spell that has backfired and magically bound you to Derek Hale, rendering you both in agony if you’re not in the same room.” Derek and Stiles exchange a look. “Um. Yes.” Stiles says sheepishly. “Right. And just to be clear, when we’re talking agony… exactly how agonizing is the agony?” Derek clears his throat. “Sir, I’ve had a pole stabbed through my chest and held there for an hour. This was… similar.” - In which boredom, magic and dumbassery come together to produce a Christmas miracle slash disaster. Oh, and Stiles' grandmother who knows absolutely nothing about the supernatural happens to be in town. Oops.

Notes: another hilarious one. Stiles does Stiles things and ends up magically bound to Derek. No one is amused except Stiles' grandmother, who's having the time of her life, here. It's completed!

#fake dating #fake dating aus are great #and sterek has this natural chemistry that makes it even better #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fic recs #fic rec #sterek #sterek fic recs #eternal sterek #eternalsterek #teen wolf #ao3

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blacklegsanjiii · 2 days

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Want to start by saying you are such a great writer, your creativity is amazing!!!!

Lately, I've seen some fanarts of Gear 5/Nika Luffy shipped specifically with dark-haired Stealth Black Sanji

The angst potential of this is interesting, especially if it's during/after Wano where Sanji would end up losing his emotions, hence becoming Stealth Black.

But it could also be funny, with this supposedly emotionless, serious Sanji constantly being annoyed and pestered by the silly antics of Nika/Gear 5 Luffy!

Maybe Luffy refuses to turn back into regular Luffy until Sanji goes back to being Sanji, so now the crew has to deal with a godlike Luffy being extremely clingy (well, more than usual) with a very much Vinsmoke Sanji who is kinda confused.

Feel free to add anything you want to this or incorporate other headcanons, aus, ships, etc :)

The angst is there. You're right. Good Lord alright here we go. (also thank you)

So first. Sanji still has his memories but he goes completely "dark" in Wano, before Luffy wakes up. He knows how to be tactful so when he delivers food to Luffy when he wakes up that he just tells him, without tact. Luffy is staring at him and the black hair on his boyfriend's head and his eyebrows going the wrong way. He doesn't understand because he's still Sanji. Except he's not. Not anymore.

Sanji doesn't avoid him and is very neutral in peeling the rubber kid off him when it's time. Luffy is normal for a while, he's not in gear 5 and is just clinging to his boyfriend. Despite Sanji telling him he no longer loves him because he no longer loves or feels anything, he's cold and hard and just incredibly durable now. Luffy still loves him and clings and kisses but Sanji doesn't reciprocate, he doesn't know how anymore and just lets the guy do as he pleases.

Then Luffy gets annoyed and pissed off. So he goes into gear 5 and keeps hanging out with Sanji and hanging off him despite what everyone is telling him. Gear 5 might make him die quicker and they need him to be there for the end. To become king. It goes on for a few months and Sanji might not have emotions but he's not dumb. So eventually he's staring at his captain, his boyfriend, the man he loved once with cold eyes.

"I don't think your Sanji would appreciate you expediting your death."

"You're my Sanji." Luffy argues.

"Your Sanji is gone. He can't come back." Sanji glowers at the younger.

"You're lying!" Luffy yells.

"If my brothers still haven't learned. why would I?" Sanji counters. "Your Sanji wouldn't want you wasting your life on him." Luffy doesn't give up of course, but he stops using Gear 5 as much. Makes Sanji still do things that brought him joy. It's awful for Luffy and the crew to see their Sanji gone, possibly never coming back.

#black leg sanji #monkey d. luffy #vinsmoke sanji #answers #straw hat luffy #sanlu #lusan

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twistedastrology · 3 days

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- A Cancer's Appearance -

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

yes i yap a lot about cancers but what do u expect im literally a cancer rising and i hate that everyone gets us wrong as fuck 😕

going orange this time bc i want color in my life rn-

ANYWAY ok so i saw a tiktok last night that was the rising signs and their appearance and Ofc they said cancers often have very soft, rounded features "like the full moon" and generally have very prominent chests and my spindly ass is watching that shit like No.

SO what do cancer placements actually look like!!! Bc i actually went thru the comments and saw a lot of cancer risings not relating and im like OK so it's not just me-

first off, i see ppl saying cancer risings look different compared to cancer suns or other placements and i have never noticed this myself. im not entirely sure why a rising placement would look different from a sun placement but what do i know i could just be an idiot-

ANYWAY-

in my experience, both personal and observational, cancers tend to be very lanky and spindly people-

they might have Slightly softer facial features but not without definition.

being their sister sign, ive noticed heavy capricorn placements tend to have jawlines of the gods, and so do cancers usually, just in a slightly different way.

capricorn bone structures generally look very <. Like very sharp and strong as if they have like no tissue on top of their bones and it's just skull and skin kinda- Cancer bone structures look very???? Not ) but like if < was a just Slightly more rounded- they have more muscle definition in their faces rather than bone definition if that makes sense.

^ to help u understand what im yapping abt, im bringing local 99% capricorn man awsten knight (lead singer of the band waterparks) to the table.

this motherfucker is so capricorn it's not even funny- he's got not 1, not 2 but SIX capricorn placements in his fucking chart- sun, mercury, mars, uranus, neptune and north node-

and unfortunately no face reveal yet but u gotta trust me when i say i look just fucking like him and i have 0 capricorn placements and like 0.5 earth placements in general.

i look like awsten if he was like a twinge more rounded like a TWINGE- i got the same sharpness right it's just like?? HAHAHAH it's like sharp corners of wood sanded down that's the difference- like sanded just enough so they're a little more rounded out but they're still pretty sharp edges u know what im saying-

(waterparks is an amazing band btw should totally check them out if u havent already they're in my top 3 all-time fav bands along with bad omens and korn)

and i have another topic abt cancers brewing in my head rn that ill have to write abt in a separate post but i dont think cancers are actually the crab i think they're the spiders- ill put an arachnophobia warning on that post bc ill probably put multiple spider images But i say that for several reasons-

one such being that most spiders are Very Spindly!!!!! they're 90% limbs!!! and the cancer placements that i know are Usually also 90% limbs, there being some exceptions ofc as always-

me personally ive always been extremely tall and lanky, i am indeed 99% limbs and for a while until i gained more muscle, looked malnourished 💔 (someone accused me of having anorexia at one point, that's a story for another day tho- i do actually have an eating disorder but not anorexia)

this could also be because im extremely mercury dominant but ive seen people say that mercurians are Short which makes absolutely NO sense to me at all- ill do a post on that at some point 💔💔

but i also consider cancers to be neptune ruled instead of moon ruled, and to me, neptunians would be very spindly.

all this to say that in my experience, cancers are not rounded or large chested, they tend to be very lanky, small-chested actually, potentially tall, and have very defined eyes for some reason or another-

in my case i have the most dark purple bags under my eyes you will ever see in your entire life (i got a sleep disorder that makes me legitimately nocturnal 🙏😔), and you can see like every emotion im experiencing in my eyes very easily IF u know me well enough (which my mom is the only one who can genuinely see everything)

i also have a REAL bad case of resting bitch face AND crazy eyes, which the crazy eyes i think are boosted by my mars conjunct asc and my uranus trine asc 🙏🙏🙏

one thing the tiktok said though that did make sense a little was "cancers are usually the spitting image of their mother, like copy + paste"

i dont think it's just the mother i think it's whichever parent you're closest to, but i Am a direct copy paste of my mom in both appearance and everything else tbh- and she's a cap rising + aries sun/mercury/venus- and we both have mars in cancer, but that's her only cancer placement so 🤔

once again this is my personal experience so if this checks out, god bless, n if it doesn't my bad i tried 🙏😔

plenty more cancer content to come i fear because there is So much that so many ppl get wrong about them 😕

#astrology #astrologer #astro community #astro observations #zodiac #neptune #cancer zodiac #the moon #cancer rising

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canonizzyhours · 2 days

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i read more canyon fic than i should.

it used to be because i was interested in the actual canon edizzy dynamic some other posts here have talked about and i wanted to find good darkfic about izzy topping from the bottom. then i realized i was never going to find that and it became something i did in good faith hope that i would understand the canyon better, maybe i'd find some really good fic about their take on fanon izzy and i would finally get why they found this compelling. at this point it's something i do out of morbid fascination, i'm still trying to understand the canyon but what i keep understanding is that their perspectives are always worse than i expected.

anyway here's what i was thinking about today. at this point i can sort canyon fic into categories and there's this one subgenre that's always fascinated me - and it goes well back into the early post-s1 hiatus era - where izzy becomes a weirdly passive character who never really does anything.

you can see exactly why this is happening. the author is so immersed in canyon meta that they refuse to engage with any of izzy's canonical motivations from s1 - the craving for power, the homophobia, the fetishizing obsession with masculinity, the contempt for the crew who work under him, the cruelty, the sense of entitlement to control ed's life: they've been convinced that none of that stuff is a part of izzy's character. but when you take it all away, you end up with a guy who would never actually do any of the stuff izzy canonically does in s1. and if you gave him any other motivations that pushed him to do other stuff instead it would become really obvious this is just a completely different guy (there's several OTHER genres of canyon fic where they do exactly that and it is super obvious this guy just has nothing to do with izzy anymore). so you end up with a character who does absolutely nothing except stand around in the background of scenes gazing at edward thinking sad thoughts about their dying relationship and every once in a while the author remembers to have him say "fuckin' twats."

so i was thinking about this today and what hit me like a lightning bolt is this exactly predicted what would happen in s2. the writers wanted to redeem him in one season and since all his motivations in s1 existed to push him to be awful, they had to resolve all of them as quickly as possible. so within the first half of the season izzy had let go of his creepy psychosexual obsession with ed and belief that he should control ed's life and his homophobia and contempt for effeminacy and learned to respect others instead of needing to dominate or be dominated.

but just like in those fics, this turned izzy into a character who no longer had any real personality traits besides saying twat sometimes, or any reason to actually do much of anything at all. and since the traits they got rid of so completely defined who he'd been up to that point, giving izzy any NEW motivations or personality traits would just make it really obvious this was functionally an entirely different guy.

this is the exact reason he was so boring in 2x05-2x07. with those traits gone there is no longer any reason for him to do anything in particular. the only thing they can do with him at this point is demonstrate that his redemption arc is complete by repeatedly having him do the opposite of evil stuff he did last season, and once they've checked off every box on that list, they have to kill him off because there is now nothing else he can possibly contribute to the narrative.

it's so funny to me that if i had taken seriously the lessons i learned from reading canyon fic i would have been able to predict at the very beginning of the season, as soon as it became clear they were speedrunning the redemption, that he would be dead at the end of it. those fics showed me exactly why there couldn't possibly be any compelling reason to keep a fully redeemed izzy in the narrative.

#394.

#ofmd #izzy hands #fandom critical #canonizzyhours

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teecupangel · 3 days

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Weird idea: Des gets dropped in the past, human or not, preferably with Altaïr (so he can be immortal and the problem can be passed on to Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton), and he can speak every single language past and future in the whole world perfectly, EXCEPT any that are linked to Arabic, Italian, or English.

(Linked meaning like, have common origins or descendants or have strong connections in any way that would allow a smart person, like Altaïr, to puzzle out what he’s saying. So like, he can only speak modern Korean, Gbaya languages, ancient Parahã, and those kinds of languages. Things Altaïr could never puzzle out with what he knows. He’d have to start from scratch.)

Cause like, it’s similar to the whole Desmond-just-straight-up-can’t-talk-for-such-and-such-reason, but it’s slightly more interesting. And plus it’d be funny if Desmond isn’t good at learning languages so he can speak all of these, but he has no basis whatsoever to learn Arabic, Italian, or English.

And as anyone who’s tried to learn a very different language will tell you, it’s way more complicated than you’d think.

(My fav would be if he’s even more limited and can only speak in whistle languages. Confusing people even more who haven’t ever even considered that a spoken language could use whistles)

I feel like the main point of this idea is to make Desmond suffer but I'm thinking Desmond wouldn't suffer all that much since we'll bring him to Altaïr who was raised in a time where a lot of different people with different languages mixed together in lands under their Brotherhood’s supervision.

I personally headcanon that Altaïr knows most languages used by the crusaders and the nearby lands as part of his whole ‘I’m an overachiever that would have probably had multiple PhD had I been born later in life” thing going on.

Of course, this doesn’t mean Altaïr would be fluent in all kinds of languages but, speaking from experience as a multilingual who isn’t fluent in all languages I can understand and speak to varying degrees of success, he would know what’s the most important ‘cheat’ he can use:

Context clues.

In this situation, Altaïr would try to understand Desmond’s language and they would start with the basics.

“I am Desmond.”

“You are Altaïr.”

“He is Malik.”

“She is Maria.”

From those three sentences, Altaïr would have a grasp of the words Desmond uses for “I”, “you” and if there is a difference between talking to a third person of differing gender.

And more importantly…

He gets a feel of what is the most common sentence structure.

He would tell Desmond to keep his sentences simple, even tell him to speak it as if he’s speaking to a child.

Altaïr has no shame of asking such a thing because this makes it easier for him to understand Desmond.

So they would start with common grammatical structures and then the most common words they would use or would see around them.

Of course, it’s not like Altaïr would understand all these in a span of a month or three. But he will definitely progress through it and they would have decades together considering how long Altaïr lived.

In this situation, learning Desmond’s language would become more or less common in the Brotherhood. Hell, they might even develop their own language which would be a mix of Desmond’s language and the main language used in Masyaf. Even even mix in a few words here and there from other languages that the Assassins used.

From there on, this fusion of a language would become the unofficial language of the Brotherhood (imagine that scene with the Parisian Council speak in Arabic would change to this language and Arno’s “???” expression because he hears some whistles but, at the same time, he kinda understands some of the words because he remembered his father used to speak the same language) and it’s one of the greatest secret of the Brotherhood.

… and it all started because Altaïr and Desmond liked to talk to one another about the most idiotic thing Abbas had done for the week and to complain about Malik working them to the bone XD

(This does mean that whenever someone speaks to Desmond, they do usually make use of most common and basic sentence structure.)

#i mean #you can also fuck ‘em up #by making it a language that you can drop particles to make it harder to understand from those unfamiliar with how it works #and still be understandable #like japanese XD #assassin's creed #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad

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coloursflyaway · 2 days

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I've been leaving comments on your fic because they're just wonderful & really hoping your inbox isn't flooded with prompts already because I'm longing for more "oh no the feelings are there all along" Edwin:

Nothing really changed between them since his second time in Hell, and Edwin wouldn't have it any other way. Except, now he's not sure how he used to keep his thoughts intact with Charles being around and... being Charles.

I love your character studies! They're so adorable, the way you write them.

Hi and thank you so much for the prompt, I had a ton of fun with it! ♥

The Most Tender Place In My Heart

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.200

Read on AO3

There is something said about the concept of hindsight, only that Edwin isn’t sure if it’s something good, per se. Because now that he knows what he feels for Charles, it’s like his brain is working overtime just to make sure that he is, in fact, in love with Charles, which is slightly ridiculous, since it only takes a single look for Edwin to confirm it again and again and again. It’s the way his heart flutters, his eyes get stuck on one of Charles’ features, his fingertips aching for the warm buzz touching Charles grants him. And yet, in those quiet moments between cases, or sometimes deep at night when they are both busy with their own research, Edwin’s mind wanders through the three decades they have known each other, searching and finding those moments in which Edwin could have known he was in love with Charles, had he ever allowed himself to consider the possibility.

Edwin goes down a trip down memory lane, and Charles needs someone to spell it out to him that he is in love.

There is something said about the concept of hindsight, only that Edwin isn’t sure if it’s something good, per se.

Because now that he knows what he feels for Charles, it’s like his brain is working overtime just to make sure that he is, in fact, in love with Charles, which is slightly ridiculous, since it only takes a single look for Edwin to confirm it again and again and again. It’s the way his heart flutters, his eyes get stuck on one of Charles’ features, his fingertips aching for the warm buzz touching Charles grants him. And yet, in those quiet moments between cases, or sometimes deep at night when they are both busy with their own research, Edwin’s mind wanders through the three decades they have known each other, searching and finding those moments in which Edwin could have known he was in love with Charles, had he ever allowed himself to consider the possibility.

It’s pointless, it’s quite distracting, and most importantly, Charles seems to be catching up on the fact that something is happening to Edwin, because it keeps happening.

Since, apparently, there is a plethora of instances for his treacherous brain to choose from.

It is the year 2002 and they are running through an abandoned school, the ghost of an enraged headmistress on their heels, whose spirit had gotten stuck to the metal ruler she is still brandishing. The ruler is the problem; it’s made of iron and it’s actually quite interesting that it doesn’t seem to hurt her at all, but burnt like hellfire when it had touched Edwin’s arm.

So, they are running to find somewhere to regroup and Charles is laughing. Why, Edwin isn’t quite sure, but there is no time to figure it out, at least not until Charles drags him into a supply closet, closing the door behind them. They’re very close like this, Edwin realises and isn’t sure why that seems to matter so much. It’s not like they haven’t been close before. And yet, his hands burn almost like he is touching iron, only pleasantly this time, as do his cheeks when Charles looks at him.

“Why are you laughing?”, he hisses to distract himself from the sensation; there is something wrong with it, but Edwin isn’t certain what. Hopefully it is no side effect from the iron before. “I fail to see anything funny about this!”

Charles grins at him and although they were just being chased by one of the few things that can cause them physical harm, he looks happy, he looks fond. Of Edwin. And that, at least, makes Edwin feel a bit better.

“It’s nothing”, Charles replies, although that is obviously untrue, because he is still smiling, “’s just that it reminds me of being in school so much. I used to spend quite some time running away from teachers back then. Only that this is better, of course. No detention, no letters to my parents and my best mate with me.”

And he reaches up to grasp Edwin’s upper arm, something he has started doing about ten years ago, and Edwin inexplicably feels like shivering, feels like pressing closer.

“Oi, Edwin!”, Charles calls out to him, looking amused when Edwin’s eyes focus back on him. “Where did you go?”

He must have spaced out, which is embarrassing, but, well. It’s the same school.

“We have been here before”, he replies weakly and Charles shakes his head, still fond of him, even after all these years.

“I know, that’s what I’ve been telling Crystal about”, he tells Edwin, gesturing towards Crystal, who is standing a few metres away, looking at a bulletin board of old, outdated flyers. “Is that what’s been happening to you, getting lost in old memories? Because I know you’re the brains of the operation, but I do notice these things.”

For a second, Edwin wants to deny it, but then again, he never made a habit out of lying to Charles and doesn’t want to start with it now. And in the end, it’s just memories they are talking about, harmless and innocent and in the end, also ones that Charles and he share.

So, he nods, and Charles gives him a smile, which almost feels like a reward.

“That’s cool”, Charles replies, although Edwin isn’t sure if agrees with the statement. “Tell me about it next time, yeah? Only if you want to, of course. But I’d really like to hear it.”

It is the year 1989, they have only known each other for a few weeks, and Charles pulls him into the first hug they ever share. He’s excited, because he has navigated them through the mirror successfully, something that had ended in disaster every other time, and Edwin has hardly even stepped through it when Charles’ arms are around him, dragging him close. He feels solid against Edwin’s chest, a faint buzz spreading across where they are touching, and Edwin doesn’t know how to react, because he hasn’t been touched like this – kindly, like he matters, with the intent to give comfort, not pain – in so long, he has quite forgotten what to do.

“Finally did it”, Charles says next to his ear, and pulls him closer still. He seems quite oblivious to the fact that Edwin is just standing there, and that’s good, because Edwin doesn’t think he could move if he tried to. It feels strange, being in Charles’ arms, makes him tingle, become overly aware of just where Charles’ arms are resting on his back, where his chin is digging into Edwin’s shoulder.

Maybe, he thinks, and it makes him giddy, like this is something forbidden, something sweet, he’ll be able to return the embrace the next time.

He considers it for far too long, especially because in the end, the decision turns out to be quite easy, based on one thing alone: Charles had asked for it.

They are back at the agency, Charles reorganising his backpack, and Edwin looks up at him from his book, and the words just tumble out, before he can stop them. “Do you remember the first time we hugged?”, he asks, and Charles makes a little sound, pulling their emergency bone saw from his backpack before looking over at Edwin.

“Yeah, sure. You were a little stiff back then, but I still remember how happy I was because you were so solid. I think you were the first thing I felt after I died, like, really felt”, he replies, then pauses for a moment so he can turn to face Edwin fully. “Why are you asking?”

If he still physically could, Edwin would be blushing, like this, he just feels flustered, phantom heat spreading down his throat, through his limbs until it touches his fingertips. “Ah”, he starts, rather unintelligently, “you were asking about the memories, the ones that distract me occasionally. You wanted me to tell you about them.”

Charles nods slowly, but his brows are furrowed like he is trying to put together a puzzle he doesn’t have all the pieces for yet. Edwin would very much prefer if he never found the missing ones. “Why that one?”, he eventually asks, and that’s the rest of the pieces, right there.

Of course, he could lie by omission, or just pretend he does not know the answer, but in the end, Charles will figure it out anyway. He is a detective after all. So instead, Edwin takes a deep breath he doesn’t need and rips the band aid off with one single sentence, even if it stings.

“Because I am fairly certain that I harboured some kind of romantic feeling for you even back then, only that I did not know how to recognise it.”

Silence stretches between them, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, and even if Edwin can feel the nervousness seep into the cracks of his mind as it continues, he says nothing; Charles deserves the time he needs to digest this.

So, he waits, and eventually, Charles’ eyes clear and he smiles at Edwin, a small, soft, tender curve of his lips that shouldn’t mean as much as it does.

“Thank you for telling me”, he says, and Edwin knows that he means it by the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. “And, if you want to, I’d like to hear the next one, too.”

It is the year 2017 and their hands brush together when they are standing in front of a very angry sorcerer, who has been shouting at them for the better part of ten minutes. Usually, it would pose little problem, but the reason they are standing here is that they have been summoned; the circle and the runes around them the only things keeping them here. The sorcerer will get sloppy, Edwin knows that, and he will come too close and Charles will hit him with his cricket bat, use his body to wipe away the runes, but until then, they are stuck here.

And their hands brush together, which they have done a thousand times before, only that now, Charles hooks his little finger around Edwin’s, gives it a little squeeze. It’s made to soothe him, and it does, and if Edwin thinks about it for the rest of the week, he refuses to wonder why.

“Back in the late 2010s”, he tells Charles on a case, Crystal just out of earshot. “You nearly took my hand when we had been summoned by one of those idiotic wizards and I thought about it for days. I am fairly certain I was in love with you back then, too.”

Charles looks over to him from where he is standing, eyes widening for a second, before they go soft once more. “I remember that, I think”, Charles says, and maybe they aren’t remembering the same sorcerer, the same situation, but that hardly matters. “Thank you for telling me.”

And later, much later, Charles takes his hand and intertwines their fingers, and it’s the same rush, the same buzz; Edwin thinks about it for the rest of the week and doesn’t pretend otherwise.

It is the year 1992 and they have just established the agency, found a psychic who would let them rent out the top floor for the cheap price of keeping an eye on his offspring after he had passed on.

“You know, this is pretty brills”, Charles says, laying on the floor and staring up at the ceiling, as if it was the open sky. “I never thought much about being dead, but so far, it’s been fantastic.”

“You think so?”, Edwin asks, sitting down next to his still-new friend. He won’t lie down, not with all the dust, the cobwebs, but he still wants to be closer to Charles if possible. “I wouldn’t hold it against you if you missed your life.”

“Nah, it’s all good”, Charles tells him, a lopsided smile on his plush lips and even if Edwin suspects that the statement won’t be true forever, in every situation, it is now. “Nowhere I’d rather be here, is there? Starting a detective agency with my best mate. Don’t you agree?”

He does, only that he suspects that, unlike for Charles, it’s an answer that won’t change again.

“Do you remember when we first started the agency?”, Edwin asks and Charles laughs, maybe for good reason. “Of course. How could I ever forget that?”

He sits down next to Edwin on the sofa, and his eyes are so kind, so warm that Edwin feels like he might fall in love with him all over again. “I wish I had lain down with you on the floor back then, on our first night here”, he tells Charles, and resists the urge to reach out and put a hand on his thigh, his knee, any part of his body he could reach.

“No, you don’t”, Charles answers, and there is still laughter in his voice, making it even more lovely. “You would have been impossible about it after, with all the dust and the dirt.”

“They can’t get dirty, they’re spectral”, Edwin protests, but Charles just shakes his head.

“It would have felt like it though, wouldn’t it? You would have known it and you would have been insufferable about it”, he says and he is right and knows it too. “Actually, maybe you should have laid down with me, it would have been pretty funny.”

And he laughs and Edwin joins in, and finally does reach out and rests his hand on Charles’ ankle, and revels in how right it feels.

It is the year 2011, they are in Florence to investigate a statue that is rumoured to start moving at night, a sure sign of some kind of haunting, and it’s night, the stars illuminating the sky like little pinpricks.

And Edwin looks over at Charles to say something, only for the words to die right there on his lips, because Charles looks so beautiful in the dim light. Almost ethereal, the deep shadows making his cheekbones sharper, his lashes darker, the quirk of his lips more pronounced.

Appreciating the human form is important, no matter the gender, Edwin tries to rationalise it later, but for weeks, there is something like apprehension whenever he looks over at his best friend.

They are walking through Norwich, trying to find an heirloom, and the sunlight catches the silver necklace Charles is wearing, making Edwin think of stars and the night sky and the brightness of his leash spells, only that this is one he wears happily, proudly.

“One time in Florence, you looked so beautiful it would have taken my breath away, if I had still been breathing”, he tells Charles, and it shouldn’t be so easy to do it. But Charles just looks at him, warmth and affection and understanding painted across his features in bold, impossibly to miss strokes, and Edwin wonders how it could ever be difficult instead.

“We haven’t been in Florence in ages”, Charles says, and Edwin nods.

“I remember it anyway”, he answers although Charles hasn’t even phrased the question yet, and he thinks it will stay at just that, but Charles hums, stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“You know”, he tells Edwin after a few moments, and he doesn’t sound reluctant, just like he is putting a thought into words for the first time, “sometimes, usually when it is rather late, I look over at you and I don’t want to look away again.”

And he smiles at Edwin, like it is nothing, nothing at all.

It is the year 1999 and Charles brings a book back from his walk. He doesn’t go out on his own often, but sometimes when Edwin gets too focussed on his research, he leaves so he can walk the streets aimlessly. Sometimes, he goes to see a concert, occasionally visits a club, and when he gets back to the agency, he tells Edwin all about it without fail.

This time, however, Charles doesn’t say a word, only puts the book down in front of Edwin and waits for him to look up. When Edwin does, there is a strange, faraway look in his eyes that Edwin doesn’t like at all.

“What is the matter?”, he asks, and then, when Charles does not reply, adds, “Did something happen?”

“I realised that I will be dead for a decade next week”, Charles finally answers, but the expression doesn’t change; Edwin wants nothing more than to reach up and wipe it from his face with his thumbs.

“I know”, Edwin says. It is an anniversary he has never brought up but also never forgotten.

“That’s more than half as long as I was alive”, Charles continues and sounds brittle somehow, “Isn’t that strange?”

“Yes”, Edwin agrees.

“So, I thought”, Charles starts and then stops, pushes a hand through his hair and leaves it mussed. “I thought, maybe you could read to me? It made me feel better back then, and I’m not quite sure how I feel now.”

And Edwin looks down at the book in front of him; it’s a detective story. G. K. Chesterton, someone whose work Edwin knows quite well.

“Of course”, he says, and gets up to fulfil his promise, “Anything you need, Charles, anything at all.”

“Do you remember the tenth anniversary of your death?”, Edwin asks, a finger resting on the spine of that particular G. K. Chesterton novel. The Man Who Was Thursday, not a particular favourite of his, but now a novel that holds a special place in his heart.

“Sure”, Charles says from where he is sitting on their armchair, legs dangling over the side of it. “What of it?”

“I should have hugged you, that night when you asked me to read to you”, Edwin says and pulls the book from its shelf.

“I would have liked that”, Charles answers, but there is no judgement in his voice, just fondness. Like it is enough that Edwin knows that now. “You can hug me now, if you want to.”

He puts down the comic he is reading and holds out his arms; makes Edwin laugh until his chest doesn’t feel heavy with sorrow any longer, and feels so right in his arms when Edwin comes over and embraces him, no matter how awkward the angle, the book digging into their sides.

“I think”, Edwin mutters into the space between Charles’s shoulder and neck just before he pulls away once more, “that if I had let myself back then, I would have liked it, too.”

It is the year 2004 and Charles grasps his arm when they are walking down the street, which feels like a luxury after spending two weeks on a case that allowed them hardly any moment of rest.

“Could we stop for a bit?”, Charles asks, and for a second, Edwin doesn’t know why he would want to, but then he hears the guitar playing, hears the girl’s voice ringing through the street. She’s a street musician and it’s close to Christmas so she is wearing a Santa hat as she sings, her fingers slowly turning blue from the cold.

And she’s pretty, but Edwin hardly notices, even if he fears that Charles does.

The tune sounds out of place, because it isn’t even close to December, yet the cafe Crystal drags them into is playing a carol. It isn’t the same on as it was back then, because this is not about fairytales and not about New York, but when Crystal leaves them at their table to get a drink, Edwin turns to Charles anyway.

“In 2004, you wanted to stop and listen to a singer on the street”, he tells him, words jumbled together by how quickly he is talking; he has to get this out before Crystal returns. As much as he likes her now, this is between Charles and he alone. “I was jealous because she was beautiful and you looked at her like you knew it.”

A moment passes, and then Charles laughs softly, reaches out to cover Edwin’s hand with his own where it is resting on the table. “Edwin, mate”, he says, and he sounds tender, loving, warm. “I’m sure she didn’t compare to you.”

It is the year 2006 and if he could still feel, the sun would be hot on his skin, warming up limbs that have forgotten the feeling. Like this, he only imagines it, and finds that the memory of sunshine feels the same as the memory of Charles smiling at him, Charles taking his hand as not to get lost in the dark, as Charles hugging him when he is happy, exhausted, relieved.

Edwin doesn’t try and imagine sunshine after that.

There is a single ray of sunlight coming through the window of their agency, illuminating a spot just right of Charles’ feet, and the memory hits Edwin so hard it would leave him gasping if he still breathed.

“You alright?”, Charles asks from where he is sitting and when he looks at Edwin, it really feels like sunshine, feels like warmth and a gentle breeze on a summer’s day. “Yes”, he answers and it’s true, because he’s finally basking in sunlight once more. “It’s just that I truly love you, Charles.”

“Love you, too”, Charles replies without missing a beat, a smile that feels like summer rain on Edwin’s skin.

He turns back to his book, and Edwin doesn’t expect more, doesn’t need more, but then, just a few seconds later, Charles looks up again. His brows are drawn together, like something is puzzling him, and Edwin, who was still watching, knows that whatever he will say will be important.

“Hey, so this might be a strange question, so if you don’t wanna answer it, that’s fine”, he says, and Edwin would tell him whatever he wanted to know. “But, like. How did you know you were in love with me?”

It’s not the question Edwin expected, it’s not a question he ever expected to answer, but Charles looks like he truly cares about his response, so Edwin swallows down the hint of panic rising in his throat.

“I had someone spell it out for me”, he says and thinks about Monty for a moment, his curiosity, his kind eyes and soft lips. “And as soon as I heard the words, I just knew they were true. Maybe that is why my mind keeps searching for all the times I could have known it before then.”

There is a pause in which Charles just watches him, then he gives Edwin a smile that looks strange on his lips, unfamiliar even after all the years they have known each other. “Thank you”, he says, and there is something in his voice too. “I really mean that. Thank you for trusting me.”

As if Edwin could do anything but.

It is the year 1995 and it’s so late it’s early again, and even though he doesn’t have a physical body, Edwin is still exhausted. They’re on a case and it’s just been dragging and dragging on without an end in sight, and no matter through how many books they go through, there seems to be no solution, no explanation, no way to stop the curse.

He’s all but swearing under his breath when he picks up another volume from the desk, thick and bound in dark linen. It’s the eighth one in a row and the letters are starting to blur in front of his eyes, but he has to make sense of this somehow; they cannot let the young man who hired them suffer any longer.

A grown escapes his lips, and a few moments later, there is a hand on his shoulder, another one gently closing the book in front of him. “I think that’s enough for today”, Charles says softly, and while the letters were hazy, his face is crystal clear.

“But-”, Edwin tries, but Charles just squeezes his shoulder and when he smiles down at Edwin, it feels like a benediction.

“We’ll continue tomorrow”, Charles tells him, and Edwin is powerless to do anything but nod.”For now, lets just go upstairs and watch the stars.”

London is spread out before them and it’s been decades since Edwin has truly missed feeling the wind against his skin, but he does so now as they settle back against the wall, Charles’ head tipped back to watch the night sky.

“I think I loved you even back in 1995”, Edwin tells him.

There is no response for a while, the silence not unpleasant, but unexpected. They have found a rhythm with these small confessions by now; Edwin will share a memory and Charles will give something back. It makes it easier for Edwin and he hopes, thinks, believes that it does the same for Charles.

Eventually, Charles turns his head, and his eyes are dark, unreadable, beautiful.

“I think I love you now”, he says, and for a few moments, Edwin doesn’t hear him.

“I know”, he answers when he does, and Charles smiles at him, fond and sweet, like he has missed Edwin for decades and only found him again.

“I don’t think you do”, he responds, unmoving, and something around them shifts; the stars grow brighter, the sky darker, the small corner of the roof they are sitting in smaller. “But I want you to.”

And he leans in and presses the softest, the sweetest, the most certain kiss to Edwin’s lips. It’s over before Edwin can react, but Charles stays close and watches his reaction, his gaze so intense it feels like a touch in its own right, a caress to Edwin’s skin.

“How…?”, he whispers into the space between them; it doesn’t feel real. How do you love me, he wants to ask, how did you fall in love with me,and how are you certain of it? And most importantly, how do you know it now, after so much time?

Charles seems to hear all of it in just one word, because he moves his hand so he can link their little fingers together, and replies, “I had someone spell it out for me, memory by memory.”

And kisses Edwin again.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbd #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #painland #payneland #paynland #chedwin #charles x edwin #edwin x charles #i am genuinely unwell about them

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lemon-natalia · 21 hours

Text

Harrow the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 50

thirty minutes before the Emperor’s murder and i still have no idea who’s gonna do it or why

Commander Wake. the commander who is Gideon's mother. who is Awake, the Sleeper. Who is in Cytherea’s dead body. Cytherea being the one Gideon had a crush on. WHO IS BEING POSSESSED BY GIDEON’S DEAD MOTHER. WHO IS THE BOE LEADER, COMMANDER WAKE. i’m fucking speechless what is this

also she’s calling the Emperor ‘Gaius’, do they fucking know each other??

omfg her full name includes ‘Snap me back to reality oops there goes Gravity’ wtf. weirdly i feel like thats such a Gideon (Nav) name to have, except she’s taking it so seriously

‘did the ten billion give you that too.’ ‘how many babies died in the bomb Gaius’ oh this guy really did cause the apocalypse somehow didn’t he, fuuuck

scratch the others, this is the most tense tea party there’s been so far

‘it’s all come out’ what in the world’s most dramatic intervention is this

COMMANDER WAKE ME UP INSIDE

both Mercymorn and Augustine were conspiring with the BoE?? i didn’t see that coming, especially not Mercymorn

the eggs from the first message weren’t a metaphor????? they were literal goddamn eggs wtf

she was gonna kill said baby in order to enter the Locked Tomb, and nicknamed it the ‘Bomb’. um wow. why is everyone’s immediate plan in these books to jump straight to the baby murder.

GIDEON (1.0) JUST KILLED HER?? again? can you even say you killed a ghost. what. what. i thought they were a thing what is going on. Gideon just saw her mother for the very first time in her life, talking about how she was planning to murder Gid as a baby, possessing the body of someone she had a crush on who also tried to kill her, get murdered. oh she’s gonna need so much counselling after this.

speaking of, how the fuck did the relationship between Gideon 1.0 and Wake start, that feels very complicated

and he thought the baby was his. key word being thought. not was. then who the fuck is the baby daddy. this whole shebang would make for a very entertaining episode of Dr Phil. or whatever tv shows it is that do dna tests, i don’t watch a lot of reality tv

i really didn’t think a conception story could get more fucked up than Harrow’s, but Gideon’s giving her a very strong run for her money

‘Hi, not fucking dead. I’m Dad’ YOU JUST FOUND OUT YOU HAVE A SECRET BABY WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS. its been about a minute and he’s already cracking dad jokes. is making bad puns genetic in the Locked Tomb world or something, because that would say a lot about Gideon quite frankly

i cannot believe the fact that these guys were in a threesome has been plot relevant two times over now

also Gideon is the fucking. daughter of the GOD of this world i guess. well there’s an explanation for why she’s so resistant to not dying then. if he wasn’t super dead, i think Silas’s reaction to this info would be so fucking funny

also. given Ianthe presumably doesn’t know about any of the details of Gideon’s birth, childhood, etc. she’s gotta be even more confused than Gideon right now

also also remember when i had that dream about the Locked Tomb? my subconscious is a prophet, apparently:

#lemon natalia reads the locked tomb #tlt #the locked tomb #the locked tomb liveblog #harrow the ninth #if i had a nickel for everytime in a piece of media i’m obsessed with filled with existential & body horror a character named John caused #the apocalypse and also characters who have moved their souls to other bodies have their eye colour as the tell that happened #i’d have two nickels #which is not a lot but its weird that it’s happened twice.

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nekropsii · 2 days

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Atomic Ask Bomb 3!!

We got a shorter one this time around! I hope everyone's evening is going well!

Content Warning: Long-ish, Discussions of Ableism + Queerphobia, Weird Cronus Moment™.

Same. I'd read a fanventure about that, I think.

Like, I don't personally believe WV would be allergic to being a mentor or something of a father figure, but I do have to wonder the level to which he was wigged out by the way that Dave and Karkat treat him, because Dave in particular imprints on him in a way that is... Kind of strange.

The later portions of Homestuck really baby WV. It's upsetting.

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Easy. The actual things wrong with them.

A lot of the discourse surrounding them is fabricated, or has such poor priorities it might as well be fabricated. Most critical conversations about them surrounds things people just made up over the course of years of mythologizing their #Problematicness.

For Example: Most of the discourse surrounding why Horuss had problematic writing had to do with how he was "Bad Otherkin Representation", when the real issue was the fact that Hussie was conflating Being Otherkin with having a Dissociative Disorder, and in turn saying both of them are the exact same level of Fake And Gay for the exact same reason, because to Hussie they were the same thing. To this day, people get startled every time I point out that Horuss is canonically a System despite him bringing it up just as regularly as he does being Therian. Those are totally wack priorities.

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...That's scary... I don't even have words...

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LOL. The Lost Weeaboos was a Grade A bit. Thank you Aranea, very cool.

Honestly, I don't even count Cronus as a "facade character", because it's not like he's making any efforts to hide jack shit. It's been... Interesting, watching several people refer to "his facade" lately, when, like... What are they talking about, honestly? He's pretty bold-faced about his whole deal. This isn't really a Dave situation where you could be capable of falling for it when you're younger, because Cronus couldn't be doing a worse job at "hiding" how awful he is. He's not even trying, because he knows he can get away with it. What are the other Alphas gonna do? Leave?

Hope you're having a good time!! The Alpha Trolls may be a Trash Heap, but they are my Trash Heap.

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There comes a point where it's almost comedic how unaware people are of it... Like, what do you mean you know he's a Horse Therian but not that he's a System? He literally calls himself the Host of a System and talks about Switching. IN THOSE TERMS. He's not even obfuscating it by using some esoteric Troll terminology, he is LITERALLY using the words "Host", "System", and "Switching".

It's painful. I know this is a moment befitting of an XKCD comic, but... Jeez. You'd think these things would both be on the same level of common knowledge, considering how they're traits that are directly related to each other and given equal amounts of screen time, but nope!

Unfortunately, it is a situation where this is relevant. Sad!

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All characters will become AroSpec and/or ASpec with the help of my Beam Attack.

... Except for Cronus. It's just not funny when it's him. Due to The Themes. It's not fun to headcanon a character as any minority when a huge part of their character is that they pretend to be minorities for Pity Points to eventually cash in for Sex. Ew. Making him literally anything other than Just Cronus plays directly into so many vile Queer stereotypes it's insane. Those are stereotypes that have gotten people actually genuinely killed. Just... Ew. Gross.

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#homestuck #alpha trolls #beta kids #beta trolls #the exiles #wayward vagabond #dave strider #karkat vantas #cronus ampora #horuss zahhak #cw ableism #cronus.pdf #horuss.pdf #nekro.sms

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blinkpen · 2 days

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raggle frabble

how are there self-declared progressive people Still using that one "yes" meme format like you cannot reclaim that one nor should you want to, the antisemitic white supremacist eugenics trash is Baked In, and that does not go away by just having the topic be something goofy and non-political? bc the meme format itself is so aggressively political? you can't actually make the Hitler Particles on it go away by just editing it to have "yes" guy say something woke, despite what people seem to think? and every time i see a variation of it i have to do a background check to make sure whoever thought it was funny to post is not just literally an actual fascist hiding behind memes? because that's literally how their dogwhistle meme shit is Supposed to work? bc now its everywhere and nobody thinks anything of it at all, except people who now have to wonder if someone posting this crap indicates true genocidal malice hiding itself, or just irony-poisoned dipshittery helping them hide

i thought we covered this years ago and i'm baffled it still hasn't quite gone away??? some of you guys really, really, really, wanted to use dogwhistles for.................. fun? i guess? alright. are you an asshole, or...?

or do we like? need to explain? again??? what it is you're doing? when you "reclaim" that particular meme? because what you're doing is this:

"here's a meme where i labeled you the ugly person who is drooling or upset with a weak chin and dark hair and beady eyes probably can't get laid (traits clearly indicating a person is slugbrained histrionic & wrong, with no further elaboration even needed as to why their opinion should be ignored, bc isn't it obvious why? look at what they are!) now, as you can see, the contrast is important, as i labeled myself as the handsome stoic white person with blonde hair and blue eyes and i will have NO trouble passing on my visibly aryan genes because i'm a gigachad who fucks (traits clearly indicating i'm enlightened and correct with no further elaboration needed as to why my opinion can be assumed to be objectively correct, bc isn't it obvious? look at what i am!). hahaha! take that! i love reclaiming neonazi memes rooted in fascist logic to even work for my own political purposes! because it's all about feeling like i was the one to turn a weapon against its master, finally wielding its power rather than examining it, how it works, and ultimately discarding it as a loathsome tool i don't need if trying to accomplish anything good. because i am very progressive, and a comedy genius also."

that is what that meme format is, from the ground up.

people should not be utterly indifferent about letting it remain in their communal repertoire for self-expression for any random opinion no matter how serious or trivial? if ~irony~ isn't a good excuse for an actual neonazi to be let off the hook for implicitly asserting the validity of eugenics in a public forum for dissemination, why is it an excuse for anyone else, exactly?

oh right.

i forgot how many people on here are white goy with white guilt that they want to be free of feeling the sting of ever again without ever truly confronting their own internalized racism, or their internalized sense of innate superiority that they clearly still ache to demonstrate to themselves and their peers via public displays of social humiliation and mockery of those deemed too Undesirable of Body and they especially don't want to ever confront the ways those things manifest when they genuinely think they're on to something good or funny and sticking it to somebody who 'deserves it'

#hold on i need to rant/vent about a meme i hate that refuses to die for some reason #2b delete l8r maybe #cw for mentinos of antisemitism racism nazis etc im bitching about people 'ironically' using nazi memes to 'reclaim' them #and just. giving what is already a dogwhistle MORE Plausible Deniability armor/smokescreen making the issue Worse actually.#thanks! i hate it! can you Stop?

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takes1 · 20 hours

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For a request, would you be interested in a bully Dabi x male reader (maybe in a college AU or something. You can decide if you want it to be in the LOV instead)? Reader is constantly picked on and demeaned by him, but one day maybe in a private area reader is cornered, some suggestive content goes on/maybe noncon depending what you want to do, and the reader speaks up when the situation almost goes too far (and normally he is quiet. He’s that nerdy kid afraid to disappoint his parents/and a virgin. So he is scared of what was going on in that scenario.) After, you can decide what goes on from there!

Also to add, my bad about asking make characters. I did read the rules but had no idea what afab of amab means, should of looked it up before asking lol 😂

you're okay! no worries :) i really liked writing this, it's very different from my other stuff. i'm so sorry this has taken so long! will write a part 2 soon and probably end it there!

warnings. barely sfw, slight noncon themes, creepy vibes

details. male!reader / college au / frat au / inexperienced!reader / loser!reader / corruptionkink!dabi / loser!reader / degradation / praise / power play / slight noncon / yandere!dabi / 1.2k words

🤍 scenario series. more dabi and others here.

more links. my ao3 / dabi headcanons / requests open

"No, mom--,"

You almost tripped over your untied shoelace for the third time in the past two minutes but continued to ignore it. Stopping to fix it was scarier than getting a face full of dirty cement.

"No, it's-, okay, uppercase L, did you try the uppercase L yet?"

A rush of adrenaline plumped your veins for a fleeting moment and you gripped your cracked phone like a lifeline. The sound of shoes other than your beat-up Vans scraped across the sidewalk. You turned and there was nothing but the drip of residual rain from gutters, and some trash brushing by a garbage can.

Of course, a Mcdonald's wrapper would be responsible for your fatal heart attack. Or your mother, who didn't understand how to capitalize a letter on her keyboard to enter her bank password.

There was another half mile to your dorm building. When she called you halfway through your journey back from your last late class, you were relieved to have something else on your mind other than the threat of seeing a Brother around.

Pledge Week was Hell. Actual Hell. This must've been your divine punishment for being such a giant fucking loser your entire life-- a cruel joke from God designed to say, 'Look at this dumbass! He's paying hundreds of dollars to get hazed for a week, then ostracized for the smallest hope of feeling like he's a part of something!'

"It's the left side, mom. It says shift on it," You sighed.

This was the first week you hadn't commuted home for the weekend. With no social skills to bank on, there was nothing to do on the weekends except drive two hours home. At least you could be comfortable there. Not necessarily wanted, until they had a technology issue that required a Cybersecurity major -or just any person with brain cells- to fix, but you had your own quiet room.

It didn't change the fact that the Brothers of Alpha Sigma Phi betted on you to join them as a joke. You didn't have any connections or lineage like the other Pledges, but it was funny to pick the scrawny kid and see how long he'd last.

You didn't know how you lasted this long. It was a sort of tolerance that you built up, because Alpha Sig gave you something to do, somewhere to be.

A semester as a Pledge; running errands, attending parties but not allowed to drink, getting shit on at every turn because that was just the culture here and you thought, maybe after you graduate to become a Brother in a couple of days, you would have some real friends.

Another thudding sound of footsteps much heavier than yours. This time, they didn't stop, and neither did you.

The orange glow of streetlamps every 15 feet became markers for your sanity. Only nine more to go before you were at your building.

Your stomach was in your throat. The hand in your pocket clutched your knife.

"You got it?" Your voice was uneven but your mother didn't notice. You wished she would stay on the phone longer, but there was nothing else to talk about.

Even the other seven Pledges didn't associate with you. If they did, they got screwed with more. This week had become a sick kind of lonely, fast.

It was like clockwork. As soon as your phone left your ear, a voice much closer than you anticipated shocked your muscles still.

"Hey, Pledge," It was by far the worst Brother imaginable; the one who seemed to take personal pleasure in your torment above anyone else, "The fuck do ya think you're talkin' to?"

You kept your hand in your pocket. Pulling a knife on him would erase all progress, possibly even make this whole semester's worth of work useless, but you weren't about to surrender your only line of defense when you weren't sure if it would get violent.

Dabi was deceptively glittery under the streetlamp. His piercings gave you something else to look at to avoid eye contact.

"My mom--," You could barely get your words out.

"You're not supposed to speak to anyone this week," He lowered his voice and approached slow because he knew you wouldn't move.

Narrowed eyes watched another student on the other side of the deserted street.

Two years ago, Alpha Sig had been under an investigation for hazing (rightfully so, you could imagine), so the older Brothers were careful about what they said and did in public. In private, everything was still on the table.

So far, the worst thing you were forced to do was the bottling line. This was an activity where they made you and the other Pledges stand in a line to drink an entire bottle of various combined liquors. Each of you had to drink a fair amount, or the last man had to drink whatever was left. You were the last man.

This was already after a knowledge test about the fraternity. If a Pledge got a question wrong about the history of Alpha Sig, he was forced to drink.

Eventually, they made you drink whenever somebody else got a question wrong because you were answering everything correctly.

You had never thrown up so violently at the end of one night before. You weren't sure how you made it back to your dorm, but you woke up at 3 in the afternoon the next morning and didn't bother going to the rest of your classes.

"That includes calling your mommy," Dabi mocked, close enough to be in striking distance.

Every Pledge knew to stay far away from this crazy bastard. He was joked to be so masochistic that he was the one responsible for the investigation in the first place.

But he sought you out so much you had almost seen him every day this week. Enough to count every piercing on his face, wonder what each of his tattoos meant and why he had so many.

He took a glance down to your hand.

"Whaddya got a hard-on or something?"

You shot your hand out of your pocket, knife-less, defenseless, and embarrassed, sparking a smirk across his face.

Your dick was not hard right now, but it wasn't opposed to getting off at the thought of Dabi's big hands, among other things.

It was worth wondering if they could all tell. You weren't flamboyant, but you supposed that not being straight wasn't their only reason to shun you.

You wondered if they knew about Dabi's equality tattoo, a small but mighty symbol under his arm that you managed to get a glimpse of at one party after staring at him too long. He made you his personal servant many times for that problem throughout the semester.

It gave you the chance to pick up on things that weren't so traditional about him.

In truth, it only made your staring worse because you were certain he was more similar to you than anyone would care to think.

He closed the distance between you and sized you up while you put your hands behind your back. You couldn't believe you had forgotten to until now; that was what your class was supposed to do when a Brother called on them.

Dabi's breath was warm and minty on the side of your face when he muttered, "You're gonna show me your dorm, Pledge."

A big, strong hand shoved you hard. Back into the direction you had been walking. There was not much you could do now, other than shakily guide him back to the one place you felt safe.

taglist:

none. reply to be added for part 2!

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