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marzipanandminutiae · 2 days

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Friend Marzi, why do we have an inclination to believe that all historical clothing was very heavy? Fabrics varied in lightness and for the very heat of summer for example an all-silk or all-muslin ensemble could be made very light and breathable if necessary, even foregoing implements like boning, etc. Like, there are ways to not be dragging your skirts around.

Working people and people with active hobbies were already wearing fewer layers anyway, so we shouldn't expect them to be encumbered. Why do we anyway?

Friend Tumblr User Chasingtheskyline! Hello!

(This answer will focus primarily on conventionally feminine clothing, since that's my area of expertise. Just to disclaim.)

I think it's because of the layering, really. And the idea that, as you touched on, Only Rich People Wore All That (not so much- the basic makeup of chemise/combinations, maybe drawers post-1820s, corset/stays, at least one petticoat, skirt, bodice for women was pretty consistent across most of the social ladder during the 18th and 19th centuries at least) so of COURSE it's heavy and impractical. And as we all know, rich people didn't have lives or do things! They just lounged around being rich and not moving! </s>

We're used to one layer of our mostly-polyester clothing being extremely warming in summer because. It's polyester. Breathability is not something people think about much nowadays, since we're so used to just exposing as much skin as possible to cool down. Ergo, the idea that it's layers of lightweight fabric doesn't really occur to people, I think.

Another element, I think, may be that some of these people have carried reproduction historical garments but never worn them. Or weighed them in a heap on a scale- yes, really -and never taken into account the weight distribution when they're on a body. I've owned garments that were a bear to carry, but perfectly comfortable to wear.

Also, you know. We've long had a vested interest in making our own garments seem like The Best Most Advanced Garments. You can find articles from as early as the 1920s decrying Victorian "trailing skirts and trailing hair" as unhygienic and uncomfortable Never mind that the ADULTS saying this would have known full well that shorter skirts were commonplace for situations where Excessive Dirt would be present and grown women wore their hair up. (Also, you know. Unless you're licking your hem, your skirts cannot get you sick.)

Either you're getting only the experiences of women who hated what they wore before- which would somehow be the same fashion writers who once declared that the gowns of 1915 were the best, or 1910, or 1905 -or they had a vested interest in selling something to the public: in this case, the hottest, newest clothes (and hairstyles that required more regular trips to the hairdresser than long hair pinned up). Of course you get those writers calling earlier clothing heavy- they're trying to get people to buy rayon flapper dresses!

Now, does that mean that nobody in history found their clothing heavy? Of course not. One of Amelia Bloomer's key complaints about the fashions of the 1840s and early 50s was the many layers of petticoats women often wore to create the fashionable skirt shape- and while I'm often loath to take dress reformers as sole arbiters of women's opinion, the invention of the cage crinoline/hoop skirt was widely hailed as a marvel for enabling big skirts with much less weight.

But you're so right that this perception is extremely exaggerated nowadays. I do my best to fight it- had this conversation with a colleague today, as I was wearing a long-sleeved blouse of cotton voile and a long cotton skirt to work in 80-degree (F) weather -but. Well. It DOES get frustrating at times.

#long post #chasingtheskyline #ask #history #fashion history #clothing history

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thewertsearch · 21 hours

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Kanaya <3

This is the first troll we've seen who's not a newborn grub or thirteenish-year-old Player. I guess they pupate directly into a scaled-down version of their adult body.

She looks barely larger than a grub, so it can't have been long since the trials, assuming the Sburb trolls did them at all. The comic has never elaborated on what these trials entail, but I think this is the first aspect of Homestuck's universe that I don't want a loredrop on.

GA: I Dont Mean Hes The Universe You Are From GA: We Engineered That Incarnation GA: He Is The Universe That You Are Trying To Create

GA: That Statement Was As Literal As You Can Possibly Make Words Be GA: I Know Your Species Is Frequently Insincere For A Variety Of Reasons GG: but your species is too! […] GA: Thats True But When We Do It Its Usually Just Because We Are Trying To Be Jerks

And when you're trying not to be jerks, too. Alternia is just kind of.... like that.

GG: i try to say what i mean as much as i can GA: Yeah I Think Ive Been Discerning That GA: Its A Nice Change Of Pace […] GG: haha, you mean from rose?

Jade knows what the fuck is up. Maybe it's her turn to wingman for Rose.

GA: I Wont Be Speaking To Her Anymore Though GG: why? GG: oh yeah, because you said she is blacked out? GG: what the heck does that mean! GA: It Just Means In A Few Moments From Your Perspective I Wont Be Able To See Her Through My Viewport Or Talk To Her

The blackout occurred while these two girls were in conversation, meaning Rose is about to message Jade right as it kicks in.

This message is obviously important - but what could it be? Is Rose trying to warn Jade about the circumstances that cause the blackout, in order to protect her from its effects?

GA: She Has Been Relying On The Powers And Counsel Of Dark Gods And Other Sources Of Ambiguous Intent GA: And She Has Consequently Devised A Plan Which Sounds Very Dangerous To Me GG: yeah, i didnt like the sound of her plan either! GA: You Are More Sensible GA: Its Probably The Influence Skaia Has Had On You GA: Having Spent Much Of Your Life Awake On Prospit GA: Like Me

We've talked before about what Dream Moon affinity really means for a Player. The theory I liked the most was that Prospit kids are predisposed to follow their fate, whereas Derse kids are inclined to defy their destiny.

This seems like more fuel for that fire, as Rose's acts of desperation and defiance clash with Jade's more levelheaded, 'sensible' attitude. rose, you're going to break something! :o

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #3320 #s118 #my spellcheck kept correcting jerks to jerma. your name is JEREMY ANDIEE #also: yes i see him. we'll get to him.

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delzinrowe · 22 hours

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Nightmares - Choso x Reader

⠀⠀✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ ⠀⠀⠀It's all a nightmare, and you can't wake up.

WORD COUNT: ~2.4K WARNINGS: Angst, hurt, much needed comfort. F!Reader. SUMMARY: Y/N didn’t want to close her eyes. Closing them meant seeing those god awful images again. [Spoiler for Chapter 259!] A/N: This is for all my fellow Choso girlies. Chapter 259 never happened. Stay strong. Stay delulu.

↺ home⠀⠀|◁ masterlist⠀⠀II hc/brainrots⠀⠀▷| kofi⠀⠀♡

One moment.

That was all it took. Just one moment of carelessness. One brief second of Inattentiveness. In the short time Choso had he acted on instinct, ignoring his fear and putting others above him like many times before.

All Y/N could do was stand by and watch, frozen by shock and panic as she witnessed the flames lashing out. Although it happened in the blink of an eye she could have sworn time fate pressed the slow-motion button. There was nothing left she could do.

Tears started to spill from her eyes uncontrollably, they went unnoticed by her. But she could hear someone scream, a gut-wrenching screech, that she didn’t realize came from her own throat.

“Choso!”, it was all she could come up with, all that was in her mind. The image burnt into her mind, preparing to haunt her in every waking moment of her uncertain future.

Red hot flames blazed up high, threatening to set even the air surrounding her on fire. It was only then that she took in the smell of burnt flesh. If there had been time she might have paid attention to the nauseating feeling it caused as her stomach churned.

All too soon Choso had completely vanished, leaving behind not only his little brother Yuji but also Y/N with a heavy broken heart. Her mind blanked, nothing could have ever prepared her for this.

Life as a sorcerer was hard enough, and she knew that there was a possibility of dying every single day, especially with the odds stacked so high against them. Yet, it never occurred to her that she would lose him of all people, in such a cruel way no less.

Him, who she had been suspicious of from the beginning. Him, who she always had her watchful eye on whenever he was around the younger students. Him, who she looked at with less concern with each passing day once she allowed herself to get to know him. Him, who elicited chuckles and laughs from her even when he said something awkward or nonsensical. Him, who opened up more and more to her when he decided to fully embrace his human side. Him, who for some reason kept reaching out to her whenever he wanted to learn more about being human, despite having his little brother Yuji. Him, who slowly made his way into her heart more and more with each passing day. Him, who she was too afraid to confess to…

In an instant everything went dark. A screech rang in her ears for what felt like an eternity. Y/N jolted awake, beads of sweat having formed on her forehead. Her wide open eyes scanned the room, as her body fought to control her ragged breathing.

After a little while her vision accustomed to the darkness, making out the shapes of the furniture. If she hadn’t been so shaken up by the visuals still in her mind she might have felt embarrassed about how long it took her to realize she was in her own bedroom.

However, even in the supposed safety of her own quarters, Y/N couldn’t compose herself. Heavy tears spilled from her blood shot eyes. The smell of burnt flesh, the heat of the flames, even the sight of scorched earth kept replaying in her mind, tormenting her furthermore. Having these moments played out in her dreams repeatedly, being tormented by nightmares night after night… It felt like a cruel joke.

“Well, there’s no point in sleeping now…” A deep sigh followed her mumbled words. Talking to oneself was normal, right? Or maybe she was on the road to going insane. After eventually leaving her bed, she walked into the bathroom to splash her face with some cold water. It was meant to help her wake up faster from her sleepy state whenever she was faced with a nightmare, and with time it had become somewhat of a routine.

She didn’t even spare one glance at her reflection in the mirror. It would only show the same thing: blood shot eyes adorned with dark rings.

Her feet dragged her out of the room. Was it possible for a person to act on autopilot for days on end? If so, it was her recently. She couldn’t tell you at what point she put on her jacket or shoes, or when exactly she reached for her keys and headed out.

Darkness still swallowed most of the surroundings. The moon’s small scythe barely illuminated anything, but in all fairness it was all pretty much a haze and a blur to Y/N anyway.

How long had she been walking? It could have been anything between ten minutes and an hour. She wouldn’t even be able to tell anymore. Much like a zombie she simply kept walking where her feet took her, they had a mind of their own at this point.

She didn’t want to close her eyes. Closing them meant seeing those god awful images again. If only she tried hard enough maybe she could keep them open forever? What a miserable kind of wishful thinking.

Before she knew it she stood in front of a door, the heavy knocking of her own hand seemingly ripping her out of her own trance. Almost aggressively she banged her fist against the wood, only stopping once she heard the shuffling steps behind it.

“Y/N? Wh–” She wouldn’t even let him finish the question, which she knew would only have the same answer as the many times before. Instead she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face in his shirt. Once more tears spilled from her eyes, staining the oversized shirt she had her face pressed against.

“You dreamt of it again, didn’t you?” His question was met with a squeeze of her hold as she tried to tighten it more, desperately clinging to his frame as if her entire life depended on it.

“Choso…” The single word she uttered was muffled, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She knew he’d understand it no matter what, just like he understood that she needed his embrace now more than ever. Quiet sobs followed soon after. Were her eyes hurting from the lack of sleep or the many tears she had cried recently. Perhaps it was both.

“I’m right here.” Choso spoke in a tone that was far more gentle and soft than usual. A tone that was reserved solely for her. It had taken him a while to learn different human customs, yet he knew exactly what to do whenever she wanted to hug him. Thus he instantly reciprocated by wrapping his own strong arms around her.

Learning about human behavior, traditions and customs wasn’t difficult for him, especially when she taught him. He was quick to understand that sometimes emotions needed to flow freely and all he could do was to offer comfort in whichever form he could.

“I can’t lose you.” Y/N kept mumbling her words, almost as if she wasn’t aware that he could actually hear them. It was a moment of vulnerability. Raw and unfiltered. The bare emotion she emitted was heavy yet beautiful.

“You won’t.”

Through the tears she scoffed at his words, barely pushing her head off his chest to shake it in disagreement.

“You don’t know that.” Despite talking to him Y/N didn’t face him. Perhaps she was too afraid of what he might think of her tear stained features. As if he hadn’t seen her weep many times before.

“Look at me.” It was astounding how soft and gentle his tone could be, and if she hadn’t been too busy being plagued by negative emotions she would have praised him for his remarkable empathy towards human sentiments.

But she did as he asked, haltingly lifting her gaze up. One look into his eyes and she nearly forgot the horrifying images that had awoken her earlier this night. For a cursed spirit he sure was enchanting. His presence had an uncannily peaceful aura but no one except Y/N seemed to take notice of it.

Choso glanced at her, he took in every single nuance of those glossy eyes that had shown him compassion and kindness when others had been wary and cautious. He had always been a fast learner and had soaked up everything she taught him about human traditions and emotions like a sponge. He was no stranger to the feelings she stirred up inside him, and he was sure that he caused the same kind of feelings inside her. Or, at least he hoped for it.

He almost forgot that he wanted to speak, all because of the way she looked at him, as if he was her life line. If it had been anyone else the silence might have been eerily uncomfortable, however with her it was everything but.

“I won’t lose me. I wouldn’t leave you alone.” It was a subconscious instinct to pull her tighter against him. For a brief moment he swore he saw the faintest hint of a smile flash on her lips but all too soon she buried her face in his shirt once more. Her weight shifted to lean more against him, perhaps because she felt safe in his embrace. How ironic to show your most vulnerable side and feel safest in the arms of a dangerous cursed spirit who happened to be your former enemy. None of it mattered anymore.

“I should head hom–”

“No. You’ll stay here. There’s no chance I will let you go home so you can experience the same nightmare again.” He didn’t let Y/N finish her sentence, he wouldn’t let her argue over it. The woman knew him well enough to be aware of his subtle stubborn nature.

Unbeknownst to Choso, her lips curled into a soft smile when he interjected her words. The dreadful feeling in her gut dissipated, making space for a happier sensation. She couldn’t explain their friendship properly. With the way the two behaved when they were alone she knew fully well that there was more between them, but speaking about it might disrupt what they had now. For the time being she was happy with how things were. Even if she knew that she should tell him about her feelings before it was too late. She couldn’t bear the thought of her nightmare turning into reality.

Minutes passed as the two still stood in the hallway, and neither of them said anything, simply letting the comfortable silence linger between them. Choso wasn’t sure how much time really passed, not that he actually cared about it. The only thing he cared about was getting Y/N into bed and making sure she could rest peacefully. Only when he heard her yawn against his chest did he decide to break the silence.

“You need to rest.” Admittedly, it was an obvious observation, but in his defense Choso wasn’t sure how to tell Y/N that she needed to sleep, and that he wouldn’t let her leave without at least a couple of hours of proper sleep.

“No, I just need you.” The female sorcerer slurred her words, it seemed quite evident that exhaustion was taking over her. Although she did fight against the oncoming sleep, it was futile. His warm embrace, paired with the way he gently reassured her lulled her into a feeling of safety.

The beating heart in his chest surely exposed his feelings, with her ear being so close to it he was convinced she’d hear it as clear as his voice.

“I’m here, and I’ll always be.” With more and more of her weight leaning into him he couldn’t drag her to the bed on her feet. Further exhausting her or risking her stumbling over her feet was the last thing he wanted.

Despite feeling uncertain of how to proceed, Choso knew he had to get her to bed. His only logical option was to carry her. He didn’t waste any time in picking up the young woman by hooking his arm underneath her knees and pulling her up to his chest. Instinctively Y/N’s head dropped onto his shoulder. The view of her like this nearly made the black haired’s knees give out. How he wished that he could simply tell her what he felt, but now wasn’t the right time. For now he needed to get her to bed and let her sleep without any disruptions.

Which is exactly what he did. Without further delay he carried her into his bedroom, as if she didn’t weigh anything to him at all. No thought went to it, it came easy to him as his physical strength was immaculate. However, once he stood in front of his bed he couldn’t find it in himself to set her down. An intense urge to keep holding her, to protect her and shield her overcame him.

“You’ll stay, right?” Y/N’s quiet words surprised him. Her closed eyes deceived him to think she had already been asleep, which made hearing her voice now unexpected.

“I’ll stay, of course.” Not a moment of hesitation as he reassured her. Nothing could have made Choso leave her side, especially not now. Eventually he gently placed her on the mattress, careful not to cause her any discomfort. Instead of taking his leave he kept his word and stayed with her, laying down next to her with his arms wrapped around her frame.

“Don’t leave, you promise…?” A smile tugged on the corner of the curse’s lips at just how exhausted and sleepy she sounded when she spoke. She fought hard to stay awake long enough to hear his reply. Although her efforts were in vain, before he could reply, sleep took a hold of her and engulfed her in darkness, albeit a soft and warm kind of darkness.

“I’ll never leave.” Meanwhile he struggled to fight his own urge. The urge to hold her tighter and kiss her forehead.

“I promise.”

Screw it. The urges won him over as Choso leaned closer to Y/N. Tenderly he pressed a kiss onto her forehead, which conveyed more emotions than any words he had ever spoken to her. Maybe he was a coward for not telling her about his feelings, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t know exactly what kind of shared love the two had developed even without verbally expressing it.

Choso glanced at her once more, taking in her still features and how her chest rose and set in a steady rhythm. How come this woman had so easily found her way into his heart?

Some day he would tell her. Some day she would respond that she reciprocated his feelings. Some day. But until then he’d be by her side even without words to speak.

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calaisreno · 9 hours

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A Tiny Bit Not Good

1559 Words / Prompt: Experiment

“I made you coffee.”

Frowning, John turns and regards his flatmate. Sherlock never makes him coffee, tea, or anything else. And he’s smiling, which in itself is alarming—not that genuine smile that occasionally creeps through. It’s that creepy, sociopath smile.

“You never make coffee.”

“I just did. Don’t you like it?”

John takes a sip, only to be polite. “Ugh. I don’t take sugar.”

Disappointment pulls at the corners of Sherlock’s mouth.

Well, no sense in letting a good deed go unrewarded. If encouraged, Sherlock might develop a habit of doing nice things.

“It’s fine, Sherlock. I needed a pick-me-up.” John takes another sip. There’s a strange under-taste to the coffee. Probably decaf. “I appreciate the gesture.”

His mad flatmate studies him with a strange expression. He’s watching John’s mouth. Or maybe his throat. John takes another sip. Swallows.

He frowns. “You don’t usually make coffee.” His voice is unusually squeaky. “Ta for that.” When he says this, his voice breaks.

“Scratchy throat,” suggests Sherlock. “Drink up.”

He drains the mug, and looks up at Sherlock. Bloody hell, he’s tall… Reaching to set the empty mug on the counter, he finds it’s now above his head. Why is he on the floor? Everything is tall.

He also notices that his dressing gown has fallen off and he’s standing in the middle of the kitchen, naked.

As Sherlock takes the mug from his hand, John notices how small his own hand seems by comparison. He looks down at himself. Other things are small as well.

“What did you do?” He looks up at his flatmate and understands that the coffee was not a nice gesture, the strange taste not a mistake, and the fact that he’s only three feet tall is—

“An experiment.” Sherlock smiles in the way he does when he’s found something particularly interesting under the lens of his microscope.

“You shrank me!”

“No, John. What purpose would that serve? I did not shrink you; I de-aged you.”

There are a number of questions that occur to John, but only one word makes it out of his mouth: “Fuck!”

If things can get worse, John thinks, they generally do. Especially when Sherlock is experimenting. The downstairs door bangs and Lestrade is taking the steps two at a time. The game is clearly afoot.

“Sherlock, I’ve—“ The DI stares at John. “Who’s this?”

“This is John’s nephew, Hamish.”

“Where’s John?”

Sherlock picks his (naked!) flatmate up, jostles him on his hip. (Picks him up?!?) “He’s working today. I’m babysitting.” He plants a kiss on John’s forehead. “Isn’t that right, my little man?”

“I’m not a baby.” His voice sounds high, petulant. “I’m not your little man.”

“Somebody’s cranky,” says Lestrade, grinning. “Maybe he needs a little N-A-P.”

“I can spell,” he tells the DI. “And I’m not taking a nap.” He turns his wrath on Sherlock, kicking his tiny feet against his hip. “Put me down, you fucking tit— now! I have to go pee-pee.”

Once potty-time is sorted, John is dressed in a tiny pair of corduroy trousers and a little beige jumper. The fact that Sherlock has these on hand shows more premeditation than John cares to think about. Once Sherlock has tied his shoes (John seems to have forgotten whether the bunny goes around the tree or into the hole), they head off to the crime scene.

Donovan laughs when she sees him holding Sherlock’s hand. “Not gay,” he snaps.

“I see Sherlock has found himself a tiny doctor!” She’s modulating her voice as if John were a puppy or a—

“—baby? Absolutely not, Sherlock! You can’t bring a kid to a crime scene.”

“He’s very mature,” Sherlock tells Lestrade.

While Sherlock is arguing with the DI, John is already examining the corpse.

“Asphyxiation,” he tells them. “Note the petechiae.”

“Too much telly,” Sherlock explains.

“Honestly,” Sally huffs. “Who would leave a child with you, Freak?” She takes John’s hand, then grabs him under the arms when he pulls away, shifts him to her hip. “What were your mummy and daddy thinking?”

“They’re dead,” he informs her. “And Sherlock isn’t a freak. If you ever call him that again, I’m gonna hit you.” He raises a tiny fist threateningly.

“Look at you,” she says, grinning. “You’re adorable.”

“Come along, Hamish,” Sherlock says, scooping him out of her arms. “Time for that nap you refused earlier.”

He is starting to feel a bit sleepy, but to admit this will only result in him being confined to his room. And he has no intention of letting Sherlock get away with this experiment.

Even so, he finds his head dropping to Sherlock’s shoulder in the cab.

Growing takes a lot of energy. He hopes he’s growing, at least, as he falls asleep on the sofa.

At six o’clock the front bell rings, and John has a terrible feeling he’s forgotten something. He hears Mrs Hudson open it and begin talking to a woman.

“My date!” he says, sliding off the sofa and heading for the stairs. “I almost forgot. Tell her I’ll be right down.”

“Your date?” Sherlock chuckles. “Won’t she be a bit… erm… put off?”

He looks down at himself. “Jesus. I forgot. Look, will you just—“

But before he can complete his thought, Alicia is at the door, looking annoyed.

“Is John here?” She gives Sherlock a disdainful look. “You must be his flatmate, the one he always talks about.”

Sherlock smiles. “John’s busy. He told me to tell you—“

John steps up. “I thought we might see a movie tonight.”

“Movie?” She laughs.

“There’s this one about dragons,” he begins.

“Too scary.” Sherlock picks him up again.

“Why do you keep doing that?” John kicks and flails, trying to land a hit, but Sherlock’s arms are very long.

“I’m afraid John won’t be able to take you to a movie,” Sherlock informs Alicia. “Actually, he prefers much younger women.”

Her eyes bug out, then narrow. “Is this his kid? He never said anything about having a kid.”

“It’s a surprise.”

John isn’t very sorry to hear the front door slam. Alicia really was a bit old for him.

He sighs. “Sherlock, I want to be a grownup again. Please reverse this— whatever you did to me.” His eyes fill with tears and he feels his lip trembling. “Please.”

Sherlock squats down and studies him. “Fascinating. Not only has your body de-aged, your brain is becoming less mature as well. You have the body and emotions of a small child. But your memory remains intact. At the crime scene, you were able to determine the cause of death, referring to information you acquired as an adult. Do you understand the implications of this, John? It could revolutionise education— think, if we could just restore a brain’s plasticity, learning might be unlimited.”

John rubs his eyes. “Please turn me back. I don’t wanna be a ‘speriment.”

“But this is ground-breaking!”

“But… but who’ll take care of me? Who’ll make me sandwiches and tell me stories and tuck me into bed at night? Who’ll make sure that bad people don’t hurt me?”

Sherlock pulls him into his lap. “No worries. I’ll do all that, John.”

“No, you won’t! You’ll run off to a crime scene and leave me by myself. You’ll get hurt and be in hospital and I’ll be all alone. Or maybe you’ll die again—” At this he burst into tears.

Sherlock pats his back until John’s cries turn to hiccups. “You’re right, John. I’d be a terrible parent. And I’m afraid that a re-aging drug hasn’t yet been perfected. You’ll just have to grow up, I’m afraid. Maybe some nice family will adopt you.”

This pronouncement causes another spell of crying.

Sherlock carries his flatmate into the kitchen and sets him on his chair. He opens his phone, types a message and sends it. Then he makes coffee.

As John watches, he adds two teaspoons of sugar to his cup and stirs. Then he drinks it down.

“What are you doing?” John hops off the chair, begins to pull at Sherlock’s trousers. “Sherlock, don’t!”

“It’s the only way, John. I turned you into a child; it’s only fair that I suffer the same fate.”

The trousers become loose and slip to the floor, the shirt swallows him up, and within thirty seconds, Sherlock is looking John in the eye, smiling.

“You’re naked,” John says, giggling. “Maybe we can take a bath.”

“I hate baths,” Sherlock replies, very haughty for someone who is barely three feet tall. “Wait, are you taller than me?”

John laughs. “We’re both little! But who’s going to take care of us?”

The bell downstairs rings. They hear Mrs Hudson talking to someone, then heavy feet ascending the stairs.

“Sherlock, what have you done?” Mycroft looks annoyed, then somewhat puzzled. Then he seems to realise. “Oh, dear god! How did you get your hands on it? I told you the antidote hadn’t been perfected yet!”

“I’d like some ginger nuts,” Sherlock replies. “And some milk to go with them. And before you ask, I refuse to take a nap. Naps are boring.”

“I’m afraid it’s not up to you, little brother.” He turns his glare on John. “And I hope I won’t have to threaten you as well, Doctor.”

John does not flinch. “I think we’d both find that embarrassing, Dumbarse.”

... you can imagine the rest, Dear Reader. Mycroft had no plans to raise children, but I think we know who's responsible for this tiny adventure.

Comment on AO3

#mayprompts2024 #experiment

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papercranesandpride · 2 days

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I know it's the kind of thing that makes conservatives lose their minds, but I do think we need to explicitly tell people: it is possible for you to want different genitals. Even if you're cis. Even if you're nonbinary. Even if you like presenting like your assigned gender at birth. Because even when I knew I was nonbinary, the idea of wanting different genitals never even occured to me as an option. That's for "real" trans people. Binary trans people. I still partially identified as a woman at the time, and why would a woman ever even think about having a penis? She wouldn't. So I never did.

Then one day someone tweeted something saying "r/GrowYourClit, a whole subreddit full of cis women trying to achieve bottom growth, is a thing that exists. Transition is a lot more complicated than we paint it as." And that thought did not leave my head. All it took was one person saying "actually you can want a penis even if you're a woman" for my entire world to change and for me to realize that I actually, desperately wanted that.

We need to tell people, even children, that it is not normal to feel uncomfortable about your genitals. You should like them. They should feel like part of you. It is okay to think that maybe you'd like a different set better.

I spent my entire life not knowing that it was possible to feel more comfortable in my body. Not knowing that I should feel more comfortable than I did. We need to make a world where people do know that. Where they know they have other options and are empowered to get them.

#transgender #trans #nonbinary #non binary #queer #lgbt #lgbtq #dysphoria

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soapymansuds · 19 hours

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Eternity and Counting

Pt.3

(Pt1, Pt2)

(I am SOOOOOO sorry I didn't post on Tuesday. Full honestly, I forgot. But today's chapter is a touch longer than usual as an apology. And by just a touch, I mean almost double the length of both previous chapters<3)

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad.

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.Keep reading

~/\~

Since that day, my life, or afterlife I suppose, has been relatively simple. When I'm not resting in the garden, I'm running small errands for Michael. It's easy enough to avoid recognition here, but for the sake of my peace of mind, I wear a cloaking spell whenever I'm out. Simeon agreed not to tell anybody about my presence, and in exchange, he asked that I let him join me on my errands, even if he doesn't recognize me. He claims I could have any face in all three realms, and my presence would still bring him comfort. Sometimes he brings me updates on how the others are doing. Usually, he talks about Luke and his growth. He often avoids talking about the Devildom, and whether that's because he doesn't want to upset me or because he simply can't face them knowing what he knows, I've yet to figure out. It's a nice thought, him trying not to remind me of the best part of my life. But it's not overly helpful, given that, even if physical representations of our bonds weren't burned into my skin, everything I do reminds me of them anyway. I know it's selfish of me to make him keep my secret. But to be fair, I decided nearly a year ago that I am an inherently selfish creature, and I've come to terms with it.

Now that I'm on my own, things are easier. Nobody relies on me for much more than fetching papers or goods, and any failures that occur are mine to handle alone. It's simple. It's lonely. But it's simple. And it's good.

I suppose all good things must come to an end though. As I follow my long-since memorized path through the Celestial Palace, I can't help but wonder why I've been summoned. Usually, if Michael has a task for me, he simply brings it to me. But today he asked I meet him in the throne room, so here I am.

I'm greeted as soon as I swing open the door. "MC! Thank you for coming so quickly."

I'm nearly caught off guard by the use of my real name in public. For the sake of secrecy, Michael and Simeon have taken to calling me a fake name for the duration of my stay here.

"How can I help?" I nod as I close the door behind me. I take notice of Simeon's presence and he looks nervous. Never a good sign.

"I have some paperwork I need run to the Devildom. Usually I'd send Simeon, but I need him for another task today and this is rather urgent." Michael grins at me, likely in an attempt to sweeten the plan he's certain I would protest if given the chance.

I'm nearly nauseous at the idea of it. "You're joking, right? I mean this so genuinely, have you lost it?"

There's a flash of amusement on his face before he responds, "I would never make light of your trauma, no I am not joking. You have your cloaking spell, and all you need to do is hand the papers over to Barbatos. Maybe if he's busy, you'll have to hand them to Lord Diavolo himself. But then you can just come straight back. Simple and easy."

I stare at him, dead eyed and confused. "Yeah, seems super simple." I groan, sarcasm laced in every letter. "There's no getting out of this, is there?" I glance desperately at Simeon who seems to have loosened some of the tension in his spine at my pseudo acceptance of the whole ordeal. He shakes his head.

"Fine." I sigh. "Open'r up." with a lazy wave of my arm.

Michael nods, same fatherly grin plastered on his face as always. I'm sure he's convinced he's won some sort of mental battle, and maybe he has. Either way, he summons the portal, and I steal my nerves to step through. "I'm getting two days off when I get back." I call, lunging through the portal.

On the other side, I take a quick moment to make sure my cloaking spell hasn't warn off before looking around. I'm right where I had assumed I'd be. The courtyard's grand arches and elegant gazebo bring a chilly feeling of recognition to the back of my mind. How many gallas and celebrations had I spent out here, in search of some form of peace from the hustle and bustle? How many times had I stumbled upon Levi, or him upon me, in search of the same thing? I think for a moment that I wouldn't mind him stumbling upon me now.

I shake the thought from my mind as quickly as it occurs. Just deliver the paperwork.

I begin the path to the castle without a thought. The trail ingrained into my very psyche. I almost laugh at the thought. I abandoned this place, yet it never left me. What is it Djo said about men and cities?

I never allowed myself to dwell on it from the comfort of Michael's garden, but God did I miss the sky here. Something about the ever present swirling of purples and blues splashed across the stars is purely... divine. Not to say that the Celestial realm wasn't stunning. But there was always this sense of perfectionism, even in the natural landscape. It never felt right to me. Not like this at least. This has always been chaotic, but in the way a toddler helping in the kitchen is chaotic. Sure, shit's a mess and you're near certain it's going to end poorly, but if you take just a moment to watch it unfold, there's beauty in it.

I wish I could have been reborn as a demon.

No. No I don't. Living out the rest of my days, infinite as they may be, facing them with my own selfishness. I'm sure it would kill me a second time.

I'm utterly lost in thought and the view of the sky as I follow the path. So much so, I nearly miss the tail swishing on the ground in front of me. Luckily for me, it bats my ankle gently before I manage to step on it. Double luck, the contact doesn't wake it's sleeping owner.

Belphegor snores softly in the grass next to the path, curled up with his back to me. Something in me instinctively wants to curl up with him, but I know I can't. So instead, I sit. Divine garb be damned, I'm sitting on the dirt, watching him sleep. I consider making a run for it, but the subtle pull he's always had keeps me calm and still. Even in his sleep, even with our pact burned away, his presence still lulls me like a child.

I shake my head as if I were actually dozing off. Was I? Regardless, I stand up, settling to move him out of the trail, just a little. For the sake of the hazard he poses to himself and others. He's as warm as I remember as I press him further into the grass, tucking his tail over his leg before quickly stepping away and back to my task.

A warm feeling I can just barely remember washes over me and stops me in my tracks. How could I, after over a year away, fall so quickly back into routine. Not only how could I, but how dare I? I made my decision, and I've got no right to just wander in here and return to my position, doting and fawning over them. I truly am a selfish creature.

I tried to explain it to them, time and time again. But they simply refused to believe me. I cared so much, not because of them, but because I needed to. I needed to care for them to feel useful. Asmodeus once told me that I was a "pleasure sub". I told him I was willing to rip my own heart out to please him, but mostly because i never much cared for it anyway.

(As always, thank you soooo much for reading. If you'd like to be tagged in future uploads, please comment to be added to the list!)

-Your Friend, The Author

*tags*

@spffldlbrnf

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #mammon x reader #obey me angst #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon

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airas-story · 23 hours

Text

Cats

“Okay, that’s just ridiculous,” Tony argued as he threw the book down on the table between him and Stephen. He pointed at the passage he’d just read. “There is no way you can really do that.”

Stephen looked at the passage, then smirked at him, that supercilious expression that he used purely to taunt Tony. “Are you really doubting what I’m capable of, Tony? You know better than that.”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. No way can you shapeshift.” He looked down at the picture that was showing a detailed series of images of a human turning into a cat. “Especially not into a cat. You’re a sorcerer, not a witch!”

“Admittedly, I never have,” Stephen said. “But I could. And the relation between witches and cats is almost entirely a fictional gimmick, just so you know.”

“Do it, then,” Tony told him, ignoring the last part.. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m watching.”

Stephen copied him, leaning back in his own chair. “I have nothing to prove to you, Tony.”

Tony smirked. “Meaning you can’t.”

Stephen didn’t look impressed. “You’re not going to bait me into turning into a cat, Tony.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “You know what, I bet Loki can. Isn’t shapeshifting one of his major skills? Thor told me a story of Loki turning into a snake.”

In order to stab Thor, but Tony didn’t mention that. Stephen already thought that Loki was a menace to society, no need to give him further proof that he was, just maybe, right.

“You’re not going to bait me into turning into a cat, Tony,” Stephen repeated, but there was a specific glint in his eyes that meant Tony’s poke had successfully riled Stephen. “I don’t care whether Loki can or can’t do a specific piece of magic.”

Tony shifted tactics. He placed his elbows on the table and leaned his chin on his fists. “Uh huh.”

Stephen glared at him. “You. Are. Not. Baiting. Me.”

“I agreed with you,” Tony pointed out. “That’s what ‘uh huh’ means. It’s in the dictionary and everything. I’m not doing any baiting. Obviously you don’t need to prove anything when it comes to Loki.”

Stephen leaned forward and flipped the page of the book, shoving it at Tony. “You should maybe be a little less eager,” he said. “Because a sorcerer’s transformation abilities extend beyond personal shapeshifting.”

Tony examined the page. There was another image of a human transforming into a cat, but this time it wasn’t the sorcerer. Huh. “So you’re saying that you could turn me into a cat?” he asked. “Wait, are you threatening to turn me into a cat? Rude. But also, I’d be an excellent cat." He paused as an idea occurred to him. "You know... we could be cats together.” He grinned at Stephen. “We could cuddle in patches of sunlight.”

Stephen sighed. “You really are not to be deterred, are you?”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t see why I would be. Plus, if something went wrong, either Wong or Loki could save us, right?”

“First of all, nothing would go wrong. Second, under no circumstances would I ever let Loki save me. And third, nothing would go wrong.”

Tony hummed in agreement—to be fair, he didn’t want Loki to save them, either; Loki would never let it go—as he read the passage on other-human transformations. And really, sometimes the things Stephen was capable of were a little scary. At the same time, Tony trusted Stephen completely.

Also, Tony was pretty sure they’d both make great cats. Plus, if they were cats, no one would judge them for taking a naps.

That’d be nice.

And Stephen desperately needed more sleep, so the naps would be good for him.

“You are absolutely hopeless,” Stephen muttered. “Fine. Let me study the spell.”

Tony looked up and beamed at Stephen. “We’re going to be cats?”

Stephen sighed. “Yes, we can be cats.”

#ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #fic

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mdhwrites · 2 days

Note

I’ve been watching Amphibia while studying. I should definitely do a rewatch during the summer, but it’s occurred to me that Amphibia’s strengths are criminally underrated.

Amphibia feels like a more focused show than TOH. It has its flaws ofc especially in Season 3, but Amphibia’s cast comes across as a lot more developed than TOH’s cast. I mean, Andrias got a dedicated flashback episode and Belos didn’t???

Amphibia’s execution of the found family trope is one of the best things I’ve seen in animation. In contrast, I always felt that King, Lilith, Eda, and the Hexside crew are plot devices to get Luz where she needs to go. Eda has some depth but generally speaking TOH never “got into their heads,” unlike with the Plantars, Sasha, Marcy, Grime, and Andrias.

And I gotta praise Amphibia’s ending!!! I wish more kids cartoons embraced the idea of permanent, bittersweet change. The idea of letting things go but not forgetting them.

So while I agree Amphibia is more focused, I actually don't think that's what the bigger difference is between TOH and Amphibia that I think needs to be highlighted. No, instead, I'm interrogate something you said: Does Belos not get a dedicated backstory episode? For that matter... Does he potentially get MORE time spent on backstory than Andrias?

Andrias literally only gets The Core and the King. He actually gets VERY little screentime, mostly because the effects of his cruelty are more important than what he does himself. So for backstory, he gets 11 minutes. MAYBE you could stretch to like 12 or 13 if you want to include hints to Lief but that's all post her time with him. So 11 minutes because Andrias only gets one segment, not two.

What does Belos get?

Well... I think everyone just forgets about Elsewhere Elsewhen. That IS backstory. That is previous characterization. It's not a flashback but it is still interacting with a Belos earlier in the timeline, like a backstory exposition dump or a flashback does. And interacting with Philip is the main purpose of the A plot of the episode, even if it takes a bit to get to him and then he dips out before the end.

As the author of the journal though, he also counts for backstory whenever passages of the journal are told to us. It's unreliable but it is still previous characterization. So stuff like Eclipse Lake and the end of Looking Glass Ruins adds a little here and there.

Then of course... What the fuck do you call Hollow Mind if not a dedicated backstory episode to Belos? The majority of the run time is literally go through his brain, and his memories, to show his rise to power. His backstory. And while there is technically a B plot, it doesn't take up much time so probably at least a third of the episode is spent on this and these are 22 minute episodes. If just two thirds get spent on backstory, that's more than Andrias gets.

So why doesn't it feel like that? Why does it feel like we get a VERY complete version of Andrias' backstory, despite seeing cumulatively three days in a row of his life, while it feels like we were never told Belos'?

Efficiency. Amphibia is a VERY efficient work. It crams a LOT into its run times. It's part of why the episodes are so satisfying because they actually manage to tell complete stories with morals, sometimes their own A and B plots in an 11 minute segment and actually move the characters forward a full step within the span of that time. It does this while also being hilarious and action packed, much more than TOH or, honestly, a lot of cartoons. Not every episode segment counts for this but ESPECIALLY the important ones do and The Core and the King should be taught in classes for how to get across a character's motivations and backstory in a nuanced, breezy way while also being DENSE. AS. FUCK.

In eleven minutes, we get a clear idea of the utopia that Andrias used to live in, the cost of that utopia, the pressures upon him as a prince, how deep his relationships are with two other characters, Lief gets some genuinely good characterization that helps explain her choice, a logical progression of events that matches with the sillier side of Andrias we know of, an escalation and then a climax. We can VERY clearly see what Andrias lost, what he is trying to get back, and why he would want it back on multiple levels, both societal, familial and even personal, that will motivate into being a MONSTER for a thousand years. All while still being a lot of fun and having some really great jokes. It introduces so many elements but it never feels bogged down by any of this. Instead, it chose the PERFECT moment to get across everything it needed to and left very few questions that you as an audience couldn't figure out yourselves. This also all while being explicit about much of the motivation and what not instead of relying on background details.

Which TOH can't claim for Belos. In Elsewhere Elsewhen, we see that Philip hates witches, that his journal is unreliable and that he has ALWAYS been an asshole and a manipulator. That's befitting who he will be but doesn't actually tell us jack shit. It also includes I guess how he met the Collector but that's moving plot, not expanding on your villain. Because the journal is unreliable, it tells us very little to nothing about him except for some reason he donated his journal to the people he fucking despised. Then Hollow Mind shows how he came to power... But not who he is. Not his motivation, what he actually wants to accomplish besides murder, etc. like that. The paintings in the background tell you far more just by being far more suggestive of what he's been through.

TOH is fucking awful when it comes to density. Most episodes, not even just Belos, have the problem of only taking half steps. Each of Belos' parts are those half steps. Revealing only one or two elements when it easily could have shown more to be more satisfying. As an example: Amphibia has a GREAT episode between Ivy and her mom about rebellion, the consequences of fighting what your parent wants for you, why they might do the things they do, etc. like that. In 11 minutes, we get a genuinely complex relationship between Ivy and her mom who haven't had much talk about each other or their relationship up until now. Meanwhile, TOH decides to focus on Luz being expelled for the episode about Amity and Odalia, meaning Amity is in like... Three, maybe five minutes of that episode? A full minute of that being the intro to the episode where she's just showing off the abomaton?

Because it isn't actually focused on Amity, the relationship between Amity and Odalia isn't actually explored. Because they can't explore that, they also need to now make Odalia cartoonishly villainous so as to fit the fact that Luz also spends very little time with her due to making the conflict be about Hexside so we have to waste some time with a stock standard montage of Luz, Willow and Gus trying to get back in. And by the end, what is the resolution between Amity and Odalia? "Get in my way again and I will kick your fucking ass."

Much deep. Very brave.

There's TONS of stuff like this where Amphibia is genuinely the work trying to do more interesting, more meaningful and deeper things than TOH and managing to do it in literally half the time. If not even less. That breakneck pace is part of what makes Amphibia feel like a kids show but it's also what makes it just more enjoyable to watch.

Which actually makes TOH fit in better with our current era of streaming television. TOH is constantly baiting you for the payoffs it promises. It keeps swearing that its elements are deeper than they appear so make sure to tune in next week because this SURELY can't be all there is to, right?

Unfortunately, that is all there is to it. And once you realize that and look at the show with that sort of lens, it starts falling apart. It's part of why TOH should be thankful it was shortened. It lets people more easily claim that it just needed another season. Another fourteen episodes. That TOTALLY would have solved all the problems with episodes that happened even before the shortening.

That is extremely rarely how this works everyone. Sorry.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#Emperor Belos #king andrias #toh critical #the owl house criticism #Amphibia

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s-creations · 3 days

Text

Fluctuates Chapter 1 - Confession

One-Shot entries for the #RadioStatic Week 2024.

Yep, I'm doing this again! I'm going to make sure that I can keep track with uploading this time. Also, I will be sticking with the Fluff path, because I need more Fluff with these two.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Alastor/Vox (RadioStatic) Warnings/Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lots of Fluff because I want it, Rosie will be in this, Probably other characters not sure at the moment.

“This was a stupid idea.”

Vox felt the unease that had been bubbling inside his stomach for at least a week suddenly burn stronger. The Media Demon slinked down further into the cafe’s rather uncomfortable iron chairs as he checked his watch again. He had arrived at the closest thing to a French patisserie café that Hell had to offer about 30 minutes before the scheduled meeting time. The time he had set and told the other to arrive at.

And for the past 25 of those minutes was spent looking like an idiot. Some passing sinners giving pitying looks as they passed. One even being stupid enough to try and offer comfort, believing that Vox had just been stood up.

“Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”

They are now a charred mark on the pavement.

So now Vox had to contend with the fact that he looked like a love struck idiot while also fighting the nerves down.

Why did he have to pick such a public place? Sure, he knew the café was the other demon’s favorite. Run by a citizen in Cannibal town that made strong black coffee, best combination. But this could end poorly, leaving a bad taste in both of their mouths. Plus, if Vox was gaining sympathy without anything actually happening to him, what would occur once his world fell apart? Would he be left alone to suffer? Would they never speak to each other again?

His attention snapped up hearing footsteps approaching the table. Shoulders rising in embarrassment when he just saw yet another random sinner passing. Said demon actually raised her hand to greet someone behind where Vox sat. Allowing Vox the decency to slide down once more in defeat.

“Of course that’s not him. You know his habits. He’ll be right on time. Appearing out of nowhere, just to freak you out, like he always does. ‘Because you look so adorable when you’re startled’. Adorable…he called me adorable. That must mean something, right? Fuck, why is this so difficult. Am I reading too far into this? Does he have a preference? He’s never shown interest in anyone before, so why in the whole of Hell would he settle for me?”

“Goodness, you’re in deep thought there. What plan are you cooking up, old friend?”

Vox practically toppled out of the chair, startled by the sudden voice so close to him. Able to reach out to grab onto the table to stabilize himself and prevent anything hitting the ground. The chatter around them died down instantly, and not from the new arrival. Instead having all attention on the awkwardly angled Media Demon.

On his part, Vox tried to slow his breathing as his eyes flicker up to Alastor. Who offered a gentle chuckle.

“Are we a little on edge?” The Radio Demon asked, head tilting.

“Ah, kind of…” Vox replied back weakly. Screen turned a slight pink as he tried to straighten himself quickly. Missing the way Alastor turned to the unwanted audience. Face twisting dangerously as a silent warning, to which everyone understood immediately and they turned back to their business.

Once standing, Vox straightened his jacket, cleared his throat, and gestured to the empty chair across the table with a, “Care to join me?”

“Well, you did invite me. It would be rude to refuse after getting here.” Propping his cane against the small table, Alastor easily flipped the end of his coat back as he sat down. Legs crossing as he fixed the other with a curious look. “Your letter seemed very adamant about us meeting. I’m so curious over what you’re wanting to talk about.”

The worry of how stupid he looked instantly disappeared. Original nerves returning to full force. Causing Vox to temporarily forget how speaking worked. His mouth opened and closed a few times with small noises falling out. Alastor just watched on with interest. Ears flickering as his smile softened.

Finally able to collect himself to some degree, Vox practically blurted out, “How about we order something first, yeah? It’s been a while since we’ve shared a meal together.”

“I wouldn’t say it was that long, it was only a little over a week ago. But if you insist on the matter.”

Vox gave an internal cheer as he was able to avert the conversation that he asked to have a little longer. The server clearly nervous as she waited on them, more than happy to pass their orders to leave them alone as quickly as possible.

“So,” Alastor started slowly as he finished his latest bite, “now would you feel comfortable with our discussion?”

“Uh…” Vox tapped his fork against the partially clear plate as his mind scrambled to figure out what to do.

“You idiot, you ASKED HIM TO COME! If you just say it was to just share a meal, then you’re going to piss him off. Just fucking talk to him! Just…rip it off like a band aid, yeah? Just…Just do it. Get it over with… Would you fucking say something!?”

“I wanted to talk business!” Vox and those in close proximity winced as harsh feedback sound. The Media Demon wincing again seeing how upset Alastor looked. Clearing his throat, Vox started again.

“Um, what I meant to say was… We’ve known each other for a while now, yeah?”

“A few centuries at this point, I would say.”

“And we work well together, yeah?”

“I…suppose so. I don’t believe we’ve worked together that often.”

Vox pouted a bit at that. “We’ve taken down a few competitors together.”

“Oh Picture Box, I’ve taken down far more without you. However, I will admit, having you there has been not only helpful, but extremely fun. I never thought burnt sinner meat would be so fun to watch being created.”

“But you…still like working with me.”

“Of course, never doubt that.”

Letting out a small cycle of relief, Vox nodded slightly. “Okay, so, since we work so well together-”

“As you’ve stated numerous times.” Alastor added as he took another bite.

“Right, just to emphasize my point really. Wouldn’t it make sense that we team up?”

The next bite was paused half way up to Alastor’s awaiting mouth. Hovering there for a few seconds before it was slowly lowered once more. While his smile never left, Vox could tell it wasn’t as ‘cheery’ as before. Appearing a bit tight now.

“Team…up… As in partners?”

“Yeah, partners!” Vox agreed quickly, heart hammering from fear. Because Alastor was not as calm as he had been when he’d arrived. Meaning the Radio Demon apparently did not like whatever Vox was selling and he had to make this work.

“Partners, business partners I mean, not like- Anyway, doesn’t that make sense? We’re powerful, even more so when we’re together. And we represent the two biggest forms of delivering information. Radio and television! If you think downing sinners is fun now, wait until we have that edge of knowing everyone’s business! Blackmailing will be so easy, which will result in more contracts, which will result in more power! So…what do you think?”

For the bravado Vox was putting out, he was shaking. His own smile strained as tries to better gauge Alastor’s emotions. The other customers nearby seemed to know the tense atmosphere as they were leaning away from their table. Some outright fled as they threw money on the table.

On his part, Alastor seemed unmoved. Smile small as he placed his utensils down and stared off into the distance. Hands clasped together as a finger tapped on the back of the other. As the minutes passed, the more hopeless Vox felt. Wanting to say something that could save this no doubt dying relationship, but didn’t know what he could say. Even worried that uttering a single noise would result in his head being popped off.

The torturous time ended when Alastor picked his fork back up to take another bite. “Is this just a business meeting, Vox?”

Said demon was a little off put by the question, “What…do you mean? What else would I be talking about?”

“I’ve never held a possible business meeting at a café before. Even more so, not one that’s my favorite.”

“Maybe…I wanted you to feel more welcomed to the idea?” Even Vox knew that was a stupid excuse. One that Alastor did not take.

“You’re also nervous in the wrong way.”

“There’s a right way to be nervous?”

“I’ve had offers before this,” Alastor continued, “Those individuals weren’t nervous, they were cocky. They held the same reasoning and logic as you brought up as to why I should join them. But they only became nervous when I said no. And then began to tear them and their workers apart. Still, nerves were not present on the forefront of the matter. You, however, have been a nervous wreck from before I even sat down.”

“Well…I’m probably a smaller business owner than those previous to me.”

“Do you think I would hurt you?”

“No… Yes? I-I can never tell with you, if I’m honest.”

“Nothing to be ashamed about. I do have that air of mystery about me. Will I kill you psychologically? Will I actually kill you? Who knows. But if I can calm your possible fears about that. No, I would never kill you.”

Vox’s heart skipped a beat in happiness. “Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie about that. So, if I’m going to be honest with you, why don’t you be honest with me? What’s the purpose of this little meeting Vox?”

Knowing he’d beck talked into a corner, the slouched position returned. Vox uncomfortably aware they were the center of attention still. Nervously clawing at the tabletop, he whispered out, “Are you…interested in going steady?”

“Pardon? I couldn’t quite hear you.” Alastor said with his full smile back, chin resting on his hand.

“Do you want to- Would you be interested in dating?”

Whelp, Vox really wanted to throw up at this point. Unable to look up as he awaited for some kind of answer. Maybe if he’s killed, he’ll be taken out fast enough to be out of this situation. Even be given a chance to reform in a quiet area so he could lick his wounds in a different way alone.

“I suppose if I were able to give anyone a chance, it should be you.”

Vox’s head snapped up at that. Wide eyes narrowed in on Alastor, who looked so at ease for what they were talking about. “Wait- really? You…You really want to… Really? But you’ve never shown interest in anything romantic to anyone, ever.”

“Because that would mean I found them interesting, and I don’t. Unlike you. You can hold my attention for hours, and I’ve not held that for another soul in years. If you’re wanting to pursue something of a relationship, then I’m more than happy to try.”

“Um, yes, please! That would be great!” Nerves were now replaced with giddiness to the point where Vox was worried he’d be shorting out soon. Something that Alastor caught on to very quickly.

“Try and breathe, my Picture Box, you’re going to make yourself faint.” Reaching over, Alastor gently took one of Vox’s hands.

Instead of helping, Vox’s head jerked to the side before the screen flickered and turned dark. Alastor was quick to react with his shadow double popping up to keep the other demon in the chair.

Laughing softly, Alastor turned to one of the cowering patrons. “He’s going to be the next Overlord. Such a charmer, this one.”

#s-creations #fanfiction #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox #voxal #alastor x vox #radiostatic #radiostatic week 2024

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odinsblog · 3 days

Note

You jew haters love a good token. Norm F or Masha or any white passing ashkie american jew who hasnt been to shul or a secular even in a decade... brb gonna cite thomas sowell and clarence thomas any time you bring up the hotep hasbara about "systemic racism" or ignore black on black crime is more prevalent then cops shooting unarmed trayvons. One day you might feel shame about going all in on jew hate. Probably not.

[re: this series of posts, or this one, or maybe this one?]

I don’t hate Jewish people. So jot that down and let’s get that straight, okay? I dO, however, hate what the state of Israel, Likud and Benjamin Netanyahu are doing (and have been doing for decades) to Palestinians

Note: Jewish people are Jewish whether they’re religious Jews who have been to a synagogue, or not. Non-religious, non-observant Jewish people are still Jewish people. Intentionally conflating “religious Jews” with all Jewish people is antisemitic

And another note: conflating Israel with all Jewish people is also antisemitic, so let’s not do that either, cool?

We could quibble about “white passing” Jewish people, but there most definitely are Jewish people who self-identify as white (just as there are Jewish people who self-identify as Black), but ultimately, I believe that this “argument” is a red-herring, and ultimately, secondary or even tertiary to what’s happening in Palestine

I know you think you’ve made some kind of “gotcha” point, but you really haven’t

We can easily dismantle Clarence Thomas and his hypocritical conservative, anti-Black SCOTUS rulings without ever once mentioning his race. We can prove that structural racism is a real thing simply by looking at lived reality and history. We can show that Black-on-Black crime is roughly the same as white-on-white crime, and is only invoked as a derailment tactic to take the focus away from anti-Black racism. Simple statistics and observations prove that the police routinely Stop-and-Frisk and execute more Black and Brown people than white people, usually without the same consequences that would occur if their victims were white

And we can very easily do the same thing with everything that Israel has been doing to Palestinians for decades; we can look at the definition of war crimes and objectively understand that Israel has been committing war crimes against Palestinians since before October 7th, and we can see that Israel’s reaction to October 7th has been the definition of “disproportionate,” and has been since 1948

And before I continue, I really want to make something clear: you can agree with someone on 80% of what they believe, and vehemently disagree with them in other areas that are not their area of expertise. No one is right about everything, and no one is wrong about everything—even broken clocks are accurate two times a day, right?

Moving on…

Look, there was a time when I used to think as simplistically as you do, anon. As you’ve correctly noted, I am Black, and there was a time when I used to believe that anyone who criticized Barack Obama, for example, was a racist, and if they were Black, then they were a Black person who had internalized anti-Blackness. It was a very insular way of thinking, but it kept me safe in a mental bubble of my own making. A bubble where, as long as I called people racists or self hating Black people, I was always right in my thinking and never had to challenge myself

But then, eventually, something wonderful happened. This thing called nuance happened and I learned that many things could simultaneously be true: yes, there absolutely positively are self-hating Black people like Clarence Thomas; and yes, there are people like Trump who only criticized Obama simply because he was Black and because they were racist white people (or frequently, NBPoC); but the existence of those racists do not magically invalidate all legitimate criticisms of Obama

So I learned how to do two things that proved invaluable: 1) look at the specific critiques, and separate the critiques, and evaluate the critiques on their own, 2) look at the source of the critiques, and their history of criticisms, and evaluate how fairly they applied those exact same critiques to others who were doing the same or similar things. Talk about cutting through all the bullshit!

So I learned that it was possible to be living in the real world that simultaneously had: white supremacists + self-hating Black people + people with legitimate grievances against Obama

You can (and should) apply this same line of reasoning with Hillary Clinton; yes, there definitely are misogynistic people who hate her simply because she is a woman, but that doesn’t nullify the criticisms of those people who have problems with her strictly because of her deeply conservative values

Anon, is Bernie Sanders a token self-hating Jew if he doesn’t side with YOU? (hint: he isn’t and he doesn’t)

Think about what you’re implying anon. You’re saying that Israel has never been wrong? About anything? And consequently, all Zionist Jewish people are right and anyone who disagrees with them is automatically antisemitic and hates all Jewish people?

Does that even sound right to you anon?

That’s a very comforting, if not somewhat mentally lazy, self-serving view of the world. One that doesn’t require any additional thought or self-reflection (or growth, tbh) on your part. It’s an adolescent version of reality

What we are talking about here, anon, is weaponized identity politics

anyone who disagrees with my good Black person is racist

anyone who disagrees with my good female is misogynistic

anyone who disagrees with my good Jew is antisemitic

This type of logic really makes “winning” arguments super easy, for people who don’t have any real arguments to defend their ideology

#anon #ask #answered #palestine #israel #weaponized antisemitism #weaponized zionism #weaponized identity politics #idpol #war crimes

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moistvonlipwig · 2 days

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9 10 16 please? :D (cwsg, i’m sorry)

aye aye cap'n 🫡 under the cut for length

9. worst part of canon

I think it has to be Mon-El, who is so very terrible that even now he is stealing my ability to kvetch about other things. ...Luckily, this is my blog, so I can do what I want. So the other worst part of canon was the demonization and eventual murder of Manchester Black at J'onn's hands in the same season that saw James cozying up to the Children of Liberty (WHY) and the Superfriends insisting that killing them (the neo-Nazi analogues), even to prevent them from killing their marginalized alien targets, was Wrong and Bad.

(Crisis on Earth-X was pretty bad, too. Not sure how it didn't occur to any of the higher-ups that putting their heroes in Nazi uniforms in order to make them ~Cool Villains~ was maybe kind of a super fucking antisemitic thing to do.)

10. worst part of fanon

I was sorely tempted to just answer this with "el problema es el racismo," but thinking on it further that is technically the worst part of fandom, whereas fanon is generally understood to mean (a) post-colonial Marxist philosopher Frantz Fanon or (b) fan-constructed canon, i.e. headcanons that have become popular and widely accepted by many people in a fandom (sometimes to the point where people mistakenly believe that these headcanons are canon). I've already talked about my problems with the "Kara is a genius"/"Krypton is Advanced™ and Earth is Primitive™" take, as well as the "Lena never really cared about James" take; other popular fanon ideas I can't stand include "Clark is an asshole" (no >:( I like Clark), "J'onn is Alex and Kara's space dad" (citation needed), and "Eliza Danvers is the best mom ever" (when, lest we forget, Alex's whole Deal is a direct result of her Not being the best mom ever lol). Um...there's probably more but to be honest I'm blanking on what they would be.

16. you can’t understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Hm, well, I could talk about general fanfic tropes I don't get but I prefer to stay fandom-specific in order to maximize damage from my biting and maiming. So I'll just expand on what I commented on your earlier post: I don't understand the appeal of the trope where Kara shows Lena Disney movies or imparts upon her the True Meaning of Christmas and thus transforms her life from one of forever sadness to one of joyful bliss. I'm not saying I don't like fics where Kara's presence in Lena's life improves her life -- ideally, I would imagine that both of them improve each other's lives. But the specific trope of "OMG, Lena had an abnormally wealthy and abusive childhood and thus has never done [normative thing for American (Christian) children to do that there is no canon evidence she hasn't done and also that is not necessary for healthy childhood psychological development], we must rectify this immediately!!!" baffles me.

#just once i would like to read a fanfic where a character who loves christmas or disney movies #comes across a character who hates the holidays or has never seen disney movies #and then through their love and friendship the first character learns to hate christmas and disney too <3 love wins #sideguitars #up up and away

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