#also my first lever post

[buzzingboobees]

My very first MERMAY art!!! That I finished anyway. She’s based off a chocolate chip starfish!!

[coquelicoq]

hugo's sentence structure is so much easier on me than that of dumas. sure he will also include behemoths that make me forget what we were talking about by the time i get to the period, but usually those are just lists. in the first 80 pages i've only noticed one OVS subordinate clause (and it was very short). this comes as a pleasant surprise, because the author's note on the very first page of the book is the following single sentence:

Tant qu'il existera, par le fait des lois et des moeurs, une damnation sociale créant artificiellement, en pleine civilisation, des enfers, et compliquant d'une fatalité humaine la destinée qui est divine ; tant que les trois problèmes du siècle, la dégradation de l'homme par le prolétariat, la déchéance de la femme par la faim, l'atrophie de l'enfant par la nuit, ne seront pas résolus ; tant que, dans de certaines régions, l'asphyxie sociale sera possible ; en d'autres termes, et à un point de vue plus étendu encore, tant qu'il y aura sur la terre ignorance et misère, des livres de la nature de celui-ci pourront ne pas être inutiles.

bit of a mouthful.

[bragganhyl]

so uhhh just to check, Tav's "can't live without you" (or something like that) help line is romance specific right?

if so Berci has some explaining to do lmao

[calthinez]

Pie kinda guy

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean loves all pies. He loves apple pie on festive holidays like thanksgiving, and cherry pie in the summer. But Deans all time favorite pie... is cream pie ;)

A/N: Have you guys watched 'The boys'? I think it's so weird watching Jensen play Soldier boy after watching him play Dean for so long. Also, I have no idea if somebody came up with this idea before me. If there has been a post like this before, let me know. I hope you guys enjoy this <3 This could also be summarized as "a collection of times Dean has nutted in you" but I think my wordplay is much more fun.

Warnings: smut (obvi) creampie, fingering, quickeys, unprotected sex,

The first of many times is when you and Dean are at the bunker alone. Neither of you felt like going out into town to shop for groceries, so you both volunteered Sam to go out.

After seeing Sam out, you and Dean ventured into the 'dean cave' to watch some stupid hospital drama show about sexy doctors. "What's your deal, huh? What did Dr. Sexy ever do to you?" Dean asked you, accusatively. You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior, the both of you walking to the two-seater lazy boy couches. This show was Deans ride-or-die, and Chuck forbid anybody had anything negative to say about it.

You sat down in the seat next to him with your blanket and curled your legs into your body while Dean pulled the lever to recline his seat back. "Nothing, I shouldn't have said anything." You knew Dean would die defending the honor of this show, and you really didn't want to go back and forth with him. "Mhm yeah." He's being smug now. Smug because he knows you'll stay and watch his doctor show, even though you think its stupid.

Not even ten minutes into the show you're bored out of your mind. If you were to make a list of 100 things you could do with Dean to occupy your time, this show would be at the bottom of the list. After a while of daydreaming of all your could-be activities, you come up with a devious plan.

"I'm cold." You whine to Dean, scootching and snuggling up close to him. He coos at you as he slings his arm around your back, his hand resting just above your ass. "Well, I'll warm you right up, sweetheart."

He was completely oblivious to your plans.

A few minutes later and you start resting your hand on his upper-thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. He doesn't say anything about it though, thinking maybe that's just where you hand coincidentally landed. Towards the halfway mark of the episode, you move your hand from his thigh to directly on his groin. He looks at you with a devious glint in his eyes. "Watcha doing there, Y/N." You smirk and don't respond, instead, you gently squeeze his cock through his jeans.

Dean is now completely ignoring the show playing on the TV. He's got you on his lap. your legs straddling his thighs. Both of your pants long discarded. He's kissing you so fast and forcefully you think your lips might bruise.

You slide your hand up and down his bare chest a few times before you finally reach down to his ignored cock. You wrap your hand around the head of his cock. Softly dragging your thumb to collect the precum you start to pump his shaft.

Dean has always been vocal when it comes to having sex with you. Anytime you fuck or you suck his sock he's always moaning like a whore. Hell, even when he eats you out its like its just as enjoyable for him as it is for you.

This time is no exception, he's moaning into your mouth through kisses. "I want- I want to be inside of you." He says in-between kisses.

You smile against his lips and nod your head. Dean pushes your panties to the side as you hoist yourself up with the help of his shoulders. After positioning his cock into the enterance of your pussy you sink down, letting out a high-pitched mewl into his open mouth.

"Thats it.. that's it, pretty" Dean encourages you as you're getting adjusted to the stretch of his large cock. You take him balls deep, the burn from the stretch is familiar and welcomed.

One of Deans hands rests on your hip, the other makes its way to your clit to rub fast tight circles. You moan into his mouth as the heat creeps its way into your belly. "You're drenching my cock, sweetheart." He mumbles into your ear, his gruff voice sending shivers down your spine.

You can feel your orgasm quickly approaching. "You close, Y/N? I'm close." Dean moans. You known neither of you are going to last much longer. You lay your head onto his shoulder, no longer holding in your moans. "I'm gonna cum- can I cum in you, sweetheart, please?" He begs as he erratically kisses your jaw and neck.

You nod your head and squeak out a few 'yes's. Deans movements quicken as he hums sweet praises into your ear. The tight coil in your belly abruptly snaps, you cum hard around Deans cock. He isn't long after you. He releases into you, the both of you now panting from your orgasm.

*

The next time is at one of the dingy motels during a hunt. It was definitely more risky than before. You Sam and Dean all decided to share one motel room. The three of you drawing straws to see who would have to sleep on the crusty couch.

In the middle of the night, while Sam is fast asleep, Dean comes to your bed. "Bathroom quicky?" He asks you in a hushed tone. Dean smirks when you nod your head and follow him to the bathroom.

He shuts the door and you hop up on the sink. Dean stands in-between your legs. "We cant be loud, Dean," you tell him. "What? I'm never loud." He lies to you. You shake your head and lightly laugh at him, "Mhm, yeah." You say to him just before he kisses you.

You've been hunting with the boys for maybe two and a half years, sleeping with Dean for a year. Never once have you guys had sex in the same "room" as Sam, you always thought it was too risky. Dean was definitely getting more needy for you. He even lets you sit up front in Baby with him.

You dont have the chance to think too much more about the nature of your relationship with him because soon enough Deans hands roughly grab at your boobs over your shirt. The kiss is messy, also. Tongues meeting together in a slobbery mess. The hand not occupied by groping you is wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his body. You can feel his hard-on through his pajama pants, staining against the fabric.

Dean abruptly stops kissing you for only a moment to pull both your pants and panties from your body, letting them fall to the floor. "You're so wet already." Dean praises to you as he feels you with his middle finger. "Do I make you like this?" He teases, his middle finger slowly circling over your clit. You eagerly nod your head.

"Just fuck me already, Dean." You're sick of his teasing and want to feel him already. He smirks and drops his pants. He sets one of his hands on your thigh and the other grips the base of his cock to pump it a few times. He lines himself up with the entrance of your pussy and teasingly slowly bottoms out. Dean grabs your jaw and brings your face to his to kiss you again.

Its an awkward position to be fucking in but you don't really care, with his cock inside of you and his thumb circling your clit you don't focus on the face that your ass is going slightly numb from sitting on the resin top. Trying to be as quiet and as quick as possible Dean starts pounding into you.

The only sound coming from the small bathroom was both of your held-in moans and exasperated breathing along with the wet sloppy sounds of skin meeting skin. You were sure that is Sam woke up he would her you, you hoped he was still passed out on the bed. Because that would be very awkward for all three of you.

Soon enough you feel the familiar tightness in your belly. You're sure Dean feels it too, with his stuttering hips and his jumpy breathing. "You wanna cum with me?" He asks in your ear. You nod and pull him back into a kiss. He rubs circles on your clit faster, bringing you closer to cumming.

It all suddenly snaps, the coil in your belly shatters and your legs shake around Deans waist. Dean cums not even a second after you, the squeeze from your orgasm brought him to his. He cums inside of you and he stays inside for a few moments. Collecting himself.

He kisses you on the mouth as he pulls out of you and pulls his pants back up. "I think I'm gonna shower." You say softly, breaking the silence. Dean smirks. "Without me?"

* Yet another time is in the back seat of Baby. You were honestly shocked when he brought it up to you. You never thought he'd ask you to get back seat freaky in Baby, that's his- well- baby.

He was on top of you, your legs were wrapped around his waist as he pumped into you in a slow speed. His mouth is on your tits, his tongue flicking over your nipples. The sensation was fueling the fire in your belly. The car windows actually started to fog from the released breaths of you too.

This time was much more drawn out. You guessed he was making up for the quicky that took place just a few days prior. He moves his head to your other breast to lick that one and massage the one he just had his mouth using his free hand.

Your moans are much louder than before, there isn't anything around where Dean parked the car. He kisses his way up to your lips from your chest, paying special attention to your collarbone to suck a light hickey onto your skin. Your nails scrape against the skin of his back.

Once he gets to your lips he speeds his pace up. Both of your mouths melting together. You whine into his mouth.

"There you go, sweetheart." he says as you grind your hips up to meet him mid thrust.

His hand reaches down in-between your bodies to rub circles on your clit. You feel the fire in your belly once again. Dean kisses you like he's a dying man, licking and nipping at your bottom lip.

The both of your bodies are slowly moving in sync. Your hand traces up his bicep to hold onto him. You squeeze his right bicep and he flexes his muscle against your hand. His scruffy cheeks tickle your face. All of these sensations are like a drug to you, you cannot get enough of Dean Winchester.

You cum first this time. It takes Dean a little while longer, desperate to make you finish first. He moans into your mouth when he finishes. Singing you quiet praises. He pulls out of you and he takes a moment to look as his cum seeps out of your pussy.

Dean pinches your cheek after he helps you clean up the mess between your legs. "You ready to head back?"

[mpileons]

behind the goal posts | alexia putellas x reader

> chapter two

A/N: this is the first fic ive written in a while so bare w/ me as i get back into the motion of writing :) also construction criticism & suggestions are always welcome <3

+ this going to be a multi chapter story, please patient w me and ill try to make it worth your while :,)

—

Summary: Everyone knows Alexia Putellas. Star football player and the face of Barcelona. However, what they don’t know is that she is been in a secret relationship for years, and that relationship is slowly slipping out of her hands.

Word Count: 1.9K

Chapter 1

A Year Ago —

It all started on a regular Wednesday, I was getting ready for my morning shift at Lever & Bloom. It was all very normal, I woke up extremely late as per usual, and had to rush out of my apartment complex without doing my hair or my makeup which was once again, per usual.

As 10am hit, I was getting into the motion of making drinks and chatting with customers. Although being a barista is quite a mundane job, I thoroughly enjoy every part of it, especially talking with the regulars and forming those relationships that never fail to bring a smile to my face. As I went to take my break, I saw a distinct blonde head of hair enter the cafe premises. Everytime she enters the cafe (which is very often) my intrigue seems to rise more and more. She seems to always come in at 11 on the dot, every weekday. Not that I’m keeping track or anything. Definitely not. Conveniently, as she goes to the counter I decide to save my break for later. Definitely not anything to do with her.

"One large ic-" The tall blonde starts to speak, but I'm quick to interrupt her. "A large iced americano with an extra shot of espresso, I know, it's coming right up," I say, a small smile creeping onto my face. I turn to see the same expression reflected on her face, a shared moment of understanding passing between us.

For some reason, I feel an impulse I can't ignore. With nervous yet hopeful determination, I grab a napkin and hastily scrawl down my number along with her order. With trembling hands, I slide the napkin across the counter, our fingers brushing for a fleeting moment, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"Thanks," she murmurs, her voice soft and tinged with warmth as she takes the napkin. I watch her as she takes a seat by the window, her eyes fixed on her phone as she waits for her drink.

My heart starts to pound in my chest, anticipation mingling with apprehension. What if she doesn't text? What if I completely misread everything?

I push all the thoughts out of my head as I prepare her iced americano, my hands tremble slightly, betraying the calm facade I try to maintain around her. When it's ready, I take a deep breath and walk over to her table, setting the drink down with a shaky hand.

"Here you go," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping she can't hear the rapid thumping of my heart that I'm sure is about to explode.

"Thanks again," she replies, flashing me a dazzling smile that sets my heart aflutter. And then, to my surprise and delight, she adds, "By the way, I'm Alexia."

The sound of her name sends a shiver down my spine, and I can't help but return the gesture. "Nice to meet you, Alexia. I'm Y/N," I say, hoping she can't hear the increasingly rapid thumping of my heart.

We exchange a few more words before I have to return to my duties behind the counter, but her presence lingers in my mind long after she leaves. And as the days turn into weeks and then months, we start to form somewhat of a routine that consists of Alexia coming to get coffee every weekday morning, some light-hearted flirting, then I constantly think about her until I see her the next day.

Present Day –

The soft chime of the café's door announces Alexia's arrival, as it does every weekday morning. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her, as it usually does, alongside a familiar pang of longing mixed with resentment tightening in my chest. I watch as Alexia approaches the counter, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

"Hey, Y/N," Alexia greets, her voice warm and inviting.

"Hey," my tone lacking its usual warmth. I start to busy myself with preparing Alexia's usual order, my movements stiff and mechanical. Whether Alexia is paying attention to these details or not is completely lost on me.

As I hand Alexia the cup, our fingers almost touch but Alexia pulls away quickly, further spiralling my conflicting emotions.

"Thanks," Alexia says with a tight smile.

I somehow manage to force a smile in return, but it feels hollow, fake. As Alexia takes her usual seat by the window, her attention is focused on her phone. The sight stirs a flicker of jealousy within me, a bitter unwanted reminder of the countless admirers vying for Alexia's attention.

The minutes tick by, each one stretching out into what seems like an eternity as I try to manage my emotions. I want to reach out to Alexia, to tell her how I am truly feeling, but the words stay stuck in my throat, still suffocated by the weight of the secret I have no choice but to keep.

As Alexia finishes her drink and prepares to leave, my resolve quickly crumbles. "Alexia, wait," I blurted out, cringing at how my voice is tinged with obvious desperation.

Alexia turns to me, concern flashing in her eyes. "Is everything okay babe?"

I start to hesitate, my heart pounding like an alarm in my chest. I try to open my mouth to speak, but the words elude me.

"Never mind," I murmur, forcing a weak smile. "Just... take care, okay?"

Alexia's brow furrows in confusion, but she nods, concern etched into her features. "You too, Y/N."

As Alexia leaves the café, I am left alone with my thoughts, the weight of secrecy pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. I begin to wonder how much longer I can keep up the charade, how much longer I can pretend that everything is okay when it's anything but.

I return back to the counter with my heart pounding like a drum inside my chest and my thoughts racing. As the day drags on and my return back to Alexia and I’s shared apartment is approaching, I know something has to change. The weight of secrecy was slowly crushing me and if this goes on any longer, I do not know how much there will be left of our relationship to salvage, or if there will be anything left to salvage. Whether I had the courage to confront this and risk the comfort we had built is another story.

10 Months Ago —

My phone flashes with a message as I am sitting at my desk pouring over textbooks.

Alexia: Be ready at 6, dress comfortably.

As I went to respond, I couldn't hide the bright grin growing on my face. Ever since that day two months ago, Alexia and I had been texting nonstop, talking about anything, everything and all that's in between. I couldn't help but feel as if the universe had dropped a gift into my lap. Alexia was unbelievably attentive and rather charming, further adding to my ever growing feelings for her. As we kept talking nonstop, we found that we were completely different. She's a professional footballer, I do not know a singular thing about football. I study film with a minor in astronomy, she is not very well versed in either of those. However, we are similar in every aspect that matters. Although I couldn't shake the feeling that this was all too good to be true, she is undeniably attractive, charming, funny, the list goes on and on. Why would she settle for an overworked university student with a mundane part time job?

I push all those thoughts away for later as I start to get ready, considering this will be our first date, if it even is a date. I needed to be prepared, but not too prepared.

Hours pass and I am now in Alexia's car as music softly plays from the console and her hand is lightly resting on my thigh, as if it was always meant to be there.

“Pretty pleasee just tell me where we’re going” I turn to her with the biggest puppy dog eyes, which seem to not work as she just chuckles and shakes her head. “We’re almost there, just a little patience baby” She murmurs and kisses my hand as a way of apologising.

Alexia starts to put the car into park and quickly leaves the car to open my door, ever the gentlewoman. She intertwines her hand with mine as she leads me into a very familiar building. “Uhm Alexia, why are we at the astronomy club?” I look to her with a very confused frown as she looks to me with the softest smile that completely melts my heart, “I got us tickets to a private rooftop stargazing event hosted by a local astronomy club” She speaks with excitement lacing every word, she couldn't even get the words out before I jump into her arms and squeeze her into the tightest hug known to man as a way to try show a glimmer of the feelings taking over my heart due to her unexpected attentiveness. She just smiles at me and gently kisses my forehead as if I am the softest thing in the world, I think I will just melt into a puddle of gush right then and there because of all her actions.

She once again takes my hand as we ascend the stairs to the rooftop, my heart races with excitement and anticipation. The night sky stretches out above creating a vast canvas of twinkling stars and constellations.

Upon reaching the rooftop, we’re greeted by a cosy setup complete with blankets, pillows, and telescopes. Soft music plays in the background, a realisation hits me suddenly. This is the song that was playing when I gave Alexia my number two months ago. The pure amount of consideration, care and thought that Alexia put into this date is making my eyes water, Alexia takes notice of this and immediately comes to engulf me with a hug as she lightly peppers kisses on my head. How did I get so lucky?

She starts to lead me, according to her, to the prime stargazing spot. She snakes her hands around my waist as her chin rests in the crook between my shoulder and neck while I peer through the telescope. “Alexia, you need to see this!” I excitedly tell her but to my surprise she shakes her head “I’d rather stay here with you” I turn to her with the biggest grin as I kiss her cheek and tell her various stories about all the constellations.

As the night wears on, we find ourselves lost in each other's company, our laughter mingling with the soft strains of music and the rustle of the night. With each passing moment, my heart swells more and more with a sense of warmth and belonging, a feeling I had never imagined I could find in another person.

And as the night starts to draw to a close, Alexia leans in, her movements slow and deliberate, as if savouring every moment leading up to the kiss. As I was thinking that the anticipation was going to be the death of me, I felt the warmth of Alexia's breath against my skin as our lips meet in a tender embrace, the world falling away, leaving only the sensation of Alexia's lips against mine, incredibly soft and inviting. My fingers instinctively tangle in Alexia's hair, pulling her as close to me as humanly possible. In that fleeting moment, everything feels right in the world.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Kaz and Wylan’s potential to become each other

Wow, you guys were a lot more excited about this than I was expecting! I made a post briefly mentioning this idea and it got way more attention that I was expecting, so as promised here is my explanation and I’ve tagged people who asked for it at the end :)

*WARNING: CONSTANT SPOILERS AHEAD*

Ok so the driving forcing of this comparison is rooted in the similarities of their characters and their backstories. Both of them lost a close family member, were abused by men with power over them, and experienced a form of ‘rebirth’ by nearly drowning in the Ketterdam canals. They also both experience disability; Kaz using a cane for a broken leg that didn’t heal correctly, and Wylan having severe dyslexia that prevented him from learning to read. A key difference that separates them, and arguably is a representation of the difference in the way their experiences have shaped their personalities as well, is that Kaz’s disability is a direct result of his chasing after vengeance, whereas Wylan’s disability was used as an excuse for his father to abuse him for what we as the reader see to be a minimum of eight years. (I’m assuming this because he is 16 in the book and was 8 when his mother ‘died’, which is the point that he describes he father to have “given up on him”)

I’m gonna quickly hop to parallels between Kaz and Pekka Rollins, bare with me I promise it’s relevant, which are quickly established as a key part of the novels. When Inej compares them, Kaz’s reply is “I don’t sell girls, I don’t con helpless kids out of their money” to which she gently responds “look at the floor of the Crow Club, Kaz”. Aside from this being the heartbreaking line that it is, it also does a very good job of highlighting their similarities and a similarity that they share with Jan Van Eck. When they meet the merch at the end of the first book they meet on an island called Vellgeluk, which is described as being popular with smugglers and slavers like those who kidnapped Inej. The other Crows are surprised Van Eck knows about Vellgeluk, but Kaz simply says “maybe he isn’t the upstanding merch he appears to be”. Great subtle foreshadowing for his double cross, and great establishment of the link between these three characters. In fact, Van Eck and Kaz echo each other more than you might think. Just as Kaz states “Greed bows to me, it is my servant and my lever”, Van Eck says “Yes, Chaos will come. And I will be it’s master”. In their first meeting, Van Eck accuses Kaz of murder and gambling with people’s lives, and in return Kaz points out that 1 in 5 of Van Eck’s ships will never return because they will sink or “fall prey to pirates”, so they are both doing the same thing, and that they both have the same motivations for this bloodshed: “profit”.

Now consider how often Wylan echoes Kaz, and therefore whether he echoes his father as well. They both have exceptional memories, Kaz’s being photographic/eidetic and Wylan being able to put words to music in his head to remember pages worth of infomation - this is even emphasised by Kaz being able to count cards when he gambles, saying “he could keep track of the game for up to three decks” and Jesper asking Wylan if he’d be able to apply “that trick to counting cards” to which he replies “probably. But I won’t”. They also both have impressive intellects, which could have placed them far higher up in the world than they’ve found themselves if it weren’t for cruel circumstances - Van Eck even comments on this, saying it angers him that Kaz has so much potential but does nothing with it. Then there’s their tendency to avoid being vulnerable. I think we too often overlook the fact that no-one knows Jan Van Eck hired two men to kill his son, not even Jesper, and that not even Inej knows what happened to Kaz on the Reaper’s Barge. Jesper believes that Wylan left his house as a result of his father’s abuse but that it was still his choice, and Inej has no information beyond “Pekka Rollins killed my brother” and the explanation of the con when Kaz faces off with Rollins in Crooked Kingdom. I genuinely believe that the biggest thing separating them is where they place blame for their situations. Kaz blames Pekka Rollins. Wylan actually blames himself.

Arguably, although he catalysed the events, if Rollins hadn’t conned Kaz and Jordie they still would have suffered in an almost identical way: they would both contract the Queen’s Lady Plague, they wouldn’t have enough money for both medicine and boarding, and Jordie would die. In that scenario Kaz would have still been left penniless and alone with nowhere to go, but he wouldn’t have had anyone to blame. In fact, he may have died as well because it’s really his drive for vengeance that makes him strive for survival. When he’s on the Reaper’s Barge he wonders if it’s worth trying to survive because there’s nothing waiting for him in the city, but then he realises that the chance of revenge is waiting for him, and that thought drives him to stay alive every day that follows. Without Rollins, Kaz probably would have blamed himself for Jordie’s death, and I’m backing that up with the singular moment when he’s first attacked by parem-high tide makers and has a brief “boy’s fear” that they are ghosts. He thinks, for a split second, that a ghost has come to kill him and what does he say? He says “Jordie had come for vengeance at last”. This is chapter three. We have no idea who Jordie is. With the limited information we had at the time and what we’d just seen happen to Big Bolliger, I assumed it was someone in Kaz’s gang that he had backstabbed and who has died because of what he did. But no. This single line leads me to wholeheartedly believe that Kaz blames Rollins, who realistically was only a small part of his suffering, quite so vividly to emotionally avoid blaming himself.

Wylan blames himself until around chapters 14 to 16 of Crooked Kingdom. His experiences with mental, emotional, and physical abuse have actively convinced him that his so-called ‘inadequacies’ caused a change in his father’s behaviour. But Wylan not being able to read didn’t magically turn Van Eck from a lucky family man into someone willing to try “specialists, tonics, beatings, [and] hypnotism” against his child. The fact is that Van Eck, like many abusers, is masterfully manipulative in everything he does. Wylan describes seeing his parents’ marriage as a happy one, but he also says “the argued all the time, sometimes about me. But I remember them laughing a lot too”. He’s quick to defend their relationship as if it isn’t supposed to be marred by argument and he lays blame on himself by suggesting that he was the root of their unhappiness. He also says that around Alys, Jan Van Eck becomes who he once was around Marya; a kinder, gentler man. I don’t think we’re meant to assume that he’s acting any differently with Alys in private right now, but I do think we’re meant to assume that he would have done down the line if he hadn’t been arrested (and presumably she filed for divorce). In chapter 14 of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan learns that his mother is still alive but that his father had her committed and declared insane so he could use it as grounds for divorce and marry Alys instead. And you know what happens? Wylan blames himself. He says, verbatim, to Jesper: “You don’t understand. It’s my fault”. He explains that Van Eck did this so he could have a “real heir”; because Marya produced a “faulty” child he needed a new woman to give him the child he wanted. That’s a messed up thing to think on so many levels, but Wylan doesn’t blame Van Eck because he is still being conditioned by his abuse. He and Kaz experienced different kinds of abuse, and Kaz wasn’t conditioned to blame anyone but his abuser, so that’s what he does. When Wylan does begin to blame Van Eck, he is immediately taken in by this same idea of revenge. Kaz says “you were angry. I needed you righteous” when explaining why he sent Wylan to St Hilde blind in chapter 16. Wylan was angry with his father before, but he wasn’t actively seeking vengeance. Now that he has a cause, someone other than himself to fight for? He tells Kaz “well, now you have me”.

Both of them have this potential to be fuelled by revenge or self-hatred, and although they go about it in different ways and lean towards different sides of the scale they are both balancing between those two extremes for the entire duology. Their past experiences have, and their future experiences could, tip them further either way but right now they are almost playing with the line.

Thank you so much if you’ve bothered to read this far, sorry for the long post but you did ask for an essay, so there you go. Tagging the people who asked - @kazooyay @mikasimaginairyworld @sunseeking-cyptid @moonlit-aura @alexplutoplanet @gandalfsmallnaturals @livsarthaven @goodomenstrack23 @origami-butterfly @flower-biatch @bookworm010307 @thesunniest @wherela @space-ace-thoughts @sixofbabycrows @antisocial-burrito

Sorry if I missed anyone!!!

[captainwholecake]

Hello!! 🏵️ How are you? And how areyou guys dealing with the heat?? I'm from France and here it's finally a bit cold so I can say that we're good for now 👀 Could I please request a headcanon for Zoro, Law and Ace if you don't mind? (separately) About how they would react to a small sized fem!reader?? With like the cute moments AND the feisty HORNY! ones 👀?? Thank you! (If you don't feel comfortable doing fem s/o i don't mind gn 👌😊)

A/n: I got this so late its almost winter here but the heat was fine and I’m going to try going the fem route but I’ll still add some gn elements so my enby, masc, queerfluid homies, and anyone else who isn’t fem can enjoy this

enjoy the long comeback post homies! ;)

Warnings: Look me in the eyes and tell all three of these mf don’t have some type of size kink / praise kink … anyways, nsfw because of horniness

——

Roronoa Zoro

* Wano Zoro is fire btw

anyways, the praise kink size kink middle ground

Law has a gaint size kink and Ace has a praise kink no more context is needed

Okay, lets not go on about the horniness first

I think he would be fine with it

Would ABSOLUTELY love getting shit off shelves and shit for his s/o but definitely acts like he doesn’t

Like some Tsudere bs

why do I feel like hed head pat them a lot

Its his love language ????

I imagined him snickering after he makes fun of his s/o being short and they make a angry face

whatelse sfw stuff do I want to say??

Imagining he would like to pick his s/o a lot

Bridal style, like a sack of potatoes, literally anything

ITS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE x2

He’d also give his s/o piggyback rides/let them sit on his shoulders whenever the crew is exploring and shit

Anyways, enough sfw

Like said on top the middle ground

He’d be in his s/o struggling take him

He’d coo at them about how adorable they look

LOVESSSS putting his s/o legs on his shoulders

(COUGH) also the mating press (COUGH)

you know that scene in the love equation where adam somehow puts olives whole breast in his mouth ??? Why do I think Zoro would try to do that ???

Face sititing??? yessir

loves his s/o being on top time to time

Okay, so I forgot about the praise kink part. i should clarify that the praise kink goes with the cooing and a lil of the heart pats

He’d see them struggling and go like “aw look at you taking like that, good baby” “sweetheart you’re taking me so well” type of way

Trafalgar Law

Have I used this gif before? I feel like I have but oh well

HES THE KINKIEST MF ON THE PLANET IN THE WHOLE ANIME MEN TELL ME I’M WRONG

ANYWAYS, ANYWAYS

Okay, so I feel having a small s/o for him would just him melting

Also having turn on a maternal instinct whenever their not in his slight

Penguin and Saichi going “uhh I think their with bepo” and Law loses it

He knows they can’t fight for themselves and all but also knows that they think their Chihuahua whose bigger then they’re actually are

anjssjejejw i’m so soft imagining how soft he would be

I feel he’d lean down sometimes to be at eye level them

so many forehead kisses

I have feel like all the important stuff on sleeves are low lever bc you its a submarine and all

but if they weren’t oh he make sure they were just for them

Can I say he would be OBSESSE with his s/o sitting in his lap?

Like he’s doing doctor shit late at night and his s/o has their head tucked into his neck 🥺🥺

To the whore bs

He’s probably the most into it when its comes nsfw activities

He’s SOOO into the size difference

Loves having his s/o suck on his fingers bc how big they are compared to his s/os mouth

Especially his thumb. Theres something about his hand cradling their jaw that gets him

Law would be one of those headpusher types but only do it when he knows the other person is okay with it (consent king)

He also loves the sound his s/o gagging bc their struggling to take him in their mouth (which is why he’s specifically a headpusher he makes them gag on purpose)

Strong would try use his devil fruit power in the bedroom energy

idk he takes their head off to show them exactly how small they are compared to him

Portgas D. Ace

I LOVE HIM OMG HES SO PRECIOUS WHY DID ODA KILL HIM (why does it look like he lit a blunt on fire in this gif)

Okay, the loml next

This teasing bitch

Would put stuff on the higher shelves so they have to ask for help

walks into the kitchen in shock and disappointment when he sees his s/o has climbed on the counter to get thing they need

pouts literally pouts when they don’t ask for his help to get stuff

THE WAY he wants one those cliche moments of ‘person a’ needs something high up but can’t get it so ‘person b’ surprises them by with warning getting said thing for them BUT CAN NEVER GET IT

Loves to carry is s/o around like zoro only difference for him is its need not a want

Will put his hat on them for the sole purpose of it making them look smaller by it going over their eyes

He also thinks they look good with it on

He loves when his s/o basically sleeps on top of him

You know sharing body heat (mf is made of fire)

Really likes to dip his head down when kissing his s/o and goes feral when it leads to him picking his s/o up and being at the same height

I’m getting to the whore shit now

Another thing with the hat, he absolutely LOVES it be on his s/o when their riding him

Praises galore

Always talking about how pretty his s/o and how well they take him

5 bucks says half of those praises are whimpers and whines

Can’t take his hands off their thighs (his hands are so oh big compared their legs)

Has to have their ankles on his shoulder

can not have his head in his s/o neck telling them how good they feel (WHY AM I SO PRO LOVE DRUNK ACE???)

Really likes wall sex bc hold them to be eye to eye with him

Last thing, this probably started as aftercare but just became something Ace does to comforts his s/o but he really likes to kiss both his s/o cheeks, then their forehead, tip of the of nose, and lastly a peck on the lips

—

A/n: the author note up top is from like October when I started writing this but I’m too lazy to change it but rn it’s really hot where I live, I need a job to pay off half my car but all the places I apply too never call me, send email saying their full staffed/i’m not moving forward, or when I do interview I don’t get a job :( but i’m doing good

Hope you enjoyed this massive comeback post :)

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

[**Note: this post is directed at other Jews and I am not willing to discuss it with goyim who in all likelihood have no idea about the context or even the literal text of these prayers. If you aren't Jewish, don't add on and don't reblog unless you're willing to also come collect your followers if they add nasty comments.]

Many of our shuls and communities have taken up adding special prayers in our services for the safe return of the captives, for peace, for our (American) government, for the state of Israel, and/or for the IDF, and I want to talk a little bit about that.

While the first two are likely not offending anyone, I know that a lot of folks might not be comfortable with the latter ones. I would like to share my kavana for how I can say all of them with my whole chest.

First, it helps if you know actual human people who are part of these institutions. If you know Israelis, it is much easier to pray for their safety in their country, even if you can't stand their government. And getting to know some of the young people who are in their mandatory term of service certainly changed how I felt about the prayer for the IDF, because I can't hear it without thinking of them. Human connection always changes the balance, and remembering that most of them aren't at the levers of control does too.

However, I actually routinely pray for people who are in positions of power, especially those who are using that power to cause great harm and suffering. I do this because there is no one on this earth who needs to hear the voice of Hashem and learn to lead from rootedness in Torah more than those in power who are using it badly. I pray every day that the small bit of power I wield, I use wisely and ethically, and that I am sensitive to hearing hakol mi-shemayim in my actions. That I will turn again and again to Hashem for guidance when I need help understanding the right path. All the more so do people with actual real power in the world need to open their hearts to what is ethical and right. Some do; many, as evidenced by their decisions, don't.

And so when my community reads these prayers, I imagine the good people I know and care about, and I also imagine the powerful people who need their hearts cracked open to the right path and compassion for all.

[nat-20s]

God GOD okay okay okay okay okay I'm having thoughts I'm having FEELINGS im having a Moment SO

I waanna talk about Ten and Donna (shocker I know) but SPECIFCALLY I wanna talk about like. Them and being besties and soulmatism and red string of fates and what not. Also this post is long as rambly as hell so I'm putting it under a readmore for my non-tendonna girlies <3

So like. The Runaway Bride really does establish them as future besties so so well and some of it is the writing but I do think that some of it is that Catherine Tate and David Tennant, by all available accounts, ALSO immediately got on like a house on fire. Like genuinely i know Acting TM is a thing but I think them getting on is part of why their on screen chemistry is SO electric and dazzling to the point where Donna went from a one off one episode character to *checks notes* a character that came back TWICE and also fundamentally changed the structure and DNA of Doctor Who as a whole so. You know. Pretty impressive. Plus Donna gets to have her first adventure with The Doctor as their absolute worst: Ten is grieving from a FRESH wound of losing Rose, he's incredibly cruel and incredibly cold and straight up murders the Racknoss without a flinch or hint of remorse, and even before that he accidentally kidnaps her and then insults her as someone to dismiss. That's not to say that she doesn't also see The Doctor at their brightest: he ends up treating her with incredible kindness, and he's dazzling and brilliant and cares so much and shows her the creation of the earth itself to provide comfort. However it IS to say that because of the nature of his first interaction with Donna he CAN'T put up a facade she already knows the truth!! She is walking into their dynamic with completely open eyes and at first it fucking scares her! She doesn't dislike him in fact they already are friends after less than a day but

Then partners in crime happens. And she's realized okay no actually I CAN take the bad with the good and I WANT to participate in all of it and I DO want this friendship. The Red Strings of Fate (or maybe the TARDIS being like lmaoo you need this girlie <3) bring them back together and they are Officially Tethered from that point on which is so so so delicious. It's also so so so delicious that Ten's still at an incredibly low point and she's still going into this friendship without any ruses in place. Like oh shit yeah they are Bound together even if they did separate now they would almost certainly find each other again.

AND THEN AND THEN!!! We've already established The Doctor and Donna as fast best friends but holllllyyyy shit I think Fires of Pompeii is what establishes them as forever Soulmates. I meant canonically the ending of Fires of Pompeii where she has him save the family fundamentally changed The Doctor for the rest of their lives and gave them a guiding moral compass long after she wasn't there so yeah that's pretty fuckin soulmates of them. But I actually think them as a concept of two people sharing one soul (for the better!!) happens earlier in the episode. The exact moment in fact is THIS ONE:

The Doctor has to make a choice. There are no good options: both are mass destruction and death. And it's SUCH a Doctor choice to have to make: actively destroy Pompeii and everyone in it, or allow the entire world to be destroyed. Not only that but it will likely kill both him and Donna as well. It's a mix of self sacrifice and other sacrifice to save the world and it's a horrific situation to be in.

It is a narrative that parallels the choice he made in the Time War. It is an archetypical Burden of the Doctor.

And then she looks into his eyes, sees his fear and hesitation and remorse and guilt, and wordlessly puts her hands on his. They push the lever to destroy Pompeii together. And it becomes the burden of the DoctorDonna.

[itspronouncedtessa]

The "English or continental" debate is problematic and ultimately detrimental to the community.

Every time I see one of these "are you one or the other" posts, polls, tweets (Xcreets?), blogs, vlogs, whatevers, I get so annoyed. Undies fully twisted.

So indulge me and let's get into this.

First things first:

This is not an attack on pickers or throwers specifically. Any knitting style is valid. If the end result is even, non-twisted stitches that you enjoyed putting together, you're doing it right.

That said, I have 3 major gripes with the concept of "English vs continental" knitting:

1. The terminology. The terms "English" and "continental" were coined during WWII, as continental is actually German and the English were (rightly, at the time) uncomfortable doing anything the German way, or admitting that that way could be more efficient.

As we're about 80 years removed from the war, it might be time to accept that neither is objectively better and that German isn't a dirty word. We can, and should, use English and German, or throwing and picking respectively.

2. It's exclusionary to new knitters. The whole picking vs throwing discussion has made it so that new knitters don't know there are other options. If you're new to knitting, you get the impression that these are the only two options and if you can't do either, you can't knit.

Not to mention that the overwhelming majority of patterns and instructional videos are written or made exclusively for English or German methods. Which means if you want or need to use a different style, you need the additional step and skill of translating the pattern to fit your method. This requires a certain level of understanding of the underlying techniques that new knitters don't have. (Which is why I prefer charts, but that's a whole different rant.)

3. It's exclusionary to experienced knitters who don't pick or throw. The term continental for specifically German knitting dismisses all the other non-German European styles.

An incomplete list:

Eastern, or Russian, where you purl clockwise instead of counterclockwise, mounting the stitch backwards and knitting through the back loop on the right side. Creates the same stitch, but can be so much smoother to execute. Also very useful if you're doing rows of YO, ssk, as it eliminates the need to reorient the stitches before knitting them together.

Norwegian, where you purl without the need to bring the yarn fully forward. This is hard to describe in words, so I highly recommend googling for a video on Norwegian purls. It's a game changer for rib or seed stitch.

Portuguese, where you tension the yarn at the front of the work, looping it over your neck or through a pin. My personal preferred main method. Super helpful for those of us who lack finger strength to comfortably tension at the back. Makes purling a breeze.

Irish or lever knitting. Done with straight needles and (mostly) one-handed. Extremely helpful for people with disabilities. Also one of the fastest methods. You should check out videos on this, the speed is magical.

Flicking (not exactly regional), which is right handed but instead of throwing, you move the right needle to grab the yarn. Also difficult to explain, so check out some videos on this, too. Its a very quick method with minimal wrist movement. If you have the finger strength for tensioning it's worth practicing this, as it's so quick.

All of these are valid techniques, most of them are from continental Europe, none of them are included in the question "English or continental?".

And all of the above doesn't even get into the non-western, non-English, non-European styles there must be around the world, that I can't find through Google, because the English speaking world only uses the above mentioned methods.

Also, knitters that use other methods than picking or throwing are wildly underrepresented in the community, giving the knitting scene a culturally very white, western European image. Knitting could be a far more inclusive hobby if we'd embrace all styles.

In short, we need to change the question to "tell me about your technique" and learn from each other. Combining multiple methods (I use 3 or 4 interchangeably, depending on the pattern) can increase efficiency and enjoyment. And if you're struggling in any way, there might be a technique out there that better suits your needs. Asking about English vs continental isn't going to provide that information.

So tell me about your technique, especially if you use or know of any knitting methods that aren't western or European, I would LOVE to hear about that. Let's share and celebrate all the ways we knit.

[roomsofangel]

synopsis life had been seemingly boring, y/n and her friends craved some sort of adventure. with the winter break, a lot of people in the town began having garage sales — with a trip down nostalgia road and memory lane, y/n finds a video game that she and her friends used to play as kids and constantly would have to be forced to sleep due to how long they all would play.

with a very pushy owner that seemed, at first, money hungry to get the game out of her hands, y/n takes it to the next hangout — only to find out why she was so eager to get rid of it.

or

y/n and her friends find themselves transported into a twisted survival horror version of their favorite childhood video game

genre(s) could be seen as fantasy. horror themes. angst. some romance. a bit of comedy. fluff. au’s include; pirates, doctor, vampire, circus ringmaster, street fighter & manager, prince, etc. written in third pov.

pairing ot8 x fem!reader (platonic mainly but there’s romance in there)

warnings explicit language. graphic scenes (blood and injuries are often mentioned) major character death (sorta), hospitals, scenes are at times detailed when it comes to the gore aspects. mental health. anything you’d expect from a survival horror game. more detailed warnings at the start of each chapter however due to the differences in settings and levels

status to be posted soon

started n/a

completed n/a

reblogs & comments are very appreciated and also help out a lot! thank you for reading and giving my work a chance ^_^

. . # chapters !

start! | level one | level two | level three | lever four | level five | level six | level seven | level eight | level nine | level ten | game over! | epilogue

a/n hellooo! ^_^ this is something i have been working on for quite some time, fully plotting and planning out since i was even on my old blog. and this is also me trying something new, specifically on here with a third person pov writing style which is my usual go to but i tend to only do second person here so hopefully you all like it?? :(

[alexiseatzbeez]

I'm Low On Gas And You Need A Jacket

Hiii !! This is my first time writing a creepypasta oneshot thing so that's fun. This is a ticci toby x reader thing that I thought about and wanted to write. It's also posted on my quotev (link at the end) where you can request other things for me to write !! Also this is my first time specifically writing for Toby so I know I probably missed some things, so if I ever write for him again I'm gonna be better about that. Ok onto this lol

It was the middle of December, and the snow was coming down steadily, matching the twinkle of the stars above. The frosty wind blew through your poor choice of clothes for the weather - a plain long sleeve shirt with jeans. You shivered as you mumbled to yourself, 

“Could’ve bundled up a little…”

There’s not much you can do now with a car low on gas and no one around to help, and being miles away from home didn’t help much either. 

The surrounding woods felt never-ending and did nothing to comfort you. The empty streets with old lamps flickered as you tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong with your car. A feeling in your gut told you that something was wrong, so you tried to work quickly. You shakily sighed as you shivered, fiddling with the car's buttons and levers, inspecting the car’s old gas pump, slamming your fist on it a few times just to see if that would work. You muttered under your breath again, starting to become annoyed with the thing,

“Damned thing won’t work…”

A huff of frustration left your lips, watching as steam clouded in front of you, making you remember that you’d probably freeze to death if this stupid car wouldn’t start up again. Your aggravation was quickly replaced with a small gasp of surprise when an unfamiliar voice rang out behind you, 

“You know, you probably shouldn’t b-be out here at this time of night.”

You jumped as you heard the voice, snapping your head to turn and face where it came from. You were met with someone you’ve never seen before in your life. Behind you stood a man with shaggy, uncut brown hair and orange ski goggles pushed up to rest on the top of his head. He wore multiple layers, including a plain black hoodie with a brown coat over it with jeans that almost looked too big for him. He was pretty tall, but the main thing you noticed was the giant bandage on his cheek, wondering what would be under it. Something else that caught your eye was the way he was acting. He'd occasionally twitch his neck or mutter something that sounded like it came out involuntarily. 

He stood a couple of feet away from you, not moving. You kept your gaze on him, confused as to where this guy even came from knowing you were in the middle of nowhere. You cleared your throat before speaking, trying your best to keep your voice steady even though worry started to fill your body. 

“I-uh… I know that.”

You immediately felt like a dumbass the moment the words left your mouth, turning away from him to look at your car again before looking back at him. You could feel yourself shake, like it was getting colder, or you were just becoming more nervous, you couldn’t tell anymore. The man spoke again, his voice sounded gravelly, like he was trying to make it sound deeper than it was, but you couldn’t tell or care at this point. All you knew was that he freaked you out and you wanted him to leave you alone. 

“Doesn’t look like you do or you would’ve been somewhere safe by now.”

He scoffed at the end of the sentence, making a whistling noise before stepping closer to you until he stood right beside you. He seemed ok, but something in his tone and his body language set alarms off in your head, telling you to ditch the car and run. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about this guy. He spoke again, realizing you weren’t going to say anything, 

“Look, it’s freezing and you’re car doesn’t look like it’s gonna do anything anytime soon”

His gaze moved from her face, to her car, to her clothing, letting out a sigh as he smirked and scrunched his nose, furrowing his brows as he shook his head

“And what’s with the-the outfit, anyways? This your idea of winter attire?” 

He chuckled as he spoke, rolling his eyes as he pointed a long finger at your chest, judging your choice of clothing. He made you feel dumb, but being out this late in this weather wasn’t exactly your choice. You’d be long gone and at home in bed if you had the option. You could feel yourself tense up as he stood closer to you, keeping your gaze on his face to try and figure out what his intentions were. Beside you, he studied the car, pointing at the gas pump and commenting on how you were low on gas like you didn’t already know that. The whole thing made you wanna yell at him and tell him to leave you alone, instead, you took a breath and tried to keep your cool as you responded,

“I didn’t have a jacket, I’m not supposed to be here. I’m kinda supposed to be at home by now but this piece of shit car won’t work.”

You paused your rambling, realizing you were probably oversharing. This guy didn’t need to know why you were here, or what you were doing at the old gas station. He nodded as you spoke, even though his face displayed that he really didn’t seem to care about the situation. He kept his gaze at your car as he spoke again, his voice felt monotonous with a hint of cockiness,

“S-sounds rough. So you’re just gonna freeze your ass off here while you try and fix that thing? You must be crazy or just plain dumb.”

A smug smile grew on his lips as he twitched his neck again, making you take note that he also had a patchy looking beard growing, too. You began to grow frustrated, taking note of this guy's features just in case he did something. You began to feel more uneasy. What the hell is he still doing here? Go away. The man was surprised by your lack of response, he was obviously trying to get a reaction out of you and was disappointed when you didn’t give him one. He spoke up again, you desperately wished he’d just shut up, it was like he couldn’t stand the silence.

“Maybe that’s the universe telling you that you need to stop pushing your luck.” He gestured to the wilderness that surrounded them, pointing specifically at the forest near the gas station, "You're out here all alone and your easy prey for anything out there.” 

Furrowing your brows and squinting, you stared at whatever he was pointing at. Your brain felt like it was melting from what he had said. What a creepy ass thing to say. As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. The forest was creepy as hell and being alone at night in the middle of nowhere was never necessarily smart or safe for anyone. His words began to sink in, if anything, you were more afraid of him than anything in that forest right now. You huffed as you faced him, starting to lose your patience,

“Look, I don’t know where you came from or why you’re here, but I’d appreciate it if you helped me or just left me alone. I’ve had a shitty day and I’d just like to get my car working so I can go home.”

Once you finished speaking, you saw him frown a little in response. His eyes burned holes into your skull as he absorbed what you had said to him. Your stomach dropped, you fucked up. The world seemed to stand still, the eerie silence filling the freezing air between them. He said nothing at first, only staring down at you with a piercing gaze, sending a sharp shiver down your spine. The only thing that broke the silence was the bitter, howling wind. His voice felt louder as he spoke up again. His words sharp and targeted towards you, 

“You’re real mouthy, aren’t you?” his lips curved into a thin line, eyes narrow as they continued to burn into you, “I’d w-watch out with that if I were you.”

Your brain told you to run, leave the car and run somewhere, anywhere but here. You realized that was stupid as you took into account what was around you. Your eyes darted quickly, trying to look at everything but him. Dread filled your senses as you remembered that you were truly in the middle of nowhere. You looked back at him, trying to figure out what he was trying to do. Words uncontrollably spilled from your lips, you were desperate at this point, unable to control the shakiness in your voice, 

“Wh-what do you want from me?”

It felt like the man's goal was to just make you as uncomfortable as possible. He remained silent for a minute, watching you shift nervously in place, fiddling with your thin shirt sleeves as you desperately tried to stay calm, looking him in the eyes. This guy knew exactly how to get into your head, eyes narrowing as he stayed quiet, waiting for you to break. His neck jerked to the side before he spoke,

“Well, the way I see it, I could either help you get your car r-running, or I could leave you here for the wolves.”

You felt like your heart was going to burst from your chest right then and there. Was he threatening you? It wouldn’t be shocking at this point. You stayed silent for a moment, realizing you’d have to work with him if you ever wanted to make it back home. You cleared your throat, voice still shaky from a mix of being cold and absolutely terrified. You nodded as you held out your hand for him to shake,

“What’s uh- what’s your name?”

This was your genius way of trying to fix this strange situation and get on the guy's good side. His eyes narrowed as he looked at your shaking, ungloved hand. The smallest look of surprise filled his features before he grabbed onto her hand and gave it a shake. His grip was firm but thankfully not too tight. He smirked as he shook your hand, looking up to your eyes as he scrunched his nose, “Name’s Toby.” He paused before continuing, still holding firmly onto your hand, “Yours?”

You let go of his hand before responding very bluntly, “I’m y/n…” You purse your lips together before looking at your feet, you didn’t know where to even go from here. You stayed silent until you heard snow crunching under Toby’s boots as he walked to the front of your car, popping the hood up to inspect it. You stared at him as he stared blankly at the machine, he looked absolutely clueless. You knew you were already screwed, but this guy just seemed to be making it worse because he had absolutely no clue what he was doing. 

He placed a hand on his head, seeming perplexed as he studied the car. It didn’t take an expert to tell you that this guy was just as lost as you were when it came to fixing shitty broken down cars. The tension was thick and the air had taken on an unsettling aura, one that you’d only felt a handful of times before. You felt your heartbeat quicken as you tried to find a way to calm yourself as he tried to work on your car. The demeanor shifted completely. 

You decided to try and talk to him, thinking it may make you feel better. As he worked on the car, you noticed something shiny reflecting on his back. There sat a hatchet, strapped over his shoulder. You hadn’t noticed it before, but now that you could see it, you only felt more uneasy. Swallowing thickly, you spoke as you pointed to it, watching him snap his head in your direction, 

“What’s um- what’s with the hatchet? Are you a lumberjack or something?”

The question sounded stupid. You mentally smacked yourself on the forehead, a lumberjack? Really? He seemed amused by the question, chuckling as he looked at her and cocked his head to the side. The hatchet had barely been covered by his coat, taunting you to ask him about it even if you'd regret it in the end. You could practically hear the teasing and smirk in his voice without needing to even see it on his face, “A lumberjack?” 

After a small pause, he shrugged, his gaze returning to the vehicle as he spoke, “No, I’m not a lumberjack.”

The response made you furrow your brows in confusion. You knew the question sounded dumb, but what else could he be? Upon further inspection, you noticed how rusty the hatchet actually was. It looked old and like it was in need of a replacement soon. The silence was killing you, so you spoke up again. Your voice sounded off in the sharp, cold air, “So then,,, what are you, exactly?” 

This was as normal as this conversation could possibly get. They’d talk about what they do for work, he’d somehow fix the car, and then they could go their separate ways and never see each other again. Your question was getting closer and closer to the truth. The hatchet sat comfortably on Toby’s shoulder, like he was used to having it there, its rusty surface seeming to reflect the moonlight above. Toby gave you a sly grin as he looked over at you again, taking a few seconds to just stare before speaking, 

“Do you really w-want to know the answer to that question?” 

His tone felt like he was teasing you, implying that his answer was going to be something horrible, something you wouldn’t want to know. There didn’t even need to be a physical threat for you to feel uncomfortable again, your imagination filling in the blanks as to what he was trying to say. 

You paused, trying not to just snap right then and there. You felt your eye twitch as you took a deep breath in and out. Did you really wanna know? All you wanted to do was talk about what each of you did for work, not try to solve some random guy’s weird cryptic rhymes and codes. The anxiety was bubbling up inside you, you wished this guy could just say something normal for once. You nodded slowly, not able to find the words you wanted to say. 

Toby was clearly enjoying your reactions, continuing to grin and stare you down as you waited for his response. Eventually, he spoke again, the cocky smirk never leaving his face, “I guess I’m in the hunting business, I don’t really have a name for it.” 

You nodded in response to his answer, watching his neck twitch again as you tried your best to speak up and make this feel normal again. You took into account his whistling and twitching thing, deciding not to ask him about it since it was so hard to learn what his job was. Your voice sounded dry, “I’m uh- I work at a coffee shop.” 

He laughed at your response which made you scoff a little, why was that funny to him? You couldn’t understand why he was the way he was, you just hoped that your patience would reward you by getting your car fixed and getting the hell out of here. You turned away from him, looking at the gas station. It looked run down and abandoned. Sighing, you kept your gaze on the gas station, you were done talking to him. 

The air grew still as you felt a creeping sensation crawl up your spine. The sound of rustling and your car's hood slamming down caught your attention, causing you to jump in shock. Your head snapped towards him, a confused look on your face. Before you could even speak and ask why Toby did that, you noticed what he was now doing.

His movements started slow, reaching for the hatchet’s handle on his back, grabbing it and placing it in both hands with a firm grip. You felt your eyes widen as a pathetic noise left your throat as you tried to ask and beg to know what he was doing, staring at him as you felt yourself freeze, trying to stumble away,

“I’m bored, sorry it uh- sorry it had to go this way I guess. It- it was nice knowin’ ya, y/n.”

Toby spoke dryly, shrugging as he grabbed at your shoulder, yanking you closer to him as he raised the hatchet over his head with his other hand before it came swinging down towards you. Finally, a shrill scream ripped from your throat.

Here's the link to that quotev I mentioned also

[kitmoas]

maimed underneath wreckage

TGU--Season 2 Installation 1

Warnings: **18+ ONLY** **MINORS DNI*** Mommy Kink, light talk of breeding, hostage talk, light degrading, talk of weapons and magic

as usual if I missed anything let me know!

Author's Notes: IT"S SEASON 2!!! Hi Hello, the beginning of season 2 is here! It's a day late and I'm sorry. Also no editing cause fuck that shit I'm sorry if there's mistakes. Hopefully its a good intro to the vibes of season 2 :) Lemme know your thoughts even if you wanna stay anon in my inbox

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Flickering, a small flame breathing in air as it grows slowly. Despite the darkness and the isolation, it almost feels as though the world is solid. Firm and rooted in a good foundation, but it won’t take long for that to crumble. Falling, spiraling about as if gravity no longer exists. 

Nothing in this place had longevity, changing within a single breath, a flaw in its creation. The insatiable need for peace drove the inevitable hysteria, and that’s where the structure falters. Slowly everything will become normal once more, forcing a reality check in which will leisurely chip away at the sanity within. 

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The sounds of conversations mixing is a nice change to the beeping of the lab and the clicking of keys in the office, a light wind blowing through your hair as you allow your eyes to laze around your surroundings. The heat lamp next to you allowed for you to sit atop the roof despite the snow along the grass under the balcony. Having spent the past few months keeping your head down after your first semester into your masters, it was nice to finally be back to something a little more normal. A moment between everyone that feels cozy, and you even feel comfortable with the arm that lays along the back of your chair. 

Empty plates are scattered and you know that your brother is confused, and a bit off put, but you try to ignore it. This isn’t where you thought you would be, but it’s okay. Life is a rollercoaster and you need to start understanding that, you cannot control everything nor can you put someone else in control of the levers. You need to move on, learn to take the hits like an adult and live. 

The talk was light the entire lunch, almost cordial which felt weird,and maybe you should have taken that as a sign that this was destined for doom but you shrugged it off. You were here for fun and not everything had to be serious, which made your skin crawl because you knew that wasn’t the same mindset of the girl next to you but it was the one you were stuck in. 

“So have you thought anymore about Peter’s offer?” It never happened on purpose, the dreaded swing back. An end to almost every interaction that you have with anyone at this point, never really detangling yourself from those that left your world rocky. 

You know your brother doesn’t mean it maliciously, but you can’t help but glare at him every single time he brings up the offer. A step into the same world as those that used to be your pillars, the ones that created your world as it once had been. 

Sighing, your eyes divert as you notice the hopeful look of both your lunch companions. “You know I haven’t Cars, you know that it isn’t the only offer I have and there’s no reason to even entertain it. I have school.” Despite the want for your voice to be strong, almost commanding, it wavers on each syllable. “I don’t need another distraction. I want to do well.” 

Before you even finish you can sense the change in his body language, jaw stiffening and eyes rolling. “Personally I think it’s time you stop running from what you’re actually good at.” 

Your mouth opens, just slightly, as your tongue dips out to wet your lips. “You know damn well that I won’t ever truly become part of that world, not full time.” The low simmering anger, the one that exists in you at all times, starts to heat up. You know where this is going, where it has gone for the past couple months. 

“Running from dad and who he was isn’t going to make you happy, we both know that.” The words were out of his mouth, put out into the world, but it was almost like you lost your ability to hear. It wasn’t healthy, your coping mechanism with your father, and you know that but at the end of the day you still weren’t ready to change. It almost felt too familiar, too cozy, and the thought of more change scared you. 

An answer for his statement never came, just your footsteps in the light layer of already melting snow as you walked back into the building. The loud chatter within the food court of your student union masking your emotions, as Cassie stumbled to thank your brother for having a meal with the both of you. Only the brief reflection of them parting indicated what happened at the scene you left behind as you conceal yourself within the wave of people all heading for the coffee bar. 

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A small stack of papers go flying through the air, hand slamming down on the large oval table. “We can’t keep acting like expansion is impossible! The world needs different types of technology so let’s give it to them!” Kate leers over the table, glaring at the projection of their end of year statements. 

You could feel the tension in the room, everyone was just a bit too scared to fight their boss. “Ms. Bishop, what….what would you mother do in this moment?” Apparently not everyone was scared, a single older man raising his hand with a strict look on his face. 

The young girl blinks, straightening her back as she stares down the table. Her jaw sets and she uses the moment of quiet to smooth down her blazer lapels. Kate settles down in her chair, allowing the smooth soft leather to calm her down more before she speaks. “Maybe you should remember where my mother got this company, yes? At the brink of forced federal shutdown, and practically bankrupt when our combined assets were seized. She destroyed the reputation of this company, disruption within the entire field, because she wanted to be rich. When I took the seat, and responsibility, of this company I swore that I would bring it back to what it could be but you all want to stay what my mother created. If that is true then security can escort you out because I will not be working with criminals. Meeting is dismissed and you all are required to go home, do not return to this building until or unless your mindset changes. We are not villains in this company and I will not entertain the idea of such ideals either.” 

Slowly each person leaves, shock on their face after being practically punished by such a young girl. They had always thought that she would be a fun loving kid, the one that was barely a good secretary but they knew she was growing into a good firm CEO. 

Letting the door lock behind the last person to leave, Kate leans back with her feet on the wood table. Sighing she rubs her hand along her face, staring out at the skyline. Her mind drifts as she tries to settle her heart rate. Memories of her favorite times plague her mind.  

“You wouldn’t dare, Mutt!” Her words held no real venom, voice cracking with laughter as she tried her hardest to keep the nerf gun aimed properly. The ginger staring down Kate as she holds you in a chokehold, her own gun against your temple. 

The body behind you shifts, the arm loose around your neck. “Bring it on, old lady, I’ll pull the trigger. I ain’t no scared lil bitch!” Everyone in the room cracks up at your girlfriend’s random accent that she puts on. 

Neither of you noticed Wanda, hovering in the back, eyes gleaming ruby. Just a tilt of her head and the brunette’s nerf gun is hovering above her hand, the two of you separated slowly. Her hands land on you and Nat is tackling Kate next to you. “Well hello, my little one. No one keeps you hostage but me, understood?” Her voice is deep, smooth as her lips move directly against your ear. 

The sight of the ginger straddling the younger girl below you, hand wrapped around her throat as the two kiss messily. You can’t help the whimper that falls from your mouth, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you try to focus on the feeling of Wanda’s hands on you, but you can’t help as your attention is pulled to the wetness growing between your thighs as you watch the beginning of dry humping. 

“Now, if Mommy’s little girl doesn’t start paying attention I’m not going to be able to take care of that issue growing between your pretty little thighs. Are you my brainless obedient hostage or not?” Her nails grips at your hips now, digging painfully into you as she tugs you backwards into her. Her bulge is prominent as she grinds purposefully into your ass. 

You can’t help but get lost in the sensation, arching your back as much as you can to feel more of the woman behind you. The sound of the witch’s annoyed sigh only turns you on more, as she lets one of her hands claw at your jaw–forcing you to nod your head. “Such a stupid little slut already?” Her other hand is pushing its way into your pants, fingers roughly swiping along your wet folds. “Do you want to play a game with Mommy?” 

Even though you are eagerly nodding your head, the claws that dig into you are forcing your head up and down as well. A sharp whistle makes you flinch, the piercing sound right in your ear as the woman behind you calls for the attention of the others. “It’s time for the puppy to learn how to breed our pretty little fucktoy.” 

Kate practically falls out of her chair at a gentle knock, the door disengaging as her secretary pops her head in. “Are you staying late? I can stay so you're not alone.” Her sympathetic smile makes the young brunette feel almost pathetic. 

Pulling herself up, politely she dismisses her and lets her know that she too is heading out. That she has a busy night ahead of her with some very important plans, but had just lost track of time. The brunette spends the next few minutes cleaning up, taking great care to make sure that her co-worker is fully out of the building before starting her descent down the stairs. A heavy sigh as she pulls up Doordash for some random pizza shop, trying once more to find a place that can take the place of her once favorite parlor.  -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Crickets softly chirp, a sound in the early night that still brings a soft smile to the blonde’s face, under the slowly raising moon. A chill is settling over the dead grass and bare branches, a sure indicator that another night time snow fall is approaching. It’s been a while since she felt like this, everyone around her had been so stressed out and tense but she just wanted the world back as she had fallen in love with it. That’s selfish but it’s what she wanted, even though she knows that the pain and despair she is going through is bare minimum compared to her closest people. 

“You know, when we were younger mom would also find you fallen asleep out here. She used to say that you were meant for the night. Viridescent in the moonlight.” Natasha’s smile is forced, and her younger sister can see it from a mile away. It had been for months now, if not even longer but it’s only gotten worse as each day passed.  

The hum is soft, barely loud enough to even be noted in the noise of nature. “I miss them.” Her voice breaks causing her to flinch at the obvious weakness she displayed, a quick flash too early in the conversation. 

Wrapping her arms around the blonde, the older woman takes a moment to press a kiss to her temple before rocking with her. “They loved you so much Y. You don’t even understand. When you came to us, god, that was it. We were complete and we all wanted to protect you so much. I wish we would have done a better job, we kind of failed there.” Even as the ginger looks out into the yard, a newly installed play gym shines in the dim light, she can’t help but let her mind wander to some of the best years she had in this neighborhood. 

“You…Sha, you say Mama and Daddy loved me and I knew that but why do step straight to them?” Yelena blinks up at her sister, relishing in the first sign of emotion from her. She watches her contemplate for a while, silence filled with the chirping of crickets, before she stutters out a few syllables. It ends in a stubborn snap of her jaw, the muscles there tensing as she clenches her mouth shut. “I just believe that they would enjoy it here. We will reunite with Mama soon and maybe by the grace of the gods Daddy will show, but we have people we love here. They once said that we find love grasp on tight, you remember?” 

Natasha nods, hot heavy tears filling her eyes. Forcing them down, she tries to chuckle. “The idea of that man being graced by the gods is hilarious, if anything that man would make it back to Yav in the form of one of Mom’s pigs.” At the dead end glare she receives the older woman gulps, trying to collect her thoughts. “Okay, I had to walk away. Okay? Okay. I think everyone can agree that I had to. I had no other choice but to remove myself from the situation. It wasn’t fun or nice but I had to. I had to. I had to Y. Okay?” It wasn’t on purpose but her voice was getting louder and her younger sister could see the anger and desperation rising in her. 

Pulling away to sit directly facing her sister, Yelena takes a deep breath as she goes through her thoughts. She knew that it wasn’t going to be easy and that she needed to take her time, but at the same time it had to be direct and quick to make sure that Natasha didn’t run. “The situation did not require leaving, you should never leave and even Daddy spoke to that. Do you not realize that staying would have allowed you to growth instead of leaving and the entire would becoming rubble?” Internally she flinched, the words spoken were harsh but she knew what she wanted out of this. At the end of the day, she herself was angry. Her sister walked away, without a fight, and the blonde knew that she was in the wrong. No matter how much she may idolize her older sibling she has to knock her off that pedestal once in a while. 

The two sit there, for almost an hour, in silence. It’s agonizing and tedious, a feat that almost feels athletic but it ends with Yelena retreating. A gentle kiss to the ginger’s forehead as she sighs, shaking her head and heading back into the house to allow her to have some time in a calm isolation. 

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Your brow was dripping slightly, the back of your hand doing barely anything to stop the droplet from stinging your eyes. A chorus of laughter echoes in your ears as you stare down at the facetime call, both Peter and America are frantically running towards your shared destination. “Okay, whoever gets there first needs to make sure that they try and get them to honor our reservation!” 

The boy yelps as he nods, the world rushing as he swings towards the science wing of campus. “I’m gonna beat you both!” He’s laughing loudly as he flips about, and for a moment everything almost seems normal. Just a couple college friends trying to finish some research, all of you aiming to practically overdose on caffeine. 

Trying to focus on not tripping as you exit the gym and keep up with conversation as America runs across campus, the rapid wind being Peter’s only real contribution to the call, you almost miss running straight into someone. Dropping your phone, the dreaded clatter never came and you realize that the beloved item is hovering within a glowing red orb. 

“You truly are just a clumsy little thing, you know?” Her voice is quiet, almost hesitant, as she looks up at you through her lashes. 

Frantically reaching up to your air pod you hang up your call before your friends can realize who you just ran into, literally, as you try to scramble your brain into thinking of any sort of retort. “Um.. I-” Your vision blurs slightly, but it’s then you realize she’s still crystal clear. The world around her is blurry and fogged, but as per usual she’s the brightest thing to exist. 

She smiles, a sullen thing pulling her lips, and shakes her head. “I just missed you, but you don’t have to reply.” A quick shush stops your arguing and her eyes dim for a moment. “It’s not fair of me but I just wanted to see you, just for a moment. I could never stay too far away from you for long could I?” There’s a slight cocky tone to her voice as she expresses her thoughts, her body straightening as she realizes you still react the same way towards her. 

“Why.. um.. Why didn’t you call me? I would have answered. I always would.” You try to reassure her or maybe that’s all for you, but you can’t help the words as they pour out of you. “You don’t need to miss me, I’m always at your access if you need me. We always promised that and I don’t ever want to break that promise.” 

The older woman chuckles, almost in spite of herself while she takes a few steps away. Her magic forces its way into your hand as it sets your phone there, waiting patiently for you to catch up to what was happening. It’s the last thing you feel, her scent pulling away as she moves farther backwards.

Gentle vibration that you cling to, but you never got to say goodbye as the entire world melts into nothing.  -----------------------------------------------------------------------

The door closes behind her, a barely warm pizza in hand. It doesn’t smell very appetizing, but anything with cheese should do the trick nowadays. The feeling is instant, the box hitting the counter without a sound. An arrowhead slips down her fingers almost at an instant, swinging around the young girl tries to play her paranoia off casually but her shock is something she can’t. There bent over the chair is Wanda, almost in a frantic state. Her face is flushed and wet with tear stains. Her demeanor is nothing like the CEO is used to but she knows their lives have changed a lot. “W-Wanda? Are you okay? What happened?” Her concern for not only the woman in front of her, but those that connect the two takes over. 

“Please I just want to see someone, anyone. Please. Where is Tommy? Billy? I’m begging you, I’ll do anything.” The woman is sobbing, the words slurring together as she struggles to stand up. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her frame was thin. It almost looked like she had spent weeks searching for these people, but Kate was completely confused. Who was she even speaking of? Did she find a whole new group in just a couple of months? 

Taking a step towards the crouched older woman was a mistake, causing her to practically fling herself backwards. For the first time the young girl stopped, head tilting in confusion and her hand falling to her side, Wanda was scared. It was something that she never saw before, and felt like even on the battlefield she had never even seen an ounce of hesitation from her. 

Slowly Kate slips to the floor, setting the arrowhead out in front of her so that she could seem less like a threat. “Hi, Wanda? Do you know who I am?” She was starting to think that maybe she suffered some kind of brain injury or maybe she was on some sort of drug. 

The frantic woman’s bloodshot eyes snap to match the calm dark waves, and it seems to help her breath a bit better. She shakes her head, pushing away until her back can hit the wall. “I don’t… I don’t know who you are. Am I supposed to?” 

It was a possibility, a small chance, and Kate knew that it was there but hearing it stung. A woman that not only did she look up to but also had grown a large liking to doesn’t know who she is. Though the hurt was sharp, and overwhelming, the young hero tried her hardest to ignore it. She had to save the woman in front of her, she had to make sure that she was taken somewhere that they could restore her memory. 

As gently as possible the archer reaches out, palm upwards. “Can I touch you?” Her voice was soft, almost as if she was talking to a sleeping baby. At the shy nod of Wanda’s head, she smiles. It’s not a beam or bright, but almost like the beginning rays of the sunrise–soft and warm. 

Her hand never makes it there, never touching what looks like a soft sweater, instead the world blacks out and it almost feels like Kate falls into a black hole. 

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Natasha had grown accustomed to darkness, the time of day when even the moon goes to bed. It happened to be one of her favorite times of the day, a peace that was laid over her like a blanket. When everyone else wanted to do everything during the day, she just wanted to wait for the shadow of night. She worked and thought best at the latest of times, and sometimes that backfired on her; as it was currently. 

She knew that her world was crumbling, but didn’t the destruction start two years ago? The daily life she had created was put on a pause and when she was able to hit play again, the script was rewritten. She was so far behind on rewrites and the new cast members that catching up was impossible, so she went along with what she knew. 

It’s not like she didn’t enjoy everything, nor did she not finally fall into a groove but the foundation she created was not the one everyone stood on. No, instead it had almost felt like a bridge–one laid upon the old foundation. It was strong but it was heavy upon the slowly cracking stone holding it up, time was the only thing in the way of the wreckage. 

For now this was her life, time in the neighborhood that could have been her identity. She could have been part of that family across the way, the one that is sleeping soundly currently and will wake up and get their children to school before heading to work. Maybe she would have been part of the couple that have three dogs and a cat, and work remote jobs so that they can travel the world together. 

Gulping down a thought, she hates to have the visions cross her mind. It could have been her and maybe someone else. Someone else right next to her, smiling and laughing; crying and healing. They could have survived the world together, but the fights would be corporate life and monthly bills. The two of them could have dogs and a cat or two, maybe even a kid if they really wanted. It’s a vision she sees every time she lets her eyes scan the backyard, fairy lights now twinkling dimly to allow enough lighting for safety. 

It’s then when she sees two small crimson orbs, floating. A sense of dread and urgency sinks in her stomach, her fight or flight kicking in and the need to grasp at her widow bites strong. As the circles approach, the figure being illuminated by the string of twinkling dots, Natasha realizes the familiar feeling. Taking her back to Sokovia twelve years ago, she realizes Wanda is the one once again hiding in the shadows; but this time Strucker is not a part of it. 

“Well hello Agent Romanoff.” Her voice was deeper, a bit of that old rage still there. “What are you doing out here, all alone?” 

Despite the girl being far enough out that Natasha could easily escape her, she still felt an overwhelming sense of danger. She knew what this Wanda was capable of, even if it was barely a fraction of what current age Wanda could do, and that was enough for her to let her widow bites activate. She doesn’t give the young girl the sense of pride to speak back to her, just stand at the ready. She couldn’t let her have a moment of the upper hand, she refused to feel her hex again. 

Wanda tilts her head, a mockingly curious look on her face. “Why do you seem so scared, aren’t you the great Black Widow?” She smiles widely, every single one of her teeth shining a faint red as her eyes pulse with her magic. “Or maybe it’s because your best friend Tony Stark isn’t here?” 

Blinking, slowly, Natasha tries to piece together what was happening. What does she mean? Did she lose her memory in the past couple months? Originally she had thought that maybe her magic had consumed her and that it reverted her back to a darker sense of dress, but the way she speaks isn’t something she understands. 

The one thing she is conscious of is the growing ruby orb rolling around in Wanda’s left hand, and the rapidly expanding magic glow around her. The presence of the magic was stronger than almost every moment Natasha had ever seen of the other woman. It scared her and that was the only thing that saved her as she jumped out of the way of the impending attack. 

Except it never happened, the world blurring almost as if her magic stole the ginger’s sight. 

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Chaos, that’s the only word that can really describe what is happening. It’s only a moment after the world blacked out, only a moment since three lives were blurred and melted back together. 

You didn’t really understand what happened, just a moment ago you  were staring at Wanda for the first time in months and now you were in some random room with people freaking out all around you. She was standing, somewhat away, trapped in a box. She looked confused, but almost at peace, and you wanted to help her. She had been caged before and you never wanted her to ever feel like that again. You didn’t even get to take one step towards her before you watched her start to glitch, almost like a computer screen, before she just disappeared. 

Swinging your head around you tried to find someone who would tell you what was happening, but that’s when you saw her. Kate, your archer, wait no. Kate. Just Kate. She was on her knees, talking to another Wanda who was curled up in a ball crying. It was only another second before that one turned to static. You watched as the brunette frantically stood up, begging for help from the first person she could find. 

Next to her, with shocked eyes, stood Natasha. Her arm is held up by the CEO as her voice gets caught in her throat, but her other hand is outstretched to where a crimson fog is dissipating. The two stare at each other for a moment before Kate apologizes, trying to leave the situation in a professional way. 

In the crowd you blend in, hiding yourself as agents and other Avengers run around. There’s screens and machines all around, things you don’t really understand as everyone is trying to piece together what could be happening. You almost couldn’t tell if you wanted to be seen by the other girl, or even by the widow. Your soul and heart craved her attention, and you knew that your body would relax just from the sight of the ginger’s eyes, but how could you look at them? You had destroyed their lives and now you must live in the ruins of it. 

“ENOUGH!” The loud voice of Dr. Strange freezes everyone, and for a time you think you’re safe. It’s until everyone turns to you, the summoning from the stupid wizard, that for the first time you drown in the salty blue of the eyes you missed most. It was pain, a stabbing through your soul that you knew you would never survive. The need for her attention, even the most miniscule amount of it, was like oxygen. You need it to live, and for the past few months you had none. 

You weren’t sure what any one spoke of, people pushing and shoving not only you but the other two to the center of the floor. A large table there that now seated the rest of the Avengers, three empty chairs left. Even though there is yelling and arguing around, you can’t help but stop. You want to just look at them, forcing your eyes away from Kate was a mistake as you struggle to stay still. You wanted to run to the widow, get on your knees and beg her to come back. 

It was a clearing of a throat that interrupts your thoughts, stern and firm. “We need to discuss Wanda.”

[diedikind]

Xie Lian taking away Lang Qianqiu’s freedom to choose his own path?

i’ve already addressed this in a reblog post but now that i’ve finished book 1 of the revised version i’d like to offer a more comprehensive analysis.

someone pointed out that in the revised version, xie lian seems much more “selfish”, that he is no better than White No-Face because he also lied to Lang Qianqiu to shape him into the kind of person he wanted him to be.

【Lang Qianqiu said sharply, "You still deny it?! For so many years, you've kept me from knowing who my real enemy is, you've deceived me yet made me grow into the person you wanted! To achieve this, you'd rather be thought of as the murderous culprit of the bloody massacre at the Gilded Banquet, allowing me to drive forty-nine nails into your chest and into the coffin! Guoshi, you're really something!"

With every sentence, Xie Lian couldn't argue because it was the truth. So, all he could do was despairingly say, "It's not like that."】 (new scene from revised version)

as i mentioned in my other post, a narrative that weaves its way through tgcf is how xie lian is supposed to be a parental/teacher figure toward lang qianqiu, and that such figures exist to the end of protecting/guiding children; even in modern society research has shown that the adolescent brain doesn’t develop fully until around 25 years of age, insofar as they shouldn’t be given complete free reign over many areas, for example we have laws pertaining to the legal age of driving or the legal age of drinking, we have age ratings for media and put minors dni in our bios… etc. in other words, it is not xie lian’s onus to completely leave lang qianqiu be to figure out his life. of course, lang qianqiu is a couple hundreds years old, but we will stick to the theoreticals of their what their relationship represents.

a brief aside about culture, i think western culture tends to place much more emphasis on individual choice / freedom in general, versus during my time in Chinese fandom nobody thought this was a problem. haha at the risk of sounding like communist propaganda, choice is not always good. for example, Barry Schwartz introduced the concept of the paradox of choice, which illustrates that while a variety of options allows for more freedom and autonomy, it can also lead to greater dissatisfaction, indecision, and paralysis; this is why businesses avoid presenting consumers with a wide array of products or services, because it could overwhelm them and lead them to give up purchasing anything in the end.

xie lian makes a similar argument:

【Indeed, whether the talisman burns could determine the life or death of what's inside the pot. But if the answer was "alive," it would be easy to kill whatever was inside right there and then. If the pot contained a little rabbit, a small demon, or even a human soul, then the gamble wouldn't be fun at all.

Shaking his head, Xie Lian said, "It's not that I'm worried. Of course, I know you wouldn't do such a thing. I just think it's better not to give others the chance to make such a choice.”】 (new scene from revised version)

this relates to the one-cup-of-water-two-people (i have no idea how to translate this properly) problem, in which no matter who you choose to give the water to, no matter which of the Two Paths you choose, it would always feel as if you’ve done something wrong. it’s a zero-sum game. similarly, alluding to the trolley problem, whether you pull the lever or not, you would either be killing someone or leaving others to die.

xie lian’s philosophy, then, is to prevent a situation such as the trolley problem from happening in the first place. he wants to spare the pain of the decision. he wants to eradicate the “two-paths” narrative.

hua cheng embodies the same philosophy. a few years ago, i asked a friend, how do you think xie lian would choose if he were to do the trolley problem, except on one track we have hua cheng, on the other track we have all the common people? and then i realised — hua cheng would probably willingly die for xie lian so he does not have to make the choice.

choice is burdensome.

another thing i want to point out is the popular phrase circulating on the Chinese internet “因为自己淋过雨，所以想给别人撑把伞” (“Having been drenched in the rain myself, I wish to hold an umbrella for others.”), in which there is no “neutral” option; there is no “support others in finding their own umbrellas”. in that sense, xie lian merely acts as a foil to bai wuxiang by doing the opposite of what he did. i do not think mxtx considered the “in-between” option of giving lang qianqiu the freedom to choose.

having finished rereading book 1, i realised that there is a line in it that directly mirrors the above.

【what he has endured enough himself already, he cannot bear to let another go through it as well.】

hua cheng also adds his own perspective to balance things out:

【He also sat down beside Xie Lian and said, "Moreover, if you value [Lang Qianqiu] so much, why can't you trust him?"

Xie Lian lifted his face from his arms. Hua Cheng said lightly, "Trust that since he is the one you've chosen, he will not lose himself in hatred. Even if he once wished to destroy the entire world, in the end, he will do what he must.”】

in the end, linking back to the narrative that xie lian is lang qianqiu’s parental/teacher figure:

【Lang Qianqiu looked as if he wished he could cover his ears: "Why are you lecturing me like this? What gives you the right to act as my master?"

Xie Lian replied, "It won't happen again." Lang Qianqiu was startled, and Xie Lian added, "This is the last time. Faults need fixing, and the rest is up to you to figure out slowly on your own."】

a popular interpretation amongst Chinese fans is that only upon his third ascension did xie lian “truly” ascend. if we read TGCF as a bildungsroman, xie lian starts off as a naive crown prince who matures through these 800 years. in parallel, then, we have just witnessed the inciting incident to lang qianqiu’s character growth arc. this is the beginning of his coming-of-age.

[moon1ee]

joel and grian in last life, before and after death: a fic

(from the point of view of grian considering joel, cross posted on ao3)

before:

the acidic smell of redstone smarting your nose, the shrill shriek of the other red name in your ear. you're the only ones left at the end of the world. his voice rises and blurs with the whining of the dogs. redstone has climbed its way into your throat and tongue in reverse, from the gut, from the oozing wound in your stomach. it grits your teeth for you, tenses your jaw. rocks turned pebbles turned dust, turned sand, turned ashes. you dig your feet into rock. there is red under your fingernails.

there is red in front of you, and a man like a sick dog. he laughs like an anvil falling, the metallic clang before the crunch of bones. it digs itself in your ears and cocoons there, content even as you aren't. your teeth ache. your fingers skitter around the lever.

a warning call. his name, over and over. let's blow something up together. it might just end your life. the whites of his startled animal eyes flash, the whites of his teeth. paper thin skin, undertones of sickness like crusted blood under fingernails.

your fingers are careful origami cranes, wishbirds crafted out of paper out of sugarcane you cracked someone open over. crack him open and find a wishbone inside like a fish, snap it in half and swallow it too. muscle memory keeps your shadow on the lever. muscle memory keeps just your shadow on the lever.

let's blow something up together. it might just end your life. his whine echoes off the walls of this crater-before-the-crater you've dug, too pitched and not pitched enough. it does not roll up and down as a dune luring a mirage, but cuts off and becomes a jagged cliff face. it grates.

the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. you are part him and part someone else. gestalt says you cannot view anything in isolation. what does that make you?

eighty percent chance the box opens and the cat lays dead, or you cut the noose around the horse's back. you've played with worse odds. too used to testing things to destruction, to carving out room for the shattering of something before its even begun. you hate rot and illness as you seethe over all growing things that live past their time. dragging a corpse facedown in the dirt.

it is his voice that stops you. you're the only ones left at the end of the world.

you tell him, eighty percent chance. he laughs like he believes you.

after:

the bizarre echo of the explosion, leaving confused quiet in its wake, the jingle of an ice cream truck receding. syrupy ghost lollies dripping over your fingers. wide-eyed sticky child, cheeks round in disbelief, looking at the carnage that wasn't.

it tastes like a wither shriek cut short over soul sand, and speaking of there he is again, shattering the sound barrier with his disapointment. there is another taste, almost unrecognizable in its familiarity, burning in your teeth and throat. even as you scramble out and reach for your sap-sticky crossbow you recognize that the livewire for the taste was first the smell, the smattering of gunpowder cracking over sand. your disapointed yell had echoed over the hills then. now you let him do that part for you.

above, the dawn masquerades as dusk. below, you masquerade as the living.

you die with his name lodged in your throat tucked away neatly with not like this.

rising to watch, smoke coalescing, as they take him down in painful, quick hacks as he foams like a diseased dog, barking swallowed by a surprised yelp.

you should've just killed him.

// (if you liked this, you might also enjoy my fic on grian and joel in limited life)

[vincentbriggs]

I hope this doesn't come off as rude but do you wear 'normal' clothes at all? Or do you wear your 18th century clothes all the time? If so that's really cool.

(I just saw you mentioned wearing the brown waistcoat a lot in your recent post)

Not rude at all! Aside from socks, underwear, and shoes, I make everything myself and haven't got "normal" clothes. I think I started making my own clothes about 8 or 9 years ago?

I don't dress completely historical for everyday, but very historically inspired. All my shirts are cut and constructed like 18th century ones, but a lot of the ones I wear everyday are in different colours, whereas the historical ones would mostly just be white.

I usually wear long trousers, but with the same waistband and closure as late 18th century breeches, because I like the buttoned fall front and how the waistband is made adjustable with lacing in the back. I will very occasionally wear breeches for everyday, but not often. The sewing machines at my work have knee levers, so the buttons would get in the way, and my shoes are ugly modern ones that are more practical for walking long distances and breeches & stockings would make them more noticeable.

And unless it's really hot out I wear a waistcoat, which is usually 1770's-90's in cut.

Here are some of my everyday outfits:

I don't actually wear this striped shirt often, just because the fabric turned out to be kinda itchy :/

This one's a dressing gown for at-home, and I wear little caps at home all the time when it's cold:

I've also been wearing leafkerchiefs pretty often (I've made 4 so far), since my hair is getting so thin on top.

I don't think I have any photos of me wearing this black corduroy coat with my everyday trousers, but it's one that I wear frequently in the spring and fall. (Haven't yet made my own winter coat, so I've just been wearing my grandfather's modern grey wool one, but I'll get around to it eventually.)

And an older picture from when I had more hair:

From about mid 2014-2017 I had 80's Dave Vanian hair, and magnificent claws, which was good fun. Alas, I now have to keep my first 3 nails short in order to sew with a thimble.