#but ultimately he’s a goddamn menace

[cevansbrat0007]

An Afternoon with Minerva

Summary: Ari finds himself finally ready to admit the truth about his feelings for you...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Slight Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Death, Cancer, Dead Mothers, Brief Mentions of War, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. Not beta'd. All mistakes my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Somewhere Four Hours Outside of Bell’s Creek, Texas

“Shit!” Ari hisses when he almost slips in the middle of trudging up the muddy hillside. It had been raining pretty much non-stop since he’d made it out of Dallas and it hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down. 

But that hadn’t been enough to stop Ari Levinson – not today anyway. Today he was a man on a mission. And that mission involved a meeting with a very special woman. The very first love of his life, and he’d almost missed it. 

What kind of son forgot about his own Mama’s birthday? Not him. Otherwise he would’ve never heard the end of it from Evelyn and Marcia. 

He knew without having to call them that his sisters had already been by with their families earlier in the day. And the last thing he needed was them throwing a fit over his absence, no matter how justifiable it might’ve been. 

The Bounty Hunter nearly stumbles again as he weaves his way through the numerous memorials and monuments. He tries to move carefully, doing his best not to disturb the tributes dedicated to others’ loved ones who’d all gone too soon, regardless of how much time they’d spent on this earth.

And his sweet Mama was no exception. She’d left him just shy of his 21st birthday. He’d been by her side, holding her hand as she took her last breaths. Which seemed only fitting since she’d been there holding him on the day he’d taken his first. 

Cancer had done his Mama dirty. But while it had robbed her almost everything – her hair, her ability to walk, and ultimately her life – her fighting spirit had remained. Minerva “Minnie” Levinson had gone out swinging, leaving him behind to see after his two younger siblings. 

A sixteen-year-old Evie had been so angry back then. So small, but so unbelievably pissed at the world. Meanwhile, sweet baby Marcie had clung to him so tight he’d damn near had a fight on his hands whenever he wanted to take a piss by himself for longer than two minutes. That ten-year-old might as well have been his second shadow. 

He’d honestly had no idea just how much he missed her following behind him until he’d been deployed overseas during his first tour. But they'd needed the money and the benefits. And he’d needed an enemy – someone or something that could help him channel all of the rage and anger and hurt that had been simmering beneath the surface. 

So he’d left them behind to help fight another man’s war. But not before entrusting his sisters’ care to his friend, Vicky Gunther. And at the time, the fact that she’d also been his highschool sweetheart had felt like an added bonus.

It hadn’t necessarily mattered that his mother had never been too crazy about the woman. But what had mattered was that the girls had someone he knew to look after them while he was out risking his life.

Ari’s grip tightens on the flowers in his hand as he finally finds himself nearing his Mama’s grave. Evie and Marcie had picked it out, all he’d done was sign off on the check. They’d assured him that it was exactly what she would’ve wanted, right down to the quote etched into the granite, which read: “Always keep them guessing.”

That had been Minnie Levinson’s favorite phrase whenever they pulled up in a new town. When you’d grown up being on the run, staying one step ahead of your opponent was an absolute must. Especially when that opponent happened to be your own damned father. Growing up the son of Rex Levinson meant always having to look over your shoulder.

Because you never knew where he might be lurking. He could be states away or, more likely, right around the goddamned corner. Waiting to strike when his poor, terror-stricken family least expected it.

So they’d had to learn to always expect it. Even now, the only reason Ari felt any peace was because his Daddy was currently enjoying an all-inclusive, taxpayer funded 15 year stay at the James Crabtree Correctional Center in Helena, Oklahoma.

Thankfully, Rex still had a few years left on his tab before society deemed his debt to them finally repaid in full. Once he was released, he’d deal with it then. But right now…

Now it was time to see about his Mama. And this chat that they were about to have was long overdue. 

A smile finds its way to Ari’s lips once he’s finally standing in front of his mother’s memorial. He pauses briefly before crouching down to place the bouquet he’d brought with him next to the offerings left behind by other members of his family. Although he wasn’t surprised, he was happy to see that they’d all brought daylillies, which had been her favorite.

“Hey. Happy birthday, Mama.” Ari whispers, allowing his fingers to brush along the cool granite. “I made it. Just like I told you I would.” His eyes flutter closed as a light breeze blows by, gently ruffling his chestnut locks. 

It was a sign from Minerva herself, letting him know that she was there with him too. Just like she said she would be. And his Mama had never been one to lie to him. Not even in death. 

“I see the girls have already been here. I’m surprised they haven’t blown up my phone.” He stands then, grimacing when his left knee cracks as a result of the movement. It seemed like that old injury only bothered him when it rained. Shit sucked. 

“I’m sure Evie brought by baby Micah for his first visit. He’s cute ain’t he? Little chubby-cheeked shit machine.” Ari chuckles at that, scrubbing a big hand over his heart. “And I’m not being rude. First time we met he had a blowout in his diaper that was so bad we both needed a shower.” 

He laughs harder at the memory of him desperately trying to hand off his incredibly messy nephew to first his own Mama, and then his sister. They’d swerved him so fast, claiming that it was about damned time he learned how to change a diaper. 

He’d been mighty pissed at the time. But even so, he and baby Micah had stomped off to the bathroom, determined to handle the stinky situation like a couple of real men. And when they’d emerged from said bathroom forty-five minutes later, they’d been the ones to have the last laugh.

Okay, not really. Micah’s mother, Evie, had been too busy napping on the couch to notice much of anything, her body buried beneath a sea of half folded laundry. And Marcia was playing Go Fish with their four-year-old niece Isobel. But Ari hadn’t allowed the lack of fanfare to take the wind out of their sails.

He’d just grabbed a bottle of milk from the fridge and retreated to his sister’s bedroom, intending to teach the kid about the importance of football until they’d both dozed off. And he still had the picture Evelyn had taken of them both that afternoon, fast asleep in the bed. The baby rocking a Dallas Cowboys onesie, and him wearing her lavender bathrobe.  

“They were just jealous, Mama. There I was being a good uncle, bonding with my nephew, and they were playing paparazzi.” That breeze kicks up again, the smell of wet earth filling the air. 

“But I’m sure you already know that. You were there. You saw everything. Those two were picking on me like they always do.” Ari pouts then, jamming his hands into his pockets. “There’s just something not right about those girls. Everytime I’m around ‘em, they pinch and poke and prod. Always asking if I’m seeing someone.” 

“It’s annoying is what it is. Makes me feel like a damn pincushion or somethin’.” The Bounty Hunter grumbles, nudging a tiny weed with his foot. “How am I supposed to tell ‘em anything if I haven’t run it by you first? Especially when it’s…when it’s…” He trails off as he searches for the right word. 

“Real.” He sucks in a breath as his head dips to his chest. “It’s real and it’s right and it’s new. It’s all those things, Mama. And I don’t know what to do with any of it because it’s like I spend half the damn time fightin’ with myself and the other is spent fightin’ her wanting to fly away on me.” 

One hand leaves his pocket to rest on the back of his neck. “And I know what you’re probably thinking, Mama. But that ain’t the issue. This woman, my little Bird…she ain’t Vicky.” He rocks back on his heels, careful not to slip in the rain soaked grass. 

“And I know you didn’t much care for Vicky. I already told you that I made a mistake with that one. I thought I was doing a good thing leaving the girls with her…” A harsh sigh leaves him as a fresh wave of bitterness rises in his throat. But he swallows it down, refusing to let it choke him. 

Because there was more to be said about the woman in his life today. His woman. His sweet Bird.

“Bird is everything I thought Vicky was. But it’s more than that. She’s the best part about that godforsaken Bell’s Creek. And something tells me that she’s wading knee deep into a pile of shit with this fuck, Martin, and these assholes, the Prescotts. It’s all one big mess that I normally would be chompin' at the to get rid of…”

Ari’s head drops again as he prays for another gust of wind, wanting another sign from his Mama to let him know that she was still listening. He doesn’t speak again until he feels it on his skin. This time it’s a loving caress, a gentle reminder that he’s not alone. 

How could he be when he had Minnie Levinson by his side?

“I haven’t had a single nightmare since I met her. I’m not saying I’m fixed or anything…” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “But maybe I’m not quite as broken as I thought I was. At least she sure doesn't seem to think so. She just tells me I am an ass.”

The sound of squirrels playing in a nearby tree is enough to distract him, albeit briefly. Once they settle down he quietly forges on.

“Ma, I swear this girl is really something special.” Ari whistles, running a hand over his beard. “Sweet, funny, absolutely gorgeous – and did I tell you she runs a bookstore? Can’t go and leave that part out now can I?” 

By now the rain has stopped, with the sun finally beginning to emerge from behind the clouds. He welcomes the warmth it brings. His Mama deserved to enjoy a little sunshine on her special day. 

“She – we fight like cats and dogs sometimes - my Bird and I. But that’s not really my fault. I mean I consider myself to be plenty damn agreeable with most things. But my woman…let’s just say I’ve met mules less stubborn than she is. But even so, it’s…it’s like I can’t get enough of her.”

Ari blows out a comforting breath before closing his eyes, his fingers going to the bridge of his nose. “She’s…she’s making me wanna stay. Got me wantin’ to plant roots and build her a house, complete with the white picket fence.”

“I’ve been lost since the moment I laid eyes on her, Mama. And nothing feels right unless I’m with her. When she’s not around it’s like I can’t think – I’m off balance and…” He swallows thickly. “Like even now, I’m here with you and there’s a part of me that is just itchin’ to get back in my truck and haul ass all the way back to Bell's Creek. I mean, I suppose I could’ve brought her with me.” He cocks his head to the side as the thought strikes him. “She would’ve come, but I couldn’t...”

Ari goes back to awkwardly bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I couldn’t bring her here because I needed to talk to you about her first. Introduce her properly so that I could tell you myself that I…” He swallows again, fighting the lump in his throat. 

“I love her, Mama.” 

There. He’d gone and said it. Not in his head. But out loud to the air. To the world. To his Mama.

“And that sweet little spitfire makes me work for it every day. I’m telling you right now that she needs a damn keeper. And I need her to keep me…balanced.” 

A grin spreads across his features as he feels the weight he’s been carrying suddenly lift from his shoulders. “I’m gonna introduce her to the girls, okay Ma? I know they’ll love her like I do. But can you do me a favor and tell ‘em to be nice? You know they never do anything I say.”

Ari bends down to let his fingers graze over his mother’s headstone one last time. “And when the time is right, I’ll bring her here to meet you too.” He murmurs, wishing for a moment that they were actually speaking face to face instead of like this. But unfortunately, that couldn't be helped. 

“Until then you rest easy, alright? Because me and the girls are doin’ just fine.” He takes a tentative step backwards. “I love you, Minnie Levinson. And I’ll be back to see you real soon.” Ari turns on his heel, preparing to navigate his way back to his truck. 

Halfway through the maze he pulls out his phone, thumbing through his contacts until he lights upon your name. He taps the entry before holding the device to his ear. The sound of your voice on the other line is enough to ease the subtle ache in his chest. At least for now. But he also knew from experience that it wouldn’t go away until he had you in his arms again. 

Just four measly, lonely hours until Ari Levinson felt whole again. 

END

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[el-warverine]

For anyone writing/drawing Logan as trans, what i've gathered:

Tldr: Top surgery would work. Obviously, who cares, you do what you want im just a nerd thinking about it too hard

(Tap click do a dance on the images so they become somewhat legible)

Here goes:

Despite the fact that Wade's healing factor was derived from Wolverine's, Logan doesnt grow pieces back like Wade does.

(Except in Ultimate Spiderman where Peter and Logan switch bodies, Peter cuts off Logan's pinky and it regenerates.)

But in most comics (especially those with the Hulk -side eye), dismembering Logan is a good way to beat him. Most cant, because Adamantium Skeleton, but Hulk has torn him in half and guess what

He had to go get his legs

They dont grow back

In this same Hulk comic, Fury actually captures Wolverine and they butcher him to hell, leading him to this theory:

Maybe Logan's "Healing Factor" is less about healing and more about surviving.

(Logan being a menace and asking for scritches just so he can maim Fury back a little AS A LITERAL HEAD is funny af to me holy shit what a creature)

So, yeah, Logan could get something removed, and it won't necessarily grow back. Especially something that isn't needed to keep him alive (but even vital organs are optional apperantly)

That tissue would independantly stay alive and be a goddamn national threat tho because people would use it to clone him or some shit so imagine a world war breaking out over getting a hold of Wolverine's tiddies itd be insane. You gotta burn the fuckers. The Wolverine Tiddy War of Earth 800813.

[visenyaism]

thoughts on jaehaerys ?

fire and blood making him unambiguously goddamn terrible sure was a play. Between making his mother reconcile with her terrible second husband who hated her and sending her back to storm’s end (resulting in her violent and gendered death), inventing the doctrine of exceptionalism so that he could marry his 12 year old sister (which eventually resulted in the downfall of house targaryen), exiling his MUCH cooler older sister to Harrenhal so she wouldn’t have a claim (resulting in her death that damn curse got her) passing over daenerys for his son against his wife’s wishes, making his wife carry 13 of his children against her wishes, forcing his terrified likely neurodivergent 13 year old daughter to get married against her will (resulting in her violent death), exiling his 16 year old daughter to another continent for having premarital sex and saying sex work is where she belongs, forcing his other 16 year old daughter to get married to an old man thousands of miles away from her home (resulting in her death), locking his final teenage daughter away from public view during her pregnancy and miscarriage (resulting in her death) and passing over Rhaenys for Viserys (resulting in the dance of the dragons, which caused the downfall of house targaryen), Jaehaerys was a MENACE to each and every woman in his life and ultimately laid the seeds for the cataclysm that would swallow his whole family forever. he is the WORST but is not criticized in-text like other kind of bad kings. i need more characters in the main series to come out as jaehaerys haters

[takerfoxx]

Okay.

I don't often gush about movies on this blog. Hell, I don't often go to the movies anymore. I just don't have the attention span for it. And I honestly was going to give this one a miss until someone who's opinion I trust was adamant that I needed to see this film right now on the biggest screen possible while I still had the chance. So, FOMO out won over, and I went to go see Godzilla Minus One in Imax.

...

Look, I've been a Godzilla fan practically all my life. My family used to rent those old english dubs of the films on VHS from Blockbuster in the early nineties. I grew up with these monsters. But I have to admit, I've never seen the original, nor have I seen Shin Godzilla. To me, Godzilla is about one thing and one thing only.

Fuck.

Yeah.

Gimme the big monsters just going HAM on each other. Rubber suits, CGI, I don't care! I want the big boys with beef to beef with a large side of cheese!

I guess that's why Godzilla 2014 ultimately left me feeling kind of cold while I absolutely loved KOTM despite how stupid a lot of it was. I just want my big monsters absolutely wrecking shit.

This was different. I knew it was going to be different. A remake of the original Godzilla, this time from the viewpoint of the common citizens still trying to get their lives together after WW2? I knew I was in for some heavy drama.

What I didn't expect was one of the most amazing theater experience I have ever had.

And I'm not just saying that because the movie is good, even though it is.

I'm not just saying that because the movie is great, even though it is.

I'm not just saying that because it's a goddamn masterpiece, even though it is.

I'm saying that because it's about as close to perfect of a film as you can get, and not just of a Godzilla movie, but just as a movie!

Like, it's a running joke that you can cut the human characters out of any Godzilla movie. Here, you could cut Godzilla out and still have a great movie. That's how good the human side of things was.

Like, you really grow attached to these people who have literally lost everything. You grow invested in their struggles, in their relationships, in their baggage, in their love for one another. You come to care about them and are genuinely happy as they eke out a new life after having their homes literally blown to bits. You just want to see them succeed and be happy together.

And that's when Godzilla shows up.

This movie is called Godzilla Minus One in reference to how post-war Japan was basically a Zero Society, left devastated by the conflict. And these people who literally were left with nothing suddenly find even that ripped away as an enormous monster just starts rampaging through the recovering cities.

And this time, Godzilla isn't an avenging hero. He's not a destructive anti-hero. He's not a fun mascot. He's not even a poor, suffering monster unaware of the destruction that he's wreaking. This Godzilla is goddamn menace, an outright monster that is absolutely terrifying. He wants to crush, kill, and destroy. This is Godzilla at his most actively malicious, and all you can do is gape up in horror with these people that you've come to care so much about, wondering how in the hell are they supposed to deal with this!

I won't give away how the day is eventually saved, only to say that it is a masterclass of character-driven suspense and emotion. You honestly come to root for the humans for once. You want to see them succeed, and are genuinely in fear for their lives. No exaggeration, I had my heart in my throat and tears in my eyes all throughout the climax. I don't cry during movies, and this movie made me sob like a baby. It was that good.

And it also had so much to say! Not only about Japan's collective trauma following the nuclear bombs or the other bombing raids like the original, but also about how the Japanese government dehumanized its own people during the war, treating them as expendable resources to fuel the war machine. The main character is a freaking kamikaze pilot who lost his nerve and abandoned his mission, and that plus another act of what he saw as cowardice haunts him throughout the movie, and while it realistically shows how such a person would be treated like a pariah by his former friends and neighbors, it is nothing but sympathetic toward him. He blames himself constantly, but the narrative never seems to.

And there's just this wonderful moment near the end, when it's clear that the government isn't coming to the rescue, so it's up to the common man to band together and find a solution, when a few men leave the mission for fear of their lives and that of their families, and are not condemned for it. And the scientist spearheading the whole thing gives this lovely little speech about how carelessly life has been treated during the war, from the kamikazes to the poorly maintained supply chains to how the common folk were left to fend for themselves, and he hopes to just once be able to secure a win that doesn't sacrifice any more lives. Wow.

I know it's probably too late for anyone else to see it, because I'm pretty sure it's theatrical run ends today. I just wanted to get this review off my chest, because wow, this was the best movie I've seen all year. What a goddamn masterpiece.

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

Ultimate Talent Development Plan - Makoto Naegi Event Notes

fkamfkjan of course it starts with him getting hit by a soda can

Wait what why are you here Kiyo, also Makoto called him Kiyo. Also what the fuck kind of metaphor is that, what are you thinking about with Makoto Korekiyo-

Alright fine you have a point Korekiyo

Damn he's poignant at times

Have you considered simply getting taller?

Angie no!

Sayaka I love you but this is SUCH a strange conversation starter

Makoto looking at this luck singularity: ah well, this'll get weird

Celeste's character is so so so fascinating and i'm guilty of girlbossing her a bit too hard like many people, her views of luck were very much the foundation nagito was built on

Also if we're talking about the mahjong thing, my ranking of winner to loser is Nagito, Makoto, Celeste, Jin. Celeste gets lost because as she doesn't bet anything it's not gambling, her talent doesn't activate but her skills carry her enough to beat jin at least. Makoto almost wins but loses last minute with a super lucky move from nagito, which nagito views as unlucky as he wasn't supposed to win.

Ouma is such a fucking MENACE in this scene I fucking love him

Why the fuck did you say that like that Makoto I'm laughing why are you saying it like its some criminal nickname or something

Girl what do you MEAN you have friends

OH NO MAKOTO

Makoto this is going to be REALLY awkward!

This is the most awkward moment of his fucking life goddamn pitching nothing but strikes my dude

Too many ahoges.

Wait what huh

The fourth wall is in fucking tatters, truly the true mark of a protag isnt ahoge, its a gift giving love language

Who let you two be in a room

GET HIS ASS

Togami that's gay

Alright sum up

Makoto never really grows into his hope talent due to the lack of killing game, and as such tends to get pushed around a lot and dragged into things. However he's still very kind and quite perceptive on small details, able to push people to improve and open up.

He also stays somewhat hung up on his luck talent to the very end, while he does get a bit more confident, he never really embraces into being an ultimate. That doesn't mean he doesn't end up with a lot of friends and good memories with him and Kirigiri still managing to bond.

All and all a very average school life.

Outside of Makoto, Ouma keeps up his 'hardest difficulty' thing from v3 even in a not killing game scenario, Togami continues to hate everything going on ever, all the protags bonds over being protags and being gift givers, Shuichi still has self esteem issues, and Kirigiri keeps up a very stoic no emotion business relationship with her father. Also Usami apparently is working with the Reserve Course? Well can't get any worse then canon I suppose.

[babyhatesreality]

The Sinner and the Saint Ch 11

Pairing: Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, language, reader is referred to by her stage name of Angel, pet names, post and morning after pillow talk, oral (f and m receiving), playful banter, everybody has secrets, reader is insecure, reader is an extremely flexible exotic dancer.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NS/FW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs deeply appreciated.

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

You both lay in the bed next to each other, gasping for air as you came down from your respective highs. The sweet smell of arousal and sweat permeated your senses, and you managed to turn your head to look at him- you weren't entirely sure that you could move until you did. As high as he had gotten you, you couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way...

The look of wonder on his face was completely unexpected- and made you feel like the goddamn Greek Goddess of Erotica. He sensed your eyes and turned towards you as well, both of you still breathing hard.

"Jesus Christ," you managed to gasp out before you could stop yourself.

"Nope, Bucky Barnes, but we already covered that earlier. Also, told ya you'd be calling me that."

The shit eating grin on his face made you burst out laughing. He snickered, pleased at your response, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in to snuggle on his bare, warm chest. You gently inhaled his musky scent, letting out another sigh of absolute contentment at this life-altering night.

"Go to sleep, baby," Bucky whispered gently into your hair. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you felt his metal fingers tracing your arm lazily as you immediately drifted off.

*****

You were way, way too comfortable to wake up. It was deliciously warm and soft, and your body felt like you'd just received a massage of the highest caliber. You hadn't felt this good in a long, long time.

You felt consciousness tugging at your eyelids, and you grumbled like a child, just a little. It was only when that sound was met with a low chuckle did you remember...and you were no longer upset about waking up.

You opened your eyes and without meaning to- and to your horror- let out a huge yawn right in Bucky's face. What if he thought that meant you were bored with him? What if he took that as a bad omen? What if you had horrid morning breath?! You snapped your jaw shut as fast as you could.

But to your ultimate surprise, he leaned in and kissed you reverently. "Good morning to that gorgeous mouth," he murmured against your lips, making you giggle in relief. That was all the invitation he needed to roll on top of you and press his tongue gently into your mouth. The feeling of his exquisite body on yours, holding you down, worshipping you with his lips, made you get all hot and bothered all over again.

Definitely worth waking up for.

You made out like teenagers for at least ten minutes morning breath be damned. You could feel his cock stiffening again, and the idea of round two with Bucky Barnes nearly made you orgasm. He finally pulled his lips off yours, but looked down on you with that menacing grin that shot a thrill through your veins. He rolled onto his side, his blue eyes never leaving yours as his fingers traced up and down your torso.

"So you should know something..." Bucky said, cocking one eyebrow challengingly at you.

"More personal revelations? You didn't get them all out last night?" you teased back, tilting your head and feigning innocent while reveling in the feather light touches you were receiving.

"Not even by half."

"Not sure I can take another 'I'm a dangerous gangster' secret this early in the morning."

"Oh, you'll take it. You'll most definitely take it."

"Oh really? And what exactly am I taking?"

"Well, as a Mafia Don, I am entitled to a certain level of....friendship."

"If what we did last night was 'friendship' to you, I'm going to have some follow up questions about your relationship with Steve."

"Har har. What I mean is that, when you're with a man like me, and you spend the night...I'm going to require payment the next morning."

"...."

"Every time you spend the night, you owe me one morning orgasm."

The delightfully wicked grin on his face called to your inner sassy pants. He thought he had one on you. Fine. Two could play at this game.

"I see," you said carefully, letting your eyes wander over his head as you pretended to think about it. "Well, guess I have to pay up then," you said cheerfully, and before he could do anything, you suddenly dove under the silky purple top sheet, rolling over and trapping his legs beneath you, and grabbing a hold of his morning wood. He couldn't do anything more than splutter before you licked a long, slow stripe up his impressive length.

"Wha-whoa, that's not what....ohhhhh," Bucky moaned suddenly, as you drug your tongue over the head, before gently cupping his balls. "Angel, I-" he suddenly let out another erotic cry as you suddenly closed your lips around his tip and gently sucked. He seemed to give up talking after that, resorting to the most filthy sounds that you'd ever heard. You took your time, aching to make him feel even a tenth as good as he'd made you feel last night. You sucked him for another moment or two, before pulling off. Before he could protest, you gently ran a fingernail up his cock, causing it to twitch violently and him to arch his back. You dove back onto him, relaxing your throat as much as you could to take as much of him into your mouth as possible. You teased and suckled and licked until he just couldn't take it any more.

"Angel, I'm cl-close, I'm so close," Bucky panted. "If you don't want me to cum in your mouth, then-" He never got the rest of that sentence out as you began sucking his huge cock with a fervor. Of course you wanted him to cum in your mouth- what kind of a question was that? You bobbed your head faster and faster as his breath grew more and more ragged, until finally he came down your throat with a scream. You milked him for all he was worth, swallowing all he was giving you, and it was only when you could feel him stop that you gently slowed down and pulled off, giving him one last kiss before you emerged from under the sheet and got a good look at your man.

Bucky Barnes, the huge, dangerous mafia boss, was actually pale and shaking, his body beaded with sweat as he tried to recover from your amorous attack. His blue eyes rolled to your face, a wild look in them. "Jesus. Fucking. CHRIST," he moaned out.

"I think we've already established that that's not either one of our names," you said nonchalantly, making a big show of wiping the corners of your mouth with one finger, then licking it devilishly. His eyes snapped and sparkled at that. "So did I pay up, Godfather?"

"You saucy little minx," he growled playfully, the mischief growing in his own eyes. "You know damn well that's not what I meant."

"Huh?" you asked, all piously innocent. You squealed as Bucky suddenly put his huge hands under your arms and flipped you effortlessly onto your back. You'd never been manhandled like that before, and quite frankly it was one of the hottest things that had ever been done to you. He threw back the bed sheet before trapping your legs beneath him like you had just done to him. He leaned down to kiss your stomach.

"Don't you 'huh' me, you little brat," he growled, his lips never leaving your skin. "Oh, I'm gonna have fun taming you."

"If you think you can 'tame' me, you've got another thing coming, bub."

"Challenge accepted. Now lay back while I collect what I'm owed."

You honestly didn't remember much past that except overwhelming and wild intensity. Bucky's tongue and lips performed their magic between your thighs, and you were an absolute mess of a human being under them. He seemed to find every little spot that made you bow and arch, delighting in drawing out every cry and gasp that you made for him. He found just the right place on your clit and sucked so hard that your legs actually shook. He was just as relentless and unmerciful as you had been, and when you came you swore later that the heavens split open inside you.

As your vision cleared and your ears stopped ringing- yeah, it had been THAT good- you became aware that he was nuzzling your lower abdomen with his nose and feather light kisses. He finally looked up and caught you staring at him in wonder.

"Don't you look at me like that," he teased. "You deserved that, and I always get what I aim to collect." He grinned as your mouth dropped open. "With the blowjob you just gave me? Your name may be Angel, but you, madam, are no saint."

"And anyone that can make me see God like that, sir, is no sinner, even if he is a big Mafia Don," you quipped back playfully in between breaths. He chortled a bit, then scooted back up beside you.

"Tell me again how 'big' I am," he said cheekily, before kissing you hard. You sighed into his mouth and let your hand travel down again, gently teasing. He shuddered with delight, then pulled away just a bit, forcing you to stop before you could make him come again.

"So, seeing as we're both apparently fantastic at oral," he said frankly, turning his wicked grin on you. "You ever tried to sixty nine?"

You laughed, delighted that he was already thinking about the next time. "Always wanted to, never done it," you said honestly. "I think we have quite a few things like that to talk about, don't we?"

"You bet your sweet ass we do," he said triumphantly, making you giggle again. "God, that's a conversation I can't wait to have. We definitely cannot have it at the club or at the restaurant."

"Why not?"

"Why not? You think that I'm not going to tear the fucking clothes off your body after we get through just the first point and fuck you until you've got no voice left to scream my name? You're insane."

"Okay, when you put it THAT way." A wicked thought popped into your mind at that....oh, you knew what song you were going to dance to tonight...But before you could tease him any more about it, he suddenly sprung from the bed.

"Come on," he said, walking around to your side and holding out his hand. "Come shower with me, then I'm taking you out to breakfast."

Well. Who were you to argue?

Chapter 12

[lonelylonelyghost]

Re-watch of The Spirealm. Episode 34

Tall, handsome, smart and traumatized. Our resident little princess.

"The mole doesn't seem to be very intelligent. Why would Xiangyao make such a choice? If she had chosen me, the Door challenge would be much more interesting. I could kill all of you any time."

hot

This character and his reveal was genuinely surprising for me

But I didn't feel good about it...

"Why didn't Xiangyao just choose me? This could've just make things easier, right? I can kill all of you effortlessly."

Aww, our murder husbands think alike! 🥰

👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

Where did they even find such a place? It's sick as hell

🦵

Couldn't find a proper nail emoji, so I'll just go with

⚰️💅

🕮

Just couple things: being pretty and menacing together while uncovering a spy

I pity this girl, but goddamn.

If you are capable of dooming everyone around you to their death, at least don't whine about it afterwards. It's so grating

The Realization

Nope! Everything is fine, don't worry about it🙂

****

His soft little:

Augh!

The infinite staircase equivalent for this Door

"Don't you find Zhu Meng a bit strange?"

Nanzhu, at this point you have to know that all your attempts at fooling Qiushi are ultimately fruitless, right?

SPIREALM👏MERCH👏

WHERE

"Yu Lingling, can't you listen to me just once?"

Of course he can't, you absolute fool

"It's not that you don't want to come out, the door simply can't be opened."

"Sometimes I wish you weren't so smart. Because smart people are always in pain. Lingling, goodbye. I hope you won't be in too much pain."

When Qiushi starts opening all the random boxes in order to find some useful tool, something, anything, or at least get a Box Demon, so that he could go together with Nanzhu...

And Nanzhu's utter panic, because Qiushi cannot get hurt, not ever, but especially not because of him....

My heart is in shambles

"I'm sorry. I can't save you. I'm too weak. I'm sorry..."

"Lingling, there's still a mole inside the Door. Take care of yourself."

"I don't care. I just want you to live!"

"Don't worry about me. Have you ever thought that maybe none of this is real? So my death isn't real either. Will you feel better if you think this way?"

"I just want you to live. I just... I just want you to live..."

Crushed to death, what a horrible way to go... Especially knowing that Qiushi was also crushed in the earthquake, so he knows how that must've felt...

The deafening silence.

He's gone.

(or is he?)

:(

[uchihaharlot]

Shisui talking to his child.

Shisui: go tell mom that you want a little sibling😊

Child: But I want a dog🤨

What would Shisui do if he had a child who wanted to remain an only child?

ohhhh nonny.

You and I think a lot a like!! 🥹 Though, and I've said it before and I say it again. You cannot outwit a master manipulator...

NSFW; Shisui being much like a damn kid with his son; what a lucky man; I wish I were his wife; white wine induced writing; ya'll getting blue balled here too 😈

While Shisui is definitely a shinobi with integrity, he regularly barters with his son. Candy, toys...a puppy?? This is a little more than just a simple request from his dear heart little one. And Shisui adores his first born tremendously. Would give up his right so to speak.

That being said, there is a tit for tat he wants to run by his shit grinning kid, as he is asked for a four legged friend. Ultimately he's gonna get the damn puppy regardless, he wants a dog too...but his son is nearly six. Which means Shisui has only bred his wife in theory over the years, and birth control is a real bitch.

'Sounds good pumpkin,' gives his son a charming smile. 'I'll make you a deal.'

Now, Shisui needs to be smart about this. He hasn't necessarily had the talk on the birds and the bees with his boy. His son is essentially a fingerprint of his own genius and Shisui does't really deign going into detail daddy's need to fill mommy with his seed.

'Ok Papa.' Gods his kid is cute, but devious as hell.

'Ask mommy very nicely,' he pauses, thinking appropriately the next words, 'tell her you want a little sibling.'

This damn kid tilts his head, 'why?'

Ok, this is a good time to bitch about kids not doing as they're told. 'Because, just tell her and then we can get a puppy.' Tries not to baby talk his own kid, but he's just so damn cute and menacing. Like his father.

'What if I don't want a sibling?' Little fucker tilts his head, again, but in the opposite direction.

Now, Shisui is not what I would call a desperate man. But with this? He might be. 'If you want the puppy, you need a sibling. Dogs are a lot of care and you're gonna need someone ton help pick up after it when the puppy gets bigger.'

'...Why?' Shisui rubs a palm over his face, and smiles wickedly kind at his patience testing kid.

'Thats how this deal works kiddo.'

'But...' Shisui is forced to listen to little boy ramble off the plethora of peers with animals and no siblings. Even adds that is why most of them have an animal companion to begin with.

It seems luck is not on Shisui's side today. The damn kid is a cock block, not really but, for the love of the gods. If Shisui has to pull out again he's going to impale his forlorn heart on a steak.

Cue his lovely, and adoring wife. They lay in bed. Her reading, Shisui going over some scrolls. Mundane absentminded conversation between the two as they wind down and snuggle into bed.

Silence is usually the last thing Shisui notices before falling asleep, but his wife so sweetly big spoons him. And, well, she's quelled their silence with three simple words whispered at the nape of his neck.

'...a puppy, huh?' Snakes her soft hand over his chest, it only goes lower.

Let's get this straight, Shisui never gets nervous. He faces enemies on a regular basis, but his damn wife asking about the puppy their son begged for earlier didn't fall short on her eager ears. He groans, out of arousal and disbelief that she heard them.

'Heh... You heard all that?' Not so much a nervous chuckle as it was a soft exhale. Her dainty little fingers are already slipping into his pajama pants.

'Only the important parts...'

She needn't say anything else. Shisui was on her before she could even register the two fingers that squelch in her cunt. Goddamn heat seeking fingers. 'So are we getting a puppy?'

When Shisui looks at her like she held all the answers, fingers crooking in soft wet pussy, coaxing her to cum with sharingan eyes. Sexual coercion was his best quality in the bedroom. That and his cock.

'Yea..' Bitch, yea. They're having another baby. Right here, right now. 'Don't even need...to ask.' So beautiful when she's halfway to cumming and wetting his lips with a desperate swipe off her tongue.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Rereading The Fellowship of the Ring for the First Time in Fifteen Years

Holy Foreshadowing, Batman! Gandalf is SUPER psyched to get his ass under a mountain, but literally Gimli and Aragorn are like, "Nah, bro, we are worried about YOU SPECIFICALLY if we do that." And this is after Mom and Dad fought about going up Caradhras and after literally everyone is like, "We are getting super bad vibes from Moria."

But they can't go over the mountains, they can't go around the mountains, and the Gap of Rohan is too close to Isengard, so fuck it, we ball in Moria, I guess. Let's talk chapter 4, "A Journey in the Dark."

Ok, so this is a relatively long chapter (30-odd pages by my math), but wow is it mostly vibes. We start off very defeated by the anti-wizard-and-elf mountain, which makes sense because if you lose the ring bearer to exposure in the first month of travel, you're going down in history as the dingus who lost the last great conflict with Sauron. Again, Boromir is DEEPLY underappreciated as the reason our hobbits survived Caradhras.

After a few pages of back-and-forthing about where to go next, Gandalf is over here pushing Moria HARD, and literally everyone is like, "This does not pass the vibe check, wizard boy." Although Gimli is like, "I could find out what happened to Balin" and Aragorn literally says THIS:

"You followed my lead almost to disaster in the snow and have said no word of blame. I will follow your lead now..."

Because apparently Fellowship leadership operates on phlebotomist rules. If you miss the vein, you let someone else take a shot.

Ultimately, the decision is made because there are goddamn WARGS after the group, and even Boromir accedes that wolves literally on your tail are worse than hypothetical wolves up the road, so we stop arguing about it and hunker down. This gives us time to have a nice little moment with Sam and Pippin though. Poor Pippin is over here like, "I wish I had taken Elrond's advice [...], I am no good after all. [...] I don't remember ever feeling so wretched, " but Sam is coming in clutch with "Honestly same, but Gandalf isn't going to let us get eaten by wolves." Which like...yeah, I accept that, and it's way more comforting than a generic "there, there." I also appreciate that Sam admits he's scared too. It's like how hearing, "Oh god, I haven't started that either" is so comforting for stressed-out students.

What neither I nor the fellowship love though, is the wolves literally sniffing around their campfire that night. There are literally glowing eyes in the dark, howls on the wind, and a goddamn warg silhouette in the gap between stones. And an arrow through the throat of one warg buys the group some measure of peace until the moon sets. Once the moon sets though, we get a pre-dawn warg attack:

In the leaping light as the fresh wood blazed up, Frodo saw many grey shapes spring over the ring of stones. More and more followed. Through the throat of one huge leader Aragorn passed his sword with a thrust; with a great sweep Boromir hewed the head off another. Gimli stood with his stout legs apart, wielding his dwarf-axe. The bow of Legolas was singing.

The battle scenes in these books read SUPER Beowulf, but are somehow briefer. Tolkien was super not here for contemporary battle scene writing; it's very much painting with watercolors. He gives you the odd detail or two and you pretty much get to fill in the rest yourself. Which is fine, and holy cow can I see where that would inspire Robert Jordan's manner of naming sword forms rather than describing an actual duel (which is not shade, I think Jordan does that really damn well and to excellent effect). But then we get Gandalf doing wizardy things in a really...unusual way?

In the wavering firelight Gandalf seemed suddenly to grow: he rose up, a great menacing shape like the monument of some ancient king of stone set upon a hill. Stooping like a cloud, he lifted a burning branch and strode to meet the wolves. They gave back before him. High in the air he tossed the burning brand, It flared with a sudden white radiance like lightning; and his voice rolled like thunder.

This hearkens back both to "Gandalf the fireworks wizard" who we meet in the Shire, but also to the little moment in Bag End where Gandalf goes wizard on Bilbo to snap him out of his Ring moment. It also is not like...wildly dissimilar to how they teach you to scare bears off in the wild: Get big and loud and look intimidating. We were not supposed to then set a goddamn forest fire--that's a little scorched earth for Alaskan survival techniques--but it was one of those moments where the familiar was made pointedly exotic, and I actually thought it was quiet effective. You take the foundation of something real and then you add a bit of wizard to it. Then things feel sufficiently grounded, but also with just that extra bit of wizard to heighten EVERYTHING. The subtlety (and yeah, I know, forest fire and lightning isn't subtle, but the way this is written is and how it functions is) is really quite impressive. That said...Gandalf, honey. Maybe not with the ecological disasters???

At the very least, the wargs were polite enough to evaporate so they didn't have to deal with any of the bodies when the sun came up.

After that, we haul ass off to the Doors of Durin. It's not a good journey though. Right from the start, the Sirannon wasn't where it was supposed to be, the landscape is lifeless and desolate, and when we do finally find the stream, it's a freaking trickle. If the IDEA of Moria didn't pass the vibe check, then the landscape on the trip in is a parade of red flags. And again, Boromir is SUPER ON POINT with not wanting to get caught between a stone wall and a bunch of wolves. This place is all quiet unease and red flags. Even the freaking WATER is gloomy and unwholesome-looking.

And then we get a WEIRD FLEX moment for Gandalf:

"I am sorry," said Gandalf. "Poor Bill has been a useful companion, and it goes to my heart to turn him adrift now. I would have travelled lighter and brought no animal, least of all this one that Sam is fond of, if I had had my way. I feared all along that we should be obliged to take this road."

Like, I believe he's genuinely sorry to have to hurt Sam and to turn the goodest pony loose. But it's the "if I had had my way" and the last sentence where I'm just like...Gandalf. Sir. Why are you bitching to Frodo that you have to share leadership on this mission? And why are you flexing an "I told you so" on Frodo instead of, IDK, Aragorn??? Is it because Aragorn would kick your wizened wizard ass for it? Because I'd watch that.

Also, again with Gandalf being weirdly open with, aware of, and as solicitous as possible to Sam. He has zero problems kicking Pippin when he's down (as we'll see in a bit in this very goddamn chapter), but he's always been very straight yet compassionate with Sam in a way that doesn't even match how this wizard treats Frodo. Like, we are almost getting to a point where I need to go see what the Tolkien scholars have written about the Sam-Gandalf relationship, because it's getting NOTICEABLY unique and it has gotten a fair number of little moments at this point. Like...what is this relationship and why is this the dynamic? I demand to know.

I also just want to take a second to highlight something DEEPLY inequitable as they round the lake to the door:

When they came to the northernmost corner of the lake they found a narrow creek that barred their way. It was green and stagnant, thrust out like a slimy arm toward the enclosing hills. Gimli strode forward undeterred, and found that the water was shallow, no more than ankle-deep at the edge. Behind him they walked in fie, threading their way with care, for under the weedy pools were sliding and greasy stones, and footing was treacherous. Frodo shuddered with disgust at the touch of the dark unclean water on his feet.

THE HOBBITS DONT WEAR SHOES. Everyone else has boots to act as something of a barrier to this gross-ass water, but the hobbits have to tromp through it BAREFOOT. Did NOBODY think, "oh shit, this will be super unpleasant for the hobbits, maybe we should yeet or carry them?" Apparently not, and honestly now they're just gonna have gross feet as they tromp through Moria and I hate that for their poor hobbit toesies. And as a WWI soldier, TOLKIEN SHOULD KNOW THE DANGERS OF WET, MUCKETY FEET.

But then we actually get to the doors--finally--and Sam has a deeply understandable moment when Gandalf tells him they have to cut Bill loose, and Gimli and Legolas try to start world war 2.5 over Elf-Dwarf relations before Gandalf tells them to knock that shit off.

Everyone is super over everything at this point, and I cannot blame them.

But where Gandalf has zero time for Legolas and Gimli sniping at each other, he takes the time to speak over Bill and give him his best shot at getting home safely. Again, I do not get the relationship between Gandalf and Sam. I appreciate the care for the pony, but whatever the Gandalf-Sam thing is, it's more than just trolling Pippin or ensuring that Frodo makes it to the volcano or ignoring Merry's existence for the most part.

Literally, Pippin gets a "Knock on the door with your head" from Gandalf, and once the damn thing IS open, Merry just gets a casual, "Merry, of all people, was on the right track" before Gandalf pulls ANOTHER weird flex and says "Too simple for a learned lore-master in these suspicious days." Like...ok, sure, Gandalf. You were TOO SMART to get the riddle.

But we get the doors open just in time for Frodo to get nabbed by a metric frick-ton of tentacles. Sam yoinks him back and they haul ass through the door, which get slammed behind them and the tentacle monster bolts it behind them with boulders and trees. After which we get THIS little gem from Gandalf:

"I fear from the sounds that boulders have been piled up and trees uprooted and thrown across the gate. I am sorry; for the trees were beautiful, and had stood so long."

SIR. I was THERE when you burned a flaming doughnut into the land to get rid of the wargs. You are a walking ecological disaster and do not get to high ground the tentacle monster ripping up a few trees by the roots. You probably burned more LAST NIGHT. I know it's unfair to expect characters to know the genre of the book they're in, and by extension its equally unfair to expect them to know the themes of the book they're in. That said though...I WATCHED YOU START A FOREST FIRE, GANDALF. This is not the moment to suddenly discover ecocriticism.

At any rate, we have FINALLY made it inside Moria. Boromir is (rightfully) quite pissed off an apprehensive about this, but Gandalf is like, "Gimli and I will lead the way!" before they manage to get the party fucking lost and Sam is bitching about not having rope. Because oh my god there is SO MUCH atmospheric walking in this book. And most of the time the atmosphere is "vaguely evil with a healthy helping of depression." Which...yeah, that's what we get here.

So it makes sense that Gandalf is SUPER FUCKING OVER IT when Pippin yeets a rock down a well and they hear hammer blows from the deeps. And it makes even more sense when Gandalf realizes he's apparently also experiencing withdrawal symptoms because he hasn't had a smoke since before they started climbing Caradhras. So he non-apologizes to Pippin, lights up, and everything looks better in the morning...sort of. At least the wizard is less grumpy, and he has now firmly established himself as that member of the party who needs to be properly self-cared or he will make it EVERYONE ELSE'S PROBLEM. Seriously, what a goddamn diva.

But getting himself a wee bit of a smoke made it so he could make a decision and they headed up to where the air smelled good. So fair enough.

Then we have EVEN MORE atmospheric walking, and Sam picks up some dwarven lore via Gimli singing a song all about Moria and Khazad-dum, and I swear, the hobbit is going to be a lore-master himself by the end of this journey.

This chapter is also where we get a bit of a mithril infodump, which is pretty cool just in general. We also get Frodo having delayed sticker-shock because he's just casually waltzing around with a whole-ass shirt of mithril on. That's also a nice little reminder to all the readers that hey, remember that Frodo has this thing? I betcha it's going to be important soon.

We end the chapter on the SUPER downer note of finding Balin's tomb, and the dwarves now have their (not unexpected) answer to what happened to the party from thirty-odd years ago. Which is really sad, frankly.

That's also about where we're going to leave this chapter, because I am...exhausted by all the atmospheric walking. We will pick up next time with a relatively short chapter, and hopefully there is more to it than infodumping and atmospheric walking.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

I am absolutely stuck on the dynamic between Brighid, Arthur, Alfred, and Jack rn. They're both Arthur's sons, but Jack was hers to raise first and she contributed to Alfred's upbringing too, and they may as well be hers with all the people they're getting from her, and that's happening because of Arthur's policies. And Arthur, for his part, parents them based on vague memories of his mother - but you've said a lot of those are actually Brighid.

Point of all that being, would you mind expanding on the early part of Arthur and Brighid's relationship, before he became a colonizing shithead? What are these memories with her that he's attributing to their mother? How did that relationship influence his parenting (both the things that he's aware were Brighid and the things that he thinks were mum but were actually Brighid?)

Okay so just to preface this so no one starts reading this like they do my more modern things where I can usually have a basis in fairly accepted and confirmable fact, we’re going so far back that not only is this not chronologically accurate, its only archaeologically plausible. This is the literary version of saying, "it's for ceremonial purposes” on the label of an artefact anyone with courage would call a prehistoric bong. There’s a big trend for “History of X in 100 Objects” right now. In my personal collection is a 'History of Ireland in 100 objects.' I’m not saying this is accurate or realistic. However, it is based on historical themes that lend themselves to what is ultimately a historical fantasy as plausible as I can write it. That said, let's crack this can of fuckery.

So, to start out, this is all pre-1066, which is when, after the Norman invasions of England, Wales, and and Southern Scotland, the history of the British in Ireland begins. Before that, we’re talking about a world where Irish raiders are a menace on the Welsh coast, and the Dál Riada is the result of an Irish migration, where the peoples on the Irish Coast brought Gaelic culture and eventually merged with and overtook the Pictish culture already occupying the area. The balance of power is very different in this world. This is not the 18th and 19th century when Brighid is firmly under the heel of a British jackboot and even when the British government was willing to concede slightly on empire, the British army nearly revolted when it was even considered to maybe, perhaps, rein in unionist violence in nineteen-fourteen just months shy of WW1. Winston Churchill was also behind that, in case you need more reasons why he's an allmighty cunt.

I give them all Celtic roots. Brighid is probably 300-500 years older than Alasdair, and then political solidification in Wales brought Rhys along and then Arthur as the reorganization of Celtic Britons in Roman Britain. This might be a hot take, but while the Anglo-Saxon ‘invasion’ in the 400s-500s brought Germanic rule and language to England, the Cumbrians and other Celts were not wiped out. Mostly it's a cultural shift. So he’s born as much a Celt as his siblings and experiences dramatic changes earlier in his life than they do. However, if you get to the root of English culture under all of the bullshit of empire and all the German royalty who built up their legitimacy by reviving Anglo-Saxon memory, history has more Celtic elements than someone might think.

In Northern England, Southern Scotland, Eastern Ireland, and the maritime fringes of Wales, there was an Iron Age tribe by the name of the Brigantes, whose name was taken from the northern goddess Brigantia, which means either ‘the exalted’ or ‘highlanders.’ Either way works for me because it is the root word of Brighid’s name, the Welsh word for prestige, honour, dignity and power, all things connected to fire, power and elevation. As all modern knowledge of her comes from 8 inscriptions and some statuary material, and her name is so goddamn appropriate, I’m running with it. It’s so close to Brittania. According to Strabo, writing about a now-lost account of a Greek sailor and explorer Pytheas, it comes from a feminine name likely from the Celts itself.

In the tradition of Catholic patron saints of specific places, Brigantia seems to have been a goddess associated with lakes, rivers, and coastlines. Saint Brighid, from the same name base, is the patron saint of Ireland, bastard children, babies, children, midwives, sailors and poets. Me, hitting a bong in 2021; yeah, that sounds like mother and daughter to me. Eirian, whose name is a version of the Welsh name for King Arthur’s mother because I’m ✨original✨ ruled her own kingdom directly. She was a queen regnant in a culture that saw that crop up often. She was a product of the Iron Age, a warrior culture where swords and a hierarchy of militancy ruled society. Brighid was her firstborn child, and very much her mother’s daughter, sharing that long, beautiful hibernian gold (think rose gold) hair down to her waist. She was tall and gorgeous, with a head for politics as well as martial talent, but Eirian was as much a goddess of the hearth as the sea and war; she still took her tributes in blood, and treasure. She ruled directly with iron and faith.

Brighid, however, while just as capable of that, had a personality that found early Christianity very appealing. It’s hard for us to imagine now, but 1,500-2,000 years ago, Christianity was, in many ways, a much gentler religion than some flavours of what we now call paganism. And while just as capable at every aspect of ruling as her mother, I do think Brighid has aspects to her personality that were kinder, a bit softer. She was an artist in the scriptoriums, a weaver, all these things in her golden age. And she was grown, or near it, by the time Arthur came along. And the gentlest things he remembers about his mother are usually Brighid. An image of a woman weaving, red hair pouring down her back as her fingers fly over the shuttle and her feet work the treadles. That is Brighid. Another of a woman’s elegant and quick fingers on the spindle, fitting the handle into a clumsy child’s hands, laughing when he gets frustrated. Also Brighid. Picking him up and giving him a raspberry even when he kicks to be let down because he wants to run everywhere, is also Brighid. Teaching him to put his knife into the kidney because he’s young, and that's the highest he can reach? That’s his mother. The two images, his powerful mother and his bright sister swirl together when Arthur gets into a strange mood.

He'll yammer away in Cumbrian and hum the tune of the songs who's words he cant remember. When she died in the 5th or 6th century, they scattered as their various regions expanded and solidified linguistically as Common Bythronic became Welsh, Gaelic, and Cumbrian (Scotland’s native Celtic language is actually extinct, replaced by Irish Gaelic in late antiquity.) England imploded under the pressure of the Germanic migrations, so I picture Arthur kind of wandering through his numerous kingdoms most of the year. Brighid may have, too. It was common for high-status people to go on progress and stay with the nobility from time to time in various European societies. However, I can also see her with her own mini-kingdom inside the Gaelic system of ranking kings, over kings and high kings. Arthur would usually spend the winter with one of his siblings. Usually Rhys, but he would have been welcome with Brighid for a long time, even as the wee cuckoo, half-German bastard that he was. He may have even lived with her for long periods. But once, she was power, and once she loved him and once he wasn't the cause of all the horror of her years. It was a different world before the Vikings came.

[no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist]

fhh spoilers

I'm Only Me When I'm With you is very Philas but also Silas and Orion from Silas's pov because:

"In London Silas used to spend hours upon hours having the most inane conversations with Orion. They would sit in the study during the half-hazy evening hours, their heads tipped up at the ceiling, books open on the floor under the guise of completing their coursework. His unflinching friendship with Orion was what kept him sane. Orion would talk about his family. Silas would talk about his. The difference was, terribly, that Silas missed them more and more with each passing year, but Orion had started to notice that something wasn't quite right with his.

...

'My mother is not like yours,' Orion said once. The stars were bright that night. Easily tracible for their constellations. 'She cares for me in a way that seems like there is an ultimate purpose. Like I mustn't slip, or else some invisible strike will be made against me on a scoreboard I cannot see.'

'I'm sure you're imagining it,' Silas had returned. 'It makes more sense that you are imagining it than it would if it were true.'

Orion had hummed. Then, simply: 'I do think you're right.'

...

Silas had wondered, over the years, if maybe it was Orion he was in love with instead. Maybe Phoebe was only a stand-in until Silas could digest the minutiae of every feeling that lived inside of him. He was certainly invested enough in his best friend to ensure his health and heart and happiness. It would make sense when he knew everything there was to know about Orion. Phoebe, on the other hand . . . well, he knew plenty about her, too, but there was always something harder to reach.

The more he had mused on that possibility, however, the more he knew it wasn't true. As much as he had the capability to be in love with Orion—despite the fact that Orion was a goddamn menace—his attitude toward his best friend was that of family. He wanted to offer his help until the end of time. He regarded Orion as one of his favorite people, the one who smoothed over the pit of emptiness that opened inside Silas every once in a while."

[kiwibirdlafayette]

hello my sillies!! since there was a bit of interest in more ab the nonsense that is my take on godswap mianite AU i went and dug up some of the brainrot I wrote last year but never shared outside of a private discord server + new stuff that I've recently came up with :D Enjoy! ❤️

- Jordan was born to parents who are priests of Mianite and raised in the temple- and ultimately was meant to be Mia's champion, and was trained as such for the majority of his life. However, being around mianite for most of his life made him cynical of the god and his principles, and went he got older, he left to seek out the god's brother, pledging himself to Dianite and wanting to bring about chaos. Amused and flattered by the man's near blind loyalty, Dia makes Jordan his champion

- His primary weapon is a firework crossbow gifted to him by Dianite himself (has piercing 8, mending, quick charge and unbreaking V (and flame on it, for use with arrows)) Plays off the sparkly and the fact that this man is a goddamn amazing sharpshooter no matter what universe he's in

- Mianite instead finds his champion in Tom Syndicate, the formerly deceased son of lighthouse keepers in the realm- and is brought back to life by the god (Mia never explains why specifically Tom was chosen, is described to people as just a "godly omnipotence" kinda thing)

- Shortly after Jordan, Tom, and the priests (aka FyreUK, with Wag and Matt under Dia, K.Tom under Mia) arrive and start making a mess of the realm with their shenanigans, a pirate ship captained by a 4th priest named BruteAlmighty "Phil" and two people- a parrot shapeshifter by the name of Sonja OmgitsVoidparrot and Tucker Jeriicho (normal human... allegedly)

- Sonja and Tucker both grew up in Ianarea, and with Phil's arrival from the End, have been searching across the realm for their missing goddess, and their messages led them to the Spawn Island (which I wish was canonically named istg) where supposedly a ruins containing information is hiding (Jordan and Tom both claim they know where this is. they dont)

- When Sonja was younger she was named Ianite's champion at a ceremony in Ianarea and was gifted her shapeshifting abilities as a way to hide from forces of evil and get into places more secretly

- Idk how canonically Nadeshot/The Modesteps enter the realm in character but basically at some point a flying ship appears and from it drops Captain Engine Failure and Skipper Coppereyes, more Dianitees (probably there to mess with Jordan) because Dianite having the most members is hilarious to me

(I got an ask about EF so I'll elaborate on her dynamic with everyone in a separate post >:] But bottom line put two chaos makers and an explosives enthusiast (Copper) in the same room it never ends well xD)

- I'm still thinking on this but with FyreUK, their priestlyness was given to them as a group due to the presence of the shadows from the get-go. When the Darkness began encroaching, the gods all sought out their respective priests and gifted them with powers to protect their respective domains (Dianite took in two- one to look over his temple in the nether, one to keep in the overworld because. chaos agenda- that one's Wag) and guide their champions when they found them

- Wag takes Dec's place by this logic i guess, he lives by the nether portal and will be anyone's personal tour guide because he likes doin it. and yes he absolutely uses any excuse to mess with people to mess with people he can be a menace a lot if he wants to

- Also Dec is a Wizard, I haven't developed him yet (he also has no design dont worry about it) but yes. Mans took on Athar himself he's just built different

- Syndisparklez and Foxxsize agenda always love me a good enemies to friends to lovers kinda shit. most of it is Capsize/EF flirting horribly with Sonja (and her not sure how to reciprocate but wants to) and Tom and Jordan with their usual "i fucking hate you i wish you were dead (read: i want to kiss you so bad)"

[quirkthieves]

if you told bakugou katsuki a few months ago, after valentine’s and white day, that he’d be facing his ultimate moment of gay crisis in history, he’d have laughed at your face.  because-  it would’ve been inconceivable for him to hold any positive feelings for monoma neito.

the same boy he’s claimed as a war criminal.  the same boy he’s held the strongest animosity for since they crossed paths in the sports festival.  the same boy that finds even the most well-hidden nerves and fucking tap dances on them, like he’s a master of being the ultimate menace, and to katsuki specifically.

it’s undeniable:  monoma neito drives him up a fucking wall.

and has ended up his motherfucking crush.

ignoring whatever the hell that might say about him  -  because who the fuck ends up liking a little bastard like that anyway?  -  katsuki’s spent the past…  week?  two weeks?  however long, coming to terms with this newfound information about himself.  and his feelings.  his stupid, obnoxious, annoying feelings, of which he would much prefer to crush in his hand and go on with his day, instead of actually…

oh god.  he’s really standing in front of the class b dorms, and he’s really going to demand to see monoma, and he’s deadass going to own up to it.

katsuki almost considers turning around and marching away.  he actually did turn around, only for one of the other class b members to query his presence.  that earns a low curse, a deep breath, and;  “monoma.  where the hell is he?  and for the love of all that’s fucking holy, he better be alone.”

he imagines the glare he gives indicates that he might just fucking kill monoma when he’s brought to the other blond.  more so when he drags him off to somewhere more secluded than where they were, though his hands don’t pop with explosions.  even more so when he practically shoves neito in the little nook away from prying eyes, hand awkwardly wiping on pants, and-  ugh.  he can feel red tinging his ears.

no matter how he does this, he’s going to hate the sound of it.

he can feel heart against his ribs, tightness in his throat.  if neito’s asking what’s his deal, katsuki can’t form the words yet  -  just trying to steady his breathing first, then trying to sort his thoughts into something…  reasonable sounding.

what the fuck is reasonable?  katsuki pushes his fringe back.  “you’re not uttering a fucking word of this to anyone.”

…  though he has a feeling a certain lizard girl might hear about it anyway.

“don’t get it twisted:  i find you fucking annoying.  you drive me up a goddamn wall and make me want to strangle you alive, every fucking day.”  a pause.  “...  but despite my better judgement, i have-  the stupid heart flutters, stomach flips, all that weird shit.  and yes, i waited ages to make sure i wasn’t getting that wrong, so shut the fuck up and just accept that i-”

the pressure is getting to him already.  he would’ve shoved a letter at him and called it a day, but the last thing he needed was for monoma neito to have written proof to parade around.  (besides, his writing is still…  subpar.)

but now his hands are all clammy, and he’s getting flustered.  sparks fly from heated palms while he tries to recollect himself.

which is not working.  “i fucking like you, okay?  i like you, and i don’t know what i wanna fucking do about it, but i can’t just fucking sit there with the stupid fucking feeling, and-  fuck you.  fuck you for making me feel like this.”  because that is something you should accuse your crush of.  “you mention this to anyone if it ain’t reciprocated, and you’re so fucking dead, you hear me?”

also totally something you tell your crush.

but he is, unfortunately, very serious  -  cheeks tinged red and ears matching, gaze averted, and hands now balling into fists to hide the sputtering of sparks.

It was far from the first time Monoma had been dragged out somewhere by Bakugo, but certainly the first that piqued his curiosity like this one.

After all, he hadn't done anything recently (relatively, that is) to piss him off. But Bakugo looked like he was on the verge of exploding, and the way he was practically manhandled into a far corner of the dorms didn't help. But Bakugo... wasn't his usual brand of angry. Or any brand of angry that Monoma recognized on him, really.

Which he soon discovered was because he wasn't, at least not at Monoma. Bakugo's fidgeting, he's flustered-- Monoma wouldn't be surprised if he started pouring smoke from his ears. Instead,

“i fucking like you, okay?  i like you, and i don’t know what i wanna fucking do about it, but i can’t just fucking sit there with the stupid fucking feeling, and-  fuck you.  fuck you for making me feel like this. you mention this to anyone if it ain’t reciprocated, and you’re so fucking dead, you hear me?”

It seems that that rage-filled embodiment of a short fuse... had subverted his expectations, yet again. Of course, externally, for a long moment, all Monoma can do is stare. Not bemused, not even judgemental; just staring, processing the series of words that had been thrown at him. After all, he had, once, been in a similar situation with Bakugo. But that had been a mixup, wrapped in the distance of a month between holidays, and Monoma wracking his brain to try and figure out how to gently let him down, because there was no way he could ever like that guy!

But here, now, months later (even after that awful birthday surprise, which Monoma now could admit was a little funny), there was something different. Watching Bakugo stammer over explaining the feelings of a crush, trying to wipe off his palms so they didn't spark too conspicuously-- the fact he had even dragged Monoma out at all, acting his usual bullyish self before folding under the burn of flustered cheeks, and then, still, trying to keep up the act...

He's cute! He's really, really cute!

Monoma's hand goes up to his own mouth to cover his reaction, brows twitching slightly. Watching Bakugo go for a threat before averting his eyes and hiding away his explosions,

He's adorable! Quintessential gap moe!

It felt like a missing piece had slotted into the puzzle that was their dynamic over the past few months. Sure, he had always loved getting a rise out of Bakugo. Sure, he had always felt like he could really be himself with Bakugo, as odd as it sounded. After all, it's not like he was trying to get his approval (or trying to make him fall in love). But what the confusing, clipped Valentine's Day gift had lacked was Bakugo himself, making Monoma's heart pound with his puffed out cheeks and nervous shuffle. No matter what had been said or done before, Monoma's mind was made up.

He absolutely has to see that face more!

Re-gathering his composure, Monoma clears his throat, pretending he was just tapping his chin in contemplation.

"Mm, let me think on this..." He says, as if his mind wasn't already made. He just wanted to make Bakugo squirm; and, after he had tormented him enough with roaming eyes and contemplative hums, Monoma shrugs and gives him a smug smile.

"Well, this makes us dating, right? I hope you're ready. I'm high maintenance."

He's just hoping Bakugo didn't notice how pink his own face was.

[handoverthekawaii]

We Go Together | Homelander x You | Chapter 19

Taglist: @hom3landr @theaudacitytowrite @lover1307

Translucent is in the middle of a sentence when John jumps to his feet, his hands clenched into fists and his eyes glowing red. The members of The Seven know that their leader can be short-tempered from time to time, but this goes far beyond a harsh word or an angry outburst. The level of all-consuming fury that John is projecting is literally off the charts.

“I didn’t think my idea was THAT stupid,” Translucent mumbles to himself before Queen Maeve raises a hand to silence him.

“Homelander,” she says. “What is it?”

John turns to look at Maeve at the sound of his name. For a moment he’s too overcome to speak, his mouth opening and closing as his expression changes from enraged to vulnerable to terrified. He turns away from the table towards the window — maybe if John’s teammates can’t see his face, they won’t realize how close he is to spiraling out of control.

“It’s Y/N L/N,” he replies at last. “…Vought took her away, and now Jonah Vogelbaum has her.”

There, he said it — and already the grim reality of the situation begins to set in. Vought has multiple black sites on the East Coast of the U.S. alone and, for all he knows, they could be moving you right now to North Africa or Southeast Asia. Tracking you down will be like finding a needle in a haystack, but when he does — because he WILL, John isn’t going to rest until he finds you — who knows what Vought will have done to you?

You might be hurt, traumatized, a shell of your former self. Or worse — maybe Vought will do what Homelander couldn’t, and innovate a unique and sadistic way to take your life.

And it will all be John’s fault, for loving you so much that he allowed you to endanger yourself just by being near him. If any harm comes to you, it will be the ultimate sin, a burden John will carry for the rest of his mortal life and into eternity.

No — It will be Vought’s fault, John thinks to himself, baring his teeth as his self-loathing morphs back into explosive rage. He resolves to himself:

If any harm comes to Y/N, I will burn this company to the fucking ground.

John is so intensely dissociating that he hardly realizes what is happening around him until a hand makes contact with his shoulder. How long has he been standing at the head of the table like this? He has no idea, but he glances over to see Queen Maeve now standing alongside him.

“Let’s find her,” she says. Maeve doesn’t understand the significance of Y/N being held by Jonah Vogelbaum, of course — she knows nothing about Compound V or the past experiments John endured — but, to her, the details don’t matter.

John cares about Y/N, and Vought is trying to keep them apart. But The Seven are Maeve’s chosen family, and she won’t stand for anyone messing with her family’s happiness. However, in spite of her good intentions (and perhaps because he’s amped on adrenaline), John’s initial reaction is to forcefully brush away her hand.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” he orders, his voice low and menacing. “I can get Madelyn talking without any of your help.”

“Don’t waste your time with Madelyn,” another voice calls out. Both John and Maeve look over at the speaker, who turns out to be Lamplighter.

“Vogelbaum lives nearby, so the list of places he could take your girl QUICKLY is pretty goddamn short,” the pyrokinetic Supe continues. “So don’t tip Vought off about anything you know — just go get her back already.”

“Lamplighter’s right,” Maeve says, “but you shouldn’t go alone. Take me with you.”

Rushing fills John’s ears and his mind is a cacophony of emotions and anxieties, so it takes him a minute to register what Maeve said. The jaded, cynical part of him can hardly believe it — she wants to help? Not just her, either — Lamplighter gives enough of a shit that he’s helping John strategize?

John felt alone his whole life until he met you… but maybe, even before that, he wasn’t as alone as he always thought. There’s no time to dwell on this revelation now, though, so John merely cocks his head at Maeve and asks, “You want to come?” [continued on AO3]

[alister312]

Sup alister my buddy pal chum it’s pitch and I’ve been having some Corey lanskin brain rot and I wanna know about your thoughts/headcannons on him, Gregory, and Christophe as a silly lil trio cause yes they are goddamn madmen

PITCH YOU HAVE COME AT THE MOST OPPORTUNE TIME BC I’VE ACTUALLY BEEN THINKING ABOUT COREGSTOPHE A LOT LATELY

firstly— Corey thoughts/headcanons:

Corey is a bit younger than the other boys, I think about the same age as Dougie. Because of this, he feels a bit alienated from the rest of them (not quite in on all the same growing up experiences) so he’s very sardonic in everything he says and does, twelves layers deep in irony. This does alienate him further usually but he LIKES being a little shit (or so he says). He’s a lot nicer and more genuine when talking through a screen, funny enough, which is why his closest friends are those he games with. Corey spends most of his free time streaming (he has a Twitch channel— it’s unsuccessful) or doing freelance coding/hacking gigs. That boy is terminally online. He’s got the worst fucking posture and bags under his eyes and greasy-ass hair <3 go shower stinky gamer boy

now specifically when it comes to him, Gregory, and Christophe:

Neither Gregory nor Christophe is very technically adept. Christophe finds the minutia of coding unrewarding and therefore frustrating while Gregory hates the impersonal nature of technology. They used to ask Kyle to help them with stuff but Kyle’s busy with his own life so they ended up working with Corey instead. This turns out to be really good because Gregory and Christophe are very insightful people who can see through all of Corey’s bullshit and meet him at the same level of sardonic wit (and lowbrow humor in Christophe’s case). Corey and Gregory often have debates about real world issues and politics but Gregory teaches him how to have a real, civil debate (not like ones in twitter threads). They also appreciate having a fellow Brit around, though Corey mocks Gregory for having a posh accent compared to his Cockney one.

Corey and Christophe get along especially well, both of them kind of enabling the other’s gremlin behavior. Gregory keeps them from being absolute menaces to society but they do like to just dick around and do stupid shit. Corey teaches Christophe how to properly roast someone online and Christophe gets Corey outside for once in his goddamn life. He brings Christophe on his Minecraft stream at one point and Christophe spends the whole time talking about dirt and digging techniques. Additionally, they bond a lot about smoking but Corey weens himself off of it using lollipops and eventually convinced Christophe to do the same. Gregory privately thanks Corey for that a lot— it’s something he’d always wanted Christophe to quit but could never get through to him about.

And while I do love the idea of all three of them possibly together (the order of that being first gregstophe, then corstophe, then coregstophe), I do also LOVE the idea of Corey being the ultimate third wheel to Gregory and Christophe’s relationship. In that case the three of them have these sorts of vibes:

anyways thx for coming to my ted talk on why everyone should love minor character corey lanskin and thank u pitch for giving me the excuse to write it all down like I’ve been wanting to do for a while

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

plural hinata is funny as hell to me, like i know some ppl think it takes away from the story and is bad rep (what with the evil alter etc) but i still find it very funny to me bc i just imagine kamukura randomly rickrolls hinata while he goes abt his day as his dose of enrichment

I personally don't think its necessarily bad rep, it can turn into it, but most plural hajime content has izuru more of just a very annoying cat then any actual threat as he's been satisfied and sees no real reason to cause further harm. I love him being an absolute menace to Hajime, it's so goddamn funny.

Also I think keeping Izuru around helps hammer in the themes of making your own future no matter the consequence may be. You can't run from the future, from getting up and going again, not even Izuru can. The ultimate unmovable object forced to finally bend.