#i should add that you have the misfortune to be my friend and having or not but especially not seen a piece of media i have been into

[percervall]

it's a bad idea (fuck it, it's fine) — part 2

Summary: your housemates give you an offer you can't refuse. What's the worst that could happen? Pairing: Jenson Button x fem!reader, Fernando Alonso x fem!reader, Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: discussions around consent Word count: 827

Part 2 of the Fuck It series

Pushing the plate away from you, you lean back in the chair as you rest the coffee mug on the knee that’s pulled up to your chest. You’re lucky that Fernando is also more of a coffee person and quickly learnt just how you like yours once you moved in. Sometimes you still wonder how on God’s green earth you ended up being roommates with some of motorsports finest. 

Looking around the table, you can’t help but smile as they tease each other about something that happened during the last race. Jenson laughs at Fernando’s misfortune although he is quick to sympathise seeing as they’re in the same boat with regards to their cars being nowhere near Mercedes or even Sebastian’s Ferrari. For as long as you’ve known him, Jenson has always been easy going. His teasing and generally positive attitude is what led to the two of you becoming friends in the first place. And because of that friendship, you became a lot closer to Fernando as well when he rejoined McLaren. The two of them had an easy partnership, both on and off the track, and whenever you joined a race, Jenson made sure to include you in their conversations. Somehow being friends with both of them also meant you got to know Mark a lot better, and in turn Sebastian as well. The Aussie had retired from the sport well before you met Jenson, but he remained a constant in the paddock with his punditry job for Channel4. And from what you were told, the German driver had mellowed out since his RedBull days. The four of them seem to have such a deep understanding of each other, they work together seamlessly. Apparently even more so than you had expected.

And therein also lies the problem. Because while sharing seems to be somewhat normal for them, it makes you wonder where that leaves you in this arrangement. Would it always be like this morning, where they’re all involved in one way or another? How can you make sure it’s equal? Would they take turns? The thought alone has you swallowing thickly as your mind whirls with fantasies. 

“Are you okay, doll?” Jenson’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah. Just-.. Just thinking,” you reply, taking another sip from your now luke-warm coffee. The men share a look that you decide to ignore as you down what’s left of your coffee.

“I don’t regret this morning,” you say, worried they will misinterpret your hesitancy.

“But?” Sebastian fills in for you.

“But it leaves me with. Questions,” you add, not making eye contact. 

“You can ask us anything, sweetheart,” Mark says gently and Jenson gives your knee a squeeze. Taking a moment to gather your thoughts you look out of the window.

“I guess the biggest question I have is how will this work? If we’re really gonna do this, if I’m gonna-.. Will it always be one on one or-.. Or will everyone be involved?” Something like desire swoops low in your stomach as you voice the latter part of the question and you can feel your cheeks heat up. 

“That is very much up to you, sweetheart,” Mark says, as the other three nod in agreement.

“We should have some sort of system, like to check if you’re okay with whatever will happen,” Sebastian offers, “do you have a safe word already?”

“A safe word? I-.. No, my ex wasn’t one for anything other than missionary and the occasional oral,” you confess, stomach in knots at the implications of maybe having to use a safe word. 

“I use traffic light system, very easy to follow and understand,” Fernando comments. Your imagination runs wild with all the possible scenarios in which Fernando would use this system.

“Hey, it’s just a way to make sure it’s fun and pleasurable for everyone,” Jenson says quietly, picking up on the way your head is going about a mile a minute. You nod, taking a deep breath. The longer you think about it, the more sense it makes. Having this in place will make sure, like Jenson said, that everyone is having a good time. You had just never considered that you are allowed to check in and see whether you’re okay with what’s about to happen. While it never felt like you didn’t have a choice in your previous relationship, consent was not something that was actively discussed; It was just always assumed. And in hindsight you maybe let him get away with blurring more boundaries than you had realised. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense,” you say, relaxing back into the chair. 

“Like Mark said, whatever we do, it’s up to you,” Sebastian reiterates. You nod in understanding once more, the knot in your stomach untangling slowly. You had trusted them enough to be roommates for the last year and a half without them overstepping a boundary or taking advantage of you. They care, you think, they’re not him. Fernando presses a kiss to your temple as he pours you another cup.

“It’ll be fun, nena,” he says with a wicked glint in his eyes, and the implications have you clenching your thighs together. Something tells you Fernando could very well be right. 

A smaller part to establish the relationship between the five of them a little bit more and to set things up for what's to come 👀

Feel free to let me know what you think (or any ideas you have for this series), your comments, tags, and likes means the world to me 💜

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[fxshigurosbae]

THE STRICT MAN . . .

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ toji fushiguro (40) x f!reader (18)

✶ mature content (minors do not interact) — pseudo!incest, step!cest, school!girl, virginity, dumbification, size kink, pet names, discipline, fingering, cunnilingus, humiliation, squirting, corruption, daddy kink, dilf, age gap, jealousy, manhandling, strong language.

this one is quite problematic and i apologize for it, deal with it however you want to i guess . . .

taglist | masterlist

a sweet eighteen year old high school girl. she is going back home, wearing the school’s cute uniform — on her way back to her step-daddy and older step-bro’s home, and mommy nowhere to be seen. the rules are pretty simple: she can’t have a boyfriend, she has strict curfew, no guy friends. yet, she’s extremely pampered, spoiled, and innocent… that’s you, you’re toji fushiguro’s cute step-daughter.

to your misfortune, you’re later than usual tonight . . .

leaving your mary janes at the entrance neatly and taking off your blazer, undoing the first few buttons of your shirt. you’re a little taken aback by toji already latched onto the couch, all spread out while watching the tv on mute. he doesn’t seem happy, but that’s also just his usual bitchy rest face. your delicate feet tip toe as in to stand behind the sofa, leaning over and giving the grumpy old man a wet kiss on the cheek, MWAH, with that strawberry lipgloss, mixed with the drool of the cherry lollipop you clumsy held on the other hand full of the bracelets toji gifted you, then putting a strand of your hair behind your ear in order to admire his profile better, despite the dim-lit room, with a wide cheeky smile of yours to add to the charm, and probably gain some mercy from him.

“where were ya, little miss? ya late.” he speaks in his deep usual lazy tone, eyes blank as they remain on the television. he’s wearing grey sweatpants and one of the thousand of black tight shirts he owns, which means he’s been home for quite a while now — what a deception he had when he realized you hadn’t arrived yet.

“had a project to work on, sorryyy.” you whine gently and honeyed, dragging out the last letters of the apology. then, walking to the front of the couch, seating down as your purposely flimsy short skirt puffs along and you prop the lollipop on your mouth in front of him innocently.

“at school? with who?” his face finally turns towards you slowly and uncaring, cold voice. his arms spreading wide against the back of the couch, his eyes focused on your doe ones that look up at him like a pitiful puppy.

“my classmates.” you purely reply, taking out the lollipop with a low POP before you speak, with a quick lick of your lips, all while watching him — he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose, but knowing you, he disagrees.

“where’d ya get that lollipop?” toji then asked, glancing down at your lips sucking onto the candy that has left your lips prettily reddish.

“a friend, he gave me a few, i shouldn’t have eaten so much sugar.” a slight pout surges on your pretty dolled face, with a slight devilish grin that’s almost mocking him. “sorry.” you add a few seconds later with a chuckle.

“he? ya should be apologizing for something else other than sum candy. didn’t i say i don’t wan’ ya to be friends with boys?” his voice is still flat, nosy but a little intimidating, his piercing eyes on you makes your little heart flutter, and your eyes shy away at the rebel action you committed. “‘m sorry…” you mumble, once again, discouraged to even lick more of the sweet lollipop, as you keep looking away, turning your body towards the tv now.

“were ya two alone? did he do anything to ya?” toji pressures rigidly as he rests his temple on his fingertips, and the same arm still on the headrest of the couch behind you, closely. turning his body towards you, and simply staring, analyzing is all he does. once he’s gotten a negative response to his question with a head shake from you still avoiding eye contact, the man remained quiet for a few seconds before leaving a low exhale. ��i don’t believe ya, let me see for myself if ya lyin’.” as soon as toji demands, your cheeks warm up, and you now pout expressively, moving your earlier low head to now look at his eyes, all slowly, and he’s staring back intensely with a controlling and demanding aura. your cheeks burn. used to it, you leaned your head back onto the armrest beside you instead, lifting up your legs on the sofa cushion and holding the short skirt up, still with the drooled lollipop in one hand, while it almost drips and stains the white fabric of your skirt. there’s a small smirk on toji’s scarred lips as he focus on the middle of your legs, watching the slight wet trail on your pastel pink cotton thong as he towers over you with that huge figure of his, it’s even more intimidating than the way he talks.

“did ya get wet ‘cause of that boy? just ‘cause he gave ya some attention? popped a lolly or two out of his pocket? did he put ‘em in y’er mouth? don’t doubt it.” toji teases, his thumb dragging onto the hem of the panties, then right over your entrance. his emerald eyes shifting to yours, he’s watching your cheeks flush to pink but he knows it’s all innocent when it comes to you, after all, he’s made you think this is normal, and instead of making you blush from toji’s actions, the man has bred you into making your cheeks flush for the simple thought of the things he’s accusing you to have done . . . so, in other words, your mind doesn’t think that your step-father is doing something wrong, but you’re focused on imagining what he just said: about your guy friend putting the lolly in your pretty mouth, but why? it makes you feel dirty, because it sounds dirty coming from toji, so you get flustered, and he knows it, it’s his doing after all.

but you shake your head again and immediately, very shyly and quiet. “i think ya did, i’m gonna check if ya haven’t been a little slut and let him fuck ya. spread those fucking legs, sweetheart.” he demands firmly since your thighs threatened to close, and at the same time, his hand tapped your knee a little harshly for you to obey. yet, you flinched and ended up giving in, embarrassed and aware there was no way out of this.

toji’s fingers easily removed your thong, and you were so focused on his eyes that you couldn’t even see him putting it on his sweats’ pocket . . . for later. some slick almost dripped onto the couch, you were a little wetter than usual. toji tries to keep that neutral cold face as his lids narrow a little and maintain this controlling stare at your parts. his calloused hands spread your silky thighs even further apart, as his eyes kept focused onto your cute pussy, virgin pussy, taking in every single tissue and color.

he inhales deep and exhales restrainedly, the silence is loud as you can hear your heartbeat intensify, and your own breath hitch through your slightly parted lips. toji’s thumbs spread your folds widely, stretching the skin and you let out a very short unconscious moan. toji can see how moist you are, making his fingers almost slip, SQUELCH, he can almost feel the arousing warmth exuding onto his face as he leans closer, even feeling your legs tremble a bit at the sensitivity of his fanning breath, and the embarrassment of his face being so close. the man admires and looks at every muscle, noticing how he still can see the intact hymen — not being able to look inside the walls of your cunt as much as he spreads you out — which takes a sigh from him, leading your legs to twitch and your hole clench in response, even if not so much. the smirk he had before comes in again as he chuckles at your cute chaste reaction, your grip onto the hems of your skirt is tight and nervous, the lollipop in your hands is so close to slipping from your fingers, a string of the red sugar melting into your hand as your eyes are totally hypnotized onto the man facing your heating core.

“y’er princess’ pretty parts ‘pparently look aight, but that doesn’t mean nothing, i gotta be 100% sure, understand? i don’t trust ya no more.” he looks up to you, and your eyebrows knit in nervousness, slightly pinched nose and pouty lips, red cheeks and glowing pupils are such a sight for him. his eyes go excitedly back to your pussy, as he leans a little closer even, he’s invested, and the self-control this man has in on another level, toji’s almost licking his lips at the sight of his step-daughter’s pretty virgin cunt, how could he not, how could anyone not?

his middle finger — the thicker one — runs through your drenching slit, squelching again, sending shivers down your spine as the liquid refreshes your burning core skin, and your eyelids immediately shut down, toji silences a chuckle at that. the tip of his digit messes with the sensitivity of your hole, which aches a little, and he teases with a poke or two, making sure to take his time, as if he really was examining your cunt.

“look at me.” amidst the silence, his nasal deep voice resonates across the room lowly, and your eyebrows remain knit as your eyes open slightly to stare at him. “i needa see y’er face to know if y’er lying.” he begins, “have ya been a little slut with boys at school?” and even a little before he’s finished, your head immediately shakes NO and his eyes remain fixed onto your shy ones. toji’s finger continues feeling the small tight gummy ring of the opening of your cunny. “if i can tell y’er lying, ya in big trouble, miss.” he threatens slightly, your heart racing ten times faster because you know you haven’t.

yet suddenly, toji’s middle finger entered your pussy and your eyes shut down once again, letting out a silent lengthy moan — his cock is aching inside his sweats — you’re trying to close your legs together, and your head and shoulders shrugged like a turtle, gripping tight onto the hem of your skirt. “keep y’er legs open.” he demands monotonously, struggling to do so, they’re trembling at the slightly uncomfortable? feeling, since he’s never done this before.

“f-feels weird.” you mumble, clenching your pussy as he goes in a little deeper, and squeezing his only finger tightly. he’s stretching this freshly virgin pussy only a little bit and it feels almost impossible to fit it in, he’s having thousands of thoughts now.

“it’s nothin’.” he replies forcefully, manipulative, almost a little too eager too as he tries to glance between your contorted cute face and your drenching cunt, but his eyes keep moving to the latter. toji’s suffering inside, he’s miserable at how much restraint he is going through, and he’s almost groaning out lots of fucks and literally just fucking you right now. his finger goes a little deeper, your legs shaking a bit more and belly squirming and breathing heavily along with your chest, eyelids trembling as they remain closed and lips slightly parted, temptously leaving shy quivering hums. it’s an almost excessive reaction for such a small stimulation as this, but he has never ever gone this far, it’s entirely new, and you have never done this by yourself.

toji’s mean, and once his finger finds a good length, he instantly and not even hesitantly curls it upwards, finding something else that you have never even imagined, and it was so fucking easy, despite you being a virgin, but after all, toji . . . he has a curriculum. your hips move forward and up gently, you’re moaning unconsciously. you’re in another world, and to you, letting out those sounds is nothing wrong.

“aren’t you eager?” he mumbles under his breath, inaudibly, smirking and finally looking at your struggling face, you’re almost humping at his hand. “feels really weird, toji.” you repeat, panting like a puppy. “toji?” he fakes a little offended expression, “well aren’t you being a little rebel, little girl?” your head gets thrown back onto the armrest as you’re struggling to even listen to his words, and he’s up for more teasing as well. once you believed to have calmed down a bit and finally got used to his finger exploring inside your pussy, caressing that one specific spot for an unknown reason, something wet pressed against your clit. your eyes instantly flew to look down, and found toji licking your folds, having a hungry sloppy taste, SLURP. “w-what are you doing?” your half-lidded drunk eyes threaten to cross as his mouth muscle keeps running messy lazy slow circles over the nub.

“what else could i be doin’? i’m examining ya, taste test.” he lies shamelessly, and you accept it, hesitant still because this feels too good, and in your mind, you believe toji is actually just being a caring step-father and making sure you’re being kept in line. so, guilt is filling you entirely. firstly, for believing you were actually slutting yourself out. secondly, your hips now begin trying to hump his face subconsciously, and sweat starts to drip your forehead. you start to feel bad for trying to wrap your mind around what you’re feeling, and the desires is roaming your head constantly, though you’re unsure, quite unfamiliar with this concept. of course, toji takes notice of your failed disguised attempt of restraint, and he’s contemplating on whether it is a good idea to take advantage and corrupt you in this way so bluntly, just leading you on to believe on this facade . . . but he doesn’t care, because he loves you, and also, he’d never do you any harm either.

your breath is faster, as his finger keeps poking your g-spot, his tongue running laps over your clit, sucking and occasionally kissing it very subtly. he’s also drunk, but this time on your sweet pussy, because it’s just too addictive, too tempting to destroy and make it even more belonging to him. he wants to shape your cunt into his dick’s own personal bed, his cock’s own personal cave hole, fuck, he wants to see you under him all fragilely and begging to cum, to drop you off at school after he’s fucked you in the parking lot with his seed all the way into your womb, then have you walk down the hallways with the cum threatening to slip down your bare legs — that he knows guys stare at and fantasize, since he’s caught them doing it multiple times when picking you up — he wants you to beg for his cock on your knees as your step-brother is just down the hallway studying his ass off in his room. don’t worry, he knows he’s problematic.

but the way you look right now, the way his eyes are drowsy as he eats you out, the way his only finger is being sucked inside, it’s just heaven, and it’s more than he can take, it’s absolutely driving this old man insane. yet, it’s also the way your legs close and your pussy clenches intensely, along with a very specific louder moan coming our from your lips that he knows you’re on the edge, and perhaps, he achieved something greater. “toji, toji, feels so, s-so so weird.” your voice sounds a little more desperate, pulling onto your skirt and your legs almost smothering him, he’s looking up and trying to observe your face as you’re incessantly fidgety and squirmy, with doe sleepy eyes finally staring back and down at him. “oh yeah?” he only teases, barely moving an inch from your clit to speak, with his tongue out pressing down at the nerves, almost not even being able to make his words out. once in for all, without further stimulation, and so easily, his finger presses down a little more forcefully on the spot he’s been rubbing so gently inside, and it sends you over the moon. your head leans back swiftly and shaking legs wrap around his head firmer, as toji takes a deep breath in to try and relieve some tension, your eyes close and eyebrows knit more, with a loud cracking whine you SQUIRT against his face, and he pulls out his middle finger amidst to have it SPLASH onto his hand and cushion.

toji is mesmerized, addicted.

this man spreads out your legs and takes a quick exhale, feeling the blood being pumped to his cock thousand of times faster, and he’s dying to even rub his mere thumb over his pants, but his grip onto your wide-spread knees are keeping him from doing so. you’re panting and messily laying on the couch, sweating a little and staring up at him as he’s on his knees straight up on the cushion, looking down on you like a predator, a hunter. you are unaware, but suddenly, he breaks the unbreathable air with a smirk, and his eyes remain filled with lust, but at least, you feel less tense.

“knew ya were a good girl,” he praises, caressing your knees with his thumbs. “ya know, sweet thing, this means y’er body’s telling me that ya haven’t disobeyed me, ‘cause only virgins do that.” he starts, it’s blatant lie after lie, just planting brainwashing thoughts into your head over and over again. “i’ll know if ya have disobeyed me if next time i take a look at yer princess parts, ya don’t react like this,” look at him creating imaginary things. “i’ll know then that ya been a little whore, understand?”

he’s so childish, such a strict man.

fxshigurosbae © 2023 ! please do not upload my content on any platform that is not tumblr . . . { no plagiarism or translations }

🔖 @reiners-milkbiddies @lilithlunas @poesexual @sacvh @xdxdyg @missyasma @DelicatelyCraftedBambi @gorekuma

[banishedchildofeve]

˚｡⋆ Patron Saints that help guide us through the year

₊⋆·˚ ⁀➴ ༉‧₊˚. ₊ ⊹ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✧˚ .

- St. Dymphna ; the Patron Saint of mental illness.

while it can hard for us to admit that we are struggling mentally on a serious level, we have all had moments of feeling very low. i personally have struggled, and so struggle with, anxiety, depression, anger issues etc. these have been serious issues for me and i learnt a prayer i will link - here - that has helped me know St. Dymphna. ˚࿐

- St. Vitus ; the Patron Saint of oversleeping.

we have all overslept once, if not maybe multiple times a week or month. for some, oversleeping is a rare misfortune, but for others, including me, oversleeping is a regular problem and has affected my life in a various of negative ways. here is a - link - to a prayer that i found. ˚࿐

- St. Phillip Neri ; the Patron Saint of joy (and friendship).

i dunno about all of you guys, but i have lost more friends then i have gained since leaving high school. this isn’t a bad thing as a lot of the people i spent time with weren’t very nice, but like most people, i am always wishing for more friends. friendship is so important, and i read up about St. Phillip Neri and learnt so much. he is also the Saint of Joy! here is a - prayer - ˚࿐

- St. Padre Pio ; the Patron Saint of stress relief (and adolescents).

we all get stressed, duh. stress can take a toll on so many aspects of our lives, including our health on a long-term scale. trying to reduce stress is ironically, quite a stressful process. i have found peace in a plenty of Bible verses that talk about being calm and trusting God. i have also found peace in Padre Pio, a Saint who i knew about long before God called me to Catholicism. i have him on a bracelet, haha. here is a - prayer - by St. Padre Pio i have found, and also a - prayer - TO Padre Pio. ˚࿐

- St. Expeditus ; the Patron Saint of procrastination.

if someone says they don’t procrastinate, i’m 99.9% sure they’re lying. you do it, i do it, we know it’s bad, but it can be so hard to fight sometimes. good thing we have St. Expeditus! here is a - prayer - that we should all recite daily. i wish you the best! ˚࿐

- St. Anthony ; the Patron Saint of lost things.

my keys, my glasses, my card, sometimes even whole outfits or pairs of shoes… how many times a week, even a day, do we lose things we own? i’m sure we all know about St. Anthony, most atheists know about him, but i often find myself forgetting that he is there for us. a - prayer - to the finder of those annoying lost items.

- St. Jude ; the Patron Saint of lost causes (and “impossible” circumstances).

we have all thought a situation we’ve been in is completely and totally helpless. we’re stuck, there’s no way out and this feeling might just be forever. despite how hard these moments are, however long or short they may last, they do always end. we end up feeling better. however, that’s not to say that that feeling of helplessness isn’t so hard to bare. i’ve been there, i understand. i only recently learnt about St. Jude, (prior to this, the only ‘jude’ i knew of was the Beatles song… forgive me…). thankfully, St. Jude represents hope for the hopeless and miracles for all of us facing those helpless circumstances. - prayers

₊⋆·˚ ⁀➴ ༉‧₊˚. ₊ ⊹ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✧˚ .

i hope this was somehow useful. God bless you. <3

౨ৎ

i also just make up my own prayers to Saints when needed. sometimes we don’t resonate with a prayer, and that’s okay. i often add to prayers or find myself reciting my own. i linked prayers for suggestions, not as some sort of strict guideline :)

౨ৎ

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

"get me a damned matcha" | Summary and Preview

Hi friends! After laboring over this fic over the past month and a half, I think it's finally ready to publish! I haven't posted a multi-chapter fic since 2017 and this is the first time I actually have enough written out to do regular updates 👀 I will be posting both on here and on AO3 and should be updating every Saturday, generally around 5pm CST :)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Epilogue

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers (sorta), strangers to lovers, idiots in love (eventually), fem!reader, mentions of alcohol, eventual smut, regular mentions of grief, mention of minor character deaths, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of blood and injury, will continue to add as more stuff comes up

Preview:

After a long day at work, Levi was more than irritated when he heard a knock on his door. It was well into the evening, so he had no idea who would have the audacity to be bothering him this late. A frown appeared on his face as he looked at the person in front of him in confusion.  "What the hell?" he muttered as he saw an equally confused expression appear on your face.  That annoying undergrad from this afternoon?

"Did you follow me home?" You raised an eyebrow at him. The last person you had expected to be greeted with was the grumpy barista that you had the misfortune of interacting with earlier in the day. "Did you?" you retorted. Levi scoffed. "How the hell would I have followed you home if I was here first?" He cursed to himself as he recalled the monologue you gave him earlier on in the day. You had said that you had to suffer on a bus ride and couldn't get in contact with your new roommate to get keys to the unit. Now that you were standing in front of the door to his apartment, his frown only grew. Your eyes widened as you finally put together the pieces. "Wait," you asked, shaking your head slightly. "Are you-?" "I guess so," Levi responded with an unamused sigh. "Fuck."

if you're interested in getting tagged, fill out my taglist form! this is a new one specifically for this fic :)

[8um8le]

Little special post of cat and earth interacting even though they are not in the same universe :-))

also bonus text from the little bot under the cut:

Hellooo everyone, I’m earth! A reality tv star!, one of the main cast members of “space friends” 

Don’t get me confused with the other three, Cataclysm and Geo, but it wont be hard to get us mixed up since I’m the most handsome hahah.

This is a little exclusive on our little freak-show, right now I’m not on air for “Space Friends” so I’m not tied down by rules.

y’know it’s easy being such a talented bot that good at everything like me, so when the shows on, the team likes to add misfortune on me at random for the sake of making things more funny, like making trip on a pebble in front of a crowd, or have my luck completely disappear, humiliation to be more “relate-able”, I MEAN I DIDNT SPEND MY ENTIRE LIFE TO BE TOP OF THE CLASS TO BE A CLOWN- anyways

Firstly I should tell you a little summary of the show. Sooo, we’re basically like galactic clowns, we entertain people in a variety of ways. It can be on our earth, or a complete different dimension, the genre can change from time to time, depending on our prompt.

Sometimes we just film normal days at our office/ headquarters, doing some goofy shenanigans, or even our own homes. Oh I should mention, I live in a forest, Comet lives in a cave, Moon lives in the ocean and sun lives in a volcano. 

Although we do all our stunts, we still need some help from our talented team of individuals for censorship. We can’t have any swear words, or heavy gore on our show, but with movie magic our team seamlessly changes the audio and visuals in a perfectly convincing way!

They go real easy on our guest compared to our main cast, we have a whole bunch of rules! 

That’s it, see you soon!

[greg-montgomery]

Ivy - Part 4

gif by: @foldfoldmoldmold <3

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Sean Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

Series summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend, Sean, is going great. Well, that is until you meet his older brother, Aaron.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: this chapter is nsfw - 18+

Minors DNI

Chapter summary: ???? idk things happen. this is 3.3k words lmfao i couldn't shut up.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The first phone call came when Aaron wanted to check up on you after your fight with Sean. You had left his house soon after breakfast was over, and apparently you were still on his mind when the night had come.

“I just wanted to see if you’re alright,” he said.

“I am.”

It was the same thing you had said to Sean when you had returned home, and he hadn’t questioned it. But Aaron did.

“Why am I not convinced?”

“Because I’m lying,” you sighed.

“Do you wanna talk about it some more?” he asked.

“Not really,” you replied. But it’s nice hearing your voice, you wanted to add.

You couldn’t talk about it with him. Because the reason you were feeling upset wasn’t your fight with Sean anymore. It was the way your mind couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron.

And maybe you forgave Sean this fast and fell into his arms as soon as you set foot into your home because you were feeling guilty.

Guilt was a terrible feeling.  But the need to talk with Aaron was stronger than it. So you made sure the bathroom door was shut and kept whispering on your phone for a few minutes more.

--

The second phone call was initiated by Aaron again. It was only a few days later.

“Jack has been chewing my ears off all day to call you,” he laughed. “He says you’re his best friend.”

“And I am. Give him the phone,” you replied with a fake serious tone.

“Y/N!”

“Hi, sweet angel,” you said, softly. “I’ve missed you already.”

“When are you gonna visit again? I made a drawing for you at school and I wanna show you,” he complained.

“Soon, buddy. I promise.”

A few days later, Jack’s sweet drawing of you and him was hanging on your fridge door.

--

And just like that, the habit of talking with Aaron on the phone at least once a day was born. Lucky for you it was usually at night, when you were home from work, but Sean wasn’t yet.

“Are you still in your office?” you raised a brow even though Aaron couldn’t see you.

“Paperwork,” he said, as if he was defending himself.

“What do you even do when you have paperwork?” you asked, letting your body fall on your bed. When Sean wasn’t home, you liked taking up all the space.

“Boring things.”

“Hmm…so that’s why you called. I’m free entertainment.”

“That’s right. Now tell me about your day,” he ordered.

So you did.

--

Your giggles filled the room you were in.

Jack had overheard Aaron talking about how he didn’t like a certain teacher of his, and with the innocence of a child his age, he exposed him right in front of said teacher without a second thought.

“I’m never showing my face to Jack’s school again.”

“No, stop it. It wasn’t that embarrassing.”

“Then why are you ready to pass out from laughing?” Aaron asked and even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew the exact expression he was making.

You physically couldn’t reply.

“Listen to her,” he said, amused; his words directed to no one. “She can’t even talk from laughing.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, sounding not sorry at all.

“Stop laughing at my misfortunes,” he complained.

--

You tried to balance your phone between your ear and your shoulder; your hands too busy carrying a mug filled with tea and a plate with a piece of apple pie.

After sitting on the couch, you didn’t have to be so focused anymore so you started talking again.

“And then he told me that if I wanna keep my job, I’m gonna have to make compromises. Can you believe him? Like, is that what ‘not paying your employees for their overtime work’ is called now?”

“Want me to punch him for you?” Aaron suggested.

“Yes, please.”

“You know, you should really start talking back.”

“Easy for you to say, you look scary.” You sipped some of your tea and then added, “No offense.”

“Non taken,” he laughed.

“No one is gonna take me seriously.”

“Well…it’s all about the attitude,” he started. “My number one rule is never break eye contact.”

Lessons on intimidation by the one and only Aaron Hotchner? You were going to be unstoppable.

--

“I’m baking because I’m sad for no reason,” you admitted, putting Aaron on speaker so you could use both of your hands.

“I get the feeling,” he said.

“You do? Whenever I say that, I feel like I have to justify myself.”

The smell of the little bottle of vanilla extract you just opened filled the kitchen, and you closed your eyes to enjoy it.

“You don’t,” his voice came soft from the phone. “We don’t have to always understand our emotions. Sometimes all we need to do is feel them.”

“Here he goes all Oprah again.”

“Alright, this is the last time I’m giving you advice,” he said.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” you rushed to reply, trying to hold your laughter back. “I’m surprised you have so many pieces of advice when it comes to emotions.”

“Well, I’m raising a kid,” he simply said.

“Have you been gentle parenting me the whole time?” you acted offended.

“You’re insufferable.”

Laughing on the phone with Aaron was like therapy and you realized you didn’t feel so sad anymore.

“So what are you baking?”

“Cookies!” you said with excitement.

“That’s what you were making the day I met you.”

“Yeah, and then you scolded me about eating cookie dough as if I was nine,” you said, putting some of the dough in your mouth like you had done that day.

“And I’ll do it again, I can hear you chewing,” he replied.

“I wasn’t afraid of you then and I’m not afraid of you now.”

“Oh is that so?”

“Mhm…You can’t hide from me. I know you’re a softie so you can never scare me,” you grinned.

“I’m not a softie.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Well, I’m not like that all the time.”

“I know,” you smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. It felt nice to get confirmation that he was a softie just for you. And your softie really needed to try some of your cookies so he’d understand why you couldn’t resist them even before they were baked. You made a mental note to visit him the next day and drop some of them off.

--

“Aaron is calling you,” Sean’s voice came from the other room.

“What?” you were blow-drying your hair so his voice sounded muffled in your ears.

In a few seconds he was standing in front of you. “Aaron,” he repeated, showing you your phone; his brother’s name lighting up on your screen.

“Oh…” you only managed to say, taking it from his hand. It would look suspicious if you didn’t pick up, so you did.

“Hello?”

“Guess who has to suck it up and make an appearance at Jack’s school this Thursday,” Aaron joked.

It made you sad that you couldn’t laugh. You tried to think fast of what to reply.

Sean was staring at you.

“Oh, I’m glad he did!” you said.

“Of course you’re glad I have to suffer.” He thought you were answering his question.

“Don’t worry, he can keep it,” you pushed yourself to smile.

“What?” Aaron asked, clearly confused. You couldn’t blame him.

“Consider it a gift from me. I’m not gonna read it again anyway.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron laughed.

“Of course. Good night,” you said and hung up.

“I gave Aaron a book for Jack and he wanted to return it,” you explained to Sean, putting your phone away, making sure it was facing down.

Well, technically you weren’t lying.

“That’s so sweet of you, babe,” he smiled and gave you a kiss.

The guilt was creeping up inside you again. “Well, he’s a sweet kid.”

“You’re sweeter,” he whispered and soon his lips were on your neck. “I could just eat you.”

Sean lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him carry you to bed. You could hear your phone vibrate. You wished you were talking with Aaron instead; teasing him about the fact that he had to face his least favorite teacher of Jack’s again.

When Sean was asleep, you got up and tip-toed your way out of the bedroom to find your phone.

You: Sorry about earlier. I wasn’t alone.

Aaron: Yeah, I realized after we hung up. Don’t worry about it. Good night.

This was the first time the two of you had acknowledged that your little habit was something you should be hiding; something that Sean shouldn’t be aware of.

You: Good night. (Btw you weren’t wrong I am glad you’re gonna have to suffer)

Aaron: I had no doubts. Now go to sleep, it’s late.

You were proud that he didn’t ask you what “btw” meant.

--

Aaron left a sweet kiss on the top of Jack’s head. The little boy was sleeping, hugging his new stuffed dinosaur close to his chest.

Kissing his son goodnight was Aaron’s favorite part of the day, and his heart filled with joy when he got to be home and do it.

After closing Jack’s door as quietly as possible, he was ready for his next favorite part of the day: talking with you.

It was fucked up - he knew it- that his mood depended on whether or not he got to talk with his brother’s girlfriend that day. But when he heard your voice, when he finally got to listen to his name leaving your lips so sweetly, nothing else mattered anymore.

“So, you know how it’s my birthday this Saturday.”

“Of course, I do,” he said. “It’s the only thing you’ve been talking about for the last two months.”

“Ha ha, funny,” you replied, not amused. “Anyway, I’m gonna have a little party.”

“Hmm…”

“And, of course, I want you there,” you said.

“I’ll-”

He didn’t manage to say another word before you interrupted him. “Tell all the serial killers of the world that they’ll have to cancel their plans for that night, because you’re coming. Aaron, I’m serious.”

God, he could just kiss you senseless then. If you were there, physically, with him, he didn’t know if he’d be able to resist.

The fact that you wanted him there so bad made him feel good.

“Okay, I’ll let them know.”

--

Considering his job, it was rare for something to take Aaron’s breath away.

Well, apparently all it took was you in a black dress to make it happen.

“I’m glad you came,” you flashed him a smile.

“You know I wouldn’t miss it. Happy birthday,” he smiled back and handed you the flowers he was holding.

You noticed him staring, he could tell. The bouquet he gave you was hiding your dress, so you took it out of the way by dropping your arm to your side. “Do you like it?” you smirked.

His eyes travelled shamelessly on your body, since you gave him permission. “I like it.”

You urged him to follow you inside the house.

Aaron wasn’t the type of man who had a different person in his bed every night. The woman he had married was the same one he had lost his virginity to when he was a teenager. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of the attention the way he looked earned him.

He knew that he could turn heads by walking into a room.

And for that reason, he didn’t miss the way one of your friends whispered in your ear while checking him out. He also didn’t miss the way your expression shifted only for one second, before you rushed to smile again.

His thoughts were confirmed when that same friend of yours started chatting with him; a sparkly drink occupying her right hand.

“You definitely look like you belong in the FBI,” she said, touching his arm.

He would stop her; come up with an excuse and walk away. But the way you were staring at them from across the room was way too entertaining for him to stop.

You were jealous. So he decided to indulge her.

“You think?” he smirked, taking a sip from his drink, his gaze directed at you and not her.

“Are you kidding? I mean, when you walked in I immediately said to Y/N: Who is he?”

Aaron faked laughed. He hadn’t paid any attention to her answer, so he was silently hoping it was a joke and his laughter didn’t seem out of place.

You were getting worked up: biting your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest, paying zero attention to the person talking to you. He could read every reaction and it satisfied him more than he could ever express.

“Why don’t you talk to me about yourself,” he said to – Ashley was her name?

His attention kept switching between you and her. He didn’t want to be obvious by ignoring her completely, but he was constantly aware of your movements in the background.

When Ashley found an excuse to touch his chest this time, you started walking away from your company. You didn’t walk towards her and Aaron, though. You walked towards Sean.

Soon your arms were wrapped around his neck and his tongue was down your throat.

Aaron clenched his jaw. Sean’s hands were so low on your waist that it was clear to everyone that if the two of you were alone he’d already be gripping your ass.

He had it coming. And he hated the view. But he knew what you were doing.

That was enough for him.

Later that night, when everyone was a little drunk, when the lights had gotten low, he got a chance to talk to you alone.

“Take me to your room, I wanna give you something,” he said in your ear and grabbed your hand.

You looked up at him and nodded your head, pulling his arm to lead him to the bedroom.

He locked the door behind him. Hopefully no one would notice the two of you had disappeared from the party.

“What do you wanna give me?” you asked, trying to act annoyed from earlier, and he thought it was adorable.

“You didn’t think I’d only get you flowers for your birthday, did you?”

You didn’t answer so he moved closer to you. He reached for the inside pocket of his jacket, taking out a small blue box with a white bow.

“Aaron,” you said. “You shouldn’t have.”

He knew you didn’t say it to be polite. He knew he really shouldn’t have.

But he couldn’t help himself from thinking how beautiful you’d look with two pretty diamonds framing your face.

“Can I put them on for you?” he asked you after you opened the box, revealing the beautiful pair of earrings.

You let him.

He stood on your side, and his hands went to your ear so he could start removing the earrings you were wearing that night.

You were breathing faster; he could feel it. He could see you shiver because of his touch. And you could probably feel him too, his breath against your skin.

Aaron took his time, putting your earrings on, letting his own self get lost in the moment; in your perfume.

He turned his gaze towards the mirror that was hanging on your wall, urging you to stare at yourself too.

He didn’t take his hand away when he was done. Instead he started tracing patterns against the sensitive skin of your neck with his fingers. “Do you like them?”

“They’re perfect,” you admitted.

“You are perfect.”

You looked into his eyes through the mirror.

“Were you jealous earlier?” he asked you.

“Can’t you tell?” you answered with a question.

“Can’t you tell that when you’re in the room everyone else disappears for me?”

“Aaron…” it sounded like a plea.

“Fuck it,” he whispered and turned you around, pulling you into his arms.

He could finally taste what he had been craving for months now, and whatever heaven could ever be, it still wouldn’t be even close to how kissing you felt.

Your lips had been sparkling the whole night, and he had been trying to guess if it was strawberries or cherries they tasted. They didn’t taste like either of them, they tasted like you.

He heard you say his name against his mouth, and the next second he had you with your back against the wall.

“Oh God…�� you whispered when he finally touched your chest.

“You’ve been driving me crazy since the moment I saw you. Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He took your hand and brought it to his crotch. “Can you feel it? It’s all you.”

“I need you,” you whined.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna get you off,” he promised and his hand found its way between your legs.

“Aaron kiss me.”

How could he deny you that? He did as you said, kissing you deeply, pulling your panties to the side so he could touch you; so he could feel you and not the fabric. He wasn’t at all surprised that you were soaked for him.

He broke the kiss. “Have you ever done it? Have you ever touched it while thinking of me?” he asked you, rubbing your clit in a torturous pace.

You were biting your lip, trying to keep your moans quiet.

“I know you have,” he continued. “I can even tell you when the first time you did it was. Because the next night you came crying to my doorstep.”

Your eyes grew wide. It made him smirk; he knew he was right.

“How did you know?” you breathed out.

“You think you can hide from me? You forget what I do for a living.” He kissed you again and slipped a finger inside you.

“Fuck, Aaron,” you moaned, trying to keep your tone in whispers.

After adding another finger, he saw you bending your right knee, struggling to stand on your own.

He pushed himself against you, helping you hold yourself up. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said and lowered his head to suck on your earlobe, taking one of the earrings he bought you into his mouth.

“Feels so good,” you said.

“I know, baby. You deserve it.”

Your little moans kept getting faster and soon you were cumming on his fingers, with your eyes closed even though he was dying to look into them.

You let him kiss you again and your hands went to his belt, trying to unbuckle it. “I wanna make you feel good too,” you said.

He was painfully hard, but he caught both of your wrists with his left hand, before you could.

“No,” he said.

“Why?”

“We’ve already been gone from the party long enough. Someone’s gonna notice we’re not there.” He paused for a moment. “Sean will.”

The mention of his name made your expression shift. Aaron could see your guilt taking over. And how could he ever comfort you on that? What would he even say?

“You’re right.”

The two of you stayed silent and he couldn’t help but think about how delicious you looked after your orgasm. Why couldn’t you have been a normal couple?

He’d touch you for the first time, after a romantic dinner, in his bed; he’d make love to you and not finger fuck you against a wall.

You’d crawl into his arms and he’d tell you all those sappy, romantic stuff boyfriends tell their girlfriends.

You would be glowing and giggling; you wouldn’t have tears in your eyes from shame and guilt like he could see you having right now.

Why couldn’t you have met him first?

You pulled him by the collar of his shirt when he made a move to go, but he stopped you.

“I’m sorry for making you cry on your birthday.” He kissed your cheek and walked away.

He took off his jacket before opening the bedroom door, making sure to hold it against his crotch, and left you alone.

ivy tag list: @preciousbabypeter @buckysmainhxe @galaxyofmyown @ssamorganhotchner @romanogersendgame @elhotchner @louderfortheback @northschild @iammirrorball @rousethemouse @kishie8 @save-the-sky @ssacharcoalgrey @realdirectionx

Part 5

[hphm-jeniferltheman]

No Surprise

[Spoiler and Long Explanation Ahead]

a bit of spoiler cause i'm still in year 5 of the game and i have a lot i wanted to draw before this event

I listen to this song in repeat while making this maybe you should too? (also the reference of the title)

In Year 6, after the death of their best friend, Ben and Jeniferl decided that it is best to break up for the meantime.

Ben believed that despite being together, he had failed to protect her and the people she cares about. The death of Rowan shows that he is still incapable to protect the others, despite his attempts to change. He felt worthless and believed that only a strong, courageous person could be with Jeniferl that can keep her safe... unlike him. He will keep changing, even if it makes him the worst version of himself, until he has proved to himself that he is capable of becoming that person.

Jeniferl on the other hand, didn't want more people to die because of her. She once again blamed herself from all misfortune and believed that the more she is attached to someone, the closer death will come to them. After the death of her best friend, she fears Ben will be next therefore she wants to maintain her distance and, to the best of her ability, suppress her emotions in order to concentrate on breaking the family curse and the curse vault. If she kept bringing ill fortune, she believed she didn't deserve to be loved.

The breakup left a bitter taste in their relationship. They told one another that  they could do anything they wanted regardless of what the other think, but their relationship is over.

On the day of the Masquerade ball

It was surprising how Jeniferl was on the ball despite all the tragedy that happened to her; it was Barnaby’s idea for her to go. Jeniferl and Barnaby are like siblings to one another, for they share the same interest in magical creatures and dueling. Feeling bad about what happened to her, he invited Jeniferl to a dance at the ball in an attempt to cheer her up, which she appreciated and agreed with. But what’s more surprising is what they saw in the Ball, 

Ben and Ismelda were dancing together. 

Everyone was startled that the two were together, but Jeniferl repress her emotions and smiled at them as they danced elegantly in the night. As promised, Barnaby and Jeniferl performed their dance as friends, but someone is watching them closely. It was Ben. Even though he presents a cold and disinterested demeanor around her, he is nonetheless troubled. In actuality, he only attended the event because of her presence. He wasn't supposed to go because he didn't see the point in going and would rather train to get stronger instead. But Ismelda came and informed him how Barnaby would be going with Jeniferl. He requested Ismelda's company in order to verify whether it was real. Upon realizing it to be true, he was reminded of their breakup and understood that there was nothing he could do.

The night may be beautiful, but no surprise, two hearts are left in sorrow once again.

✧✨✧

First I wanna say sorry for my poor writing and grammar skills I just want to finish this so that i can focus on my uni,,

and second, YES, the two broke up after 3 years of flirting and a year of dating ,,how unlucky but thats just the life of Jeniferl. I already planned this ahead before the spoiler TLSQ happen but, I hate to admit it, this tlsq benefit the story and I'm sorryy I added more pain in my story(I'm gonna add more tho).

No hate to Ben and Ismelda shippers, I love Ismelda's character and i just thought her being with ben is an out of character but i become more curious . Also I chose Barnaby because he is the one i chose to be partnered with my mc in the game but in my story, Barnaby doesn't have romantic feelings towards Jeni

But the TLSQ haven't released yet so there might be changes added in the story but who knows, I hate it but I'm excited for this tlsq~ also i kinda didn't follow the color dress code sryy

✧✨✧

[glitched-username]

★heyllooo-★

★..sooo, erm, based on your latest post regarding concepts with rottmnt g/t and stuff, a little concept has been spiraling around in my head based on - these parts of your rambles★ :

★And this- has got me thinkinggg.. what if everyone who got mutated into an animal of some sorts just, as you said, let's the size take priority ?? Now this could go both ways, like- a person, depending on the species that they turn into after getting bitten by an oozequito (how is it spelled, help) has the misfortune of forming onto said size★

★Im, gonna give some very specific examples here★ :

|⭐| For instance, if a person transforms into some sort of a bug, it is safe to say that their size would reduce to just a couple of inches tall, maybe even smaller than that.

|⭐| They get turned into a bunny ?? Then their new found size should be about 10-20 inches tall-..I think- I dunno, (by the way, the smallest species of a rabbit is called a pygmy bunny and they can reach up to only 12 inches tall.. I think-)

|⭐| They happen to be close to an orca during the process of their mutation ?? They might just reach a length of 5.5 to 9.8 meters .. pretty big.

★You get the idea- well, you pretty much formed it.. Unlessss, the sizey thing was just a hiccup that occured because the mutant-gen was still in testing and stuff- ?? (or is it empyrean ?? Fuck I gotta go to the turtle-pedia- ) ★

★either way, it would make for a pretty cool, ermm, concept to add to the 'ROTTMNT' universe- !!★

★..(and imagine the tons of g/t content we could feast on (⁠☆‹ ☆⁠) !!)★

★yeah ermm, your rambling is quite cool by the way anddd, (I hope that..i dunno, you meet a giant in real life that just so happens to be like rise!raph)★

Oh, Draxum 100% would not have wanted the animal height to take priority, he just didn't think of the way heights would be affected with the mutation. Many dangerous/strong animals are actually much smaller than humans (wolves, spiders, monkeys, etc.) so he would be more interested in trying to find a way to prioritize the human height to a certain point. Super dumb way I could phrase it but, it'd kinda be like

if(HumanHeight > AnimalHeight){

HumanHeight = Height;

}

else{

AnimalHeight = Height;

}

idk if that makes sense but that's how I view it (can you tell I'm a fucking donnie kinnie lmao). And this is also my excuse so that the other mutants that appear in the show are still their OG sizes instead of getting to the heights of crabs and pigs. Would also make it funnier when the rogues gallery are giants compared to the turtles and yet the turtles still manage to kick ass.

Honestly Draxum would only recognize the boys as his creations by their height and is just like "well, they still have lou jistu DNA and survived THIS long... maybe I can still work with this?"

Anyway currently writing some stuff based on this au and I'm starting with the first meeting with April, which if you read my thoughts on how that would go... teehee

And Imma be real, I'm projecting hard when I write about giant raph stuff, because I would love to have that mystic power. idk who assembled my tiny 5 foot 2 self in the factory but I am ridiculously giant coded lmao. I would lose my mind immediately if I got some borrower friends. I even got a tiny handheld robot guy that I love because he's a tiny robot friend :))

[wyntereyez]

And here's the next exciting installment of wyntereyez screams into the void. Part Two - the rest of my immediate family.

This part is hard for me to face. Because I do love my family, really, I do. But I need to accept that I can love them, but also hate the way they treated me. I was forever altered, probably for the worse, because of everything. But there's this little voice in my head that whispers, "Things could have been worse. Everyone did their best. You were loved."

You can be loved and cared for and still not have your needs met.

As I've said, my mother left us when I was thirteen. Choosing who to stay with was a no-brainer: one parent wanted us, one didn't. She didn't deserve me.

Now, before this, I had no problems with my Dad. He was a bit distant, but he did things with me - more than my mother did, when I actually think about it.

When she left, my Dad had almost no support network. His family, which I will go into later, was shit. He didn't really have many close friends. He's an introvert. He doesn't like going out much, or traveling. He likes to spend his time off doing projects around the house. He actually is what he believes me to be, which I think is part of problem.

(He never grasped that a house in the middle of nowhere next to a small town with nothing to do was a very bad environment for me.)

But I digress.

When my mother left, I was thirteen, my brother was eight, and my sister was four. My Dad pulled me aside and said we had to do what we could to make sure they had a good childhood. And it never occurred to me to wonder, "what about my childhood?" It pretty much ended that day.

I'd had chores, of course, which I only reluctantly did for an allowance. Trying to get a thirteen-year-old to actually do them is a trial! And now, I had more chores than I'd ever had before - and no allowance. Because my mother had left after we'd gotten a new house and car, and she couldn't be bothered to pay any kind of child support, my Dad was left with a lot of huge debt, and he had to work more hours just to keep afloat. I learned many years later he'd even sold some of his model trains he'd had since he was a child just so he could afford Christmas presents.

Because he had no support network and my mother couldn't be bothered to take us until we were older and she could sleep and ignore us, babysitting duty fell to me. Not at first; my younger siblings did go for a few years to a babysitter, but that wasn't sustainable, and once they got a bit of independence, guess who had no life.

Because they were too young to be left alone, I couldn't do any after school activities, because I had to watch them. I got in trouble once because one teacher wanted us to stay after to rehearse a play, and I couldn't.

I had few friends, because I couldn't do anything with them. Classmates assumed I enjoyed being at home and hated hanging out with others, so I was treated like a shy introvert that few talked to. And a lazy one, since I never volunteered for after-school activities.

This also meant I couldn't get a job. We only had one vehicle, and I was in the middle of nowhere; five miles from my tiny town which had nowhere a teenager could work. I didn't have friends who could drive me around. Not that I could leave the house anyway.

By the time I graduated high school, I had almost no social skills, but I was expected to know how to go out and get a job and go to college - things I figured out entirely on my own, might I add.

I should also mention a few other things. First, I had the misfortune of being my Dad's confidante since, as I said, he wasn't big on friends. You know how psychologists are saying these days how parents should treat children as a fellow adult? Yeah. It's awful. I was somehow supposed to process these big, adult emotions and problems - without being able to share mine in return. This is something I'll come back to later. I was supposed to listen, and sympathize, and it was too much for me.

And then there's the chores. So. Many. Chores. I was the only one to do dishes. For years. It got to the point where I would BEG for my siblings to take turns once they were old enough to help, but nope, it was my job. And if I didn't do them, my Dad would yell. Sometimes, after I did dishes, my sister would make something to eat. She'd put the dishes into the sink and laugh, because she knew I'd be forced to do them even though I'd already done them that day. To this day, it's hard for me to do dishes. Sometimes it takes me days to tackle the dishes because I just CAN'T.

Yes, my Dad yelled a lot. Usually at me. He didn't used to, but stress and grief made him angry a lot. I try to justify it by telling myself that he was that way because of the pain from my mother leaving him.

IT'S NO EXCUSE.

I suspect this is the root of my anxiety. I really don't like it when people yell, and I got yelled at a lot for being me.

Eventually, my Dad bought a second vehicle, a barely-adequate family car that I was allowed to use for work and school. And also for taking my siblings anywhere they wanted to go, since they actually had friends and activities they could attend. They got to be children and teens instead of a mini-adult. A lot of people - including a fucking TEACHER - assumed I was their mother because at that point, I'd been their authority figure so long that I seemed older than I was.

I was five years older than my brother. My Dad wonders why I utterly hate it when people assume I'm the mother of the family.

My Dad seemed to be trying to force me into the mold of a caretaker, a role that I don't actually naturally fit into. Hell, on weekends where my mother did take my siblings (I refused to go) my Dad would go out with one of my uncles (well, an ex-uncle by marriage) who would expect me to watch my young cousins for free while they went out.

My Dad just did not get that I didn't want to babysit. I watched my siblings all week; I needed time off, too. I didn't need to be stuck babysitting for free, with no choice because my ex-uncle would just show up with the kids. When I tried to protest this, my Dad got angry and told me it was 'good practice.'

Practice for WHAT. I already knew at that point that I was never having kids. Quit trying to force me into this unwanted role, you're just making me hate it all the more.

I'd thought that once I was out of high school, I'd be free. I was allowed to stay at home while I worked to save money as well as attend community college, with the plan of eventually transferring to a good college far away. And, it might even have happened that way...if my Dad hadn't married the worse creature possible.

She gets her own section. Let's just say, she taught me all about emotional abuse.

She brought out the worst in my Dad without him realizing it; he suddenly became less trusting, and even more volatile. He actually had the gall to ground me. An adult. Who had a job and college classes. For the crime of standing up to my step-monster because I didn't want to be her personal servant.

I did finally escape, but things still sucked. I'll do a bit of a bullet point list.

I was expected to go along with plans made without me. A good example is my college breaks; it was assumed that I would go home, but my Dad couldn't be bothered to tell me when he was picking me up, and if I called to ask because hey, I needed to know what day he was picking me up, then he'd snap at me for being too persistent. And yet, if I don't immediately answer him, he dogpiles me by having my siblings - and even my freaking mother - try to contact me. I also had no say in how long the visits were, which meant I was trapped for weeks there with the vile step-monster.

I would get into trouble for buying things. Apparently, a little treat once in awhile was not allowed, and would leave me bankrupt. One time I had to show him I bought pads, because the she-beast had goaded him into it.

I'm too ambitious. My goals had always been to go to college and get a degree, but my Dad had always acted like I wanted too much in life and should be content in the kind of boring, repetitive job that drives me insane. It has never once occurred to him that I thrive in environments where I'm going out and doing new things and learning. As I've said, he thinks I'm like him, and has said as much. And I just nod and agree, because he gets annoyed at me otherwise. It took me years to realize that his version of 'too ambitious' is actually 'things most people want to accomplish.' He is, however, very proud of my sister for doing the things that he thinks I shouldn't do.

He expects me to be obedient to the point that I will drop everything for him. Twice, when I was living with him after being forced to move back, I'd made plans to go somewhere. I'd informed him of these plans. He forgot, made his own plans in the same timeframe, and when I reminded him, got angry because he expected me to take care of his dogs. Why the hell couldn't anyone else care for them? Why should I drop everything to watch dogs? Oh, right, because I was forced to do that as a child. One of those trips was a convention. He made me leave a day early, buy a new train ticket back since I couldn't switch it, and lose out on a photo op. He's not even sorry. I have such huge caretaker burnout that I genuinely think I'll never have pets of my own because the thought of taking care of them gives me anxiety.

And I can't tell him how I feel about any of this. If I express ANY kind of negativity, or any problems in my life, he'll immediately start talking about how my mother left him. Apparently, any problems I may have are completely invalid because she left him THIRTY YEARS AGO. And my sister will immediately back him up, because she got a more normal life and doesn't understand why I have issues.

I'm tired of this. I don't want to feel guilty for being my own person.

I was discouraged from doing anything that didn't fit my Dad's image of me as someone who loves the simple life, despite that being the opposite of my personality.

The end result here is that I feel guilty doing things for myself, even when they're good for me, because I've been forced to think about others for most my life. I hide things from my family, like the trips I've taken, because anything that doesn't fit their image of me is either a waste that I'll be scolded for, or made fun of because apparently I'm not allowed to like things. I'm not supposed to have problems, or ambitions, or be anything in particular. I'm supposed to be ready to drop everything and do things for my family, even at a cost to myself.

[comshipbracket]

Antis DNI - Block the tag "comship" if this causes discomfort.

Remember, you are voting for the ship you prefer, not the ship you find more problematic

Propaganda for both ships under the cut.

Disclaimer: All ships (other than NozoCoco) on this bracket are FOLLOWER-SUBMITTED ships, the Mods do not always hold necessary knowledge to be aware of any errors or fanonizing what should be canon material that may arise.

Jimthan Propaganda (One-sided Toxic Dynamic, Underage - Both Jimmy and Nathan are children)

"Jimmy and Nathan have an adorably onesided dynamic where it's never entirely clear if Jimmy is fully aware just how much Nathan hates his guts. Fueled partly by their different feelings on summer camp, Nathan has tried to get Jimmy killed multiple times, almost always ending in his own misfortune as a result. Much like a classic Looney Toons pair, Jimmy's insistence on fair play and good sportsmanship somehow always wins against Nathan's schemes. Even after encountering a situation where it is Severely, OBJECTIVELY clear that Nathan is just a straight up evil person who wants him and everyone else involved in the camp Dead, Jimmy seems to openly consider him a friend who he's glad to see every summer. This doesn't mean he never fucks with him, but Jimmy's attitude being so chill and friendly makes a wonderful contrast against Nathan's seething hatered. They also seem to be on mildly reasonable terms at school, partly because whenever Nathan has to directly interact with him, he feigns friendship, making the whole dynamic that much more complex. Please let my disabled babies win against the conventionally attractive anime people, i mean no disdain for the other ships i just think that would be really cool!!"

Stannarrator Propaganda (Codependency, Toxic Power Dynamics - In most endings)

"The Stanley Parable is a game about The Narrator wanting to tell a story through their game but having to rely on the Stanley's choices. The core of the game is that Stanley and The Narrator are bound to each other: Stanley needs The Narrator to make the "parable" he lives in, and The Narrator needs Stanley to make the choices that drive the story.

The Narrator clearly has the most power in this dynamic, since he can alter the world the Stanley lives in: modifying the rooms, creating and deleting objects at will, reloading the game, altering Stanley's perception, knowing almost everything and being almost everywhere. But, despite all that power, he isn't able to control the one thing that keeps his story existing: Stanley's choices.

Okay, spoilers to both the original 2013 game and the Ultra Deluxe remake from here on out since it's impossible to talk about them without spoiling a lot of the endings.

In one of the new endings on the Ultra Deluxe remake, the Skip Button ending, The Narrator creates a button that lets Stanley skip his dialogue `inspired` by a bad Steam review, but when Stanley clicks this button The Narrator is left all alone in that room, and which each click the skip becomes longer, from minutes, to hours, to weeks, to months… And in the fifth skip (where Stanley stays frozen for like, one, two weeks), The Narrator breaks up, talking about how he needs Stanley to listen to him and how scared he is of slipping back into the silence he passes through every time we use the skip button. In his own words, `I can't lose myself in the stretch of emptiness between you and me.` Of course, since it's the only way to advance in this ending, we skip again, and again, until The Narrator ends up eventually disappearing after the 12th or 13th skip, leaving Stanley alone in a desert, and that's where the ending stops, though it continues on the Epilogue, but I'll leave some things to add as propaganda during the polls.

Despite this, The Narrator still has more control of the situation than Stanley, like on the Explosion ending, where he traps Stanley in a room while the building's destroys itself as consequence for choosing to activate the Mind Control Machine instead of shutting it down to free everyone. He keeps acting like Stanley is nothing but a vehicle for him to pass a message through his story. `Watching you try to make sense of everything and take back the control wrested away from you…it's quite rich. I almost hate to see it go!` `You're only still playing instead of watching a cutscene because I want to watch you for every moment that you're powerless, to see you made humble. […] You wanted to control this world; that's fine. But I'm going to destroy it first, so you can't.`

But there's one point where they're equal, they both want to free themselves. On the Museum ending, we meet a being that is higher than The Narrator, the Female Narrator (yeah, that's her name), and she gives the best description of the relationship between these two: `Oh, look at these two. How they wish to destroy one another. How they wish to control one another. How they both wish to be free. Can you see? Can you see how much they need one another? No, perhaps not. Sometimes these things cannot be seen.`"

[evita-shelby]

Incantatrice

Ch.16

Cw: death, guilt, feminicide, murder, mentions of sex(duh its an eva fic), whatever murder of a pregnant person is called

Taglist: @wandawiccan60 @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife

Gif by @cillianparadise

“I want you to be the last.” Luca had said when they met earlier yesterday, “I want you to be alive after your entire family is dead 'cause my mother says that is what will hurt you the most.”

A few days after John’s funeral, Elizabeth Stark is found dead in a canal.

Her autopsy revealed she was pregnant, barely two months along.

He hadn’t killed her, but he let Esme and Polly take their revenge.

Always loving the wrong women, Polly had said drinking to hide her shaking hands as she washed the blood from them.

When the police call her next of kin, Tommy pretends he is as shocked as they are to know his family is all she had.

He is alone at the cemetery when he sees a woman in black come with marigolds.

Perhaps a friend, he thinks, Lizzie was alone in the world.

Alone save for them and the baby she never even knew about.

“I warned her this would happen.” The woman said, an American with a voice like cool silk.

The hairs on the back of his neck rise in intrigue, fear and anger.

“Mrs. Changretta, I presume.” He said taking out a cigarette case Lizzie had picked out for him last Christmas.

He killed her like he killed Grace and Greta and Zelda.

The sapphire was not the curse, the curse was him.

“There was no curse, your women were not interesting enough to warrant one.” The woman answered reading his mind. “Just shit luck, hence why they fell in love with you.”

Like a real witch, like his mother once used to do before the tablets and the booze and the opium turned her into something unrecognizable.

She was good looking too, in that slightly unnerving beauty that beckoned you like a moth to a flame.

No wonder Luca had married her, with a woman like that, he was God himself.

“And rich to boot. Had I not gone to the opera that evening, I would have ended up here.” She adds, being pleasant company despite being the wife of the man here to kill them all. “Maybe even have had the misfortune of falling in love with you down the line.”

“What do you want?” he asks not wanting to think what game the witch is playing at.

“Just want this to be over, same as you.” She answered as if they didn’t have vastly different meanings. “Should have let her go instead of damning them all to die, Shelby.”

“They killed my wife.” He says, as if that makes it better.

“Your wife’s killer wasn’t one of ours, he hadn’t been lying, you know. Just like Lizzie wasn’t lying either.” The woman smirked. “You knew that, not then, but later when it was already done and no turning back.

First rule of this world is not to be taken in by appearances, and every damn time you fall for the veneer.

First Grace, then Solomons and Sabini, the shooter, the Russians and now Lizzie.”

“If you wanted her dead, you could’ve done it yourself.” He exhaled wishing nothing more than to take the revolver to his head, feel the cold steel on his temple and feel the thrill of pulling the fucking trigger.

But then he always remembers Charlie and Lizzie and he puts it down. Goes to them and remembers there are people he lives for.

This time there won’t be anyone to keep him from ending his miserable life.

The Changrettas wanted him to die even if he won.

“’s good strategy you have, even if you lose, you win.” He points out, as a man who likes competence, at least it’s a comfort to know his enemies are not winning by blind luck, but by skill.

Campbell only won because he didn’t know Tommy would have fallen for such a lousy spy in the first place.

Had Tommy not been so vulnerable when Grace came dressed in lies, everything would have been so different.

So many dead or gone from his life because he loved the wrong woman.

“Never caught your name, Mrs. Changretta.” He brings up when the woman turned to leave.

“Eva. Eva Changretta.”

“Polly’s lying to you.” Eva said the moment she smelled her on his clothes when he returned from the nightclub he met Polly Gray at.

He had a drink and a dance with her, and Eva had put flowers on the grave of Tommy’s lover and victim.

“This isn’t my first vendetta, you know.” He reminds her, trying to kiss her as she took off his vest.

“I know, but it doesn’t hurt to remind you.” The witch said moving out of the way before he could do so.

“Are you jealous, maga?” he asks recognizing fully well the telltale signs of her jealousy.

Luca will remind her she is the only woman he wants in his bed.

Could remind her right on the desk, or the chair, the door, anywhere they want without the children killing the mood.

Can’t remember the last time they had the luxury to be loud and go as long as they want.

They’re getting a nanny after this.

“You would be the same if I had been the one dancing so closely with Tommy Shelby.” Eva answered, knowing he could not fault her with such a good argument.

“If he even touched you, he’d be a dead man.” Luca nuzzled her neck, kissing and biting her so they know she is his property.

Only fair he gets to mark her after she marked him this morning.

“If you fuck the aunt, I will fuck the nephew.” The witch warns as things take their natural progression.

“You’re gorgeous when you’re jealous, it’s a good color on you, Evucca.” He smirked.

“Met his wife this morning. She claims the shooter wasn’t one of theirs.” Tommy lights another cigarette and offers Polly one of his.

“Luca said Lizzie was a taste of what’s to come.” Polly supplied with a sigh.

Hands hadn’t stopped shaking since that night.

Esme called saying Lizzie and her baby had been haunting her. Esme hadn’t known about the baby.

We killed an innocent, Polly, they made us kill an innocent, Esme had said in a panic.

Lizzie had not been lying, just as Vincente Changretta hadn’t either.

Now they pay the fucking price.

And what a heavy prize it is.

If she must choose between her son or Tommy, Polly knows he won’t blame her for it.

[fili-oeuvre]

🖊️ mandatory Yen request✨

The one who climbed his way up to being my top OC (alongside Bingwen)

I had no idea about him at first, I made him a spur of creativity and the thought of “so what’s the deal with Bingwen’s family?”

He went from a murderous fox demon who is on quasi-good terms with Bing to being a big brother who practically raised Bing all by himself (their mother sucks) and well he’s still a murderous fox demon who eats the people he flirts with/goes on dates with (which is really just normal for fox demons)

And he is way too self sacrificial for his own good, both him and Bing got a brand of self-sacrifice that they really should work on…..

And he’s in a qpr relationship with his best friend, Yiliu and he’s probably a little bit obsessed with him but not the creepy kind of obsession, more of the “I will do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING for you�� and “your presence just makes everything better,” he just really loves him

He’s also got people crushing on him and practically fawning over him everywhere he goes, his charm is at max level and it’s just too powerful, he thinks it’s really funny though how they fall over themselves and try to impress him

But he hates being called pet names by any of them (that’s a right reserved for certain people only)

He probably looks like a typical villain in an adventure series that the protagonist would run into and almost be seduced by until Yeshen reveals his “true colors” (he tries to kill and eat them) and then they have a epic fight before Yeshen runs away and just starts popping up in places and annoying them a lot and sometimes helping them and sometimes just laughing at their misfortune because he thinks it’s funny to watch

But he also has a huge soft spot for children and he would drop everything he’s doing to help one or protect them or cook a hungry child a meal (he’s a really good cook), and his big brother energy is so powerful that I can never picture him being a dad

And he’s actually an uncle, since Bingwen has an adopted son named Xiushu (nicknamed Xiu), so add chaotic uncle energy to him

So yeah, I love Yeshen, he’s fun :3

[crownmemes]

Jules Verne Sentences

(Sentences from Jules Verne. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"If there were no thunder, men would have little fear of lightning."

"It was obvious that the matter had to be settled, and evasions were distasteful to me."

"There are no impossible obstacles; there are just stronger and weaker wills."

"A wicked man is distrustful, and fear is commonly found in those who are able to inspire it."

"In the presence of nature's grand convulsions, man is powerless."

"While there is life, there is hope."

"Death, the beginning of eternal things, is only the end of earthly cares."

"Where others have failed, I will not fail."

"I dream with my eyes open."

"He who is mistaken in an action which he sincerely believes to be right may be an enemy, but retains our esteem."

"As for difficulties, they were made to be overcome."

"To a poet, a pearl is a tear of the sea."

"Reality provides us with facts so romantic that imagination itself could add nothing to them."

"The chance which now seems lost may present itself at the last moment."

"It is only when you suffer that you truly understand."

"Everything has an end. Everything passes away."

"Nature's creative power is far beyond man's instinct of destruction."

"Solitude is a sad thing, with no heart to which to confide your griefs."

"I feel that we should always put a little art into what we do. It's better that way."

"I say, you do have a heart!"

"It is a great misfortune to be alone."

"What use are the best of arguments when they can be destroyed by force?"

"The human mind delights in grand conceptions of supernatural beings."

"It seems wisest to assume the worst from the beginning and let anything better come as a surprise"

"We may brave human laws, but we cannot resist natural ones."

"The sea is everything."

"A true Englishman doesn't joke when he is talking about so serious a thing as a wager."

"One friend is always sacrificed to the other in friendship."

[donnerpartyofone]

I just had the misfortune of seeing that 100k post where someone is commanding Twitter migrants to reblog all the fan art they see, on the premise that if an artist has a reblog:like ratio of 1/50 or something then they'll be so discouraged that they'll quit. OP then reblogs their own post to say that there's someone who sometimes reblogs the first post 200 times a day--which like, my reaction to that was "wow that's completely unhinged and not good", but what OP meant was that we should all cater to whatever that person wants to make them happy. I generally don't see the point in yelling at strangers on the internet, but I really had to restrain myself from pointing out that this was the stated motivation on the Staff post about fucking with the chronological feed: that if we all have too much power to curate what we see, then some users will feel unpopular. Which is like, completely normal and acceptable, in reality. There are just so many problems with this attitude:

Nobody owes you attention. Most people don't enjoy random waves of applause just for existing, and most of us have learned to live with this and place importance on things other then validation from strangers.

If your principle reason for making art is NOT the art-making itself, and if you know that you would stop making art if it never got you some form of fame and fortune, then you should literally stop making art. Just stop right now, and find something to do that is more rewarding and less psychologically perilous for you.

If you have ever tried to work in any creative industry at all, then you should know that it can take absolutely forever to get good at something. And it might never happen. And even if it does happen and you turn out to be a genius, still, people might not notice or care--especially if you're really original. There's a reason it's become cliche for people to remind each other of how famous writer X wasn't published until he was 50 or famous painter Y only became important posthumously. If you can't take the heat, see above.

If you're just begging your personal friends to help circulate your work, that's between you and them. But you can't order people who just got to this platform five minutes ago to fill up their accounts with stuff that maybe they like enough to hit the like button, but they don't like it enough to add it to their own page. People are allowed to like your art on a limited basis.

If you're so emotionally dependent on popularity that you think its acceptable to strong-arm strangers into shilling for you, then you should probably take some time to get to know yourself better and figure that out, before you rake yourself over the coals of social media conflict about it. I used to have a mutual (not an artist, just a guy) who had really serious behavioral problems in this department: One day I reblogged a very popular post that had been making the rounds, and suddenly this guy was up my ass with righteous anger about why I didn't reblog it from him personally. I actually took the time to explain that the post itself was doing a lot of traffic, I had no idea that he was one of the thousands of people who had reblogged it, and I can't bother to go combing through his blog every time I see something I like just in case I can reblog it from him individually. Incredibly, he didn't even get what I was saying, he was so invested in the idea that I should conscientiously use my blog to pay tribute to him, and eventually I had to block him for being rude like this all the time, and he was really sad about it. Don't be like that guy.

And finally, the post I'm referring to counted as art things like gif sets and "edits" (a vague concept I think barely counts as creative work but whatever) from TV shows and all kinds of other fan posts. And like, that is just a bridge too far. I shouldn't even have to explain why. And I won't.

[novelmonger]

Book Review: The Soul Mirror by Carol Berg

Quote that should have been on the back of the book: "Do not breathe a word about these books! For your life, Ani! Do not trust ANYONE. I've set events in motion. Heed both mind and heart to understand."

Or maybe: "I wished I had more faith in saints and angels. The daemons I already knew."

Not for the back of the book, but a quote I really liked: "Ilario's moment of grace was but a single treasure in a chest of worries."

Premise: After her father was exposed as a traitor to the crown through his involvement in a heinous ritual of sorcery, Anne de Vernase thought she would live out her days in seclusion on her family's estate, alone but for two loyal servants. Her father is in hiding. Her mother has gone mad. Her brother is imprisoned by the king, and her sister has just died in a mysterious accident at the school of magic where she was studying. before she can even begin to grieve this latest in a long series of misfortunes, Anne is summoned to the capital city, Merona, to serve as a lady-in-waiting to the queen. Her life of solitude and peace is shattered, as she is soon embroiled in a sinister plot that threatens the kingdom--or even the world.

Thoughts: This is the second book in Carol Berg's Collegia Magica trilogy, and as I thoroughly enjoyed The Spirit Lens, I wasn't at all surprised that the sequel was engaging from the beginning. What did surprise me (in a most pleasant way!) was that the main character is actually the daughter of the villain from the first book. It was really interesting to see the protagonist of the first book (and a couple of his allies and friends) instantly painted as cold and suspicious people that this new protagonist doesn't trust or like--at least at first. That being said, Anne herself was a very sympathetic and likable protagonist; she's smart and strong-willed, and it's so understandable that she doesn't like these people, because they put her father on trial in the last book and ruined her life!

The setting is one of my favorite things about this trilogy. It's set in a country loosely based on Renaissance Italy/France/Spain(?). So you've got all the lovely trappings of royal castles and palaces, rife with court intrigue, but there are advances in science and technology that herald changes in the near future. Add to all of that some magic that is real but not everyone believes in, and you've got all the setup you need for a fascinating story.

The mystery that unfolds in this story was engaging and excellently paced--the perfect kind of mystery, where all of the clues are given, and most of the revelations I figured out just before Anne did. That meant I got the double benefit of feeling a rush of triumph while simultaneously ramping up the tension when it hadn't clicked for the characters yet, with no frustration at characters being too stupid or the clues not making any sense. I really ought to study how she did that, because I thought it was brilliantly done.

But, as with most stories, the characters made this story for me. As a sequel, The Soul Mirror got to benefit from the reader already knowing some of the characters from the first book. Portier was just as interesting and reliable of a character from the outside, despite not being present for a lot of Anne's exploits and not being someone whose motives she trusts for quite a while. My favorite character from the first book, Ilario de Sylvae, was as wonderful and fun as ever--someday (maybe when I reread this trilogy) I need to write up a post about how Ilario healed a fresh book-wound in me--and I was so glad he got such a big part to play in this one. And really, all of the side characters, old and new, were so vibrant--from the conniving Lady Antonia to the earnest and helpful Ella, from the gallant and stammering doctor Roussel to the vile and disgusting Lord Gurmeddion. I was never bored for a single page, with this cast of characters.

If any of this sounds interesting--if you like court intrigue, intricate magical rituals, creepy night-time explorations of castles, and enough twists and turns to keep you on your toes till the end--then consider picking up this book! You could actually probably read this on its own without The Spirit Lens, since everything you need to know gets explained in this book...but why would you? The Spirit Lens is also an excellent book.

[shining-gem34]

Mallory, what do you know of the old gods? The ones that came before you, born from the slumbering abyss? What do you think of them?

Musing with Anons || Accepted

Interview of the Gods and Goddesses featuring Mallory (I)

As a precaution, Mallory checks his surroundings for any eavesdroppers before he peers at the parchment again. They were questions that any mortal, even ones that turn their backs on their gods, would have some knowledge of. Somehow, he has a feeling they're searching for a different answer.

But, why him, a God of Misfortune, of all people?

Still, it is rare for anyone to seek him out for knowledge. He'll indulge their curiosities for a bit.

Besides, his mistress didn't force him to sign any non-disclosure agreement contracts regarding this topic.

"I know about as much as any other deity. There are gods much older than me, such as my mistress, Lady Papillio. However, she is not born from the abyss. She was created by a certain Goddess to promise equality between two or more parties during a chaotic era. As for her methods, that choice belongs to her- by creating contracts. But many mortals started associating her with the underworld because she chose to stay there most of the time."

If you ask him why she decided to stay in the underworld, Mallory will shake his head as if he doesn't know the answer either. He can make a few guesses, but he'll miss the mark.

He blinks and realizes he forgot to add something, "If you don't know already, which I won't blame you for: I am Lady Papillio's servant. My general opinion of her...I do not hate or like her, she rescued me on a whim for her own entertainment. But at the end of the day, I am indebted to her."

If you try to prod him for more details regarding the nature of his relationship with his mistress, Mallory doesn't elaborate any further and continues.

"Anyone older than my mistress...There is her lady friend, a fellow goddess: Lady Lillith, the Overseer of the Underworld. You can curse her or sympathize with her, but she- Well, I can't say she won't care too much. She is the statue you pitiful fools pray to for vengeance against someone, especially if your love is slighted. Personally, I wouldn't dare to cross her...openly at least so I am keeping my inner thoughts to myself."

Mallory had to pause and think briefly about Lady Lillith's origins. The many oral tales of her beginning are vague and embellished for dramatics than the truth. He has a feeling perhaps his mistress may know since they're good friends, but he dares not ask without walking into another contract. Asking the Overseer of the Underworld herself is less than pleasing since Mallory avoids her as much as he can.

Right, moving on...

"I'll answer one more and end it here for now. Since we're still on the topic of the Underworld..."

The air shifts dangerously, Mallory's golden eyes narrow revealing his pure disdain for the next topic. He crosses his arms and begins.

"I'm sure you're familiar with the name 'Soul-Eater', yes? Though he's not a god. Oh no, he's something much, much worse than any immortals. His true name is Abythes, the embodiment of corruption that has existed since the beginning of time. He wanders around the underworld eating the souls of the damned. Horrible, am I right? A hideous creature whose appetite can never be satisfied. If only there was a way to destroy him for good...Ah, don't mind my musings."

A long sigh escapes Mallory because this is the longest he has talked. He should find something to drink after this to sate his parched throat.

"Fortunately for you mortals living in the overworld, Abythe's existence is chained to the deepest part of the underworld. Unfortunately, his spawns are a different story. Unlike their father, they freely wander between the worlds and middle with no consequences."

Then, the God of Misfortune smiles so sharply that it can cut stone.

"Don't you think we, the ones cursed by corruption, are better off gone? After all, we are evil except..."

Mallory's expression falls, golden eyes turning distant as he gazes in the general direction where he knows the first snow will drop. He seems almost wistful.

"...That child is different from us. He deserves to live his life to the fullest with his beloved far away from the corrupted ones."

A small bow from the God of Misfortune before his form disappears in a flurry of black crow feathers.

Until next time, my pitiful lambs.