#i'm going all the way back i'm getting right to the source

[pineconepie]

CHARACTERS: Lux, you/reader

WARNINGS/TAGS: Cults, plane crash, vague religious themes (not to any religion in particular), parental yandere, isolation, false idols, death, blood, gender neutral reader, infantilization, developing stockholm syndrome, manipulation

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one was a popular request! While not one of my favorite yandads, I really did enjoy writing a scenario like this, probably one of my more unique ones so far! Let me know if I forgot any warnings or if you'd like one to be added! I'm pretty sure its obvious I hardly proofread this past a brief look-over ^^;

It all happened so very quickly; one moment, you're just scrolling through your phone with your headphones in and listening to music, occasionally glancing outside of the plane's window to admire the view of the forestry below you.

The next thing you know, there's an explosion coming from the airplane engine. Everything starts shaking rapidly, people screaming as they quickly put on their seatbelts and look for oxygen masks—yourself included.

However, it is no use. The airplane makes a loud nose-dive towards the ground, and before you could even process what was happening, everything goes black.

...

You feel like death warmed over.

When you awake, there is an immediate burning sensation that fills your entire body, particularly your left arm. It feels broken. In fact, all of you feels broken. You feel as if your body has been run over by several trucks. Your face is throbbing.

What the hell happened?

You manage to lift your head. There's blood and bodies everywhere, some of the blood is definitely your own. No one else seems awake, or even alive.

There are small fires surrounding you that provide light in the dark forest. One wing of the plane was blown completely off, but it looks like you're still close to where most of the plane is gathered.

Even if it hurts like hell, you manage to somehow get up on your own two feet.

With the little amount of strength you have, you stumble out of the plane and collapse on the dirt floor outside of the area.

You are panting heavily, looking around at your surroundings. Your entire body screams with agony, every time you breathe, you're inhaling ash.

Despite having just woken up, you already feel yourself about to pass out again from the pain. You stumble as far away as you can from the plane, looking for any other survivors. Surely it can't just be you, right?

Wrong.

No matter how much you look, you don't see anyone even close to being conscious. Not one.

That's when it hits you like a bus—you're going to die.

You fall to your knees, clutching your chest in terror. All that you were able to process before the crash happened was the explosion. Now, all you know is that you're stranded, possibly hundreds of miles away from any sort of civilization.

What makes it worse is the fact that your arm is probably broken, meaning that there is no way for you to defend yourself from anything that lurks in this godforsaken place.

But knowing how doomed you are, is there really any use in that, anyway?

No... The best option would just be to curl into a ball and give up on life right here, right now. You lay on the grass, clutching one of your many wounds, shutting your eyes.

The sound of footsteps and horses galloping makes them snap back open.

Your head immediately whips to where the source of the sound is coming from. Your first thought is other survivors of the crash who woke up the same way you did.

That idea is crushed, however, when you look closer only to find that these people are clothed weirdly—in odd dark green robes with some kind of golden symbol engraved on it.

It doesn't take a genius to realize that these people aren't survivors like yourself.

These people must've been waiting for someone in this forest.

And even if their faces are hidden beneath the cloak, you know their eyes are all glued to you.

Your blood turns ice cold. You try to stand back up, but the searing pain prevents you from doing so, which only results in you falling down to the grass again.

Now, you regret not giving up on life earlier.

These people are getting closer, making a circle around your bloody state.

"Look, Father!" One of them speaks. Their voice is muffled behind the hood over his mouth. "I told you! We heard an explosion nearby!"

Father?

All of a sudden, a taller figure emerges from the group. His attire is slightly different than the rest—the robe appears lighter colored with more intricate designs on it.

He lifts his hood off of his head, revealing a man in his mid to late-forties staring down at you with a grin on his face. He has long blond hair tied in a low ponytail and green eyes that glow in the light of the flames from the crashed plane.

The man's expression turns from neutral to glee. "My dream was correct!" he cheers, causing everyone else surrounding him to do the same. "The Gods have blessed me with a child!"

A what now? You try crawling backwards away from them, shaking your head frantically. You attempt to open your mouth to say something, anything, but your vocal cords don't seem to be working after screaming bloody murder during the crash. Instead, your thoughts come out as coughs from smoke inhalation.

"Oh, my baby," he croons, kneeling beside your injured body. "Don't be afraid, little one. Papa's here now."

"They're injured, Father Lux," one of them states the obvious.

Despite that being obvious from one glance, it seems this man, Lux, was too happy to even realize until it was pointed out. His expression turns concerned, looking over your tattered self.

You try backing up from him again, but a few cultists gather around behind you so that you have nowhere to escape to.

"Poor thing, you must've been so scared." He tuts, grabbing you by your intact arm gently, examining all of your wounds. "Those burns are going to need treatment. And..." His hand hovers over your broken limb. "This will certainly need medical attention as well."

"Should we carry them back?" another follower asks.

He thinks about it. "I'll bring them on my horse back to camp. Opal, you follow, just in case." She nods. "The rest of you salvage the airplane for any useful parts."

"And if there's other survivors?" one of them asks.

Lux smiles eerily, shooting a glare in the direction of the plane.

"There are none," he tells them firmly. "But if there are, put them out of their misery quickly. They were not in the prophecy." His eyes turn to you, softening immensely. "Let us get you somewhere safe and sound, shall we?" He kisses your bloody forehead. "Welcome home, little one."

Without another word, he scoops you into his arms and carries you bridal-style towards his tan horse. The entire time, he coos at you sweetly.

It's a miracle you've even stayed conscious for so long. Finally, you black out with Lux stroking your face with his fingers as your head rests against his chest.

...

You wake up yet again feeling like death itself.

Although this time, instead of the sounds of screams filling the air, it's replaced by silence accompanied by chirping birds and crickets outside. The burning hot sensation still remains on your skin, but it has decreased significantly from earlier. Your body is covered in bandages all over, and your arm is now in a secure cast.

Even better, you're no longer laying down on grass or dirt, but rather on a comfortable mattress. As your vision becomes less fuzzy, you can see that the room around you isn't familiar either—it's furnished with various paintings and candles.

It's very clean.

You also find that your outfit has changed—you're no longer wearing your bloodied clothes, but rather an oversized cloak similar to the one Lux was wearing.

At this realization, memories of last night's events flood into your mind.

Oh, no. The airplane, the crash, the green robed-cult people—

You notice that your throat is dry. There's a glass of water placed nearby. Despite how painful it is to lift your arm, you muster enough strength to sip the glass and hydrate yourself.

As soon as you place the cup down, however, a new figure enters the room through the door. One you recognize.

"There you are, my baby." The tall man from before approaches you. He's not wearing his cloak this time, but what resembles more of a surcoat. "How was your nap?"

You swallow your own spit in attempt to soothe your dry throat. "What is going on?" is all you can rasp.

"Aww," he coos, walking closer and sitting at your bedside. He strokes your cheek with the tip of his index finger. "Don't you remember, little one? Your airplane crashed last night, and you were nearly torn to shreds."

Torn to shreds is quite the exaggeration, but okay.

"Okay, but," you practically cough out, "who are you? Where am I?"

Lux chuckles. "Everyone here calls me Father Lux, as I am the founder and prophet of this society." His smile grows wider. "As for who I am to you, that would be 'Papa.'"

"I... I have no idea what you mean," you state honestly.

He keeps that smile that you could only describe as eerie. "Despite my followers calling me 'Father', I never viewed them as my actual children. I always longed for a child of my own. Every night, I prayed to the Gods for one. So imagine my surprise when they informed me in a dream of your arrival. When you would come falling from the skies!" He places a kiss on your head. "Oh, I am so very grateful. Even if it weren't in the prophecy, I would have adopted you on the spot regardless, sweetheart. But alas, destiny spoke and gave you to me." He holds both of your hands in his with a loving stare.

You pull away from him immediately, hissing from the pain of your burns and broken bones as a result. "I'm not your child!" you cry out.

Lux's cheerful expression suddenly morphs into a firm scowl. "That wasn't very nice," he says sternly.

"You don't understand," you croak. "I need to get home. Please."

"Honey..." he places a hand on your cheek. "Home is where I am."

Your heart sinks. This guy is insane, you conclude.

And unfortunately for you, insane people aren't exactly reasonable.

Still, you try. "I'm not even a child! Look at me, I'm an adult!"

He just coos at you. "The outside world really corrupted you, didn't it? They fail to acknowledge not all adults are fully developed mentally. And when it is acknowledged, its only to bring shame." Lux shakes his head disapprovingly. "Little ones should not be ostracized in society. Everyone develops at their own pace. Some will mature slower than others. There's no harm in embracing being younger than you are."

You shake your head back and forth. "This is absurd," you tell him desperately.

"Even if I were to let you go, where would you go to?" he asks.

A lump forms in your throat. That's a good question, actually. You have absolutely no idea where you're currently located or how to get anywhere from here.

"Let me tell you something," Lux continues. "We're in dense mountains, deep within forests and surrounded by animals who won't hesitate to devour you alive in an instant. Not to mention, the nearest civilization from here is miles away. I know, because that's the exact reason I chose this place." He strokes your cheek, looking at you with faux concern. "So why don't you take a second to rethink your options here?"

There's a tight knot forming in your chest.

He's right. You literally have no other choice but to stay here.

"What does this cult even believe in?" you challenge, but there's no more anger to your tone. Primarily defeat.

"Cult?" Lux tilts his head to the side. "Oh, silly, this is not a 'cult.' A cult implies we are some sort of strange, extremist religion."

You furrow your eyebrows.

"This," he motions his hands in the air, "is simply a sanctuary. A community." Lux pauses to look down at you. "As for our beliefs, well, everyone is free to believe their own thing, because everyone has a different interpretation of the Gods."

"Then what's your point in being here?" you ask, exasperated.

"Well, there's something we do all collectively believe in. Peace, love, acceptance." He brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Something that you, little one, are very unfamiliar with. I'm here to help everyone else—including you—to escape from all that chaos and destruction."

"From the sounds of it, you're just making yourself out to be a god, talking about dreams and prophecies," you retort. "It seems all these people believe you."

Lux nods. "I suppose that's another thing all my followers can agree on; I'm simply a messenger, someone chosen to lead them in the right direction. But I am no God, sweetheart." He kisses your forehead once more. "Just a vessel of sorts."

You want to tell him he's insane. That this entire place is a complete madhouse.

However, that doesn't seem like the greatest idea at this point. For all you know, this man may be capable of things far worse than death.

Not that you'd have much of an option, anyway. All you can do is sit in this bed as your wounds heal painfully slowly.

"Listen, sweetheart," he whispers. "I promise, you're going to love it here. There are many others your age for you to play with. Here, you don't have to worry about a single thing in life aside from living, breathing, and being loved every moment."

You gulp at that.

"But you don't even know me," you whisper back shakily. "None of you know me."

"On the contrary," he argues. "While you rested, I asked some of my followers to gather identification documents of other victims to bury along with their bodies." Lux pulls out a piece of paper that turns out to be your ID card. "(Y/n) (L/n)," he reads, grinning. "Though, now I suppose that'd be (Y/n) Sampson. My surname, if you weren't aware. It's your surname now as well."

All of a sudden, tears begin pricking your eyes. You can't even wipe them with your injured arm.

Lux quickly uses his own thumbs to brush them away from your cheeks.

"It'll be okay," he coos, pulling your fragile self into an embrace. "You're going to thrive here. I'll make sure of it."

If anything is true, it's that you definitely won't be thriving. Or keeping your sanity, for that matter.

...

For the first few weeks, you remain bedridden, with only minimal ability to walk around due to your injuries.

The house you both reside in is bigger than all the other's houses, you assume. It's a cabin-style cottage made of logs. It appears to have several bedrooms and other amenities such as running water.

Yet no phones, televisions, radios—basically anything related to communicating with the outside world. No form of entertainment.

Well, there's Lux, but you'd hardly call him entertaining.

On the plus side, the area surrounding this small commune is incredibly gorgeous.

There's an endless array of forestry, hills, mountains, and wildlife. There are even certain areas where wildflowers grow. And that isn't to mention the incredible views of sunrises and sunsets every day, even if only outside of your window.

Sure, most of the time, the scenery is blocked by high trees. But it's better than nothing.

Occasionally, Lux will allow you to step outside the house with him and accompany him in strolls around the perimeter.

Today is one of those days.

"This is the best part of living out here, if you ask me," he tells you as the two of you stroll through the gardens. "Look around, angel. Beautiful flowers bloom everywhere, every single day. Gods truly are magnificent beings. You can see their artistry shining through everything." His hand finds yours, locking together.

The only thing that prevents you from recoiling from the touch is the fact that you know it's a losing battle.

Since that fateful night, you've learned quite a lot about this place.

Firstly, you have a bedtime that cannot be broken for any reason whatsoever.

Secondly, Lux does indeed consider himself your father, but gets upset if you do call him "Father". That's something only for his followers, as he genuinely believes you are more than that—his actual kid. Or "baby" as he prefers to refer to you as sometimes.

Lastly, there is absolutely no way of escaping. You're hundreds of miles away from anything remotely close to civilization, and even then, Lux has eyes practically everywhere, making sneaking off impossible. Especially when everyone in the entire village is in constant awe and praise towards you.

There's no doubt in your mind that anyone would snitch on you immediately should they spot you trying to make a run for it.

So in short, you're stuck here until your untimely demise.

"Why are you so quiet, sunshine?" Lux suddenly asks.

His voice snaps you from your thoughts. You blink a few times.

"I'm thinking," you shrug.

"Mhm." Lux hums disbelievingly. "About what?"

"About my family and friends who must be worried about me." It's the only thing you have been thinking about lately. "They probably think I'm dead." Just like everyone else.

Lux drags out a long sigh. "Good. Let them think that."

Ouch.

"Do you not understand?" He stops in place. "You and I were destined to meet. It was fate that brought you into my arms that night. All of it happened for a reason." He cups your face in his large palms, tilting your head up to look into his green eyes. "Do you really think its a coincidence that not only did you survive a plane crash where most died, but that it had to crash in these mountains? In this location of all places?" He clicks his tongue. "Nothing happens unintentionally."

You narrow your eyes at him, ready to give him a snarky remark in response, but think about his words. "'Most'? So you're saying some did?"

"Hm?"

"You said most died."

He stiffens momentarily, almost as if debating on telling you the truth. "Some did live after the fall," he admits eventually. "Not everyone, of course. Only a few. But they were in pain. Too much pain that could be helped. The medic only has so many supplies, all that should be used on you."

You freeze, giving him a wide-eyed gaze.

"Lux," you barely choke out the name, "are you saying that you killed them? When they were still alive?"

"'Papa'," he corrects. "And it was mercy kills. It was better this way, honey. Imagine having survived an airplane crash, but in agony with limited medical care."

"So if I weren't in your stupid prophecy, you would've killed me too?"

"No." Lux says it with absolute certainty. "Whether you were or weren't, you would be right here, with me." He presses a kiss to your temple. "Even when they are dead, the outside world still wishes to tear our bond... now no more talk of that dreadful place and situation. We're supposed to be enjoying this beautiful evening together."

...

More days pass, though you aren't sure how many. It feels like its been forever, but its likely only been three weeks at most.

Either way, you miss the outside world. A lot. Never did you think you'd be saying that.

You miss your family. Your friends. Technology. Entertainment.

But alas, none of that can happen out here, in this stupid mountain cult society with their insane leader.

Their insane leader that wants to adopt you as his own child, apparently.

You're allowed to go outside more often now, but he always appoints someone to watch over you and supervise every move you make. After all, you're supposedly the equivalent of a toddler, so you need constant supervision. Like toddlers often do.

The people your age or older get to choose if they still wish to be treated as children or like adults. You don't mind that, but you wish you got the same option of choice they did. You're often forced to play with them outside.

From the looks of it, it'll be hard to escape. Not only are you doomed from a geographical standpoint, but there are always guards, even at nighttime.

Yet perhaps luck will be on your side. Maybe if you get out of here, you can find the crash site. All planes have some kind of way to track them, right? Maybe they are looking for you. You know they'll likely assume you're dead if they don't find you at the wreckage.

Even then, its not like you're on an island. Maybe you'll find hikers, or someone who isn't insane who lives here.

You decide its worth trying only after you're more physically healed.

"Stargazing?" Lux asks you suddenly.

He's standing nearby on the porch of your shared cottage home, sipping some hot beverage. Probably tea. Its chilly, and there's a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

You nod wordlessly. You have to admit that its probably prettier than the view back where you live. Less smog and air pollution blocking everything.

Lux smiles, putting his cup down to join you. He wraps one arm around you to keep you close.

"These mountains provide us with such peace," he states. "Away from cities and towns full of chaos, where we can bask in nature without the stresses of society plaguing us. I think you're already healing because of it."

"Healing," you echo bitterly.

"Indeed." He tilts his head upwards towards the starry sky. "Isn't this so much better than looking at your phone? Than hearing traffic noises at ungodly hours of the night? No stressful paperwork, no worries about working nine to five just to have a roof over your head or decent living conditions?"

You want to disagree, but you can't. Because technically, he isn't wrong. It is nice. Even if you'd prefer your other life to this.

But maybe you can change the topic to something useful.

"Do hikers come by a lot? Or outsiders, in general?" you ask.

He shakes his head. "I know what you're thinking. And no, sorry to disappoint you. The last outsider we had was about two or so years ago."

You grimace, looking down at the dirt.

"Your home is here," Lux continues, kissing your temple. "You have no responsibilities here. You can play all the games you want, make all the friends you desire, enjoy the beauty of the outdoors every morning until nightfall. And most importantly, you're safe, cherished, and adored. How could you ever wish for anything else? Do you think you have a family out there that loves you more than I do?"

"You don't love me. Besides knowing my name, you don't know anything about me," you mutter.

Lux gives a light smile. "I've been urging you to tell me more about myself, it isn't my fault you little ones are so stubborn; but I don't need to know everything about you to know that this is what you need. Here, you have a warm bed to sleep on every night. Plenty of food to eat. Fresh, clean air, a caring father, and lots of friends."

"I don't even know them," you reply curtly.

"You will in due time." Lux runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly. "You shouldn't think so much. Leave those matters to me, all right?"

...

Its been about a month and a half when you're feeling much better physically.

Mentally, well... you'd rather not think about that.

Every few days, the cult has some kind of celebration. Everyone is singing, dancing, eating, laughing. There are bonfires, flower arrangements, all of it.

You never participate, despite all the coaxing. But given you plan to escape tonight, you might as well. Maybe you can give Lux the false notion that you're beginning to enjoy it here.

Then, when everyone is having a good time, you can just slip away and pray the guards are too distracted to notice you.

As soon as Lux sees you shuffle outside to the event, he lights up.

"(Y/n)!" he exclaims happily. He's wearing a much more bright robe, as the rest of the people are, as well as a flower crown out of sunflowers resting upon his head. He takes a glass of grape juice and offers it to you, which you accept.

"How lovely it is to see you joining us!" he continues.

"Just felt like being social today," you lie with a shrug.

He claps his hands together giddily. "Oh! I knew you would adjust!" Lux brings you into an unexpected embrace that crushes your bones.

You force yourself not to wince or recoil, and instead lightly hug back.

Lux proudly shows you off to everyone. They all greet you excitedly. You respond, though with far less enthusiasm. The entire time, your eyes scan every inch of the area, trying to find out the best route to run away through, and where all the guards are located.

At some point, you don't even feel as if you're faking your enjoyment.

Everyone is so eager to hear what you have to say, and the food is delicious. You even end up wearing one of the flower crowns one of the other little ones (as they are referred to by Lux), put on your head.

Unfortunately, before you can even slip away from everyone, you end up exhausted, plopping yourself onto Lux's lap while he eats by one of the bonfires.

He seems shocked at this, and you are as well by your own actions, but he wraps his strong arms around you and pulls you closer to his chest.

"Oh, look how tired my sweet baby is," he coos. "Looks like it's past your bedtime."

Despite everything, you sigh contentedly and lean against him.

Maybe just this once is fine. After all, you haven't done this since you were actually a child. Plus, you're exhausted.

Tomorrow is another day, and this definitely isn't the last celebration they'll be having.

"It was so wonderful to see you smiling and laughing tonight," he tells you, brushing the hair out of your face. "And the other little ones were so happy to see you. I think you have the entire community wrapped around your finger." He boops your nose. "Including myself, of course."

"Is (Y/n) tired? I was gonna show them the kites we were making earlier today!" one of the littles exclaims to Lux.

He smiles. "Sorry, little one, it appears so. I think it's not far off from your bedtimes too." He helps you up, keeping a firm hand around you to support you and your sleepy state.

Once you get home, he tucks you in your bed, gently removing the flower crown to place on your nightstand.

"Sweet dreams, sunshine. Thank you for spending the day with us, it meant the world to everyone. Especially Papa." He leans down to kiss the top of your head. "I love you so, so very much."

With that, he blows out the candles and closes the door behind him.

You'll escape, you're still sure of it. Just... not tonight.

[leafy-heart]

Things I noticed on my rewatch of the Thunderbolts*

John Walker says "Hey, go easy on him." to Yelena, when Yelena is going off on Alexei for not showing up for her

→ Might be reading too deep but is he saying this because he's also a father that wasn't there for his kid?

John Walker talks too much most of the time. I don't know how to explain this, but usually what he's trying to convey is not wrong, but he uses excessive words. Probably over compensating for the lack of his confidence

Bucky saying "This isn't right." when Bob's shame room (Malaysia) starts expanding.

→ On the first watch I thought he was expressing a general concern, but on my second watch I'm wondering if he meant "It's not right for Bob to sacrifice himself."

Valentina exclusively called Bob "Robert"

Valentina did not care for the impeachment at all after she discovered Bob, and was probably willing to force herself to power with Sentry, not just for good press.

Bucky somehow appeared behind Alexei's limo, meaning that a) he flew in by himself, b) he sneaked into Valentina's crew, my bet is on a) but with the help of Sam Wilson

Bucky is so on the toe about Valentina all the time, he keeps saying "You don't know what Valentina is capable of", which makes me wonder what he knows about her past

Ava was the first one to follow after Yelena, and I thought it was because she didn't care if she lived or not. But the second watch I realised she genuinely wanted to save Yelena

Bucky is the type of person to get stuff the most effective and efficient way (bandage solutions). I used to think he was the logical type because in Captain America First Avenger, he was always trying to keep Steve from getting in trouble, but now I see he put up with Steve's troublemaking behaviours because he was similar in a way. He has to stick his neck into problems he can't stand, and he's not very creative/subtle about the solutions either. Impeachment? Get straight to the source, don't bother reading the packet. If that doesn't work, go after the evidence yourself, because who else will? A corrupt director is trying to unleash a human-made god, no prob, just crush a truck with social outcasts in the back. To put it in good words, he is straightforward no-nonsene and flexible with his plans. In reality he just wants shit to be done.

[fastcardotmp3]

athena + maddie; 1k words

"Did Bobby ever tell you much about my brother Daniel?"

Athena looks up, a flicker of a thing, before her gaze trains back on the pot of coffee she pours out into two matching mugs.

"I know he passed when you were young," Athena says, sliding one of the mugs across the island to where Maddie sits on a stool, but staying standing on her side as she lifts her own to her lips. "I know Buck didn't know about him until a few years ago."

Maddie wraps her hands around her mug and watches the steam, nods as though centering herself, and offers a melancholy smile as she lifts her eyes.

"My parents didn't want to talk about him after he died," she says. "They didn't want me to bring him up."

"That must have been very difficult."

Athena has known Maddie Buckley for quite some time, now. She has seen her through terrible things and Maddie's voice has been the guiding force to see Athena through the same.

She's a tough woman, but a woman whose toughness presents much differently than Athena's own. Maddie is unapologetically emotional in ways Athena has always been terrified of being, worried for the sort of weakness with which it would mark her.

They are both resourceful women, Athena knows this, but the resources into which they dip when they need to support themselves through the pull of a vitriolic gravity are simply different.

A For Sale sign sits in the front yard of this house built from ash and Maddie Buckley sits at the counter because she just felt like stopping by but Athena isn't sure she's ready for Maddie's version of strength. Not sure if she's ready to abandon her own.

"It was difficult," Maddie admits like a simpler thing than Athena knows it to be. "I wasn't allowed to grieve my brother. They would get-- If I even hinted at trying to talk about him, they would get so upset and I would feel so guilty for it."

"It's a lot for a child to carry," Athena breathes, because she has known Maddie for many years, and even the version of this woman she knew still on the run feels nearly childlike compared to the one she looks at before her now.

"It's a lot for anyone to carry," Maddie tells her: pointed, but gentle.

If nothing else, it drags a dry chuckle out of Athena's lungs.

If nothing else, it creates the illusion of laughter.

"I knew you weren't just stopping by for my coffee," she smiles at Maddie with a sidelong look over the lip of her mug.

Maddie shrugs. "It's good coffee either way," she says. "But you're right. I do have a point."

A faux sheepishness to it that Athena can see right through, that Maddie doesn't seem bothered by the transparency of. She's not ashamed to be here, poking at Athena's grief.

There's something refreshing about that, in spite of the rest which her presence brings to the front.

"Go on ahead," Athena motions broadly with a sweep of her hand and Maddie leans further into the counter, closing some of the distance between them.

"I know that I can't begin to understand what you're going through and I know I'm probably the last person you ever want to try and relate to with how everything played out," Maddie speaks aloud that which has been crumbling away bit by bit, with each passing day that a group photo--family photo-- has sat on the side table in an empty, echoing living room.

She is Chimney's wife, this woman. She, perhaps, was served more than anyone in Bobby's sacrifice.

Athena has been angry at Chimney. She has looked at him and seen everything she lost. She has resented him for living when Bobby didn't.

But Maddie?

Maddie has been a source of something Athena hasn't known much of in her life. Jealousy.

Her partner came home to her. She gets to go home to her partner, still.

She's right, really, that Athena does not care to relate to her, even as she's finding her stumbling way out of that pit of despair and rage which this blossoming young family instills within her.

"But I also know..." Maddie continues, all that emotion right on her face, "I know that no one wants to speak his name around you right now. I know it probably feels like playing a game of taboo, that if you talk about him, you'll only make them all feel guilty. But, Athena, what if that's the trick? I already feel guilty."

A burst of something wet and hurting bubbles out of Athena, teary like a sob but sharp like a laugh. Maddie pushes onwards with the kind of pull at her lips which somehow encompasses all the complexity of feeling in the kitchen with them. Big, brown eyes like reflections of the unspoken parts of this conversation.

"I didn't start healing from losing Daniel until I was an adult because I wasn't given the space to. My parents still haven't, I don't think, because they don't want that space," she says hoarsely. "And I don't want that for you. I want you to have the chance to feel it out loud without feeling like a burden. I don't want you to feel like you have to hide from it for our sake."

"So you'd rather I make it your burden, then?" Athena asks, coffee long forgotten and something about the tension, the release of it, making the room feel warmer than it has since that last morning when it held him. Not in an entirely pleasant way, but not the opposite either.

And Maddie Buckley is tough. She has been through the wringer.

She takes it all on board differently that Athena does, but she takes it.

"Athena," she breathes, "Whether you let me help you or not, I already am. At least make it worth something."

Tears claw their way down Athena's cheeks.

Perhaps they can share in this show of strength.

[lilmarshie]

I'm not sure if you're comfortable writing about this sort of thing yet (I'm new here!), so please disregard this if you are, but...

I'd love to request something for Bob, where his crush or girlfriend or whatever (you can decide!) is kidnapped, and they can't actually find her right away. (I'm not a huge fan of "the bad guys never even stood a chance of getting outside, there was never even a threat." I like the worry! Make them sweat a lil and actually be concerned about finding you!) Obviously, though, it can have a happy, super fluffy ending. I'd just love to see our dorky little sweetheart being the one who gets to worry for once, and not just be the one everyone worries about.

Again, if this is not the sort of thing you're looking for, please just disregard!

Hidden Agendas Prologue

A/N: Thank you for the request, anon! I hope that you enjoy! I ended up turning this into a mini fic since I felt the format fit better. So stay tuned for the subsequent chapters coming out within the next few days or whenever I have time to post them.

Bob Reynolds x Journalist! Reader

‼️‼️ Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, violence ‼️‼️

Being an investigative journalist you were known city wide for your compelling and unique reporting. One day, you come across an organization that seems a bit suspicious, so you decide to look into it. Come to find out, this organization is dealing with some shady people, and have been for years now. You share your findings with Bob, fully knowing the risks of doing so, but you trust in his ability to help you if things went south.

“Sweetheart…you need to think about these stories you’re chasing after. I couldn’t bear to lose you because you’re going after a suspected terror organization…I can’t protect you all the time and I’m scared.” Bob confessed to you after you had explained to him that you found the organization’s secret hideout. “I know, my love. I understand the risks that come with this line of work. And I’ll call you if anything were to happen. You know that.” You replied, running your fingers through his hair soothingly. Bob sighed and pulled you in close for a hug, planting a kiss on your forehead. “I love you. Please be careful.” He whispered, as he turned to look at you. Bob’s eyes were tired and he looked extremely worried. “I will. I love you too, sweetheart.” You promised, before kissing him again as you curled into his arms for bed that night.

Bob leaves for work early that day, and you start to get ready for work a little bit later that morning. As you are getting changed, you hear a crash and a thud coming from the living room. You instantly go into defensive mode and grab a small handgun from the side table and make your way to the source of the sound. Slowly but surely you make your way into the kitchen where you see that the tables and chairs are all thrown around and slammed up against the walls. As you proceed forward, all of a sudden a huge hand clamps over your mouth and you shriek in fright. A low and gruff voice sounds in your right ear, and says, “Shh…don’t want anyone gettin’ suspicious now do we, sweetheart?” Followed by a dark and evil sounding laugh, and then the world goes black.

You are taken from the apartment and Bob arrives home a few days later to a cryptic note and a ransacked apartment. “Fuck…fuck…no, no, no. Oh, y/n. Where are you? Who did this?” Bob screams, as he races through the entire apartment to see what clues he could find. He ran back over to take another look at the note which read, “Give us what we so desire and the journalist won’t get hurt. If you don’t give us what we want then they die.” signed, the Shadow Syndicate.

“The Shadow Syndicate? I knew they reached across seas but I never realized that they arrived here as well…” Bob thought quietly to himself, before running his fingers through his hair nervously. The Shadow Syndicate is a terrorist organization that operates on the fringes of society. This group is shrouded in secrecy and whispered rumors since no one truly knows what they stand for. They are experts in espionage, assassination, hacking, and psychological warfare, ensuring that any threat to their power is swiftly and silently neutralized. Their operations are meticulously planned and executed, leaving no trace behind.

This was going to be a mission that would be grueling and difficult but he would do anything to get you back home safely.

And he would stop at nothing until you were safe in his arms.

[vampirecatprince]

Rewatching S1 and S2 right next to each other bc I wanted to recenter my read on Robotnik and Stone after months in the fanon mines and remembering what I do of S3 and....

WOW- his time on the mushroom planet REALLY fucked with Robotnik, huh.

Like... there is a notable characterization difference between him in the first movie and him in 2 and 3 that I've never noticed before. Like- Stone has the biggest shift between 2 and 3, but is still pretty consistent compared to Rob in a way that makes the shift in behavior feel more intentional? There really is an extra mania and desperation to S2/S3 Rob that really isn't that present in the first movie and I always misremember being there.

And yes- a hell of a lot of what happens in Sonic 2 is motivated by decisions he's making and are objectively bad decisions to make, but bro is clearly not all together anymore after living in complete isolation while handling survival conditions for as long as he did.

But- I've never sat back and really pulled apart that in the first movie despite being widely disliked, he is still a successful scientist with a lot of authority and resources behind him. He's in a stable, respected role and clearly enjoying what he's doing.... Then he abruptly gets thrown onto another planet not even days after discovering that aliens actually exist, finally returns to earth after months of being completely isolated from other people to the point that he made a stand-in to talk to, absorbs a borderline eldritch form power source, loses said power to the teenage alien that started this whole going to begin with, and then nearly fucking dies and is so badly injured he's essentially in hospice care for at least a year.

Like- I'm not surprised that between 2 and 3 and decides that he wants absolutely nothing to do with Sonic and gets depressed. He lost his entire career and the ability to do something he loved easily and was hurt a lot in the process. And he's CLEARLY been unpacking a lot of his trauma in S3 with how he randomly trauma dumps to Sonic right before Gerald shows up?

And I also think that Gerald's manipulation of him in Sonic 3 wouldn't have been as easy or as possible with the Sonic 1 version of him? I really feel like a lot of what he went through damaged a lot of his confidence in a way that he's never going to acknowledge or admit to or even notice, but he probably subconsciously missed having an external authority figure in some way. I mean, he did contract work for the government. It's implied that he's been in the military industrial complex is entire life.

And especially after NEARLY DYING because of his own impulsive decisions AND his canon family issues already being a soft spot? It all just made him more vulnerable to being manipulated.

I just... Ohhhhh, his character arc in the movies so far is so fascinating to me, guys.

[cosmousee]

🌺♥ Themes of June ♥🌺

Hey there lovelies! Hope y’all have been doing well! It was such a lovely day todayyy! I mean it rained so much I had to ask for work from home (I was not about to tackle Mumbai rains on my own dear GOD, anyway I have one more week left of internship and then I can go back!!)

Okay focus.

Half a year has passed ALREADY? Can you believe it? I can’t bro, so much has happened it feels like a year in itself lmao. I am gonna do monthly readings from now on, so I can try to stay consistent and not go MIA every other month ;-;

And I think(?) we’ve got some important transits in the month of June as well, so yay!

Okay reading time! Remember to take what resonates and pass on the rest🥰

(I've not proofread, I never do, and there might be manyyy errors okay so just pls bear w me thanks😭)

1>>2>>3

Ｐｉｌｅ １

Heya Pile 1, I feel like you’re examining a situation from very upclose. Like you’ve got the most powerful magnifying glass, the most powerful microscope and you’re all up in the business of whatever it is you’re focusing on.

It is giving me career related vibes. There might be a job offer that you see on the internet, and before you apply you’re just making sure that it’s not a fake one, you’re carefully checking the sources of the job offer, and just basically making sure it is very very legit before you apply for it.

For others, you might get the offer letter, or the job contract and you’re READING the fuck out of it. Like line after line, being very thorough, you are making sure that the contract is right and there’s no miscommunications or stuff in the contract which you do not know about.

I feel like your field is very competitive and filled with people who have the skills, the education, the qualifications, the work experience, and whatnot. That might make job opportunities harder to come back, as the candidate pool is too big (the HR in me is really thriving bro).

I feel the job you’ve scored might’ve been after trying so hard way too many times. However, you’re still not losing sight of yourself that “Whew offer letter came let’s just accept and see what happens”.

You’re very particular and you want to be sure that the terms and conditions are actually what y’all discussed. You won’t be willing to accept just anything and everything what the company is providing you.

You’ve got your standards set and you want the company to meet them and nothing less. Like it can’t be different AT ALL especially in a way which is below your standards.

The pedestal you’ve put yourself on is a very appropriate one and you aren’t asking for more than you deserve (although that’d be fun) but you are also very sharp and very rigid on what you SHOULD get.

Not only this, you’ve got your eyes peeled, like I feel you’ve got a 360॰ view at the moment. Your periphery vision is at its peak and you’re very vigilant of any movements which are happening around you.

I feel like, since this feels like a very career oriented pile, (this might be the main theme for you in June), you could be very into what are the current market trends, the stock market, what’s the big news regarding companies. You could just be on LinkedIn trying to figure out the big news about companies, any launches, any open positions etc etc. Or you know have any other site open to gather more information.

Like you feel like a spy to me and you’ve got eyes on everything.

This might be a very big perspective shift for you. You might not have realised that getting jobs is THIS hard (it is honey Im so sorry), and you’d be a little child in this giant oyster ass world and you’d be like “Heh, I’ve applied and I’ll get it”.

I— It’ll get better, I hope. I'm still on the naive little child side on these things so I cannot give better advice😭

Have a great June, however much you can~

That’s all I have for you today! Thank you so much for reading🎀🌻Please let me know what resonated I love hearing from y'all<3

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Ｐｉｌｅ ２

Heya pile 2! While shuffling your cards I was singing “Pretty little baby~” (I just watch too much reels) so might resonate with y’all.

Idky but I saw these, and I got very spring vibes. Why would I get spring vibes in peak summer I have 0 clue.

But okay I think I figured it out.

I feel like you’re clearing something, like some exam or I think you toiled a lot for something, you did so much hard work for the thing, like months, years kinda situation which is finally clearing out.

You might be getting the results, for college, entrances or something like that. I mean that was the first vibe I got. Why is your pile also giving career-ish. Damn maybe June IS a month for career.

Anywho, it just feels like a big win. It’s like you worked on a painting for so long and put your heart and soul into it and now you’re finally gonna get to see it in an art exhibition or like show it to people on a larger scale.

I feel like you’re gonna get a fan following, like you’ll have people who support you, a community of some sort. They’re cheering you on, they are there for your victory and they are also so so happy and appreciative of everything that has led you to this moment.

It can also be one to reflect on the past and your path that you chose while coming to this destination. It’s not telling you to see what other paths you could’ve taken, but just finally take in this one.

Absorb everything which happened, nurse yourself if the path took way too much of your energy and you couldn’t focus on it at the time as you had to complete your task.

Now that you’ve achieved your goal, sit, relax and take a breather. It’s gonna be a new start in your life I feel, since I got spring vibes and the flower. But before that you’ll have to replenish all your resources. You’ll have to make sure you are okay and recharged before starting the next journey.

Don’t start it right away, as it can cause extreme burnout. Taking a little time off won’t hinder you at all. Call your energy back to yourself, just sit with yourself. Feel the warm sun on your face as you sit near your window, sipping your coffee with your favorite music on.

Look back at all the sacrifices you made, to your energy, to your mental health to reach this stage. Thank all of that, thank yourself and celebrate yourself for making it so so far and be so proud of yourself.

June would be very relaxing for you I feel, you’ll be calm, you’ll be enjoying. You’ll feel the air you’re breathing is fresher, you might find the trees you look at everyday, look greener, more full of life.

You might have not had the time to appreciate the beauty around you. But now that the pressure is all off, you can wear your rose-tinted glasses (or really whatever colour glasses you prefer) and look at the world.

It’s been waiting for you, I feel like the world missed having you look at it and appreciate it because you went MIA for human being tasksTM.

Have a good June y’all!

That’s all I have for you today! Thank you so much for reading🎀🌻Please let me know what resonated I love hearing from y'all<3

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Ｐｉｌｅ ３

Hmm, Pile 3 I feel like, there’s a situation where you’re unable to see the full picture. When I tried meditating, all I could see was black. I feel like you maybe be blindfolded in this situation. Ofcourse metaphorically, I feel someone is not letting you see the whole picture, they might be hiding things from you, or just giving you only a few pieces of information.

I feel they might not have the best intent for you in mind when they are hiding so much from you. Page of cups was the last card that came out and after I laid them out, I accidentally flipped it over. I feel like that person is the one we’re talking about.

They are not revealing their true nature to you. Since it’s a page it feels like a person who’s quite young, inexperienced and they might be trying to sort of unethically steal your experiences. You get me?

Like one is, “Hi, I need some help, do you mind?” and one is acting like they're interested, so you just tell them things just because they're curious, not knowing what their intentions are, its kinda like that. I feel they are behind the opportunities you may provide them if they hang out with you enough, since you’re at a different position from them, a higher position I feel like.

This is not exactly giving me career vibes, like I got in the previous two piles. But I don’t know what it is, it’s very deceiving. Finally, I got the word.

Even they might show you something, or offer you something which you might need, or you know just be glad to have that and you would happily accept that offer without knowing where the offer is stemming from.

I’m not getting exactly what it is, but it feels like they’ve dressed up their offer so well that you’re so impressed that you’re just ready to accept. But you don’t know how many coats of paint they’ve applied to cover their mistakes, how many jewels were needed to cover up the gaps. It’s just shiny on the outside and pretty PRETTY broken from the inside, and it’ll actually be of no use to you, even if you feel that you can go and correct it yourself.

It’s giving evil mastermind to me I don’t know why. Its a very cunning and manipulative person, who’s very sweet to you on your face but is a completely different person behind the scenes.

Just be careful when you’re dealing with them. Always trust your gut. I’m not telling you to go and accuse that person left, right centre with no proof. But, just be wary for your own sake.

Pay attention to detail if they bring up something for you, a gift, a project or something, still can’t figure out what it IS.

See it’s concealed so well that I can’t even pick up on its energy. Okay and, just a disclaimer, it might not even be this serious IRL. It’s just what the cards are showing me ;-;

Pile 3, please I am TELLING you, you’ve got to come back to me and let me know if a situation like this turned out or not. I also felt very deja vu while writing this, have I written something like this before? I don’t remember it at all, it was also giving me the vibe that I was trying to explain more to y’all but someone just came and they were like “girl you gotta go!” and they snatched me away and this was all I could tell you in the moment.

Phew, that felt big.

That’s all I have for you today! Thank you so much for reading🎀🌻Please let me know what resonated I love hearing from y'all<3

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[reverieblondie]

Domestic Bliss, Part 1

Pairing: Zevlor x Female Tav

Warnings: Mild talk about injuries, Mentions of mental health issues, Fluff, but more to come... (this is a slow burn people!)

Summary: After the battle for Baldur's Gate many have gone their separate ways... but when Tav comes across an injured Zevlor in the streets all that time apart doesn't seem to matter. He needs her help... and maybe she needs him just as much...

A/N: Yes I know... I'm staring another series... but I have had this thought forever and I need to get it out their, plus I love Zevlor and want to give him the happy ending he deservers. Originally got this idea from @faerunsbest HCs so thank you for inspiring me! idk how long this will end up but it will be a very cute slice of life read! Enjoy! and as always I look forward to your thoughts!

There's a burning ache in Zevlor's chest as he pants for breath; he should have seen this coming. He had tried so desperately to get to this city, then when he arrived he left it without a word to anyone after the battle. Since that day, he's been passing from town to town, taking odd jobs wherever he can find them, but now his latest job has led him back to this city… where he lies dying in an alley… a place meant to be his new life and will now be where he meets his end. 

The job was simple; he and other hired brutes were meant to take out some gnolls. But one of the wrenches managed to claw away at his side as they escaped. Zevlor had managed to heal himself up enough to stumble through the city in search of a better healer, but his damn wound on his side kept spitting open, leading a trail of blood through the streets down a dark alley.

Zevlor looks lazily into the bustling city folk, unknowingly passing him by. The news will read about the unknown tiefling man found dead in the alley. This must be a fitting death for a man like him… Then something or more someone catches his attention. 

Tav…

"Tav..." The faint sound of your name makes you pause, you look around the street for the possible source but nothing, it’s only when you turn towards the alley you see the specks of blood then the glowing fires of his eyes. Zevlor. 

You rush to him frantically, saying his name, trying to snap him out of his daze. Your mind and mouth are going a mile a minute. Then you see the blood staining his armor and the large claw marks on his side.

"Zevlor! What happened!" 

You're panicking as you move your hands to his gauche side to stop the blood. Zevlor watches as you fuse over him, your voice barely a mutter in his ringing ears, he just can’t believe you're right here… it’s like a dream… Suddenly leans into you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking you completely by surprise. You pause as you feel his hot, heavy breath moistening your skin.

"Tav..." He says so quietly that you barely hear it. 

"Zevlor..."

He hums as he hears you answer him,  "I am so happy you're here... I thought I would never see you again..."

Then his breathing becomes fainter than a whisper…

Turns out Zevlor is way heavier than you had realized…

When you started to drag him back to your place adrenaline was fueling you, but as you get closer and closer fatigue is starting to take its toll. It's times like this when you wish you had a horse and cart because the sheer size and muscle of this man make him impossible to carry, and his armor does not make it any easier. It's not like you could strip him down in the city streets… 

You pause for a moment and look at the passed-out man… Well, you could… No, no, won't do that to him; he would be mortified! And what if you lose his armor? He would never forgive you! 

Somehow, you manage to drag Zevlor down to your home and as soon as you get him to the front of your place your muscles are screaming at you… the whole front yard is overgrown with wild plants and vines and your home on the outside looks run down… maybe you should have taken him to a nearby cleric… You look down at his pained face and you know he won’t last till then. Swallowing down your pride you push through your overgrown gate and shabby wooden door to get him inside. Right now this isn’t about you. 

Inside your home is a clutter that makes your insides twist… Before you push through the mess of your living room, you take a deep breath as you host the passed-out tiefling further up your shoulder. Poor Zevlor is dragged over everything, leaving a dripping trail of crimson with each step. You almost cry as you have to luge him up the stairs, but your adrenalin seems to help you through. 

Finally, you manage to get him to your bed and immediately start shedding off his armor and stripping off his wet shirt. When you see the gash and the scares, you feel a pit swell in your gut... Not a part of him isn't marked with the pale lines of past trauma... his breathing is labored, and his skin is drenched in sweat… Zevlor always seemed so... inviolable.. and now here he is…

You quickly tie up your hair. "You better hang on… or... or I will never forgive you! 

You shout before rushing to your study, grabbing all the potions your frantic mind can think of. Rushing back to his side, you try to force him to drink any potion but he isn’t bugging, he just keeps his jaw locked. Dammit… Looking at his wound, it's still bleeding and if he doesn't drink, he won't close up that wound… 

Staring at his cut, you weigh your options; if he won’t take a potion, you will have to close it another way... In times like this, you wish you had studied more healing spells.

You go look around your room till you see it in the corner, your sewing kit… you haven't done it before but it’s better than nothing… 

With every pass of the needle through his tough skin, you apologize under your breath as you mend him the best you can, feeling your hands tremble as he winces with every pass. Just close it up and stop the bleeding for now. Then you can get his fever down, and hopefully, he can take medicine.

It’s so cold, painfully frigate, that it’s making his body weak and making trying to move his limbs a heavy battle. Waking was like a slow crawl over his body like a fire gradually building. It melted all the way down to his bones. Zevlor moved his arms first as a test, it was sore but the more he moved the easier it became. Then he became aware of the sharp ache in his side. It reminded him he's not dead, though when he saw your face, he was sure…

Remembering your face makes him jerk awake, an action he immediately regrets as he feels his stitches strain. Stitches... Zevlor looks down at the rushed job. It's not done well, but it is closing. Zevlor also sees his blood staining the linen sheets.

With more observation, he sees that the room he is in is quite a mess. Zevlor's eyes roam from the dust and cobwebs on the corners of the walls. He almost thinks this place might be abandoned if not for the warm candles and worn clothes scattered about. If it wasn't a dream, then he would think this is Tav's place…

Zevlor swallows his suddenly dry throat when he sees discarded panties on the ground. Gods help him…

A soft knock on the door forces his attention to the creaking door. You appear so cautiously, like you're worried about disturbing him, but when your eyes meet, your lips form into that addictive smile. 

Zevlor sits up a bit straighter and tries to return a smile, but when he realizes how shirtless he is, he immediately tugs the thin blood stained blanket over himself. 

"How are you feeling, Zev?” Hearing your voice alone is like a calming wave rolling over him. 

"If I'm honest, I'm sore. But It's wonderful to see you again." He tries to move to face you but winces, holding his side. Noticing his pain you rush to his side making sure his stitches haven't busted. You two don’t realize how close you are till you're looking at each other's faces and your noses almost touch. It’s been so long since you have seen him that it still feels so surreal. You stand with a laugh giving him some space glancing at his side. "You might need to work on your stitching, though…” 

You look at his patched side and grimace. "I'm used to alchemy; stitching isn't my strong suit. Though I do have this." From your pocket, you pull out a healing potion. "Hopefully, that's better for mending you." 

You two sat there in silence for a moment. It's been so long since you last saw each other. Of course, he wanted to see you again one day, but bleeding out in an alley was not what he imagined. Then again, what exactly was he imagining? Coming to you on a galloping white horse? 

"So are you going to tell me how you got hurt, or are you going to make me imagine?" Your eyes roam over his scared face, and your frown deepens as you imagine what he's been through.

"It was a job to get rid of some gnolls with the same others... honestly, I don't even know how I got to that alley..."

"Where are you staying? Have you talked to... anyone?"

Zevlor is silent, avoiding your eyes. "I stay where a few gold pieces can get me... as for the others... I still... can't.."

The absolute... the battle... it's all so painful to think back on. Nobody went through that ordeal unscathed. You want to beg him not to be so hard on himself, but you know those words won't help now… Zevlor needs to heal... in more ways than one.

You place your hand on his shoulder giving him your best serious look, "Zevlor?"

He looks up to meet your eyes, "Tav?"

"Stay here with me... till you're better... settled…"

He looks at you, surprised, "Here? Tav... I couldn't-" 

"Before you tell me why you can't, I want you to know that you wouldn't be in the way at all. There is room for both of us. Plus, you are hurt, and I can not let you go out there on your own.

Zevlor thinks for a moment... "Tav I-"

"Please." He looks at you when he hears the desperation in your voice, "Zevlor, will you please stay, for my sake..."

It's more generous than he deserves... but he doesn't want to disappoint you again. "I won't stay for free; I will get a job, get back on my feet, and repay you for everything you have done for me."

"You don't-"

"No, I want to. Your offer is so kind after everything you have already done. Thank you..." He finally manages a smile that makes your stomach storm with butterflies, "Truly."

You can't help but smile like a dork, "Well, I'd better set up your room then and fetch us something to eat. Rest for now."

Zevlor rests back as he watches you gather up some clothes to try and clean up a bit. Then he sits up again…

"Do you need any-"

You quickly turn and point your finger at him, "Don't even think about it; lie back and rest."

Ever the good soldier, he does as he's told, lying back down and saying, "Yes, ma'am."

Zevlor rests for as long as he can before his spine aches. The house has grown quiet, so he assumes Tav is either left or resting. Rising from the marshmallow of a mattress, he grimaces at the blood stains he left on her bed. He quickly strips the sheets and starts to lurk around for different linens he prays you to have.

Looking around, he hasn't discovered any sheets but has revealed that Tav's home is quite a mess. Everything she seems to own is strung all around. Tomes, clothes, potions, tools, and even miscellaneous nicknacks fill every corner and every surface.

You might be a hoarder... or just very unorganized… It's not that he’s judging—never. This is just a different side to the hero he never thought he would see. You do work; maybe it all just got too much.

With that thought, he starts to gather up some tomes in his arms, hoping for a bookshelf. Zevlor passes the washroom and sees the room he's presuming will be his. Peeping inside, he finds the room clean with a bed that matches yours. His armor and sword rest against the wall near the window, airing out the space. Luckily, there is a bookshelf for him to organize the books.

Without wanting to snoop too much, he decides to take the fresh bedding off his and replace it with yours. Zevlor has spent most nights in the dirt, so a mattress without sheets will be more than enough. 

Further investigation of your home shows that your room is used more as a study, your kitchen is more of a workspace, and the fireplace isn't working. Zevlors is tempted to clean up, but he wouldn't want to insult you. 

"You just couldn't help yourself, huh?"

Zevlor jumps out of his skin when he hears your cheerful voice.

You see his tail stand on end as you step closer, "I told you to rest." 

 Zevlor shifts awkwardly under your stare," Yes... Well, the bed was so soft, and my spine ached. Plus, it's not good to just lay all day." 

You just smile before rolling your eyes; of course the ex-commander has difficulty lounging. "Sure, sure, let's just hope you rested enough to eat."

"Of course! Thank you!" Zevlor grabs the bags from her hands before placing them on the only clean spot on the kitchen table. Noticing how dirty your kitchen is you frantically start rushing to put things away and attempt to find some cutlery.

 Eating is quiet as both struggle to find a conversation. There is much to be said and shared, but so much time has passed. It's hard to know what to say.

"I'm sorry about my home... “ You finally confess, “It's messy, and it only worsened when I was away... After everything, I just can't toss anything out or organize everything."

Zevlor looks at your worried expression, "It's not my place to judge anyone’s home. If you want, I could help around the house, but if you don't want me touching your things." 

 "My home is your home. do whatever feels natural for you." You smile as you grab Zevlor's empty dish from his hands, your eyes meeting as your fingers brush against his warm skin. "I really hope you enjoy staying here,"

 Zevlor feels his heart squeeze at your earnest smile. "I'm sure I will." 

The first night in your home, he couldn't even sleep. Perhaps it was because he had slept most of the day away, or maybe it was just odd to be here—back in the city—back in your world. 

Zevlor just laid awake watching until dawn began to fill the space. Pale yellows and pink with your echoing footsteps, he thought he should have walked down to greet you a good morning. But for some reason, he just laid there, unmoving, like if he shifted or got up, he would open the door and find himself back in some roadside tavern. 

He waited until your footsteps transformed into the sound of a shutting door. Once you've gone to work, Zevlor pops out of his head. Part of him thinks that he should go out and start looking for some employment, but as he walks around your house, seeing it all disheveled and out of place... 

Your words echo in his mind, You haven't been able to clean up. Normally, that would mean you're depressed, but who is he to make assumptions about another? 

Zevlor looks around at the dirty and rundown house. He's not the world's best at cleaning, but if it helps you out... First, the living room, then the study, the washroom, and lastly, the kitchen. If he works on the cleaning first, then the repairs to the inside and outside... 

A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he begins to pick up; maybe he's getting ahead of himself; it's not like he's planning to stay forever. While here, he's determined to help you as much as he can; it's the least he can do after all you have done... He owes you a lifetime of work, but he wouldn't want to burden you with that. Repay as much of his debt as possible, then get out of your hair. That's the plan. 

It's later than you wanted. Poor Zevlor has been in your house all day and is probably still in pain. Maybe you should mix up some more pain relievers. Hopefully, he's awake enough for you to scrunch up a meal and get him medicine. 

Walking through the rusted, overgrown gate, dragging your feet as you slide through you can’t help but sigh, This place has gotten so overgrown... but you're always so tired, and things stack up further and further. You need to worry about those things later; for now, focus on the little steps first. 

You're deciding that you could scrape together a porridge for dinner, it might not taste the best but at least it will be filling. When you push open your door, the smell of cooking food hits your nose first before you even notice that everything looks cleaner, for a moment you think you ended up in the wrong house. Everything is so clean, practically spotless. Things that have been out of place for a while now are suddenly cleaned up, dirt wiped away, and wow! When was the last time you saw your fireplace?

You walk further into your home, and your jaw drops when you enter the kitchen. The most delicious smell and cooked food... and the sight... Zevlor... the ex-Hellrider Commander, the man leading the refugees... the man you saw lay out mindflyers with a single blow with his long sword. This man, this presence is in your kitchen, nose in a book, cooking away at a whole spread. 

Zevlor hadn't noticed when you walked in. It wasn't until he heard the sound of a thud that he even looked up from the cookbook. The look on your face made him tense for a moment. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten so carried away. 

He closes the book with a smile, "Hello Tav... how was work?" 

You're too stunned to respond properly, "Zev, did you make dinner." 

"Um... yes..."

"But I didn't have groceries..."

"Well, I had some coins left over. The ladies in the market were very kind." He smiles, showing off his sharp smile. -Oh, you bet they were…

"Did you spend the day cleaning the house..." 

"Right... I did; I hope I didn't overstep my welcome; I figured I should do something to contribute while I'm here rather than lay around. Honestly, I didn't do much; I still have some of the roofing to repair and the fireplace before it gets cold-"

Zevlor is silenced when your arms suddenly embrace him. He stands frozen letting your hands grip his shirt and burying your face in his warmth. You feel yourself on the brink of tears, and Zevlor waits for a beat before finally embracing you back.

"Zevlor, your... so kind."

"Oh, hush. This is nothing compared to the kindness you have shown me…"

It's quiet for a moment, and you feel your hands clinging tighter and his as well. You look up into those blazing eyes. There is still that calmness in those lidded eyes, but there is something else there you can't put your finger on—or maybe you hope it's there. 

Then his eyes drop to your lips, your heart skips, and you dare to lean in slightly, but as your eyes are closed your stomach betrays you…

Zevlor comes from you with a chuckle, "Sounds like you have quite the appetite. I hope you enjoy what I whipped up."

You look down at the cooked slaps or meat and the fresh vegetables steaming from the pan, It all looks delicious. "If you're not careful I'll get accustomed to this." You say, starting to take a seat; before you can grab a plate, Zevlor is already making one for you and handing it over.

"Well, I think you are deserving of it."

[sokkastyles]

I’ve been seeing #that user argue with you and I have like a few things to say so excuse the typos LOL. I almost reblogged their post but didn’t want to add traction but……

ops post is weird for a number of reasons but first off- zuko and katara are not lovers, thus they are not going to be portrayed as lovers in the show. second of all, did crossroads of destiny not exist? katara wanting to heal zuko’s scar? katara cheering zuko up because he was afraid of confronting iroh? zuko acknowledging kya’s braveness and sacrifice (something he’s familiar with as it mirrors his own dynamic with his mother)? katara was so angry with zuko BECAUSE she cared, and he let her down. zuko knew that, hence him wanting to personally atone in katara’s eyes. tsr is not JUST tsr, its an episode dedicated to discussing literally the core aspect of katara’s character; her trauma and recovery. are people who “trauma bond” not deserving of love, then? what are they even trying to say when they mention that? third of all, having respect, intimacy and an emotional connection is oftentimes the basis for relationships, so that argument doesn’t make sense either. lastly, it’s not inherently misogynistic to state that a female lead doesn’t need a man, but is tiring to hear the same take that strong WOC don’t *need* relationships especially when those characters canonically express interest in them (I’m about tired of hearing that excuse as a black woman myself).

honestly…. missing the old age where fandom was about having fun. now, if you’re not sticking solely to canon then you don’t *get* the source material and therefore can’t really have an opinion on things. absolutely insane.

Yeah lol, they kept saying that zutara didn't have a romantic relationship in the show when their original argument was that therefore they aren't "right" for each other, and tried to use things in the show to back up their argument. When I pointed out that judging whether they *could* have a romantic relationship based on whether they did in canon makes no sense, they tried to argue all the same old same old talking points about how they would just argue and Katara could never love the prince of the fire nation, I pointed out how those arguments don't make sense with the close relationship they have in canon. So are we going by their canon relationship or not? Pick a number.

And yeah, it's not inherently misogynistic to say a character should end up alone, but to act like that's the most empowering option is misogynistic. Acting like you think women and girls in fandom need to be told this is misogyny. Not to mention, like you said, that it's also incredibly racist when this is applied to brown women, who often are subject to this insistence that she needs to be "strong," particularly in fandom spaces.

Going into a fandom space and being like "why is all the discussion about this female character about ships?" Is like going into a sports bar and wondering why all the conversations are about football. Like, I'm sorry, but we serve shipping here. Spare me the bullshit about how I should *really* be focusing on xy or z, especially if you're gonna pretend this is about "empowering" a female character. It's just another way of policing female characters that male characters don't get subject to. She can't be a person, she has to be a role model. My favorite male blorbo can take a hundred dicks behind the taco bell, but if I want to talk about a female character's trauma, I must want her to suffer. If I want to ship her with a man, I must not be "liberated" enough.

On that note, when several people told them they were using the term "trauma bond" incorrectly, they tried to backtrack and be like "well I meant shared trauma" and when I pointed out how the problem was not just the incorrect use of the term, but the insistence that bonding over shared trauma was unhealthy, they tried to say they didn't say that. But then that post they made vageuing me also ranted about "romanticizing trauma" so...yeah, I was right that this person has no fucking idea what they're talking about. Because listen, shared trauma is not a dirty word. It's not unhealthy, and in fact is extremely common as a basis for a romantic relationship. What even is this argument, that people shouldn't empathize with each other? That people shouldn't talk about their trauma, especially with their loved ones? This argument makes no sense, especially in the context of Zuko and Katara, whose bond over shared trauma brings them healing and brings them closer together.

But that's a subset of the same misogyny. Don't romanticize Katara being a fighter. Don't romanticize her trauma. Don't put her in a relationship. What is she, a porcelain doll? A witch searching for her lost cat in the alps? We're only allowed to talk about her in terms of how tragic her life was, or how strong and empowered she is. And we're definitely not allowed to talk about the possibility of her being attracted to boys who are not her canon love interest. Now, don't you feel feminist?

[miainbetween]

okay, so, this is me the next day

yesterday I posted at 3am eastern european time that I had the closest shifting unintentional experience and now I want to elaborate. (the post)

yesterday I wrote my first motivational blog (the post) in which I tried to include my own beliefs about shifting. and I wrote everything that me and my logic agreed on. I knew what I was writing was true to me and yet... it felt like in that moment doubts were screaming at me that I'd never get there.

one hour later when I was trying to fall asleep I had decided that I don't need subliminal to motivate me or to help me shift and I thought I'd simply affirm instead. something about letting go and not waiting but knowing it's already done.

"My desires chase me — because I am the source. I don’t wait.” “I am the creator of my reality — and everything bends to match my decision.”

(not only these but these mainly)

reciting the affirmations lulled me to sleep, and at some point I realized that, and I was like, "okay, okay, continue to affirm, continue to affirm!!!" but at this stage, I was doing it more forcefully. in a way, I was clutching onto the possibility of shifting instead of just letting it happen. so I tried to relax and continued to affirm and I fell asleep like that.

then I had a dream. about something prom related where my classmates were supposed to go to my yard but the way there is rocky and they were with heels and I was thinking logistically how do we all get there. but then I realised that that was absurd. and I thought "I'm dreaming".

so right after I realise I was in a dream I saw black, my stomach dropped then fell back into place and I was in my bed, laying on my right side just like the position I fell asleep in. and I realised that I am shifting and CAN shift. so I tried to imagine Max's (my s/o) arms around me but I was so calm the whole time. which is so strange now that I think about it because usually I am freaking out. anyways.

then I felt something press into me at the blades of my back, I felt an exhale right over my left shoulder and it felt like MAX was nuzzling into my neck. and then the most heartbreaking thing that he could do which is totally in his fashion - he said that he missed me all day and I, in my head, said that I did too because OMG he has NO idea how much.

but as I said - I said this in my head and I realised that I couldn't say it out loud and everything felt wrong - I didn't feel warmth, not his body, the sigh was too strong and too loud, as well as his voice. I realised I was seeing a window and I tried to close my eyes but I just saw the same thing which made the big "I'm still dreaming" click.

I tried to shift but instead immediately woke up 30 minutes after I fell asleep. and cried. yeah. nice.

the weirdest thing is that I wrote the motivational post and didn't feel motivated and YET this happened.

yes, it was a dream, not a shift. yes, it was short and seemingly unimportant. but it was the closest, most peaceful and trusting I have been. I may not have shifted to my dr in theory but this dream was a shift in itself.

and who cares that I don't yet see what I want? I already know I am there. now more than ever.

okay, now I'm feeling better.

[orangecatsmissingbraincell]

Pretty Girl (ShaunaHat)

3.6k words

Tags: Modern setting, no crash AU, college AU, Fratboy!Shauna, smut (minors dni!), strap-on, eating out, drunk sex, Shauna kinda being a little toxic, lowkey Genlissa breadcrumbs in there too, no proofreading bc I'm lazy

“Should I go with the lilac hat or the flamingo one?”

Gen looked up from her chemistry notes to look. “Mel, I don’t think anyone’s gonna be looking at your hat. I’d go without it”

“The hat’s the most important part”

“Why are you even bothering with this stupid party anyway? It’s probably just frat guys and desperate girls”

“Because,” Melissa practically groaned as she spoke, “the soccer team’s gonna be there, and I’d like to get in with them now”

“You still thinking about trying out then?”

“Of course, and you should too. I’m already starting to miss playing with you”

“I can’t. I have these things called classes. You know, the thing that we pay for here? You should try going to one”

“I will…eventually. Maybe. I’ll get to it”

Gen rolled her eyes and went back to her chemistry homework. “Just, call me if things go south alright?”

“Yeah, of course”

Melissa headed down to the dorm lobby, still nervous about her first college party. She’d seen the movies and always imagined these to be the real deal, not like the high school parties where she had to sneak around and down just enough cheap beer to feel slightly off, but not so much that her parents would notice and ground her. She was a real adult now and could do whatever she wanted and no one could say anything. Her ride finally came, a friend from one of the few times she actually went to class. After a quick apology on account of the traffic that held her up, the two made it over to Jackie’s apartment

Once captain of her high school soccer team who’s closest brush with defeat was an anticlimactic tie at nationals, now captain of Rutgers’ team and president of Gamma Sigma Rho, Jackie had lived the high life with the worst thing to ever happen to her being falling off her bike exactly once when she was 8 and a messy breakup with her old high school sweetheart. She had become the main source of parties on campus, alongside Shauna if only by proxy. Shauna was mostly in it for an excuse to get trashed and people watch, even if Jackie had other ideas

“I’m getting tired of you throwing random douches at me,” she protested when Jackie started pointing guys out to her at the party

“Come on.” Jackie said with a mock whine. “You need to have fun, get your needs met before becoming some boring housewife with a degree that’s all for show”

“I do get my needs met. Besides, I’m not even in the mood for guys right now”

Shauna kept her drink close, a red solo cup filled to the brim with Jackie’s homemade punch. Jackie, however, was still stubborn and not taking the hint. In her mind, if she was going to hook up one night, so would Shauna, and if Shauna found someone on her own, then she had exactly five minutes to find someone herself

“Sooooo you want me to find you a girl then? I think I can do that”

Shauna tried her best to protest but a small laugh still escaped her. “You really are a true progressive”

“I have my moments”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe Jackie did finally get to her, but Shauna decided she might as well find someone for tonight

“Change of plans,” she said, patting Jackie’s shoulder. She locked eyes with this one cute blonde. She was clearly out of her element, probably a freshman who had no idea where she even was, terribly dressed but that wouldn’t matter soon enough. All in all, this girl was exactly her type

Melissa practically perked up when she saw Shauna approach, but tried her absolute hardest not to come off like some overly desperate freshman. She didn’t know her, but recognized her from the games. When Shauna did come up she practically brushed Melissa’s friend out of the way

“Why aren’t you drinking? Are we not fun or something?”

Melissa stuttered over herself to get the words out. “No…no its just…I just got here and didn’t wanna immediately start stealing-”

Shauna cut her off. “I’ll make you something then.”

She came back a few moments later with a cup of punch and ran her eyes up and down Melissa

“You got a name?”

“Y-yeah. Melissa…”

“Just Melissa?”

“Melissa Jones”

“Well, good to meet you Mel. Shauna”

“Yeah, I know.” She always wondered why she said stuff like that. She tried course correcting. “I just mean that…I’ve been to the games. You guys are good. I, uh, play too.” Why was she rambling so much?

Shauna cocked her head and took a sip. “What position?”

“Forward”

“Oh wow,” Shauna said with a slightly insincere tone. “Must be pretty good then”

“Thanks,” Melissa said sheepishly 

“So you agree? You think you’re really good then?”

Shit. “Oh, well…I mean…”

Shauna cut her off. “Ease up. I’m just fucking with you”

Melissa sighed in relief and gave an awkward laugh. “Right…yeah”

Shauna just nudged her arm at that, an excuse to establish touch early more than anything sincere. “Jokes aside, you thinking about trying out?”

Melissa nodded. “Yeah, yeah I want to”

“Well, good luck then, but if you played forward in high school you have a decent chance. Better than some of these people who were the best player in their shitty small town school and think they’re hot shit”

Melissa gave a nod at that. “Yeah, I’ve already met some people like that. They’re the worst”

There was a brief space in the conversation before Shauna filled it in

“You’re pretty cute, yknow. How many guys have you had to fight since you got here?”

Melissa was surprised and took a bit to just think of a good response before finally settling on “none”

“Maybe it's the outfit. Guys get weird about stuff like that. I don’t care though. I think you fit the rich sporty lesbian type pretty well”

When Melissa finished her drink, Shauna quickly broke off to bring her a refill. Shauna leaned over as she handed her the new drink, not letting the fact that Melissa was an inch or two taller than her get in the way of anything. Melissa seemed to shrink up in response

“These parties kinda suck. I only go to them because I live with Jackie,” Shauna said after taking a big gulp of her drink. “You ever been to these?”

“No, this is my first time”

“Well, sorry your first party sucks. I have a TV in my room. You wanna just watch something? I actually like talking to you”

Melissa felt like jumping up and down in excitement, but tried to keep her cool

“Yeah, that sounds better than this,” she said, nodding towards some frat bro who was tripping over himself. The two quickly refilled their drinks one more time and headed to Shauna’s room. Jackie noticed them and muttered “Shipman you son of a bitch” before grabbing some random guy

In her room, Shauna tossed her jacket off and sprawled over her bed. She aimlessly browsed her TV, not even looking for anything specific before settling on trashy MTV reruns

“This is a lot better. Not as loud, no drunk douches, no shitty hip-hop”

Melissa gave a nod at that. “Yeah, it’s a lot nicer”

“Melissa, you can sit.” Shauna scooted over to make room on her bed, a twin sized bed with no headboard, only marginally bigger than the one Melissa had in her dorm. The two were hip to hip, and Melissa tried her hardest not to blush or shrivel up. Shauna kept one arm around her, idly tracing up and down her arm. She knew she didn’t have to ask to touch her; it was something that came naturally. She would still test the waters at least, see how far this girl would let her go. Her hand drifted off Melissa’s arm down her side. It tickled a little, and Melissa let out a soft gasp but acquiesced. Shauna took that as a side to go further and wrapped her arm around her waist, playfully drumming her fingers on Melissa’s belly

“You work out. I can tell,” Shauna said, tracing along Melissa’s abs. “I like that”

Melissa gave a shaky “thanks” before looking over at her. She wanted Shauna to go further, to be the one to actually initiate, but she was holding off. Instead, she just kept her hand on Melissa’s belly, way above where they both wanted that hand to actually be. Neither were actually paying attention to the show at this point. Shauna finally saw the opportunity and planted her lips on Melissa’s neck. It was far from a romantic kiss. It was hungry, aggressive even. Melissa whined and gasped, already drunk and now wound up. Shauna flipped over, pulling Melissa to the side as she climbed on top. Their legs intertwined, and Shauned pushed her knee just between Melissa’s thighs as she kissed her neck, her lips, her cheeks, any open and vulnerable skin she could find while Melissa slowly melted underneath her. Melissa’s hands wrapped around Shauna’s back and held her close. Whether seconds or minutes or hours passed, Melissa didn’t know, she was lost to the sensations. Shauna broke away for a moment to take off her shirt before returning to tonight’s mistress

Shauna seized the opportunity and hastily unzipped Melissa’s pants, then slid her hand under her boxers. “God, you’re soaked,” she said as she curled her fingers inside her. Melissa gasped and whined as Shauna turned the heat up. Her weak moans echoed all through the room and drowned out the TV. Shauna went until absolutely couldn’t take it anymore. She slid off to strip her jeans off, then started rummaging her nightside. Melissa looked to the side, clearly still in shock from the experience

“Go on,” Shauna said looking back at her. “Take the polo off”

Melissa flushed bright pink before nodding. “Right…right…”

“You have done this before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, no yeah I have. Just nervous ‘s all,” Melissa said as she began to lose the polo

“That means you aren’t drunk enough. Finish your drink while I get set up”

Melissa downed her cup as Shauna started to fasten a thick purple dildo into the harness and put it on. Melissa’s head was spinning but she managed to get her pants off too. Her clothes all laid messily on Shauna’s floor. Shauna decided to grab a joint she had prepared for tonight. She got on her back and started to light it before looking at Melissa

“Well, go ahead. Get on.” She grabbed the freshman and pulled her over her lap. As Melissa began to lift herself, Shauna smirked and slapped the dildo against her

“Cmon pretty girl, there you go,” Shauna cooed as Melissa lowered herself back down with a low, slow moan. Smoke flowed around them as Shauna let Melissa ride. She loved how girls would do all the work for her, even if this one was a little slow. She gave her a hard spank to get Melissa to speed up

“Your tits are so pretty,” Shauna praised as she watched the blonde’s breasts bounce with every movement. “What a pretty girl”

Shauna grabbed one of her tits and ran her thumb over the nipple just to excite this girl. Her hand slid down her body before settling on her hip. She absentmindedly traced her thumb in circles while the rest of her figures curled around that pretty ass. Melissa put her hands on Shauna’s chest for stability. It was a struggle for her to hold it together. The adrenaline was running high, and she was multiple strong drinks deep, so her balance wasn’t exactly the best

Shauna tried to pass the joint to Melissa, but when she almost lost her balance she instead decided to have her lean over so she could hold the joint while Melissa inhaled. “That’s it. One more”

Melissa’s eyes rolled back in pleasure. The weed and alcohol only intensified the feelings. She was pretty loud normally, but that mix made her totally lose herself and every movement was coupled with loud, intense moans. It felt like a fire had been lit inside her. Melissa went until she was fatigued and her legs were too shaky to keep going

“What’s wrong pretty girl?” Shauna asked when she slowed down. “Tired already?”

Melissa nodded. “Y-yeah…its too much. Can you take over”

Shauna smiled at that. “I don’t think you want me to take over”

“Please,” she whined. “I need it”

Shauna gave her hip a slight tap and helped her off.  “On your knees babe”

She put the joint out and lined up behind her. Shauna tsked at her when she saw Melissa on her hands and knees

“Not like that. Like this.” She pulled Melissa’s arms from under her and kept them behind her back while she shoved the young blonde’s face into the mattress. Melissa’s heart jumped several beats ahead at that; for a brief moment she was convinced it would burst out of her chest. Shauna kept one hand on her head, grabbing a fistful of hair to keep her head pinned against the mattress. With her other hand she gave her ass a hard spank, followed by one more just to make sure her skin would remember Shauna’s handprint

She lined the dildo against her folds then slowly pushed deeper. With her hand gripping Melissa’s hip, Shauna sped up, growing more and more intense until the sounds of them slapping against each other filled the room. Melissa surrendered to the feeling, saying little more than “fuck” or “oh God.” Shauna finally found the perfect angle, something she had a talent for, and abused it until the blonde’s voice was an octave higher and shook so much she started to worry this girl would fall apart

“Fuck Melissa. You take it so well. You’re a fucking pro”

She pulled out for a moment, then grabbed Melissa’s legs and pulled them back so she laid totally flat. Shauna laid right on top of her and rolled her hips with as much intensity as she could get. Melissa let out a whiny moan in response to the new position. Shauna grabbed her wrists and kept her pinned down. Not that she really needed to, since her own weight was enough to keep this girl pinned against the mattress, but she liked the control it gave her

“I’m really close Shauna”

“I know pretty girl,” she said with mock sympathy. “I know you can take some more though, right?”

“Y-yeah”

“Good, good.” Shauna started to slow down just to toy with her girl. Melissa was soon begging her to speed up

“Say please,” Shauna taunted

“P-p-please”

She smiled and decided to give this girl everything in her. She drilled her until the mattress started to sink in. Melissa let out several high pitched moans, which slowly faded into weak whimpers. Shauna got her mouth close to her ear and gave Melissa the words she’d been dying to hear

“You can cum now”

Almost on command, Melissa frantically grabbed the mattress and let the fires consume her as she came more than she ever had in her life. Shauna kept rolling her hips into her until she was totally done. When Shauna did pull out, Melissa was trembling and her dildo was covered in her juices. While Melissa was still panting, she moved over to put her hand on her cheek and guided her to suck the dildo and clean it up. That was another thing Shauna really loved, making these girls taste themselves off her

“You were so good,” she said as she pulled out of Melissa’s mouth. “Think you can return the favor?”

Melissa nodded, still out of breath, and Shauna slid the harness off her so she was perfectly open for Melissa. She came back and kissed Melissa, then laid back and used her hand to guide Melissa’s head between her thighs. Melissa looked down at her eagerly, admiring Shauna’s build. Her eyes took in everything, from her muscular thighs to the bush she had, before Shauna teased her

“Quit staring, eat.” She grabbed a fistful of her hair and shoved Melissa in. She immediately went to work and Shauna let out a deep, almost masculine moan. “That’s it. Finally doing something useful with that tongue,” she said. She wrapped her legs around the girl, locking them at the heel to keep her from escaping. Every so often, Shauna would give her directions but when Melissa finally found the right way, she could lay off. Her chest heaved up and down. Melissa was surprisingly good at this, she thought to herself, just needed some instruction was all. Melissa had to fight the urge to just go as fast as she could, but Shauna told her to keep it slow. There was a brief moment where she got excited and went faster than Shauna preferred, which prompted a tug of the hair

“Slow down. It’s not a race”

Melissa just nodded and settled herself down the best she could. God this girl’s stamina was insane, she thought to herself. Time seemed to drag on as Melissa continued tongue fucking her. Shauna just enjoyed the sight of a pretty obedient girl who would fuck her exactly as she told. She listened better than most of the girls- and all of the guys- that Shauna had been with. Most would’ve gotten too excited by now and would’ve rushed things. Instead, Melissa was happy to do whatever she was told. This was a girl who seemed to enjoy eating pussy just for the sake of it

After a long period, Shauna reached the first peak. Her thighs instinctively wrapped tighter around Melissa’s head. Melissa felt like her cheeks were being hugged. She grabbed Shauna’s thighs for stability

“You can go a little faster now,” Shauna told her. She immediately picked up the pace. She felt excited, like it was a stamp of approval for her since she loved going fast. Her jaw and tongue ached but she pushed through, desperate to guide Shauna through every rush of pleasure. Her eyes widened when she felt the sudden grasp of Shauna’s thighs tightening again.

“I’m gonna cum,” she grounded. “Gonna cum on that pretty face of yours”

Shauna leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The pleasure rushed faster than she expected, and with a low groan she came right on Melissa’s tongue and face. She let out a content sigh and held Melissa close just a little longer so she could clean everything up. She pulled her back in for a quick kiss and let Melissa relax on her for a bit. She didn’t hold her long though

“You got a ride?” She asked Melissa, who was a little taken back by the question

“Oh…right…yeah I can call someone”

“Jackie doesn’t really like when people stay the night. She’s kinda a bitch like that”

Melissa had the feeling that wasn’t really the reason, but relented anyway. She shot Gen a quick text. 

“It’s 1:30 AM!” She texted back. A few moments later she shot a second text. “You’re lucky I love you. Be there soon”

Melissa shot her a quick heart and looked back at Shauna. “Someone’s coming to get me”

Shauna just nodded in response. As Melissa was started to get dressed she spoke up

“Melissa, lemme have your number”

This girl was something different, too special to just dump after one session. She was definitely going to hear back from Shauna one of these days. Melissa’s phone buzzed again when Gen texted her.

“So umm…this was fun, thanks,” she said before shuffling out

She met Gen outside and hoped in her car

“Welcome back slut,” Gen said with a smile. She barely got dressed and instead just substituted pajamas for sweats and a jacket

“Oh hush.” She felt embarrassed to be called out so easily, but the blush all over her face and neck probably did little to help her case

“Just promise you won’t puke in my car”

The two headed back to the dorm where Gen did her best to sneak in a too drunk and too high girl without alerting the RA. She helped her into their dorm and sent Melissa to get cleaned up. Gen sighed when Melissa got in the shower. She was always there to save Melissa from her own messes. She really shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. Part of her always thought that if she was there enough then Melissa would finally clean her act and maybe, just maybe, actually settle down with her. She gave a smile when Melissa stepped out in pajamas and flopped onto the bed. She wasn’t in the mood to hear about the party, or whatever she actually got up to while she was gone. They both tried to sleep, but neither could

“Hey,” Gen said, turning back to her. “Wanna watch some cartoons or something?”

Melissa turned back to her. “Yeah, sounds nice.” She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice and being dumped so unceremoniously earlier. She hopped onto Gen’s bed and the two watched some cartoons on Gen’s old laptop. They only got one episode deep before the alcohol and weed and sex high all started to wear Melissa down. She fell asleep on Gen, who was starting to get tired too. She turned the laptop off and pulled a blanket over them before falling asleep herself

[slenbee]

Fellow scam buster, documenter, and owner of @scam-alerts here!

Let me explain it to you (anon) and others who share the "well this has to be a scam because-" mentality:

The entire reason we scam busters do not, nor will we ever, call an account with a campaign like gofundme or chuffed a scam? Is because we- in good faith- cannot prove that they are, in fact, scams.

We can't can't do that. We won't do that.

No matter how many people come to our asks box's or DM's and say things like:

"They are @ spamming in the comments!"

"They are clearly block evading by using alt accounts!"

"They have sent me this same ask 10 times in a week on anon!"

" doesn't work in so this has to be a scammer!"

"They are using alt blogs to share this gofundme!"

We still will not call it a scam. Why?

Take a step back and try to look at the bigger picture.

Can you (anon and people like them) prove that this is a scam if you choose to say it's a scam?

If someone can prove it, then show it to us scam busters. Give us solid evidence that someones campaign/gofundme is a scam with concrete 100% undeniable proof. If they can lay out all the evidence to us with image sources, proof of lies, stolen stories, and all that jazz?

Then we'll make a post about it and contact the blogs they're vetted by.

If people can't do that?

It's just word of mouth and pointing fingers. That's it.

"I don't like x thing so it's bad/annoying! Make it go away!"

I get people are tired of the ask spam and DM spam. I get it.

I've had more than my fair share of threats in DM's for not "giving someone money for a sick child." I've had more than my fair share of comments and asks that "if you don't give us money you support our genocide."

But for other users (like this anon) to go around and actually call these accounts scams, simply because they themselves are either:

tired of getting asks, @'d in comments, and DM's.

are 'sick and tired of seeing it on their dashboard'.

or they choose to parrot campaigns being scams simply they saw say they're scams?

That's not right. And you shouldn't do that or think that way.

If you don't like the asks or DM's, just block and delete.

If you don't like seeing it on your dash, add stuff to your filters in your settings so posts containing thing like 'gofundme' or 'gazavetters' gets hidden.

But do not sit here and say something's a scam just because you "don't like it or are tired of seeing it."

Put your money where your mouth is and prove it.

If you can't prove it's a scam? If the popular blogs you saw say that it's a scam can't prove it? If the anons in your inbox saying they're all scams can't either?

Then you- nor they- have any right to call anything a scam.

No different than us actual scam busters.

If people want to help someone then take the time to look for vetted sources with legitimate campaigns that have had some sort of contact with the families.

I'm not telling anyone to donate, so don't think that that is some how my message here. It's not.

But what I will tell you, is that being one of those people who goes around sending anons like this, making posts in the #scam tag calling out the asks they get or mutual aid blogs as scam, and those people who make fake scam-busting blogs targeting mutual aid blogs specifically all in an effort to alter peoples perception and to get people to mass report?

That doesn't give them the good image like they think it does.

It makes them look heartless and down right cruel.

Tl:dr- If you don't like it, block, delete, and ignore.

But do not call it a scam.

Thanks for reading and have a great day.

-Bee

I need to ask: please stop deluding Tumblr users into believing the overflowing, uber-frequent, bot-like asks "from Gaza" are real people asking for money.

Tumblr is targeted by money scammers because of its lax spam filters and young user base easily manipulated into falling for false cries for help. The same occurs for elderly persons receiving emails and phone calls for similar issues. These scams are not unusual, and it is very clear that the same or similar entities behind Tumblr porn bots, Ukraine scams, and now art commission scams, follow the same script of spam and overwhelming user psyche, made safe because they are hiding behind a real-world issue.

Thank you for your time.

Dear anon,

No.

Sincerely, Key.

[benjaminalphabet]

it's strange how possible it is to still love someone who hurt you so deeply, how almost unavoidable it is sometimes.

a person can rewire your entire brain with the things they do, your instincts, your thought processes, your ability even to love other people and you can still catch yourself in moments of nostalgia for them. you can still find yourself loving them, cherishing the memories you have with them and the time you knew them at the very same time that you're thanking god you made it out alive, that you're hoping you never see them again.

the year i was eighteen was the worst of my life, but i have some of the sweetest memories of my first apartment. i think about that first morning all the time, when i woke up and she was standing at the end of my bed. there was this particular Saturday kind of light coming in from the window, and she was holding a drink carrier with McDonald's iced coffees, she woke up before me and ordered them for us. we hadn't unpacked anything yet, the day before we had moved all of our boxes in and then went to a concert. we eased into it though, we spent the whole morning moving boxes around but not opening any of them. we just wanted to make enough space in the living room so that we could set up our TV and watch Big Mouth like we had talked about doing so many times during the months leading up to finally moving in.

we would sit in this parking lot behind the skatepark in our garbage hometown and pass a bong back and forth (it was shaped like a skull and we had named it Julie, but i don't remember why). she drove this ancient brown truck that was so shitty, the weed smell was so deeply embedded into all of the seats that you could smell it from across a parking lot, eventually she stopped even taking it to campus. every morning we would meet at this apartment building across the street from our school and i would drive us. we would leave her truck there. she would only fill the gas tank a quarter way up, and we had to jump it all the time, and drive down the dirt roads with its flat tires, but it had a huge center console and we would use it like a coffee table, and it was warm throughout the winter, and the seats were big enough to sleep in for all the nights we got drunk on Malibu rum parked behind the skatepark. it snowed a lot that winter and we were dumb and seventeen and all we wanted was to move to Denver, but the truck was warm, and we would watch Big Mouth on one of our phones and talk about how by the summer we would be watching it in our new apartment; it was a fantasy but we were right! that was the best part, we were right.

but we didn't know how much more than just that would happen in that place.

we would get drunk a lot, and her boyfriend would come over all the time, but mine never would because she hated him. so i would lie to her and tell her i was going to spend the night at my grandparents' house, like i was having an affair. sometimes i would be really clever about it and bring home books, or baked goods, or dish towels, and i would have all the evidence of being exactly where i said i was. that was before she started reading my journal and tracking my location, and then there was no point in lying anymore. we would share music, and run errands, and go to concerts. i still think the hardest i've ever laughed in my life was with her. we would talk to each other in silly voices and accents, and secret languages, and we would fight with each other in code words, and writing on the wall, and text messages.

to rival the memory of her holding the coffees at the end of my bed in the morning, i have another one of her standing in my bedroom doorway with a bottle of wine in the middle of the night. that was the night she assaulted me, and then made me talk to the police officers who showed up at our door when she locked herself in the bathroom screaming. i had to tell them everything was okay, i had to tell them she was okay, and so was i. the next morning she was gone when i woke up, and when she got home she told me she had spent the whole day driving around the city looking for drugs. she was violent and pathological. she was my best friend, and i loved her.

on her nineteenth birthday, we drank malt liquor on the living room floor while her boyfriend tried on new clothes in her bedroom. she played this song, Glowing, i'm so sorry to hear that you're going but you'll be happy to know that you're glowing, and she got really close to my face and stared at me really hard. her eyes looked like they were made out of glass and she said, "this song is about you. you're glowing, and you don't even know it, but i need you to know it. you're glowing, you're glowing, you're glowing." it was one of those few fleeting and fragile moments where she loved me too. now that it's over i'm just glad i survived.

and that's the double-sided coin i keep flipping in my mind lately. i worked so hard putting myself back together in the nuclear fallout of our friendship when it was all finally over. it took me a long time to finally feel like myself again. i had to move in with my big brother because no one trusted me to be alone. i have spent the last five years stitching myself back up, icing the bruises she left on my throat, putting scar cream over the places that still hurt - and they do still hurt sometimes, i think maybe they always will. and sometimes, when it's quiet and i'm alone, or i taste Malibu rum, or when i hear one of those songs by one of those bands she loved, or when i become unignorably aware of all the ways she rubbed off me, even though i'm happier now, even though my roses are finally growing back, even though i'm sober now, even after the EMDR and the hospital stays, sometimes it'll hit me that we can never go back; and in some fuzzy and incoherent way, i'll miss it. i'll miss her.

the good and the bad, they don't cancel each other out. they're not equal, not even close. i can still hear the screaming, i can still feel every word she let tear from her throat. i spent more time cleaning up after her than i ever spent with her. i hold everyone at arm's length because of things that happened during that year. she completely restructured how i approach people, and how i avoid them. i have boundaries and fears now that i didn't before, and sometimes on cold nights i'll open my window and the air outside will smell like car exhaust, cinnamon, and ice and i'll hear her music playing from the next room over, i'll feel her weight on the other side of the couch where in my mind we're still sitting, i'll feel that burn in the back of my throat exactly how it was all those years ago.

when those moments come i'm never sure what to make of them. i'm not sure where the pieces of us land when they fall. i have this voice note in my icloud of us talking to each other in the truck and when i listened to it again there were moments when i couldn't tell our voices apart. when you love someone like that, you never really escape them, your love for them will start echoing and stretching, contorting itself, leaking into the love you grow after you lose them. you give pieces of yourself away in order to save room for the pieces of them you're still holding onto. sometimes my new friends will pattern off of me, but the mannerisms they pick up were her's in the beginning. and i'm the only person who will ever know that. when someone you love takes a boxing glove and a loaded gun to all the most tender parts of you, the love doesn't go away. it just bruises. it survives, and it learns to walk with a limp, and so do you, and you heal but it doesn't, and you're forced to find a seat for it at your table, or at least some comfortable box in the attic. it's strange and melancholy, and you have to remember that nostalgia is not famous for its honesty.

i think of her when i catch myself in the act, when i make bad decisions, and i remind myself of all the lessons i've already learned the hard way. she completely changed my life, she's foundational to this person i am, and if i'm lucky she'll never know that. love and pain have become some kind of balancing act that i am always performing. i cannot put either of them down, but in my two hands i now cannot hold anything else.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

The woman's voice in earbuds: Battery Low Arthur: So you're just going to leave me. Just like everyone else

[doux-amer]

Lol love how when I was considering what jersey to get all those years ago because finally it felt like things were different at Liverpool, and I was SO afraid of getting Mo's jersey. I felt like I'd jinx things and he'd leave quickly if I did or even if he didn't, he was bound to leave soon because I was so used to how bad Liverpool was and couldn't see why any genius-level players would want to stick around unless they had a personal connection to the club and maybe not even then. Because that's how bad it was before Klopp.

But then I got it and that "one season wonder" stuck around for nearly a decade and just signed a contract extension while the kid I thought would be the safest bet, the one whom I picked when I couldn't decide which player on the squad to get on the back of my jersey because I loved them all because 1. he's my son, 2. he's a local lad through and through and this is his hometown, so of course he'd stay, and 3. he's going to be future captain one day and I'll look at my jersey with fondness because it'd make me think of his entire career, is the one who's leaving. Joke's on me. I should have known better.

Lol. Lmao even. 🤡

[kaijutegu]

Alligator Bites Might Never Heal, But Doechii Is Good At Holding Alligators

Doechii won the Grammy for Best Rap Album for Alligator Bites Never Heal, but she also should have won the coveted and definitely not fictitious "Best Alligator Handling" award for the way she held Coconut on the cover!

(Yes, it's this Coconut.)

And the best part? She released a BTS video showing how they shot the cover, meaning that we can see more than just the still image! If a picture's worth a thousand words, video's worth... a lot more. (Sorry if it autoplays I don't think I have any control over that either way)

So, using the photoshoot images and video as evidence, let's take a look at how Doechii handled this alligator very well! I'm going to go into excruciating detail here because I think it's important to know why something is good just as much as it is important to know why something is bad. It's hard to understand alligator body language a lot of the time, so in this writeup, I will address how Doechii's holding the gator and what she's doing right, as well as point out how you can tell from Coconut's reactions that she is not distressed.

Body Support

In the album cover image, Doechii is seated, which is good, because even though she's a small alligator, Coconut is a very strong and powerful creature. That tail is pure muscle! But even in the standing images, you can see that Doechii is giving Coconut great body support and holding her correctly- close to the body, but without grabbing too tightly or being restrained uncomfortably. I think for a gator of this size I would have recommended pinning the back foreleg against her body for a little additional support and movement restriction- but I don't think she had to restrict movement because Coconut seems quite relaxed!

In the seated image, Doechii has one hand under Coconut's chest, supporting her sternum and head. The other hand is on top of her tail, and her knee is under the pelvic girdle. This type of hold lets the alligator feel safe; remember that these are aquatic and terrestrial creatures. An insecure hold that risks dropping them is going to stress them out and make them uncomfortable. By holding the alligator gently against her body and not squeezing, she's avoiding any uncomfortable pressure.

Head and Throat Support

In all of the images, Doechii is bringing her hand under Coconut's neck, creating a cradle with her hand so that the alligator can rest her head. But what she's not doing is she is not squeezing or grabbing the throat. The throat is one of the soft bits of an alligator, and squeezing it too tightly is very uncomfortable for them. But the way Doechii is supporting her gives her several degrees of freedom to move her head if she so chooses.

Body Language

Another indication of good handling is that it's clear that Coconut is not uncomfortably stressed. Alligators express displeasure with being held in a lot of ways, including struggling to get away, hissing, and holding their mouths open. (If you want to know more and see my sources, you can read my post on alligator body language. LOTS of info there, including peer-reviewed ethology sources that explain what alligators do and why they do it! Go get your data-driven answers!)

But Coconut isn't doing that; she's calm and alert. You can see in the BTS video that she's active on set. She's not shut down, and when she wants to walk around, she's not restrained. Obviously the video is an edited timelapse, and it's not the whole story- but when people show alligators in media, they usually don't know enough about them to edit out any uncomfortable body language. So I think that if she had been upset, we would have seen that.

We can also see in the video that Coconut is unbanded, meaning her mouth was not held shut. I thought they might have banded her and then edited the band out for the cover, but no, there was nothing restricting any distress cues. Banding is usually done for public safety, but the facility Coconut's from... doesn't do that, so I'm not surprised she's unbanded. At least it gives more evidence that she's not trying to gape!

One more good indicator that Coconut was comfortable is that she's got her eyes open, which you can even kinda see in the video if you zoom in. Reptiles will often squinch their eyes shut to avoid distressing stimuli or signal distress, and albino alligators have even more reasons to do this. They're much more sensitive to light than their pigmented counterparts. But it looks like her on-set work was completed quickly, meaning that she didn't have to be around bright lights for long.

In conclusion:

Doechii's album cover is an example of good alligator handling. Yay!

That said, please note that this is only about handling and is divorced from any other issues surrounding this particular alligator. (Read the body language post if you want more on that.) These are not issues I'm touching in this post, because that's not the point! I simply want to point out an instance of good handling and how you can identify relaxed body language in an animal that is notoriously hard to read when posted on social media.

[dduane]

Just a local update

For those who'll be wanting to know how I'm doing: I think right now the line from The Right Stuff is probably apropos. I'm "maintaining an even strain."

I sort of have no choice, because there's a lot of bureaucratic stuff surrounding Peter's loss that has to be dealt with, and there's not really anyone else to fall back on: in terms of local legalities; this burden falls on me. (shrug) So, I'm keepin' on keepin' on. It's not easy, when half your world has ended: but there's nothing else to do.

Just repeating the news that I just edited into the original post about all this: the "funeral expenses" issue is now handled.

And I want to thank EVERYBODY who so incredibly generously has stepped up to assist. You are all, every one of you, in my heart right now... not least due to the many, many kind things you've had to say about Peter. Current events mean I'm going to be backed up on the thank-yous for some days yet. Please bear with me.

For those who feel inclined, the Ko-Fi account here is open as usual for those who might simply want to drop something into the pot tagged "GNU Peter Morwood."* I'm looking into his notes about his preferred charities so that I can split all such donations in those directions. (For example, P. lost a beloved cousin to childhood leukemia, so I'm looking around for appropriate cancer charities. ...But more of that later.)

In local issues: I'm still waiting for word from the coroner as to when Peter's post-mortem will be happening. (I had hoped it might be today, but there's no news yet.) Not much to be said about this except that the sooner that's all handled and resolved, the happier I'll be. Then other adjacent issues can start being dealt with.

At the physical end: I haven't been sleeping terribly well, but that's probably no surprise. My appetite has been almost nonexistent, but that at least is very slowly starting to recover (to the point where at least food is no longer a source of "no interest whatsoever" or of active distaste). Right now it seems I get better results from eating out instead of cooking in: so that's the way things will go in the very short term.

But for now, pretty much all I can do is sit tight, try to keep household business from getting out of hand (why does it suddenly take so much energy just to do the dishes? ...like I don't know perfectly well why), and wait for Forces Beyond My Control to get moving.

Meanwhile, let me take a moment here to thank everybody who's expressed concern about the state of my wellbeing (and that at a time when I care a whole lot less about it than usual). It's heartening, and I very much appreciate it. I promise to do my best to do right by myself, on all of your behalf. (Behalfs? Behalves? Pfft.)

Thanks again, everybody. —D.

*People are also reminding me that the financial health of the household's still-living member in the immediate future is also an issue here. 😏 Heaven forbid I should argue the point. If you want, tag such donations as "DD" and I'll note that. ...And thanks again, all. I can always count on y'all to look after me. ❤️