#is intended to be very lasting and very stable and it has its own special word and its normal to look for it etc etc and

[catboyfurina]

One of the really irritating things about that 'oh QPR is just friendship, clearly you've never had friends, lmao loser' discourse is that (and there are many irritating things this is just one of them) even in QPRs that ARE just friendships with a new fancy label.... like...? There are many kinds of friendship that people just have because it's easier than not. And there are friendships that you think are going to be incredibly lasting, but then they date someone new and suddenly you're no longer a priority. The QPR label lets people attach an intentionality and priority to their friendship that really is not guaranteed..... like also not every QPR is this way etc etc but even when it is Just Friendship T M its still like entirely reasonable to want to use that label to signify that it isn't casual

[automaticneon]

Hunting Season

Helmut Zemo X Fem!Reader

Summary: Going into hiding isn’t easy, and you and Zemo have to find new ways to entertain yourselves. Your Baron wants to introduce you to something a little different today.

Warnings: Very not safe for tumblr lmao. BratTamer!Zemo comes out in full force, inappropriate use of a riding crop, impact play, Zemo in leather gloves (that deserves its own warning in my opinion), oral (fem receiving) but with ✨added spice✨

When your new partner Zemo had said that you were going to have to lay low for a while, there was evidently an error in communication.

You see in your world flying under the radar meant months travelling between safehouses and run-down apartments, living out of your rucksack and calculating how long you could make your rations last before you had to emerge to restock. 

In Zemo’s world that meant something entirely different.

After his escape in Riga the two of you had rendezvoused and begun the long drive to Austria, hesitant to take the jet out of fear the Dora Milaje would be keeping tabs on it. After two days of driving and an overnight stop in Poland the two of you had finally arrived at the location Helmut had deemed sensible for your hiding place. 

A sprawling country manor somewhere between Vienna and Graz. 

“I inherited it from my mothers side,” he told you when you first entered the light airy entry hallway, as if it was a common occurrence that someone would inherit such a place.

It was times like these that you were reminded that you and Helmut were not cut from the same cloth, he was a literal Baron and you were only an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D. 

Had been. You had been an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D. You were now technically a fugitive of the law, wanted for aiding and abetting the escape of your criminal boyfriend.

It took a lot of time to adjust to your new life in the manor, but Zemo was ever so patient with you. He never berated you for getting lost in the long hallways, was always patient when you asked about the difference between a Baron and an Earl, and humoured you when you quizzed him about the events frequented by aristocracy. 

Eventually you began to feel at home. You and Helmut fell into a happy routine of exploring the house and grounds and enjoying each others company. 

Of course these activities were all interspersed with a healthy dose of fucking. Frantic, groping sex hiding behind marble statues in the sculpture gallery, giving fashion shows to Zemo in all the new clothes he bought you just so he could tear them off you again, kneeling between his thighs in the parlour whilst he enjoyed his evening whisky. 

The two of you couldn’t get enough of each other.

“I should take you to see the stables tomorrow” he muses one night, trailing the tips of his fingers over your exposed back  “I want you to meet the horses before I take you out one”

“You should know then that I can’t ride to save my life” you warn.

An amused smile spreads across Zemo’s tired face.

“I beg to differ” he quips roguishly, breaking out into a smug laugh when you slap his chest in admonishment, 

“Don’t be crude, I’m being serious!”

“And so am I, you broke me tonight my love. You can be a cruel mistress when you want to be” he says, pressing a tender kiss on the top of your head.

“I learnt from the best” you say, and return the kiss with a brief peck against his chest.

“And I’m sure you’ll learn a lot more”

-

The sun over the grounds the next morning was bright and crisp, dispelling the mist from the lake and leaving behind a pleasant climate for your walk.

“You look lovely,” Zemo says as you meet him in the entry hall. He’s fixing the lapels of his long brown overcoat in one of the ornate mirrors and his warm eyes find the reflection of yours as you approach from behind. He picks up his trusty pair of worn leather gloves and slides them on, flexing his fingers to soften the material.

Ever the gentleman he offers you the crook of his arm.

“Shall we?”

-

The two of you make pleasant conversation as Zemo leads you through the grounds of the estate. Today he’s full of promises about the future, it warms you to know he intends to make this last.

“I should take you into Vienna soon, I know a place where they perform Mozart by candlelight”

“Have you been to any races before? We could visit Monaco, or perhaps somewhere in Spain would be less conspicuous”

“I promise we won’t always have to hide like this”

The stable was an old building, as old as the house, but impeccably well maintained. The stalls, of which many were empty, were arranged around a courtyard and as you wondered around the perimeter Zemo pointed to the various amenities.

“Back when we still hosted the hunting season this place would have been filled with horses. My mothers side of the family took great pride in their collection” he said as you stopped to pet the nose of a great black horse.

“You hunt?” 

“Not personally, my parents were fans of the tradition of it all”  he says, his gloves creaking as he flexes his fingers “I joined the army very young. I suppose when you start killing out of necessity, killing for sport becomes somewhat repugnant.” 

You knew very little about Zemo’s time in the army. From what you could gather it had been a particulalry unpleasant time in his life, one born from a sense of duty to his country and a need to establish his place in the world before he took up the mantle of Baron. 

Helmut’s aversion to hunting didn’t seem to impact his care towards the horses, he told you each of their names and ages and you admired how healthy and shiny their coats looked. 

As you walked he kept a hand on the back of your neck, a possessive little gesture that he had taken to recently. The warm leather of his gloves a relaxing presence as he lead you through the tack room, a clean and chalky white room with a high vaulted ceiling. Your footsteps echoed on the stone floors as you admired the expensive riding gear mounted on the wall, stopping at a collection of leather riding crops.

“Oh Baron,” you teased, plucking one from the wall “very kinky” 

Helmut gave you a lazy smile as you reached out and tapped the flat end of the crop against his cheek, huffing out a little laugh before taking it from you. 

“Careful there my love, you could do real damage with that.”

You laugh and move to perch on the sturdy wooden worktable in the centre of the room.

“As if I’d ever want to hurt your pretty face, Helmut” 

“I’m flattered, but it’s hardly a matter of if you’d want to,” he says, fixated on tapping the crop in his open palm “you need good training to use these properly.”

You narrow your eyes. You’re fairly sure that he’s sizing you up right now, trying to figure out if you’re down for whatever it is he has planned. 

You decide to bite the bait.

“Do you think you’re well trained, Baron?” 

For a fraction of a second he doesn’t respond, keeping you trapped in his levelled gaze instead. His nostrils flare and he puffs his chest ever so slightly.

“Get up,” he says in a tone that verges on cold. 

You obey, but the sparkle of a challenge still glints in the deep of your eyes. If Zemo notices he doesn’t make it known, simply clenching his jaw as you come to stand before him.

“Turn around and put your hands on the table,” he instructs, and you can feel his gaze on you as you comply. 

“We’re going to try something new today. You can always say no if you want to,” he says, placing his hand between your shoulder blades and pushing, bending you slightly over the table.

Experimenting wasn’t anything new with you and Zemo, over the last few months the two of you had tried just about everything that took your fancy in the bedroom. You were fairly sure you knew what he had planned, particularly from the way he was using the riding crop to tease the inside of your leg, but you still wanted him to say it out loud.

“What do you have planned?” you ask, and your voice gives out just a little when Helmut uses the crop to make the tiniest slap against your leg.

“Five hits. If you can take five hits I’ll give you something special in return” he says, lifting the hem of your floaty skirt with the crop until it rests on the small of your back and leaves you exposed to him.

You know he’d give you something in return no matter what happened. If you noped-out after one swat? No problem. You had complete faith in this man to make sure you stayed happy and satisfied and so you arch your back a little in anticipation. 

Helmut smooths his gloved hand over the globe of your ass, lulling you into a soothed state before stepping back. You don’t look back at him; the silence and the tantalizing suspense only adding to the excitement growing between your legs.

You register the sound of the hit before you register the pain.

The soft whoosh and harsh crack echoes around the high ceilings and bounces off the white-washed walls. It’s not a strong hit, barely even a swat. Zemo had used more force with regular spanks before yet the harsh bite of the leather crop still startles you.

“Alright?” He asks, and finally you turn your head to face him.

A rogue strand of hair dangles over his forehead and his pupils have blown to swallow up his hazel eyes. Helmut looked as though he was holding onto his sanity by a thread, and that was a thread you wanted to break. 

You nod, not trusting your voice to remain levelled and instead turn to face forward again to await the second hit. 

The next swat was just the same as the first, but with the now tender condition of your skin it hurt slightly more. The third was ever so slightly harder, forcing a yelp out of you and making your nails dig into the wooden table. 

Zemo puts down the crop for a moment, coming to stand behind you and hovering his hand over the welts you’re sure are forming on your ass. You peer over your shoulder at him, watching the way his breath comes in quick pants as he examines his handiwork.

His eyes flit up to briefly meet yours before using his teeth to pull off one of his leather gloves and he tentatively brings his fingers between your legs, careful not to touch the tender flesh of your rear. His fingertips gently run along the clothed seam of your pussy, feeling the way your arousal is soaking your underwear.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he quizzes as you tremble under his touch. His fingers find your clit through the fabric and begin to circle it, letting out a low chuckle the way you moan and slouch at the contact. 

“God your wet,” he berates, and that momentarily sated spark reignites at his tone. 

“I’d be a lot wetter if you actually put your back into it” you quip, and Helmut’s fingers still. You keep pushing.

 “I assumed you were trained well with these. I guess I was wrong” 

Your Baron doesn’t respond, and you can practically hear the last strands of his self restraint snapping. 

Grabbing his discarded glove, Zemo presses himself against you fully, using his weight to pin you down against the table. The expensive material of his trousers rub against the sore skin of your ass, and you can feel his arousal pressed into you as he uses one hand to grasp your jaw.

“You’re going to regret that, мали зека” he warns against your ear, tightening his grip to force your mouth open and stuff it with his leather glove. 

Zemo steps back, pulling his other glove off and pressing it into your palm.

“You drop that glove and this all stops. If you don’t, then I don’t want to hear anything else from that smart mouth” he says, picking up the crop and taking his place again. 

You love it when he gets like this. When you’ve broken down that cool and collected exterior you know that both you and your pussy will be paying for it for days to come. Not that you have a single complaint about that, though.

The next hit catches you entirely off guard. It’s much harder, causing your skin to warm instantly and your body to jolt against the table. Helmut waits, probably to see if you drop the glove.

When you don’t he delivers the final hit, so harsh that the tears pooling in your eyes spill over, trailing down your cheeks and mixing with the drool that has begun to dribble from the corner of your gagged mouth. 

You don’t realise that your face had pressed itself against the table-top until Helmut is pulling you back up. He pulls the glove from your mouth, using one had to smooth your hair away from your face in a soothing gesture. 

“It’s over,” He says, pressing his lips to yours in a frenzied kiss “you did so well.”

He shrugs off his coat, placing the material on the table and guiding your head back down, giving you a soft place to rest your head.

“Do you want your reward?” he asks, stepping back behind you again.

“Uh-huh” you nod against the soft coat, all of the fight had been drained from your body, evidently the ability to speak had gone with it too.

You feel as Helmut slowly pulls your underwear over the curve of your ass and down your legs, shushing you softly when you whine over the soreness of your skin. He nudges your feet apart, and you feel him kneeling down behind you. 

His hands find purchase around your waist, and he presses a kiss to the skin of your ass, being careful to find a place that doesn’t have any welts. His breath fans across your skin as he moves to press a kiss directly on your pussy, pulling away to listen to your breathy sigh. After the pain, soft and pure pleasure felt so good. 

Helmut buries himself into the warm wetness, feasting on your pussy whilst you moan into his coat. His signature smell clings to the fabric and fills your nose, fisting your hands into the silky lining you pull the coat closer to you.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he manages to make you cum like this. All he has to do is bring one of his fingers to circle your fluttering, soaked hole and he has you falling apart on his tongue. 

He holds you up as you practically sob into his coat, pressing fleeting kisses against your swollen pussy until your aftershocks stop. Helmut raises to his feet, gently pulling up your underwear and fixing your skirt, trailing kisses up your back until he reaches your head.

“How was that?” he asks, his voice quiet and tender.

“Good,” you push yourself up from the table shakily, letting Helmut keep his hands on your arms to keep you upright “you’re waiting on me hand and foot for the rest of the week though” 

Helmut laughs, picking up his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“Of course,” he says, pulling you in for a tender kiss “your wish is my command”

You kiss him back, smiling into the embrace as a few ideas for revenge spring to mind.

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding IX

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV  - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII

Content Warning: This chapter contains potentially triggering material, particularly aftermath of attempted suicide as well as discussions of bodily injury.

Cody woke up the morning after the...drunken keldabe still feeling uneasy. He spent half an hour attempting to read over reports in preparation for the Umbaran campaign before giving it up as a lost cause. He distracted himself for a little while by pouring over last night’s cantina surveillance, before giving up on that as well and sending a message to General Skywalker.

‘Any updates on General Kenobi’s status?’

He watched the comms as communications from everyone besides the General trickled in. He answered a few requests for requisitions, forwarded some medical reports, and ignored an irritating handful of overly-personal questions. 

Agonizing over it the whole time, he opened a comm-text link to Obi-Wan. It took nearly an hour, but he managed to send two sentences. ‘Hope you’re recovering well. Look forward to upcoming mission discussion.’

He immediately wanted to retroactively delete the message, mortified by every word and deeply concerned at every second that passed without a reply.

He spent the next 30 minutes hunched over, quickly closing every incoming CT and CC communication, justifying the time to himself as ‘technically on leave.’

He lurched forward when he finally received a General’s comm code, but slumped in disappointment when it was Skywalker, not Kenobi.

‘Not as drunk but still seems a little high. He says he wasn’t drugged. He’s taking the rest of the day off. I’m monitoring.’

Taking the rest of the day off. Did that mean he wasn’t carrying around his comm? Kriff. Should he more or less concerned that the general was actually taking a day off?

He decided to be more concerned.

‘Thank you for the update. Respectfully request information on any changes.’

Hopefully that would encourage Skywalker to keep him informed even if he stopped freaking out over his vod’s behavior.

Stowing the remote comm, he stood up and exited the temporary planet-side office, throwing himself into cleaning up the mess that was nearly 20,000 clone troopers simultaneously attempting to get the most out of a very brief R&R. 

Shortly before mid-day, he received another update from Skywalker.

‘Just managed to get him to medical. Healer cleared him of drug interactions but Obi-Wan’s still acting strange (not crying, but a lot of hugging).’

Cody stared at that for a long while.

‘Any other verbal indications of upcoming danger?’ he finally asked. Skywalker didn’t reply. 

Shortly after nightfall, his incident reports were interrupted by a call from an unknown temple number. He quickly opened it, and a holo of an unfamiliar Mon Calamari female healer appeared in miniature on the desk.

“Commander Cody. Thank you for answering so quickly. Are you somewhere private?” she asked, voice deliberately neutral.

The Commander tensed up. “Yes, sir. I’m in CC office space, alone. The room and the channel are both secure. Is this regarding General Kenobi?”

“Yes.” She replied. “My name is Master Bant Eerin; I’m a temple healer as well as a personal friend of Obi-Wan’s. He’s...he’s in the healing halls right now. We’re still trying to understand exactly what happened- I’ll tell you what I can but first we need to rule out any possible drugs he may have contact with. I need you to describe in detail anything he may have been exposed to that could have possibly had mind-altering effects.”

The Commander was a professional. He swallowed back his fear, his questions, and his demands to know what was going on.

“Of course. Everything on the Negotiator was GAR Standard, and I was with him when we left the ship. We went directly to the lower levels. The first time he was exposed to anyone outside the 212th was when we left our transport on level 3915. I...actually have footage of him the whole time night after that point. I’m sending it over right now, sir.”

“That would be extremely helpful, thank you.” He watched as she pulled it up on a second comm, sound barely audible. 

He continued with his report: “One of the boys took it without permission. He didn’t mean anything by it, he’s just an idiot; I’ve already issued a severe reprimand. In any case, he brought it to me after I issued surveillance on the cantina, it tracks everything the General did- as far as I can tell, he had a glass of house grub wine, two shots of rancor blood, and an unnamed mixed cocktail ‘on the house.’ You can see everything the bartender added- as far as I can tell nothing was slipped in. He just... blacked out suddenly after the fourth drink, and quickly startled awake, confused by his surroundings.”

“I see.” Her tone was still carefully neutral and Cody didn’t know how to read her expression. He waited, wishing he was wearing his bucket so he didn’t have to keep schooling his face into professional patience.

“You brought him back to the temple...correct?” 

“Yes, sir.”

She let out a deep breath, gills fluttering slightly. “We’ll probably have more questions later, but please understand our inquires are entirely based around determining how we can best help Obi-Wan. This call and any future ones are not intended, and should absolutely not be interpreted, as indications of blame. He’s actually spoken to me about you before, I know he has the deepest respect for you, personally and professionally. Someone will likely be assigned to talk to everyone whose spent time with him recently, including myself.”

The sick feeling in his gut from last night returned full force. “I...believe I understand sir. His condition is serious, then?”

Her gills fluttered again.

“Even now, I think we can safely anticipate a full physical recovery. He...there’s no easy way to say this...it appears he attempted to end his own life. Knight Skywalker got to him just in time, and he received bacta within minutes of the initial burn. I...like I said...we’ll began work to figure out why-”

Her voice broke and she stared up, large tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. She hastily wiped them away.

“Rest assured commander, he’s getting the best treatment possible. Thank you for your assistance. I’ll do my best to answer any questions you might have right now. This is my personal comm link- please feel free to reach out to me at any point for updates.”

“I-” Cody cleared his throat. “Can I come to the temple? To...” he trailed off, not sure how to finish.

“Not tonight, I’m sorry. The healers need to focus; he’s not allowed any visitors until he’s out of Bacta, I’m afraid.”

“Skywalker must be throwing a fit at that” Cody remarked numbly.

The healer winced. “Knight Skywalker is currently sedated. He was...injured in the struggle to keep Obi-Wan from further harm. Master Windu witnessed part of it, but we’ll have to wait until its safe to wake him to get the full story. I’ll be notifying Captain Rex of the situation after we finish speaking.”

“I’ll do it.” Cody offered immediately. “Tell me what happened.”

Eerin hesitated. 

“Please, Sir. It will be better coming from me and...if he’s the only other trooper who’s being informed at the moment...”

“Of course,” she said quietly. “We don’t know the full circumstances, but at some point in performing emergency care for Master Kenobi, Knight Skywalker was stabbed in the lower abdomen with a vibroblade. It pierced his large intestine. The blade was pulled out shortly before healers arrived, causing some further damage and blood loss. He’s already finished surgery, and should only need a few hours of Bacta at most. Considering his extraordinary past recovery rates, he’ll likely be out of bed tomorrow and fully healed by the end of the week.”

“General Kenobi wouldn’t...” Cody trailed off again. He was having a hard time putting coherent sentences together.

Bant looked at the ceiling for a moment, seeming to collect her thoughts.

“Psychosis can have many manifestations. Even with- with conventional injuries, people can mistake help for harm. There’s just too much we don’t understand, and only so much we can learn before they wake up. Are you certain you wish to be the one to inform Captain Rex?”

“Yes.” That was about the only thing the Commander was certain of right now. “Is there anyone else in the GAR I should inform of...anything?”

“The military aspect of this isn’t my area of expertise. If there’s someone you trust who can be a support for you, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to tell them in confidence. Some form of what happened is going to get out eventually.” she replied. “Please use your discretion, I suppose. It’s...not really my speciality but I imagine you’ll receive further orders on how much to release to the GAR once Obi-Wan’s stable.”

Right. Discretion. Because Obi-Wan wasn’t just Obi-Wan- he was a high general in charge of nearly 1/3 of the republic’s forces. If word of this got out to the wrong ears it would cause mass panic, maybe even an emboldened separatist advance. It was an insane amount of responsibility for one person, no wonder - he deliberately didn’t finish the thought.

“I’ll comm the Captain immediately. Thank you for the information, General.” he said out loud.

“Feel free to contact me for further updates, and tell Captain Rex he’s welcome to do the same. I’ll message you when its clear to visit the halls.”

“Yes, Sir.” Cody responded, saluting automatically. 

“Take care of yourself, Commander Cody”

The hologram blinked out. Cody sat motionless for several long moment before sweeping his desk off, sending the assorted flimsies and redundant comm-units of various designations to the ground.

He stared at the empty desk, then tapped a button on his wrist comm, opening a private audio channel. “CT-7567, please come in” he said calmly.

“Cody?” came the alarmed reply. “I’m here, what’s going on?” Why did he sound so panicked? He had deliberately used his calmest voice. Oh well.

“Please report immediately to CC Office 12 in Guard Headquarters”

“I’ll be there in 10″

Cody hung up. He stared at the blank wall. He knew something was wrong with how the General said goodbye.

He opened the single desk drawer and dumped the odd wires and coins inside to the floor. Eerin had said burn. That could mean a lot of things, but lightsaber was the most likely. 

Cody puked profusely into the empty drawer. He stared at the vomit for a moment before carefully closing the drawer. He still felt a little sick. He hadn’t even said anything back to the General, he just stood there, frozen. 

He stared vaguely at the wall across, wondering if he was going to puke again.

Rex burst into the room. “Cody! What’s going on?! You- kark, what is that smell?”

“I puked in the desk drawer” Cody explained.

Rex shut the door behind him and slowly walked over. He knelt down next to the desk, gently taking Cody’s hands in this own. “Cody. Vod. Talk to to me.” 

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

Rex’s hands tightened over Cody’s compulsively and Cody squeezed back harder. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Rex’s expression.

“Some of ghost company went out for drinks last night. Obi-Wan started acted oddly. We flew towards the temple. He started crying. We got to the temple. He Keldabe kissed me. He told me goodbye. I didn’t say anything back.”

“Oh, vod” Rex whispered. He gently pulled the slack Cody off the chair and onto his lap on the floor. Cody continued mechanically. “I did reports today. Skywalker said he was with him. I left Obi-Wan a message. I don’t think he saw it. He tried to kill himself. Skywalker must have left him alone. He saved him. Obi-Wan stabbed Skywalker.”

Rex froze, still holding on to Cody. 

“The healer called. Asked about drugs. They don’t think its drugs but they had to ask. She said they’re both going to heal completely fine. I have a link if you want to call the healer directly. That’s...it. I have reports to do now.”

Rex held Cody tighter. “Not right now”

“It’s war. People get hurt. People die. I have work to do”

“Not right now,” Rex repeated. “You have the right to be upset. You have the right to grieve. You’re a person, of course you have feelings.”

“Obi-Wan said that.” Cody whispered. Then he started crying. He continued to quietly sob for some time, hurt and bewildered and scared. They sat on the floor together; Rex barely moved, simply held on to his older brother as he fell apart.

Inevitably, Cody’s tears dried up and he pulled away. 

“I don’t know how to clean this,” he said gesturing at that closed drawer. 

“I’ll take care of it. Let’s just get you to bed. There’s CC bunks here, right? 

“Yes but...”

Cody didn’t really like sleeping so isolated, but he also couldn’t imagine facing the 212th right now. 

“I’ll stay here with you. We’ll go to the temple together in the morning.”

Rex shepherded Cody to the fresher. He stared at the mirror with a vague sense of recognition before automatically moving through a standard sanitation routine. By the time he finished, Rex had joined him in his room.

“What did you do with the vomit?” Cody asked, suddenly exhausted. They slipped into bed together.

“Swapped the whole desk with Pond’s. That bastard knows what he did.”

Cody let out a snort. Then, much to his surprise, he sank heavily into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Part X

[ssadumba55]

You (Bernard the Elf x Reader)

Request: Oh my goodness oh my goodness okay I have a cute idea for a Bernard fic! So you know how Bernard wasn't in the third movie? Let's say he was doing some work somewhere else and couldn't see his S/O for so long. How about a little fic when he comes back, maybe surprising his S/O? And everyone is in on it and nobody tells his S/O until they see him! Of course you don't have to write this if you don't want to!

A/N: First one of the season so I’m a bit rusty and this might be highly OOC. Oh well. Enjoy it either way!

Living at the North Pole had kind of started to lose its excitement for you.

Once upon a time, it had been everything you’d hoped for and more.

You used to wake up every morning just raring to go for the day, every day was a new adventure and you had been ready to tackle it. But now, walking through the North Pole was just a cold reminder that you couldn’t be with him.

It had been almost a year and a half now since your boyfriend, Bernard had departed from the Pole, leaving Curtis as his temporary replacement and promising to be back as soon as his work was finished.

What was the work? You had never really found out, Curtis didn’t know, and Santa refused to tell you, it’s not like you were very high up in the elf ranks to demand an answer.

Your job was literally to scoop reindeer poop. Well, you had other jobs, you were a reindeer handler not a personal pooper scooper but that was mostly what the job seemed to entail, unfortunately.

Without Bernard around to force you away from your work for breaks, you spent one hundred percent of your time in the stables tending to the reindeers every whim. Sometimes, the other elves would even arrive in the morning to find you’d fallen asleep on the job, nestled in a pile of hay.

Everyone was worried about you, of course they were. The longer you and Bernard were separated, the less you seemed to care about your own personal wellbeing. The other elves had tried to convince you to take breaks, but you ignored them. Even Santa himself couldn’t drag you away from work (and he’d tried; several times).

After a while, everybody had stopped trying. You don’t exactly know what had changed their opinions on your workaholic behavior, but one day everybody seemed to simultaneously agree with each other to leave you to your own devices. Maybe they finally realized there was nothing on this planet that would get you out of those stables.

 You wiped your forehead, tossing your rake to the side and leaning against the side of the stall. For some reason, none of your fellow worker elves had decided to join you in the stables that day. The whole way to your job you’d received odd looks and whispers, but you figured they were just making fun of your workaholic habits.

“I heard you moved in here,” a familiar voice said from behind you, just as you started getting back into the groove of your work after your short break. You didn’t even turn around, there was no point. You knew it was just some elf trying to get you to take a break.

“Yeah, I sleep in the hayloft,” you snorted sarcastically. There was a sort of laugh in response and you straightened up, fully intending on telling whoever this was to scram. You needed to focus on work, not be chit chatting.

“Look I’d love to talk but-“You turned around, cutting yourself off before you’d even finished the sentence. The last person you’d ever expected to see standing there before you was there.

He looked a little different (maybe a lot). His hair was shorter than last time you’d seen him, and he was definitely just a little bit taller (much to your dismay, he loved to tease you about being slightly taller than you). His usual attire, the clothes he typically wore around the North Pole, had been switched for something more casual, but it looked out of place.

There was no doubt. This was your boyfriend.

As soon as you realized who you’d been talking to, your rake fell back out of your hands, clanging to the floor loudly.

“I’m back?” he grinned sheepishly, “Surprise?”

There was a moment, just a moment where anger flashed through you. It was definitely justified, he disappears with no explanation for a year and a half, then has the nerve to just show up, acting like nothing had changed over that timespan.

As quick as that emotion flashed through you, it left as well. There was no denying that was a silly way to react to your boyfriend coming home.

You realized you’d been standing there staring for far too long to be considered normal and before you could stop yourself, you ran the short distance wrapping your arms around his neck. Without warning, you began to sob into his shirt.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to cry once since he’d left and now here you were, finally, able to let it all out. He didn’t even seem to mind this, rubbing your back gently as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I missed you so much,” you sounded pathetic, you mentally cringed at the tremor in your voice.

“I know. I missed you too, but come on, (Y/n), you promised me you wouldn’t stay in the stable the whole time I was gone,” he slid his finger under your chin, gently guiding your face to look up at him.

“How’d you know?” You asked, guiltily.

“Scott and Curtis. They wrote me in a panic a few weeks ago and said I need to get back here as soon as possible. You were driving them nuts,” he admitted, moving his arm to your waist and gently beginning to coax you out of the stables.

You didn’t even try to fight against him, he was right. You needed a break, you could feel aches all over your body, some in places you didn’t even know it was possible to ache.

“They’ve known you were coming home for weeks and didn’t tell me?”

“I told them not to, I needed to see for myself just how bad you were…”

“And?”

Bernard stopped suddenly in the middle of the main square, meeting your eyes. There was a hint of humour in his eyes, but his voice sounded dead serious: “I’m never leaving you again.”

You pulled him into a kiss ignoring the shouts of relief and happiness from around you. You relaxed as Bernard pulled away to grab your hand and take you somewhere more private.

“I’m sorry for ruining your new job.”

“That job was missing something special anyway.”

You tilted your head as he opened the door to his long unoccupied home, turning to face you in the doorway.

“What was that?”

“You.”

[iron-mum]

I wish you would write a fic where Tony and kid Peter are being adorable father and son as retribution for the angst you’ve made me suffer through in the past hah! (JK I love you and your angst! 💛)

Well, well, well. What do we have here, eh? A request for adorable? I'm not sure, I'm very good at that 😌

Here's SIMTony who would stop at nothing to help his unwell son, Peter get better. Even if it meant using Extremis.

P.S. ILY3000 💕

In the final throes of the graveyard shift at the hospital floor, the elevator pinged for its frequent lone visitor. The front desk staff, whilst tense and sitting up suddenly straighter, knew not to actually engage. No ID was needed for their boss, one of them barely suppressing a gulp as his determined strides headed for the private room that had been deliberately placed near to the room equipped for every possible kind of emergency. Once inside, he carefully shut the door silently and took a seat at the bedside.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Sharp blue eyes shifted from the persistent buzzing of the most technologically advanced medical equipment anyone, anywhere could offer before looking back down to something far more invaluable and precious. Tony’s entire world. His purpose in life. The little boy on the bed lay motionless, breathing slowly and evenly, nose occasionally scrunching up at the discomfort of the oxygen mask upon him. He should have been cocooned in a hug from his father but instead his son, Peter, was littered with wires attaching him to the very best modern medicine had to offer.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Pale, soft skin with the daintiest of freckles stood out against the dark curls spread across the far too big pillow. The small fingers of his left hand had loosely closed around the calloused thumb of his father, letting him know that whilst he had been rendered weak from illness, he was still aware of his comforting presence. Tony’s index finger gently glided across the small knuckles, willing himself to see a tiny curve of the lips on his son’s face.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

This had been the Avengers fault. Peter’s current critical condition. The young boy had been on a school trip when a battle had broken out and the wannabe heroes managed to cause more destruction than lives saved. A chemical explosion had landed most of the class in hospital and many of them had ended up becoming very unwell. Unfortunately for Peter, he already suffered many ailments so even under the wing of Stark’s finest medical personnel, the struggle had taken a toll. The genius shook his head as thoughts of revenge started to sprout from the many seeds that had been planted since the catastrophic incident. He shelved the many ideas he had that would lead to the demise of the reckless group once his kid was better.

It had been hours when the sound of a nurse's footsteps acted as the catalyst that would remove Tony from the room so he could head back to his lab. As he reluctantly moved his hand away, there was no reaction. Not even a twitch from the slender child. Bending down, he tentatively stroked a small amount of the exposed skin that was available on the boy’s face before planting a light kiss on his forehead. By the time the nurse was opening the door to the room to complete the routine checks, any sign of a visitor would be long gone.

The moment Tony was back in his workshop, he strode towards his desk. Music started to reverberate from the ceiling, the sound greatly appreciated compared to the low hum and incessant beeping from the emotionless devices that were currently keeping his son alive.

Tony didn’t believe in a higher power other than himself. So in no way, shape or form was he ever going to accept that he couldn’t save Peter from the incurable illness now ravaging his frail body. Feeling powerless was simply not an option.

Rolling up the sleeve to his top, the genius opened a drawer and pulled out a device meant for extracting blood as painlessly as possible. Not that pain meant much to him these days. No pain would ever compete with a parent having to watch their child deteriorate every single second of every single day.

Satisfied with the draw, Tony placed it into a diagnostic machine of his own making. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of his workshop, eyeing it like he was in the most intense staring contest of his life. Jaw clenching, his arm shot out allowing liquid metal to glide across his skin before firing a repulsor at the glass and shattering it. There was an element of irony to everyone loving his face except himself in the minimal but intrusive “what if” moments that surrounded his current situation. With a crack of his neck, his arm remained outstretched so the Endo-Sym armour could return to it’s housing tank.

“Boss, the results are back,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed as the music lessened in volume. “No adverse reactions detected still. The chemical composition indicates that the Extremis is unchanged in it’s integration with you on a genetic level and continues to remain stable.”

“And the sample from Peter?” Tony asked, confident that he knew what the answer would be.

“Also remaining stable.”

“Alert the staff intending to see Peter following tonight's shift that their presence will not be needed,” the genius demanded as he mentally reiterated the next steps of his plan in his head. Lips curled into devilishly handsome grin at his victory, eyes crinkling at the sides. The smile only softened when his eyes drifted to a framed picture Peter had drawn of the both of them. He’d done it.

“Certainly, boss,” the AI had responded without any acknowledgement. Tony was too busy in thought. Not only was the Extremis flowing through his own veins, leaving him feeling at perfect health. But soon, it would be doing the same for Peter too. Pain free, peak performance and at complete and optimal health.

“Have there been any sightings of the Avengers in the last hour? I feel a splash of revenge is in order for this special occasion?” The holo-screens in front of him started to flicker as social media sites were searched and hashtags refreshed repeatedly. Hulk had been trending within the hour and Hawkeye in the last eleven minutes.

"Well, how about that?" he grinned gleefully. "I really am being spoiled for choice."

Whilst the genius had been certain F.R.I.D.A.Y. had relayed the message to the morning staff, Tony still found himself exhaling sharply at the sight of someone sat by Peter’s side reading his file. The thin bag of Extremis in his hand was shifted into his back pocket as quickly as humanly possible. The good feeling from beating the shit out of one of the Avengers, plus the buzz of providing Peter with a cure that no meagre doctor had been able to, shifted into a tension as tried to work out who it was.

Their face was narrow with sharp features and glasz eyes remarkably penetrating when they met his perusing stare. His black hair had been combed back neatly, the sides of his temples a distinct light grey. The well fitted suit looked designer even for Tony’s impeccable standards.

“Your services are no longer required,” he affirmed with a dismissive flourish of the hands before the man could even introduce himself.

“I’m sorry?” the other man replied without hesitation, closing the file and rising from the chair. Tony’s chair. If he’d been expecting any pleasantries or introductions, he was thoroughly mistaken. Tony was already locked onto Peter, the gentle rise of his chest a welcoming sight as always. He refused to allow his attention to be divided, ignoring the piercing stare boring into him now. “I have an oath to this patient. He critically needs help from the best in all fields. He needs my help.”

The genius turned at that, an eyebrow raised as he looked the doctor up and down. He certainly held himself strongly for someone who had that much audacity in addressing the owner of everything within his current vicinity.

“Are you new around here… Doctor Strange?” He asked disingenuously, eyes narrowing as he scrutinised the name badge. The letters ‘VISITOR - Dr Stephen Strange’ jotted on the bottom, likely the reason he hadn’t got his AI’s memo. The receptionist who let him in would be fired whether it was her fault or not.

“Unlike everyone else in this building, no, I don’t work for you” the doctor shot back tersely. “However, you were so insistent on my consultation that, somehow, I found my diary completely cleared of all surgeries that were booked in.”

“Well, you can now stick them back in your diary. We’re done here.”

“I know this is difficult,” the doctor started, tone suddenly softer as if he were hoping a change of tact would get through. “You brought me in for my expertise, so use them.”

“I’m the most intelligent, capable person on the planet. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.”

“Your arrogance surpasses all the rumours and expectations I had of you,” Strange snapped back incredulously. Apparently nothing was going to get through. “Your child is-”

“You know, it would be a real shame if you were to lose your medical licence, wouldn't it, doctor?” Tony sneered dangerously low. This ungrateful little shit was going to get it for not only wasting his time and energy, but also his son’s. An insignificant speck like the rest of the world.

“Are you threatening me?” the doctor replied doing his best to keep his tone cool and unflinching when the other man removed all personal space between them. The lack of intimidation he was feeling only pissed Tony off more.

“Let’s not test my resolve, doctor.” Despite feeling completely wrong about leaving considering Peter’s condition, Dr Stephen Strange tucked the file he’d been reading under his arm and left the room in just a few strides. Tony had spotted the hand diving for a phone as the door shut behind him and clenched his fists in disdain.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., be a darling and ensure Doctor Douchebag doesn’t make it back home,” Tony demanded followed by a nonchalant sniff.

“Yes, boss. His phone has also unexpectedly lost all signal so will not be usable anytime soon.”

Satisfied with the course of action his AI had taken, Tony locked the door to his son’s room for good measure. He eyed the current equipment before making his move. One of the drips currently providing Peter with much needed medicine was switched to make way for a sample of the Extremis that Tony had meticulously created and tested on himself. He peered at his son, swallowing thickly that this would all be worth it.

Bag secured, the first few drops started instantly, the older man watching as they flowed along the thin tubes before entering the cannula imposed on Peter’s hand. The skin began to glow orange, the lava looking trail gliding all the way up the arm’s before entering the chest. Daring a glance at the monitors, Tony noted an instant improvement in the readouts. A smile spread across his face as sheet-white, sickly skin started to immediately brighten.

Peter’s big, brown doe eyes suddenly shot open as he took a huge gulp of air, eyes landing on his father who was remarkably in focus for the first time in his life without the aid of glasses. Tony removed the oxygen mask so he could take his son’s face in fully for the first time in well over a month.

“Dad?” the young boy croaked, clearly a little disoriented from the abrupt wake up.

“Hey, buddy,” Tony whispered, voice cracking with emotion as he closed the distance between them.

Peter lunged at his father, his small arms wrapping tightly around the genius’ neck and face burying into his chest. It had been far too long since either had been able to enjoy the tender, heart-bursting feeling of overwhelming, unconditional love from one another.

“I love you, kiddo.” Tony gushed as one of his hand’s lovingly cupped the back of Peter's head holding him as close as possible. The other enveloped around his back, his thumb slowly stroking up and down. When the older man's hand started to trail through Peter's hair, the boy somehow managed to burrow even closer. Tony soothingly lifted curls between his fingers and then let them ping back as new life continued to circle through his son’s body.

“I love you too, dad,” Peter whispered, a strain evident in his voice that Tony hadn’t been expecting. When he leant back, he saw the likely cause. Now unnecessary wires were tugging at his child’s skin.

“Let’s get these off you, bud. You don’t need them anymore,” he promised softly as he carefully went to work at removing the monitoring equipment clips and stickers. Peter’s curious eyes followed every step of the way, surprisingly not wincing even when some of the tougher stickers were peeled away. Although he was too young to even begin comprehending what had happened, he knew from vague memories he’d been hurt and that he’d slept a lot. Often he had been unsure if he was dreaming or awake when he’d hear his father read him stories, express his love and let him know how brave he was being. A slight tug on his hand drew him from his recollection as he looked down.

"I’m scared," Peter timidly admitted as he eyed up the last piece of medical equipment attached to him. The cannula in his hand.

“Here’s what we're gonna do, bud. We’re going to put on our brave faces and before you know it, it’ll be all done and over with. Can you show me your bravest, fiercest face?” Tony gently challenged, as part of his upper lip curled and he playfully growled.

The child’s dinky nose scrunched up and his lips pushed out into the biggest pout he could form. He shook his head a little and hummed in a way that likely felt fierce to him but could only be described as adorable to his dad.

"Wowzer. That was super mean, you nearly scared me!” Tony gasped dramatically, as he gestured for the boy to look down and see that the only thing on the top of his hand was a small cotton wool ball and a light pressure from his dad. Using his free hand to fish into his pocket, Tony revealed a green Paw Patrol sticker with Peter’s favourite character, Rocky, on it.

It had been a distant memory since the young boy had handed it to him, having spotted the numerous nicks and cuts that littered his hard working hands after a long day in the workshop. Extremis meant Peter wouldn’t even need it, but the placebo effect would make it worth it.

“Am I all better, daddy?” Peter asked as Tony eyed him up once more. The overwhelmed father cupped his kid’s face and planted another kiss on his forehead, relief washing over him that he was now free from the concatenation of medical instrumentation.

“You most certainly are. And that means we get to skedaddle out of here.”

Before his son could anticipate his next move, his father had scooped him up into his arms and they were making their way not only out of the room, but off of the floor for good.

They’d had a chance to change into matching casual wear and feasted on a huge breakfast before snuggling up on the sofa. Peter had selected an Octonauts movie to watch as he tucked into his father’s side and enjoyed the sound of his steady heartbeat.

It would be a couple of hours when Tony’s phone pinged with a notification he knew was F.R.I.D.A.Y. when she was being discreet. His son huffed at the movement as he shuffled to get the phone out of his pocket, muttering an apology to his kid before opening the message.

[Unfortunate accident on the Hawk’s Nest, Route 97. Vehicle crossed the barrier and rolled multiple times down the cliff’s edge before landing in the Delaware River. Initial scan from one of the Iron Sight Bot #364 shows one survivor.]

Tony’s smirk widened into a full blown smile. Peter’s heart-of-gold eyes suddenly on him, looking up from his position. It was likely a silent protest at the lack of head strokes he was suddenly receiving so the genius replied swiftly.

[Call off any emergency services and get him med-evaced here.]

“You know what I think we need. Celebratory cheeseburgers for lunch,” he announced as Peter let out a squee of joy.

[the-ginger-is-loose-again]

Just finished rereading the Uglies series (from Uglies to Extras, I just saw today that Imposter and its sequels are in the same world, will get on those next) and I'm so glad I did

I remember reading them as they were coming out, my last two are hardcovers cause the soft wasnt even out yet, so I had to have been around 12 or 13, and there was a lot in there that had obviously stuck with me over the years. I didnt remember everything, or even a lot of things, but the themes of being too hard on your "ugliness" because of what society told you, trying to fit into the little boxes and always be perfect, always trying to be right and wanting to run away when you're proven wrong, they stuck deep within me.

Uglies has what I will always think is the most memorable book opening I have ever read, its actually why I reread it. My coworker and I were doing something in a biological safety cabinet at work (let's just say, brains can kinda look the color of cat vomit) and I said as much. We laughed as I explained the book to her, how it had my favorite opening line, all the tech I could remember, and she immediately went home and bought them. She's been ahead of me the whole time, but we have both finished now and have been talking about it.

I had remembered the cat vomit, the hoverboards, the counterclockwise time telling eye jewels, the brain eating nanos, etc, but I almost wish I could remember more of what I had thought about Tally and Shay. This time around, I think I was a lot more sympathetic to Shay. I had always been on Tally side, understanding that she wasn't perfect and had made bad decisions, but was genuinely trying her best, and couldn't quite understand why Shay couldnt look past her own problems to see Tally's.

Shay and Tally were almost destined to be together, they clicked so well in just a few weeks, yet they never got fully on the same page. Once one would come to an understanding of the other, something would change, something would be done or said and they'd be off kilter again. Shay believed so heartily in the paradise of Smoke, she couldn't see why Tally would come to "rescue" her. She had been told about it for months and had already been there for days, once Tally saw Smoke, she agreed that it was important and not something to be rescued from. But Tally had made her choice from a small room in an unknown building surrounded by people engineered to be predators, how do you explain that to someone when you are so far removed from that fear? How do you get someone who is already mad at you about something you didnt start (read the room david) to listen to you longer than the initial "hey I WAS a spy, but now I'm not I promise"? She is 16 and has never been taught the social skills required to get through an ugly conversation because they are told that that's not going to matter after you've turned, why develop the skills?

God, when they are pretties and they start getting bubbly enough to fight, it just didnt feel like a fair fight, they are both trying to deal with partially remembered fights that were never resolved while piling on a new one, and nothing ever gets fully explained! And we the reader get to sit there knowing none of this is truly Tally's fault, but Shay is as justified in her anger as any of them. Shay was the first to be forced under the knife, she had her rightful feelings dragged from her, made to be pretty friends with the girl she still felt had betrayed her. Tally should have pulled Shay in much earlier, she says they didnt because they couldnt count on the others stay bubbly, but if she hadnt been attached to Zane she might have noticed that she already was. And if that was a real concern, her and Zane should have been split up and divided amongst them anyways. Again, I get it, 16, even if they arent pretty headed, they're still stupid. That being said, I wish the books had a longer timeline, the first 3 should have been more than a year long.

Shay introduced Tally into everything they did, and then had to watch as Tally surpassed her and saw that Tally was always given and surrounded by these special circumstances (pun intended). The only time she is consistently ahead is when she is engineered to be so, and even then they are so messed up they can't have single conversation! Their brains get so scrambled that Tally still just focuses right on Zane cause it was the only time she could remember being stable, however vague the memories are, when Shay wants her to focus on her. She didn't have David treating her seriously or Zane treating her bubbly, she had Tally, who listened to her, who talked with her, who trusted her and was trusted in return. Tally who was her friend, until the next thing happens and the next problem occurs before the last one has even ended, and the next time their brains got scrambled and fixed and changed.

I just realized how valid Shay's feelings were this time around. Her reactions may not have always been, but she was wrestling control of her life back inch by inch in the only ways she knew how. They were purposely not taught how to function and I just cannot express enough how very much their brains were fucked with before they had even fully developed, not to mention the lack of support prior to the surgeries that meant they weren't developing healthily anyways! She just needed someone, anyone, looking out for her, where were the adults, oh right, performing these atrocities! These were children!!! Every choice was made for them and then they were manipulated until they were forced through a hole in a way that made them feel like it was their idea or their only option.

[reyescarlos]

#30 from the Prompt list for Tarlos! Please :3

yesss, thank you for sending in a request! hope you like it!

#30 “I love you, okay? I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

TK looks up at the sky, watching clouds drift lazily above him. This is truly a perfect day, his mind at ease in a way it always seems to be whenever he’s spending quality time with Carlos, the man who has had his heart for eleven months now. There may be other people around enjoying the warm weather too but everything outside the perimeter of the blanket they’re stretched out on now doesn’t affect him.

A Sunday picnic in the park is just one of the many simple pleasures in life that he’s been relishing in. The simplicity of being in Carlos’ company is a comfort, one that TK never takes for granted.

Carlos’ head is beside his own, his body facing the opposite direction. Carlos sighs heavily and TK turns his head to read his expression. The man looks pensive, brows furrowed slightly, his lips now pursed in thought as his gaze remains on the sky. TK lifts a hand and smooths one of Carlos’ brows with his index finger, coaxing him from his deep thoughts.

“Where’d you go?”

Carlos faces him then, a small smile on his lips though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. TK lowers his hand but Carlos takes a hold of it and clutches it to his chest.

“I’m right here with you.”

TK can’t help but to smile at the gesture, especially at the quickening thump of Carlos’ heart as the man peers over at him. Nothing seems to ground them more than physical touch; holding hands, hugging, a gentle squeeze. These little instances never fail to bring them back to base.

“Can I ask you something?” Carlos says.

There’s a note of hesitancy in the question that makes TK sit upright. Carlos very rarely sounds unsure of himself and if the look on his face now is any indicator, he appears to be truly nervous about whatever it is he intends to ask.

“Of course you can. What’s on your mind?”

Carlos falters for a fraction of a second before pushing through.

“It’s sort of about your relationship with Alex.”

The name comes out with some disdain. TK does his best to mask his surprise though he doesn’t think he’s doing a very good job of it. Carlos never mentions his ex and TK certainly hasn’t had any interest in thinking about the man, let alone bringing him up either.

“Oh? Um, sure. What about it?”

Carlos sighs and sits up too, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I’m just wondering if that experience has spoiled your views on the subject of marriage.”

TK’s eyes widen and he tries to say something but comes up short. Things have been going perfectly for them since they made their relationship official. This is without a doubt the healthiest and most stable relationship TK has ever been in. To have such a connection to someone, especially on the heels of his last relationship, TK has been pinching himself over his luck.

He and Carlos always talk about loving each other forever but now that TK thinks on it now, they’ve never explicitly talked about it in terms of marriage. It just felt like a given.

He’d love nothing more than to always have this, to be this beside himself with joy and gratitude. In Carlos he’s found true love, one that doesn’t leave him feeling drained and yet still somehow as if he’s not enough. It’s the complete opposite of life with Alex and all the failed relationships that came before.

TK hadn’t been expecting Carlos to have marriage on his mind at this moment and he’s so stunned that he can’t even say anything.

Carlos cringes a bit at his silence and TK could just kick himself for it. But before he can clarify what his silence means, Carlos keeps talking.

“I’m not saying we’re there yet, of course. I know we haven’t even been together for a full year. But I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t easily picture that kind of future with you. And if, hopefully when, the time comes for us to actually reach that stage...I don’t know. I’ve never loved someone this deeply before.

“I don’t know if it’s too soon to even be talking like this. Or if I’m bringing up things you’d rather forget. All I know is that I always want us to be on the same page because I want a happy ending with you, TK, whatever that may look like for us.”

Carlos stops then and shakes his head. “This went a lot smoother in my head,” he jokes nervously. “Sorry for being all over the place.”

TK smiles softly. “You’re doing just fine, babe.”

Seemingly reassured, Carlos pulls in a long breath and nods before continuing.

“He was important to you. You loved him enough to want to make the ultimate commitment. But since things didn’t pan out as you would have hoped,” he says, a polite understatement TK thinks, “I’m curious if you’ve written off the idea of one day marrying someone.”

TK takes notice of the word someone but doesn’t press it. He can already see how vulnerable Carlos feels now even mentioning any of this. He supposes it may just make it easier for Carlos to discuss, phrasing it this way.

“Honestly, no, he hasn’t ruined the concept for me. I’ll admit, when it first happened, I didn’t see a way out of that hopeless feeling. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to date again. Then you came along and proved me wrong.”

Carlos smiles faintly at this, placing a hand on TK’s knee.

“I’m not ruling anything out. My life has taken turns I never saw coming, some surprises much better than others,” he says, bumping his knee softly against Carlos’ with a smile. “But through it all, all those highs and lows, I’ve grown and I’ve changed.”

“So, you could see it in the cards for us?”

TK touches a hand to Carlos’ face, stroking his cheek.

“I could. Anytime I think about our future, it looks so damn bright to me...all of this potential. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

It’s the honest truth. Each morning he wakes up grateful to have Carlos and on those particular mornings he sees Carlos in the spot beside him, he has to wonder how he’s even the same person that suffered so greatly in New York to be thriving so well in Austin.

“No has ever mattered to me this much. I know we’re in a good place with each other,” Carlos says. “ I don’t ever want to lose you or this feeling. And I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, I know. I just had to put that out there.”

TK frowns. “You don’t ever have to worry about that sort of thing with me. I love you, okay? I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. I’ll invent a whole new language just to find another way to tell you how in love with you I am, if that’s what it takes for the message to sink in,” he muses. “I don’t think I really knew what love could actually feel like until this.”

“Even with…,” Carlos trails off but TK can fill in the blanks easily.

“I’ve been realizing that what I had with him wasn’t actually love. Not in its truest form like what I have here with you, anyway. It took my life blowing up to find something real.”

TK looks off for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

“Proposing to him was a last-ditch effort to save a relationship that was so broken. I just couldn’t see it at the time...I didn’t want to, more like it. Things had been off between us for a while and I got this idea going that we just needed to be closer to fix it. I was holding on to something that I should have let go of. Loving him almost cost me everything.”

“It’s a scary thought, imagining what it’d be like if we never met. The love of my life was up in New York that whole time,” Carlos says softly. “It’s scary to think what we could have missed out on. More importantly that the world could have lost you.”

Carlos lets out a shaky breath. “I’m really glad you survived all of that. You’re the strongest person I know and I’m really, really proud of you, TK.”

TK feels his eyes stinging at the sentiment and he blinks back his tears. This isn’t something they talk about often, never mind so openly. But TK is glad for it now. As much as he hates the difficult parts of his past, it’s still a component of his present, something he’ll have to be mindful of his whole life.

But with the support of his loved ones and this man who has become his entire world, he feels confident about his successes on the road ahead.

Carlos looks down, picking at blades of grass at the blanket’s edge.

“I hate even the idea of you ever hurting but it brought you down here to me. Maybe that makes me a bad person, I don’t know. It’s selfish and so wrong to be glad that you got uprooted. I hate the circumstances but I’m glad for the result.”

TK smiles, taking Carlos’ face in his hands. He stares at him for a moment, watching the way the sunlight brings out the honey tones in his brown eyes. It’s enough to make TK melt.

His last few days in New York had been some of the harrowing and challenging days he’d ever faced. Happiness was such an abstract concept, something he didn’t think he’d ever be able to experience again. It made the unexpectedness of finding Carlos just that much more special.

“It’s not selfish and you, Carlos Reyes, are a remarkable person. I’ve never met anyone with a heart like yours. I’m glad for the second chance I got.”

He rests his forehead against Carlos’, kissing the tip of his nose, a hand cradling the nape of his neck.

“Any road that led here would have been worth it. It took a few tries but I know I’ve got it right this time. I want it all with you, Carlos. No doubts about it.”

[bookofmariokingofmaiami]

This is the second time making this post because i am angry as fuck because for some reason when I added the names it didn't save so I'm doing this shit again 

Hey! I had a stupendus idea, the past few days I've gathered a bunch of mitten squad quotes and captain sauce quotes

Soooo, I'll put wich book of mario characters would say each quote and we'll see what happens

Yes I know 99% of the mitten squad quotes is gonna be bolivia and carbon

Also, some quotes reference characters and locations, so I'll put an [ ] with what I think the book of mario counterpart would be

MITTEN SQUAD SEGMENT 

Lewis:"I have successfully turned an ordinary kitchen utensil into the most valuable fork in the known universe, no one man should have this kind of power, but I am not mortal man, as a sexualy identity as a big rock being thrown into the ocean"

Princess of peaches, talking about 1 TEC-20"The robot wasn't able to pick the lock and I lacked the fire power to blow the bitch open" 

Marc:"I left a broom there too so my bucket wouldn't be lonely"

Carbon:"Calm down vegetarians I am talking about animals in video games, animals in real life matter way less"

Barney one:"Killing it isn't the hard part, the hard part is getting away from the explosion of the goddamm Nagasaki bomb strapped up its ass that was rigged to explode once it died"

Bolivia:"Todd Howard [barbie], even in death you find a way to fuck me"

Bolivia:"We came back to the little shit with the ant problem and killed most of the ants, I left one alive for the boy, either he becomes a man or that ant will have a very good day" 

Goomb:"Me brain fixed gud no hurt no more"

Marc:"Picked up trash for the make a wish kid"

Bolivia, talking about maria:"Because she hits like a bull with down syndrome and has the personality of a piece of plywood"

Belize:"You might be wondering, who is the boy and who is the girl? I won't give it away but I will say this, the knife is a whore"

Maria:"I had armor, i had supplies, i had pockets full of room temperature tomatos"

Bolivia:"For some reason I thought that stupid the horse v2 could fly, bad decision on my part"

Carbon:"For some reason this shrapnel character had 200 BB's, what a weirdo, who caries around 200 BB's?, anyway, I talked to daddy and brought my 300 BB's and headed off to clear off the Jefferson memorial"

Goverman::"Get a juice box and strap on your helmet, because we're going to hell"

Carbon:"I punched a puppy to death"

Marc:"My iq is similar to that of a 14 year old block of cheese"

Lewis:"Theres an oxygen exhaust pipe, the second best tipe of pipe to suck on to keep yourself alive, for those who need hand holding, that was not a drug reference, this is a family friendly channel, it was a suicide joke"

Bolivia:"I got an amazing slow motion shot of dogmeat getting fucked to death by a nuclear warhead"

Maria:"My only option was to become a vampire, wich sucked"

Bolivia:"But just as when like how every virtual dog goes to hell when it dies, what the fuck does that even mean?"

Carbon:"I took advantage of a unconscious military officer and beat him to death"

Barney one:"Nothing else says more victory than overdosing on drugs after a war"

Prof. Ceasar reality:"And decided to go to the much bigger and much more research facility x-13 research facility facility center, WHAT? I think I had a stroke"

Bolivia:"Used more than 3% of my frag mines to blow up a dog"

Carbon:"The last few coursers ran for their non existence lives and I went after them because I'm not letting anyone get away, one got away"

Maria:"I got a warning saying that nuka world is intended for those level 30 or above, Mathematics show us that me being lv11 is close enough to lv30"

Carbon:"Killed a pain-maker and got a glimpse into the big G in the sky who manifested himself as a fire axe floating in the air, this voodoo shit has no place in zion so I chopped of the pain-maker's legs and arms so If there is an afterlife he will be a cripple in hell for all eternity"

Goverman:"Its head turned into jelly, I threw its egg down into the nightmare bellow, and then I jumped after it"

Carbon:"A herd of big hornets paid the ultimate price for being alive"

Goverman:"Used his gun to turn off a woman"

Maria:"Me being the player can't open the door, theres a know you have to twist it its a whole process"

Goverman explained why maria survived the fall:"One of them belonged to God and refused to die"

Goombell, talking about hoko saba:"The dragon I pretended to not exist a few minutes ago is one of my mom's friend's kids so I had to play with him even tho he's weird"

Belize:"There was no hamster's luck in a garbage disposal chance that I would follow this giant fuck all the way to the cit ruins"

Lewis:"Along the way i saved a shopping cart from drowning and returned it to its family"

Prof. Ceasar reality:"Its about 24 million cheez its away from New vegas"

Bolivia:"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to bedworld"

Carbon:"With enough notches in my pistol to spell psychopath in braille"

Gooverman:"I spie with my little eye a ville whore who deserves to die, I cleaved her back in half with my stick and what I saw was glorious"

Maria?:"Its kinda like playing the floor is lava, but you can't see the lava and instead of burning to death you turn into a vegetable"

IDK"I hid from Ringo by hiding in ringo"

Bolivia:"The plate worked as well I thought it would, wich means it didn't work"

Bolivia:"There was a 3 for 1 discount on dead raiders if you use the promo code granade at checkout"

Belize:"The only explanation is that has a 5th appendage wich he pulls out on special occasions, wich probably isn't the case, we all know elmo doesn't pull out"

Goomb:"You don't need those things, Jesus got trough his life without any guns"

Goombape:"When i played it as a children"

Barbie:"Its like how you don't know if your life has any meaning until you die and see your score"

Belize:"This was the most stealth oriented part of the game by a metric mile"

Bolivia:"I stripped him naked, talked with Elliot [lewis] whose face bothered me for some reason,Talked with the samurai[maria], talked with red dead redemption [barney one]"

Carbon:"Some idiot spilled red paint on the clouds"

Bolivia:"Before traveling with the wizard, I spent some time pestering earnie with the prospect of friendship, by walking back and forth in front of him, making him think i wanted to talk to him just for me to keep on walking,I was voted the quietest guy I high-school and I know how loud earnie is screaming inside his head right now, it's kinda fun to be in this side of it :) ,also this isn't related to the video in any way, I just wanted to make it known that i have a sealed copy of elmos letter adventure for Nintendo 64 and you don't"

Maria:"I knew I could use that as a lighthouse of sorts in order to cast myself further into the ocean until i drowned in my own disappointment"

Goombell:"Vulpes[carbon] was adopted, his mother is both infertile and imaginary"

Belize:"Being alone is mental, you can be surrounded by friends family laughs and love on Christmas morning and still be alone in your head"

Bolivia:"I acted in self defense by committing various war crimes"

Carbon:"My throwing spears were broken and wouldn't fly,stupid fucking game" 

Bolivia:"That wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the truth"

Maria:"If there's anything Shaun b knows to do is die"

Boombell:"The number of bear traps I activated for sexual reasons turned my angles into a fine powder"

Goverman:"Where the grass is green and the air is even greener"

IDK"I consulted a doctor who flucked out of medical school and followed his advice by killing myself"

Belize:"Being a futuristic[X-nauti], nazi dominated world version of polly poc,etc it has its own set of drawbacks"

Marc:"They're mass effect 3 of fallout 3's 5th dlc, I've never played mass effect"

Lewis:"Who loves their father like how their brother loves his mother's sister"

Carbon:"Like most existential crises it went away after I killed somebody"

Carbon:"If you're wraped in chains and dropped into an empty bathtub to drown, a snorklew won't save you"

Goombape:""A wise man once said "hi! Jeanie may's here"  and he's right, there has to be a better way""

Browser:"After it took 3 grown man to kidnap a baby with a gun"

goldbob:"The lever action gun riffle can kill a mutant in a single shot if you land a shot that can kill it in one hit"

Maria:"Its 2020, Noone wants to use their hands anymore"

Bolivia:"Before journeying into more death, some jackass hit me with a granade and killed me, not the explosion, the granade bouncing off my soon to be corpse is was what made me dead"

Belize:"Some Neanderthals gave me their bullets to hold in a pretty rude way >:("

Princess of peaches:"Im not worried about offending blind people, it's not like they'll be watching this"

Carbon:"30 seconds is longer than you'd think, ask anyone whose been on fire"

Lewis:"I was as useful as a comatose toddler with a nerf gun at pearl harbor"

Goomb:"I also poused the challenge to satisfy the curiosity of mine regarding the birds in the sky that Don real because birds aren't exist"

Marc:"Any doctor worth their weight in styrofoam cups can fix a leg with their feet"

Bolivia:"I had me a silenced weapon, but I didn't account for today being his birthday, this changes everything, so I shaped for hollow point"

Carbon:"Maybe if Steve earlin had a gun instead of a snorklew he'd still be alive today"

Marc:"It took me 30 minutes and 3 phone calls to get my food because I'm too much of a pussy to go outside at 10 o'clock at night while drunk in a Christmas sweater after news year to steal my own food of one my neighbors doorstep"

Maria:"We've got rogue, tank dampse, and squidword"

Lewis;"And they're no joke, but I am, I am the big joke and my body is the punchline"

Bolivia:"I got mentally Nagasaki'd by this guy at the stables"

IDK"And went outside where Victor is unhappy with me, after killing Victor, Victor came out of the lucky 38 to avenge victor" 

Bolivia:" i shot a kid, i sent that little bitch to the moon"

Sushiya,  testing her products:"The door was of its axis, a plate was misbehaving on the chair, a cattle was dancing on the table like the whore she is"

Carbon:"And went shopping for dead bodies, they weren't in stock,  but i know a guy who knows a guy who could help me out, both of those guys are me"

Bolivia:"Now vault yosh is I your head too, and he won't be going anywhere"

Maria's son:"As much of a monster that I look like, I think it's gonna work"

Sushiya:"But you know what they say, imagination is what happens when annoyance meets drug use"

Carbon:"If they're stupid enough to be in my way they might as well be my enemy"

Goverman:"But the slippery bastard was too clever, he walked around it, I didn't even know that such a maneuver was even possible"

IDK"Homeland security at this point has yet to be impregnated by a sentient barrel of oil"

Bolivia:" if I drunkenly put a giant hole on my sink with a goddam coffee cup imagine what I could do with a gun"

Belize:"Got ambushed in the freezer while searching for chicken nuggets"

Goverman:"But the fucken bullet Williams come flying out of fucking nowhere"

Maria:"The next second you're in a universe where everything that exists is the sick bastard child of a drunken fuckfest between a pin screen and a light brush"

Bolivia:"Ask the cashier if they have a granade, if they say no, say nothing for a few seconds, put a big smile, put your hands on theirs and quietly ask, would you like one?"

Sean hampton:"Can't do anything until I have my arms around a fat man"

Barbie:"The premise of this run is that I have no arms and I must dab"

Maria's son:"I told you before that I was a genetic disaster"

Bolivia:"And in that cabin, theres some west Virginian mountain folk who are so deep in incest that one of them somehow managed to be his own father"

Bolivia:"Can you hear that? It's…. It's an air conditioner! And it's so fucking anoying, aw no I hurt it's feelings :( "

Goverman:"He could probably put the end of his musket inside his mouth, pull the trigger and still miss"

Barney one:"The big beaver ended his life in stile, he even made a summersault into the afterlife"

Goverman:"Im a good Christian boy,  I'll save my ammo for my suicide"

Carbon:"I am not Cinderella, I'm a parasite"

IDK"I played with a doggy too, it used the flesh on my arm as a chew toy, and I booked his nose with a nuclear newspaper to show that that kind of thing isn't allowed in the mitten squad household"

Sean hampton:"The crusable is a magical weapon like divorce papers, capable of tearing everything it comes across in half"

Barbie:"The curse of grandma sparkle managed to reach me all the way in hell"

Barney one:"If you are gonna get a cat, you might get a gun aswell"

Belize:"Corn on the Joe sat back not helping his brother's"

Carbon:"I bought 24 regular bullets,28 hollow points, and 60 that need to wear a helmet"

Bolivia:"After the squad died I had to content with the leftovers, the scraps, statically speaking the majority of what remained"

Lewis:"What I need to face is like a toddler with a learning disability, that would be fair"

Carbon:"I took both left eyes of this dead guy "

Carbon:"It took longer to pull out the Esther than it took of kill the general"

Sushiya, while high:"Deeper inside shit got weird, i killed a giant skeleton right? Nothing weird about that, but then his body just kinda danced in place really slowly, I tought speeding up time would fix it, that was a massive fucking mistake, and changing time back to normal was an even bigger mistake, he'll be hunting me until I die, but until then he'll still be dancing"

CAPTAINSAUCE SEGMENT 

Carbon:"They're old, how hard can it be to turn them into blueberry jam and ram them into the grass"

Belize:"I guess if you do electrocute a tank enough it would just explode"

Boliviz:"Id have a better chance of finding a snowball down here than winning a coin toss"

Marc:"How does my Christmas lights break to a stiff breeze but these ones are practically terminators"

Barney one:"I never tought id see the day where I would have to hire a sniper to assassinate a troublesome light bulb but here we are "

Lewis:"I get the feeling if you try to milk a minotaur then you're gonna be its wife"

Sushiya:"In the history of mankind do you think we've ever seen a snake fight an octopus?"

Goverman:"Lets see if you can wobble your way trough the grim reaper" [the grim being carbon]

Goldbob:"Its a steaming pile of something ill tell you that much"

Goverman:"He died? How! Did he have an allergic reaction to the sun?"

Goomb:"Michelangelo is Swiss cheese and where good to go"

Bolivia:"It really looks like I'm taking a sharpened stick to a bazooka fight"

Maria:"HOW DID I GO FROM FIGHTING AN OCTOPUS IN A SUIT TO WW3???"

Princess of peaches, talking about 1TEC-20:"Im playing pictionary with a blind robot"

maria:"Theres on the nose dialogue and then there's punch you in the nose dialogue"

Bolivia,  talking about barney one:"This lady looks like her father was half refrigerator"

IDK"Im supposed to sabotage the mail missile assembly line but it looks like someone got here before me"

Belize?:"And the ghosts of previously murdered pianos???"

Maria:"Im getting outsmarted by puppets"

Bolivia:"After careful deliberation with my associate we've come to the conclusion that the local government must have Removed all quarters from circulation,  the laundromat went under and before you know it the entire society fell into nudism and then anarchy "

Carbon?:"This is like the hunger games of sesame street"

IDK"Im a weird shotgun santa"

Garlic?:"Oh damm! CTHULO IS THICC"

Krump:"What kind of interdimensional time traveling toilet is this?"

Carbon:"Wheater it be cultural appropriation or demonic abomination,  i don't realy care im just gonna try to hit it with a pee bucket" 

Carbon:"THIS IS THE MEDIEVAL RUSSIAN VERSION OF DRIVING INTO BATTLE WITH A TANK BUT SHOOT PEOPLE WITH A BB GUN"

Belize::"I DIDN'T KNOW GRANNY WAS TAKING GRAVEDIGGER TO CHURCH THIS MORNING" 

Goombell:"This isn't a bridge its just the worlds weakest motorcycle trebuchet "

Bolivia:"Oh hellow mr berry"

Carbon:"Giant alien space worm 2020, make America worm poop again"

Bolivia:"When did snuffy[barney one] decide to judas me and join the hobbits?[origamis]"

Lewis:"Theres a surprisingly high amount of chickens in this map and a dramatic lack of eggs"

Bolivia:"Im pretty sure we've sent the first claim to the moon"

Maria:"And yet I'm forced to defend myself from stuff like bloodthirsty scp's using nothing but uncooked t-bone stake, I mean technically its doable but it doesn't make It any less ridiculous"

Barbie:"What's the point of a metal detector if literally everyone here has somekind of cybernetic, like I swear to God If I walk trough here aND you guys start pounding the shit out of me just because I got a couple of extra inches of robo-dong IM GONNA BE PISSED"

Bolivia:"Everyone's wearing slick black suits meanwhile I look like somebody skinned a couch from the 70s"

Sushiya:"Is this bacon flavored weed or weed flavored bacon?"

Sean hampton:"Do you think that Darth Vader ever had to deal with a rebel or a henchmen who was into getting chocked? Like starts force checking them and they tell him to go harder?"

Koopley:"I was stabbed to death by a naked man with a spear and my arm is perpetually running"

Koop kotu:"So I'm crazy enough to be locked behind bars but not crazy enough to think I can fly*

Bolivia:"Usually spooders have 8 arms not 8 abs"

Carbon:"I just bludgeoned Jesus to death with a stick of meat, I'm guessing he's gonna be back in a couple of days he's gonna be looking for me so we'll start running now"

Carbon:"Im done with words, shooty goody time"

Maria?:"Id have a better time cutting down bushes then these strange little robo hobits"

Belize:"Dad this is not the time to be dancing with crabs!"

Maria:"Thats my little brother, who has a fully posable deny devito action figure,I've always been jealous of that one"

Bolivia:"The turns are tabbleling"

Maria, talking about barbie:"She's not exactly the brightest tool at the picnic"

Belize:"Are you kidding me mom? Realy?, you were the one that said you're sick of seeing donkey kongs donkey dong"

Maria:"I have no idea what was in that Wonster energy drink that made him go master roshe style"

Bolivia:"I want to file a complaint against Stacy [belize] for T-posing to assert Dominance over me"

Marc:"Believe it or not dangling a padlock the size of a shoebox from a doorknob does as much work as I want to"

Caesar reality:"You can never have too many rotten floor bananas"

Carbon:"Poisoning your boss is probably not the best way to skip work, but ya boy gotta do what he has to do"

Goverman:"I'll take nicknames of my penis for 300$ alex"

Starvinden?:"I guess we'll just leave you in your special sarcophagus mr tutan-deez-nuts"[browser]

Lewis:"I've been skipping work for 2 weeks now and I'm starting to think that my computer isn't even plugged in"

Bolivia, talking to maria:"Your suit smells like a wet fart and your mouth smells like a ashtray"

Bolivia:"If anyone needs me I'll be on the insane asylum,  why am I caressing a mannequin on top of a boat?"

Carbon:"Would you like to hang yourself or be crucified? Dealers choice!"

Bolivia talking about carbon:"He's doing something ingenious probably diabolical……..or he's dressed as a panda"

Marc:"We should really pay for security around here not only are people breaking in there is also a giant spine breaking chickens"

Maria to Bolivia:"You are very angry at that stake"

Sushiya, after using its products:"I wonder why was I twerking at the office statue"

IDK"WHY IS THERE A GIANT NAKED MAN IN THE LOCKER CHOCKING ME TO DEATH WITH A CHAIN??!!!"

goombell:"I guess we're gonna leave the cookie monster dildo in the locker"

Sean hampton, to Maria:"My love for you is like diarrhea, sometimes I just can't hold it in"

Bolivia:"You're watching me In a Google video platform playing a game from a Google gaming platform that was translated using Google translate, if this isn't a dystopian future I don't know what is"

Bolivia?:"I couldn't have predicted the run after her like a velociraptor made out of pool noodles"

Lewis:"Jumping Jack neighbor help me!"

Bolivia:"Bread! There's no bread,there's your bread! That's a cookie God dammit"

Belize:"So I can be invited to the worlds saddest birthday party"

Maria:"I guess we're playing ring around the Rosie till I lose his dumb ass"

Carbon:"If you see jehovah's witness you tell them to eat shit"

Bolivia:"HOW CAN YOU AFFORD A GUARD BIRD AND NOT A DOOR STOP?"

Bolivia::"For my shopping list I need to find a floppy disk with a s, but for the distraction I could use a floppy dick with sunglasses and a tie"

Carbon:"I really hoped that your little bird bath had a couple inches of water so I could steal a tiny toaster to throw it in with you"

Belize::"Its pretty safe to say Mr voice bad Benjamin good, but we just saw Benjamin talk with the grim reaper and pull around a cart wich is about the size of a child's body"

Goombell:"She may have a crush on the interdimensional death fox"

Maria:"Its like the herpes of craft supplies"

Barney one:"Everyone wants to split checks for keano Reaves, even if they're a 10ft dragon made out of logos and seizures what is going on right now?"

Sushiya, high, again:"When I dilapidated the banana and poked the mayo's brain then had an indept conversation with the strawberry cocoon did bread get arrested? I didn't see the police come by, that would make sense because the alcoholic cat ran away"

Carbon:"IF THEY HAVE AN ASS TO PULL PUNS OUT OF THEY HAVE TO HAVE A BRAIN TO THINK THEM UP"

Goombell:"I think I graduated for the university of food torture"

Well, this is all, took some time but it's here, hope you enjoyed

Frequent reblogers

<《{[(@boom-fanfic-a-latta )]}》>

<《{[( @gumdorp )]}》>

PLEASE REBLOG!

[justablobfish]

Finding a present for that person that is impossible to find a present for

Day 13 of my Advent Calender. A new drabble or oneshot everyday until Christmas, following the Continent’s favourite found family and what they’re up to in the winter season. Based on this prompt list

Read on AO3

Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

______

It's going to be Jaskier’s second time visiting Kaer Morhen. 

Two years ago, Geralt had asked him only a few days before they were scheduled to separate for the winter. It had all been rather sudden and the whole season had passed in a blur of anxiety and excitement.

He hadn't even met the whole family then, Geralt's little brother Lambert hadn't made it to the keep that year. Then, the year after, Jaskier got delayed by his family until he couldn't make it to the keep anymore; the path had already snowed over. 

This year though - this year Jaskier is determined to make the most of his time at Kaer Morhen and charm his way into the hearts of Geralt's family until they can't imagine winter without him anymore. 

Step one is to make a good first impression after the Wolves haven't seen him in so long. And the easiest way to do that is to get the perfect welcome gift for everyone scheduled to be there. 

He comes across the first gift mere weeks after the snow of the previous winter has melted. After the tedious experience with his parents he decides to spend some time in Oxenfurt to recuperate. 

In his favorite dingy little bookstore he finds the perfect present for Eskel. 

Yes, yes, a steamy romance novel might not necessarily be the best way to prove himself to his lover's family, but the cover of the book shows your usual handsome warrior with very revealing clothing clutching a swooning damsel in distress in his overly muscular arms. Except this protagonist is drawn with an enormous scar covering the left side of his face. 

He's extremely handsome. So is Eskel, of course, but whenever Jaskier tells him as much he just dismisses the compliment. With this book though, Eskel will have to believe him that scars are seen as attractive by quite a number of people. Why else would they draw the cover like this? 

His second gift he also finds in a bookstore, though this place couldn't possibly be more different than where he found the book for Eskel. 

The "Ye Olde Books" in Toussaint sells only the most esteemed antiquities to rich noblemen who never intend to read them and only display them to prove their supposedly good taste and to exaggerate their riches. 

Jaskier quickly determines the oldest book the store has on offer. It's still younger than the recipient of the gift, of course, but the fairy tale stories it holds should still be similar enough to the stories that must have been popular when Vesemir was a child. 

After the events of the last winter Jaskier at least managed to guilt trip his parents enough that he has no trouble paying for the delicate tome. 

As for Lambert, Jaskier didn't meet him the one year he spent at Kaer Morhen, but he and Geralt ran into the younger Witcher on the Path once. It was a brief encounter and Lambert didn't seem to particularly like Jaskier. 

Geralt reassured him afterwards that it's nothing personal and that Lambert doesn't like anyone. 

Even though they couldn't possibly be more different, Lambert somewhat reminded Jaskier of himself. Jaskier is happy with his place in the world now, but he had to carve it out for himself, which hadn't always been easy. He remembers a time when he, too, felt trapped in the life he was born into, never good enough to satisfy his parents or to become a person in his own right, not just the heir to a legacy he wanted nothing to do with. 

So the bitterness Lambert carries around with him feels very familiar. 

His third gift, therefore, is just as expensive as Vesemir's and on top of that requires a large amount of convincing to work out. Luckily, Jaskier has practice annoying someone enough until they agree to anything. He spent most of his life perfecting the skill with the involuntary help of his lover.

By the time winter comes around again, the specially commissioned Gwent card will have started distribution. Though of course Jaskier will carry a copy of the new Lambert hero card with him as well and present it to Geralt's younger brother. He's made sure it would be stronger than the White Wolf card that became popular in recent years. 

Ciri's gift is easy enough. Jaskier simply buys the biggest, fluffiest teddy bear he can find. Ciri is going to roll her eyes at him and claim that she isn't a kid anymore, but that's exactly what makes it the perfect present. With all that destiny business, the kid forgets far too often to allow herself to be a child sometimes. 

How to get this monstrous thing, which is nearly as tall as Jaskier, back to Kaer Morhen is an entirely different story, though… 

The gift for Yennefer isn't hard to find either once he meets up with Geralt and travels with him again. In a run-down little general store in a village in the middle of nowhere, in the furthest corner of the shop, hidden under a fishing net and a set of gardening tools, lies the most atrocious knitted sweater Jaskier has ever seen. There's no reason to abandon old traditions, even if he and Yennefer don’t meet up at Oxenfurt anymore. And in case Yennefer doesn't attend Kaer Morhen this winter, he'll simply keep it around until the next time they meet. The knitwear is so incredibly ugly, it would be a shame to waste it. 

Geralt informs him one day that Lambert will bring a plus one. Not a boyfriend or close friend or anything, just a superficial acquaintance. The fact that Lambert risked his own hide to save the man's life is - apparently - entirely coincidental and without meaning. It's just that this other Witcher of the Cat school has no other place to spend the winter. Nothing more. 

Geralt calls his little brother an emotionally constipated idiot and Jaskier can't help but burst out laughing at the hypocrisy. 

Jaskier isn't sure whether to get this Aiden a gift as well since he never met the man, but as so often in his life, fate takes matters into its own hands. 

He's perusing his favorite clothes store in Vizima when he finds the most beautiful scarf. It's big and woolen and perfectly flashy. Every handspan or so the pattern and colours change completely. All in all it shows every colour of the rainbow. 

That is not the gift for Aiden, of course. But it's going to look great on Jaskier, especially since Geralt still insists he wears that old grey winter cloak. Granted, the cloak is warm, but oh so boring looking. The scarf will be just the right accessory to add a bit of color to his winter wardrobe. 

The gift for Aiden he comes across as he leaves the store. A little boy, who must be the owner's son, sits at the side of the road and busies himself with thread and needle. 

Curious, Jaskier steps closer and finds that the boy is attaching pieces of felt to a simple hairband. 

Once the kid is done he puts the headband on and the felt pieces stand up in such a way that it appears like the boy has kitten ears growing out of his head. 

Jaskier considers for a moment but then decides that if this Aiden is voluntarily hanging out with Lambert, he must have a good sense of humor. He buys the headband off the boy and heads back to his and Geralt's inn room. 

Maybe it's because he's traveling with Geralt and can't really go looking for a gift for the White Wolf, but by the time their departure for Kaer Morhen rolls around, Jaskier has a little something for everyone, except Geralt. He doesn't even have an idea what he could gift to the man. Anything practical like a new whetstone, better armor or a fancy dagger is something that Geralt is far better equipped to pick out himself. Jaskier has little knowledge about such things. 

And while Jaskier has spent the last twenty years of his life convincing the big oaf that he deserves pretty things every once in a while, too, Jaskier can't think of anything that wouldn't just be in the way when they eventually set out on the Path again. 

The end of autumn creeps closer and closer and Jaskier’s head stubbornly remains empty. It shouldn't be this hard to think of something that Geralt would enjoy. After all, Jaskier has known him for over two decades now. But it seems like everything he could get his favorite Witcher he has already gotten him at some point during their travels. 

He still has no idea when they pass the last village on the way to the Witchers’ keep. 

Or when they start making their way up the mountain path. 

Maybe there's a pretty rock he can pick up? 

What? No, that's a dumb idea. He's not just gonna pick up a random rock just because he's desperate. At this point he'll just have to accept the fact that he has no gift for Geralt.

They reach the keep after two days of tedious climbing - not something Jaskier missed from his last visit - and are greeted at the gates by the other Witchers. Geralt's family members each welcome Geralt with a short hug and a pat on the back, while another man, who must be Lambert's tagalong, awkwardly stands to the side. Vesemir and Eskel nod at Jaskier courtly, Lambert only grunts at him. 

Jaskier makes eye contact with Aiden who rolls his eyes at him apologetically over Lambert's behaviour. 

Then Geralt brings Roach to the stables and they all quickly make their way inside. 

In the large dining hall they meet Yennefer and Ciri. Apparently they only came here a day earlier via portal, making Jaskier and Geralt the last to arrive. 

"I have welcoming gifts!" Jaskier addresses everyone. 

Eskel reacts to his present with eyes narrowed in confusion. Then they grow wide with realisation and wonder. 

Lambert scoffs when Jaskier hands him his parcel. He doesn't scoff again after he unpacks it. 

Aiden grins at him widely and immediately puts his gift on. 

Vesemir simply hums appreciatively. It reminds Jaskier far too much of Geralt. He supposes the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. 

Ciri, as expected, reacts with a pout and the declaration that she's not a child anymore. Still, she clutches the plushy to her chest and refuses to let it go when Aiden says he'll take it if she doesn't like it. 

Yennefer snarls at her sweater and quickly turns away from the group to hide it, but just like Ciri does with the teddy bear, she clutches it to her chest protectively. 

Which only leaves Geralt. 

"I, uh…, " Jaskier stutters and stares at his empty hands. 

"Hmm," Geralt hums. "Saving the best for last?" 

He grabs Jaskier by the shoulder, turns him around so that he's facing the room. He hugs Jaskier from behind and places his chin on Jaskier’s shoulder. 

"Seems like you got me the best gift of all," Geralt hums. "Look!" 

Confused, Jaskier glances about the room. Vesemir and Eskel are sitting in a corner, flipping through their respective books. Lambert is chasing Aiden through the room, who has stolen his Gwent card and is waving it around tauntingly. Ciri holds the teddy out to Yennefer, who's holding her sweater to the bear's chest to see if it would fit him. There's nothing out of the ordinary that Jaskier can spot. 

"I don't under-" he begins. 

"Everyone's here," Geralt explains. "My whole family in one place for the very first time. I couldn't possibly ask for more." 

[blankdblank]

Ash Pt 7

*

“Oh,” escaped your lips in a near collision with Celebrimbor’s chest that had you flash him a quick grin and say, “Sorry, lost to my thoughts.”

“Not a trouble at all, Your Highness.” However his eyes sank to the new chain around your neck that had his lips part to the obvious antler pendant that was a twin to his old friend’s he wore around his own neck. “Might I ask, Your Highness, where did you get that necklace?”

“Um, well, I don’t really remember. Just always sort of had it that I can recall. Apparently according to the chest it opens it means Thranduil is, well, that I’m, his One?” you asked through an awkward flash of a grin on how to word it right. “At least that is the term he used in explaining it to me. Everyone has one, a One? I don’t fully understand how to say it properly, among other things.”

Sloppily his smile had been spreading to your fumbled try to be calm and accepting about this new development in this monumental find for the once so hopeless King now set for a brilliantly bright and cozy future with such a kind considerate One to scare off his sorrows and miseries. “You have expressed it plainly and without fault. I congratulate you on this discovery. Truly now that this is discovered it may aid in planting roots here amongst our kin had you any doubts on comfort here.”

You nodded at a loss for what else to do and then asked in a glance at his fishtail braid draped partly across his chest in a slump from his shoulder thanks to the large bow on his back. “Would I be allowed to braid my hair back tonight? Last night everyone seemed to have theirs loose, and mine can be a bit hard to keep managed it seems while dancing, and drinking.”

“Wear your hair how you wish, Queen Jaqiearae, however you find comfort and ease. Shall you wish for one of our best amongst Ladies Maids who might assist you with a style of our culture to try something new?”

“That, doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Wouldn’t want to walk in with a bad braid to pair with the gowns and crown Thranduil and the Seamstresses designed for me.”

Promptly he nodded and stated, “I will send word at once and they should be at your dwelling promptly,” and in the click of the end of his bow to his quiver he was off and you turned to see him round the corner.

Softly saying, “Thank you,”

And true to his word the Master Smith was off to inquire about a hairdresser for you of the best they had to offer while on his larger plan to spread the news as rapidly and as far as he possibly could before the celebration would kick off adding another layer of elation to the occasion. By the time you had exited your quick bath in a plushy robe around your towel the pair of Elleths had arrived and with a joint cautious curtsy asked permission to get started and together they guided you to a stool and once you’d removed your hair from its wrap to keep it dry during the bath they got to weaving it into a regal style that would suit your look and not trouble the swan crown that again you would be wearing.

 *

“What is this I hear of your informing the kitchen staff of the opening of King Thranduil’s trunk of Ones he was gifted?” Glorfindel asked with chest puffed out in a means to try and diffuse this situation he had no inkling on how the Smith had discovered this without listening through the apartment doors to their conversation with the King.

Celebrimbor’s wide smile returned in taking notice of his friend’s clear internal knowledge of this fact, “Queen Jaqiearae herself shared the news with myself on her way to prepare and I am returned from passing on her request for aid with her hair for tonight.”

Glorfindel raised a brow, “She wished to look special?”

“There was an inquiry on if a braid would be socially acceptable for this occasion. I am not aware of what style she might have been intending to try however I suggested our stylists might aid in help for a style from our culture.”

Glorfindel, “And you took it upon yourself to share the news?”

“Yes,” the Smith responded plainly. “Why? Upset that I spoiled your own plans?”

Glorfindel sighed and said, “I have to ready for tonight.”

Celebrimbor simply smiled wider and followed him asking, “And just what do you have planned for tonight?”

“I cannot share my plan.”

“Ooh, now I am doubly interested.”

“Contain your interest these are sensitive matters and if the Queen has informed you herself then I shall allow this to pass.”

“Mhmm, I will follow up on this.”

“If I am successful I will have some news sharing of my own.”

 *

Pink, again backless with straps zig zagging across the back of the strapless gown that from the hip down was heavily ruffled that to an extent spurred an urge to twirl and send the wild ruffles about your legs hugged you to perfection leaving you without far of a single shift or slip. To go with the additional strand of alternating glowing round lasgalen stones and yellow sapphires to fill the gap between the lone strand and the chain with your key necklace that somehow felt wrong to remove before morning the swan crown you were given sat securely on top of the lovely braid the duo had helped to wrangle your stubborn curls into. Now past your hips that star speckled ebony curls hung in the braid that was wound up with lengths of ribbon and jeweled clips and pins topped with shimmering feathers.

Again entrance to the grand entrance hall where the stream of the celebration would begin left you frozen on the other side of it. Deeply a breath flooded into your lungs and gave you the strength to press onwards and take those steps to enter. Again the announcement of the title came and with it more smiles and stares than before that you didn’t expect and in glances to the new addition to your neckline the reasoning became clear. It seemed the news was out and to the assigned seat beside the light red robe clad King you moved through the crowd to claim it when it was moved back for that purpose. Compliments were traded once both King and Queen had taken their seats and Lord Celeborn headed the speech for tonight, after which a timid sip of wine was taken.

But dancing again though found a second glass downed and smiles out again with King who slipped for yet another dance between pre chosen dance partners for both. The light of the stars however in a pass between dance floors focus was lost until a voice drew you back to the present. Lord Glorfindel who smiled as he asked, “Would you care for another drink, Queen Jaqiearae?”

When your eyes met his a simple shake of your head was his first response, “No, thank you I am attempting to limit myself until I am more accustomed to wine.”

“There is more to offer besides wine, should you wish it.”

“Thank you all the same.”

“I take it your last night must have been weighty to cast such limits on the second. How might I ease your concerns, please do share what has troubled you, truly there is not much that could have occurred the night prior one of us in our youth has not faced in becoming accustomed to our vast supply of wines.”

Clearly he could spot the hint of reluctance and mask of a smile that had him more certain than ever your words were a farce. “I seem to have lost a break from the dance floor to a goodnight escort from the King.”

“Most often those blanks that even I have encountered will fill in, do not feel such weighty rules are required. No judgments will be made your friends are here to watch over you and ensure safe return to your rooms each night.”

“That is very kind of you, however, I cannot risk repaying all your kindnesses by ending up a fool in front of my new friends.”

“You will never be a fool and never have been or ever will be. What do you remember?”

“If anyone was to remember the gap King Thranduil might, and he has made it clear he doesn’t.” That had the Lord smirk in the turn of your head to the arrival of the Elf who had requested your next dance who you nodded your head to and then said to Lord Glorfindel, “For now, if you’ll excuse me, time to bound.”

While you were off to the dance floor on his heels he turned to find Thranduil in his own dance. Right up behind the King in timed back steps between the couples he strode light on his feet while he leaned in to lowly state in Doriathian that only he would know after a check of who was around him to know which dialect to use for optimum secrecy. “The impression of ignorance you gave was too convincing.”

Over his shoulder Thranduil glanced at the Lord asking, “Would that not be the intention of feigning ignorance in the first place?” Continuing to dance while the Lord moved along to avoid an overlap of paths between couples before the lift that followed with a chance for him to come back to the King’s back right after.

“Not when the Queen in question was in wait for word that the King in question recalled said events to act upon them again and is now rationing wine to avoid a second instance where she may yet be rejected a second time.”

“Re-,” wide eyed in a frustrated huff the King glared at his friend then turned with forced softer expression to his partner in the lift.

“Toss a hint,” Glorfindel added then slipped away to leave the King in a whirl of a dance both physically and mentally.

.

Dances and a few more glasses of wine led to another escort to your apartment door. “Hint,” the word echoed in the King’s head all through the night and into the morning from his breakfast to the stroll in search of the Queen in question. Upon being found in transit from a stroll to view the lingering colors in the sky over the dew cast pastures by the stables his hand like silk eased itself around the bared wrist closes to him. In a pivot your head turned and the tension in that wrist relaxed to the known sudden captor with a deeply king gaze to the request of, “I am required for a few tasks, however, would an hour past noonday be acceptable a meeting time for our meeting to approach our clock again?”

The look would have been enough in the hint of a tilt to his head in a means of a try to plead silent on top of the request, like a giant fox cub who was trying to use its adorable face to its own advantage. And up you gazed at the King who had given a bat of his lashes around those eyes that you now realized where you had just seen the color after having since that first meeting had been in search of, sunlit dewdrops. The moment of speechlessness almost had him drop the hold directly. Yet the prickle of a blush that crawled across your cheeks held his hand in place to hear, “Yes. That would be a fine meeting time.”

Promptly he nodded and the firm hold his hand had taken went slack. From the wrist his palm and finger shifted through a glide of fingertips along your palm they traveled under to the pat of his free hand on top of the back of your captured hand. Terribly formal this was not a casual farewell gesture and if there could be any means of mistaking the meaning of the act as anything that could pass between someone who intended to just be a friend onto the back of the knuckles upon their lift he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss. Again the palm on top placed to coat the back of the captured hand that in his retraction step was released to a feel the same as water run off of skin, suddenly gone but the warmth of its contact still lingering. “I shall not hinder your amusement, and await our time together.”

Long as possible those eyes were locked on yours still on him through and after the responding nod until to his body’s full turn away they left you to turn stoic again with just a means to soften once they fell upon you again. ‘Success’ had been murmured inside his head to the unmistakable gesture of a hint. Kiss for a kiss to hint a clue familiarity of contact was welcome. Yet alone nothing but crickets sounded in the ears of the stunned Queen whose released hand sunk to curl and be coated by its twin in front of your belly.

“Your Highness?” The voice itself would have made you jump as you had nearly onto the steps to your right you had just entered from that called the hand of the sudden arrived Lord Celeborn that held you from a surely painful tumble down to the wet earth of the pasture you had been captured leaving. “Forgive my startling you,” he added to the resettle of feet underneath both shoulders in shocked means to find stability again. “Are you distressed? There was a puzzling expression on your face.”

“No,” you said in a sharp shake of your head for a terrible try to feign calm for the Lord peering down at you with his halfway slumbering middle child draped across his shoulders and head on their way to an early ride on their pony his other hand kept upright and from a fall to the sway of feet down his chest. “Just, distracted in thought. Excuse me, I won’t keep you.” His head gave a subtle nod to yours in a move to have the child again flinch upright like it hadn’t nodded off again to see your path down the hall opposite where the King had gone in his released anchor of a hand’s drop to his side again.

“Come now, my guiding wind, to the stables.” He hummed to the child in a mental note to discover the dilemma later by means of questioning his friends for the latest whispers about the King and Queen to form a fuller question until the former could be questioned in detail.

.

Public breakfast followed by a fitting for more gowns that were completed and just in time for the assigned meeting for the next session on the clock you were outside the elk etched doors to the King’s apartment. Hastily with a flick of your tongue across your lower lip your hand rose to curl up and give the left door a pair of knocks. The door did open after what seemed to be a clear sign that no one was home. However it merely opened a crack and curiously your head tilted only to see an Elleth with a bucket of supplies for the fires she had been tending that nearly swung into you in its slide around the door who gave you a quick nod of her head and stepped aside stating, “My apologies, Your Highness, I did not expect anyone on the other side of the door.”

“I, did knock, maybe not loud enough?”

“These doors are of enchanted wood, normally we crack doors open to knock when required. Or if you were to feel uncomfortable opening the door there are the drawstrings to announce yourself.” She said with a glance up that brought the loop on a woven chain that went through a small opening in the stained glass mural above the doors attached to the bell mounted on the inside of the doorframe identical to yours that you somehow hadn’t realized how to use the feature for other people’s apartments.

“Oh, thank you for telling me. Should have noticed that…” To her ease through the opening beside you on your step in uncertain of what else to say you turned to take hold of the door that from the corner of her eye she caught the timid ease of the door shut again. Uncertainty as to if you were alone here or not was broken by the sound of a glass being filled and a deep sigh that had you creep further into the apartment past the empty rooms to the doorway of the same sitting room that sat open revealing the King who in a nudge of his glass he had just set down the fingers of his other hand tapped the back of his chair. From the clear tries to distract himself Thranduil’s head turned with wide eyes and brows lifted to the timid knock you gave to the open door.

“Ah, I poured us some juice, are you thirsty? I presume your fitting ran late.”

“Thank you, for the juice. No, I did knock, I didn’t know about the bell and the muffling wood enchantment.” You accented with a point to the front door.

“I apologize, I must have forgotten include that note in the tour.”

You shook your head and said, “I’ve seen the bell at my door, it just never clicked in my head somehow.”

Just a moment he looked you over taking in the latest outfit he’d yet to see then his body flinched to ease your chair out that you crossed the room to settle into. “Fortunately you were only left waiting a few minutes and we have ample time to work before the lunch my latest undercook is preparing for us to fuel the rest of our time until the clock decides we are meant to stop again.” Your eyes were already on him when he settled into his own chair beside yours and looked to you to suggest, “Afterwards I was curious if you wished to go for a ride through one of our more scenic pathways to show you a bit more than just the palace.”

“Ride, ride how?”

“My Elk Tuo agreed to carry the both of us, if you are not open to that we may always take a ride later when you are willing.”

“As long as it won’t be fast, last animal I rode on was a sheep when I was little and that was entirely accidental.”

That had him grin to himself imagining that fumble and ways to have landed you wide eyed latched onto the back of a sheep for a slew of adorable imaginings of a tiny awkward and mishap prone you until the day of the bartering that inevitably landed you here. “I assure you Tuo will not push your comfort level and has given rides to Estel even and several young fauntlings, or Hobbit youth, while we stay in Lothlorien quite often, there is no doubts on my part for his gentle nature for timid riders on their first try.”

To a nod you said, “Sure, I’ve seen a few maps here and it seems a bit like the Palace is where everything is centered and there is just trees left to the animals around it at least to my view.”

“Precisely the reason to begin a few tours of the forest to acquaint you with the full workings of this kingdom to make you feel more at home. We will even cross one of our guard points that tomorrow if you wish we could arrange a treetop tour of that post watch platform if you wished.”

“Platform, you have guards in the trees? What if they fall?”

Grinning at you he said, “Centuries of training and several safety measures. Each branch is no less than ten yards across. And our trees give warning before they stretch or rearrange their branches to any within their hold.”

After a pause and confusingly blank face his brow rose then dropped to your saying, “Maybe, that would probably be the last thing I do to get used to being here.”

Softly he chuckled to himself and nodded, “Understood, and will not trouble any of our other tours there is ample to show you yet. We have barely scratched the surface, why even our far northern villages would be open to a tour, they have quite lovely ground level markets and guest areas amongst their tree top dwellings reserved for just their approved citizens, though of course should you master your tentative reluctance to climb our miles of staircases you would be granted a tour of their finest hidden gathering areas.”

“Because you would be bringing me?” You asked.

And he shook his head, “Not at all. Our forest has been whispering about its new Queen, quite favorably and they would welcome anyone who is seen favorably in unanimity of our trees who house and protect us and our loved ones.”

“Oh,” that had you nod again and in the sink of your eyes to his bent arm half rested on the table and the arm of his chair his head tilted in concern for what he might have said to upset you.

“Jaqiearae, what have I said?”

Again your eyes rose and after an open and close of your mouth you drew in a courage bolstering breath and asked, “When Estel got here, you had on armor.” To that he gave a nod and you asked, “What exactly would you need protection from?”

“Ah,” that had his hand move to shift and lay over the back of yours on the arm of your chair and he shared a bit on the warping of captured creatures into Goblins, Orcs and even Trolls that paired up with Wargs on occasion and to calm what he felt to be a justified raised pulse he added, “Rarely do we face attacks. Merely the pathways from Rivendell through the mountains have been uncertain as of late thanks to the shift of control of certain territories that Men have lost and been in a means to regain that require extra security for transport of travelers and goods.”

“And you’re, a good fighter? Certain people the King has to be the best, others the King is not put in danger, by my reading.”

“I am amongst our best warriors. Those who have fought in the Kinslayings do outrank me in skill by the spare centuries of war waging, but for those who fought beside me in the Wars of Wrath we are vastly higher in skill than those who were not alive in that age. I would not carelessly wage war or endanger myself or our people, ever. Rarely I join on guard but merely to remain present amongst any issues those on patrol might face.” His eyes scanned over your face in the nod and forced grin you gave him. “I promise you risking another loss in your life or that of my son’s will never be a welcome notion. I will avoid it at all costs. Have you learned any means of defense as a child?”

“Um, my cousin taught me how to use a slingshot and tried to show me how to be his sparring partner.”

“You learned how to spar?” he asked with brows risen.

“No, I held the sheet filled bag he punched and kicked, he taught me how to duck and weave to amp up the difficulty for him. So, fairly useless outside of magic.”

“You will never be useless. Duck and weave is quite an admirable foundation to begin with. Should you wish to revisit and expand upon those lessons we would be beyond welcome to assistance for those lessons. If anything to simply make you feel more at ease with a means to defend yourself if necessary.”

“Maybe after the feast. Hate to spoil the gown designs by showing off the bruises I no doubt will be receiving.”

“No one will bruise you, not one.”

“I jumped over a log tripped and hit my head on a root, no one has to bruise me at all I am quite adept at it on my own. Tuo can confirm.”

After a hinted playful gaze and huff he said, “Whenever you are prepared we shall arrange lessons for you.”

From the selection what seemed to be the base of the clock you continued to work the pieces in that stack together while from the head of the Elk Thranduil worked his way down. Around the legs of the clock rocks, interwoven roots and leaves came together, all in separate clumps that fixed together to overlap. “There is a second head…” Thranduil mumbled and lured your focus from your own pile to see the second head between his fingers.

“Well then there’s either two elk or there’s two headed Elk on the clock,” you teased and he chuckled and looked down to shift his fingers through the pieces to find the next one he needed. To the snap of another leaf to the root section you had just completed you asked blindly, “So, is there any other steps after the clock that we have to cheat death on?”

Aloofly you had asked and through a smirk he replied in an amused hum, “None such as the trunk. Each pair face their own tasks in realization as to their path ahead, however the trunk is the lone requirement by the Valar for Ones to complete together. I do believe we are making admirable bounds in completing each stack at this pace.” His eyes again shifted to scan over your puzzling expression. “Was it a hope of yours to have another task?”

“Just interesting, one person from the pair gets the chest.”

The underplayed hint of jealousy had him smirk and then hum, “Feel free to invent a challenge of your own for us to complete or a task you wish for me to undertake on my own to make up the slight to your side of the bond.”

“Careful, you may regret that offer not knowing what I might come up with.”

“I highly doubt I could ever regret a notion born of your imagination.” He said with a lingering smile laced gaze that you held still absolutely confused as to what this bond between you now meant and if that was why he had kissed your hand earlier or if he had remembered the night when you had kissed him and now felt with the bond he was forced to. Gently however the move of his free hand over yours lying on the table snapped that train of thought to a halt, “Choose whatever your heart wills and I will do my best to not disappoint.”

A cleared throat from the doorway however had your heads turn and his hand to retract for a sting until the motion was used to answer the cook’s announcement that the meal was ready. Up he stood and moved to help you out of your chair with hand offered again once yours were free to guide you to the table that had a hearty lunch to fuel the rest of your day until the feast would begin.

Pt 8

@devilishminx328, @fandomsstolemylife00​, @lilith15000

[tabloidtoc]

Globe, April 12

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Brad Pitt Blindsided by Abuse Bombshell

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- former Vanderpump Rules hunk Jax Taylor hauling trash outside his L.A. home, tennis star Venus Williams had some courtside cuddles with her pet pup in Miami, sitcom star turned pot peddler Jim Belushi during a spin around Santa Monica

Page 3: Chrissy Metz runs errands in L.A., David Hasselhoff with his wife Hayley Roberts in Calabasas, Lena Headey buzzed around in L.A. on an electric bike

Page 4: Toxic TV talker Ellen DeGeneres is trapped in a tragic tailspin, belting back booze while struggling to get a grip on her fading career and rocky marriage -- after losing 1 million viewers this year alone, Ellen's once high-flying show is on thin ice and she's fighting with wife Portia de Rossi amid talks of a $300 million divorce -- her ratings are tanking, and her marriage is coming apart at the seams and she's knocking back the red wine to drown her sorrows -- her strategy is to let the storm about her talk show die down and then pull in some huge guest stars to win back her audience and reestablish herself as top dog on the talk show circuit -- at the same time, her 12-year marriage to Portia has been hanging by a thread and the two had been at loggerheads after serial house-flipper Ellen put the estate she bought from Maroon 5's Adam Levine on the market for $53.5 million and Portia thought it was finally going to be their forever home and it was like pulling the rug out from under her -- then another crisis struck home as Ellen rushed Portia to the hospital after she collapsed and Portia underwent an emergency appendectomy and is now recuperating but her spouse is a mess over Portia's health crisis and she's been drowning her sorrows in booze -- Ellen realizes much more than ever how much she desperately loves Portia and what she's got to lose if they split but she also knows it's be a lot of work to get the relationship back on track once Portia recovers

Page 5: Chevy Chase secretly cheated death after a secret heart condition landed him in the hospital for five long weeks and now he may never be out of the woods -- the 77-year-old, who is now recovering at his Westchester, N.Y. home, recently revealed the heart issue snuck up on him -- Chevy needed valve replacement surgery, and recovering boozer Chevy's long history of swilling alcohol had left him with an enlarged heart and acute cardiomyopathy, a disease that makes it harder for the organ to pump blood to the rest of his body and his heart problems stems from his years of drinking plain and simple and it's affected his heart, weakened it over the years -- however, before risky surgery could be performed, docs needed to make sure the comedian was stable enough for the procedure -- in 2017, Chevy claimed he'd finally gotten sober after one of his daughters said she gave up on him and his wife Jayni threatened to leave him if he didn't clean up his act but it may be too little too late for the comedy legend because valve replacement surgery could affect his activities for the rest of his life and it means his heart was pumping through an ineffective valve, and this damages heart muscles, which never grow back and he could have ongoing chest pains or dangerous heart rhythm disturbances, which could lead to heart attack or death

Page 6: Dr. Dre's estranged wife, Nicole Young, claims the rap mogul knocked her out cold in a drunken rage -- it's the latest bombshell in the couple's brutal divorce war, with Nicole making the explosive charge in an application for a restraining order that was denied by a judge and she also alleges Dre punched her squarely in the face after he felt she disrespected him at a party in 1999 and Nicole claims she woke up in their car with Andre speeding at over 100 miles per hour, drunk and out of control and he was swerving and weaving and she thought she was going to die and she also claims a drunk and angry Dre held a gun to her head during a 2012 dispute, saying she was terrified he was going to kill her -- Dre has denied all of Nicole's abuse claims

* In a desperate bid to save their crumbling romance, Jennifer Lopez and Alex Rodriguez are seeing a sex therapist to spice up their fizzling bedroom romps -- the duo called off their wedding plans after a stormy four-year affair and are on the brink of the end -- A-Rod staved off a break at the last minute by dashing down to the Dominican Republic, where J.Lo's filming her new flick and patching things up for the moment -- the biggest issue has been Alex's roving eye plus sexting various women on the side, and Jennifer wants to get to the bottom of why she's not enough for him

Page 7: Jeopardy! contestants want celeb medic Dr. Mehmet Oz axed as guest host -- casting the dubious doc celebrates the elevation of talking heads at the expense of academic rigor and consensus, according to a group of the game show's former winners and contestants in a letter -- the letter cites instances in which Dr. Oz used his authority as a doctor to push harmful ideas, and referred to a 2014 letter penned by faculty at Columbia Medical School, where Oz also teaches, calling for his removal from the program and the letter concludes inviting Oz to guest host is a slap in the face to all involved

Page 8: Jeffrey Epstein's accused madam Ghislaine Maxwell's third desperate bid to get out of jail on bail has been nixed by a federal judge -- the 59-year-old British socialite it rotting in a Brooklyn, N.Y. federal slammer denying charges she recruited underage girls to be sex slaves for her late lover Epstein, whose 2019 death in his jail cell is suspected on being a staged murder, despite an official ruling of suicide -- Maxwell's offer to plunk down $22.5 million and give up her citizenships in England and France was nixed by Judge Alison Nathan, who agreed with prosecutors the suspected Israeli intelligence asset was still a flight risk -- meanwhile, Ghislaine's lawyers claim she was abused by a guard and is losing hair and weight due to poor treatment in the slammer, where she's awaiting a July trail date

Page 9: Billionaire Queen Elizabeth is bracing for a big pay cut -- due to the financial crash triggered by the COVID pandemic, the Sovereign Grant, the tax money allowance the royals get, is expected to be slashed by more than 25 percent when it comes up for its five-year renewal in 2022 -- last year, Her Highness raked in $114.2 million from taxpayers, but that bundle was exceptional and cannot expect that to be repeated -- a major cost, besides allowances for the royal family, is a renovation of Buckingham Palace, which prices out at $500 million over 10 years -- one saving is Prince Harry and wife Meghan Markle have been stripped of their titles and public paychecks -- Her Majesty is aware of the current financial situation and is happy to play her part in cutting costs

* Prince Harry has landed a job as a hot-shot exec of a firm providing mental health and life counseling but it sounds like the tech start-up company is really using him as a celebrity showhorse -- Harry, who studied art and geography in college, will be Chief Impact Officer for BetterUp Inc, saying he intends to help create impact in people's lives -- BetterUp CEO Alexi Robichaux refused to say how much he's paying the prince, but noted Harry will have a meaningful and meaty role and will attend all employee meetings at the San Francisco headquarters and Robichaux also hinted at Harry's true value, saying he'll be a special guest at company events; in other words, the company will use him as a celebrity draw and they'll lure potential clients and investors to events by saying they can run shoulders with the prince and Harry has no psychology training; he will be a showpiece -- Harry first hooked up with BetterUp by using its app that gives proactive coaching and provides endless possibilities for personal development, increased awareness and an all-around better life and Harry says he was matched with his coach who is truly awesome and has always given him sound advice and a fresh perspective, which is so valuable

Page 10: Lisa Marie Presley is getting back on track after her son Benjamin Keough's tragic suicide and bitter divorce from Michael Lockwood, but she's still a hopeless addict -- Elvis Presley's 53-year-old daughter smokes like a chimney from morning until night and is struggling for every breath and she goes through a pack or two a day minimum and she simply can't quit and she has cut out triggers like booze and coffee, but she still needs her cigarette fix from the moment she wakes up until she puts her head down at night -- she was snapped having a smoke outside a COVID-19 testing center in L.A.'s San Fernando Valley and it was the only time she was spotted in public since her son died in July -- she started smoking at age 15 and has admitted this is the one thing that got her and bit her in the ass that she can't shake even those she's kicked pain pills, cocaine, booze and opioids and she's tried everything she can think of to quit: patches, nicotine gum, going cold turkey, but nothing works and she did stop for a spell after being hypnotized but a day or two later she was lighting up again -- she's losing weight, exercising more and eating healthier, but her smoking habit is the elephant in the room

Page 11: Following the heart-crushing suicide of her brother, Elvis Presley's granddaughter Riley Keough has become a death doula, a counselor who helps terminal patients and their cope with the devastating trauma -- Riley announced she'd completed her training on social media -- the daughter of Lisa Marie Presley and her first husband Danny Keough, Riley was devastated when her brother Benjamin Keough committed suicide with a shotgun last July -- spurred by the tragedy to become a death doula, Riley says she thinks it's so important to be educated on conscious dying and death the way we educate ourselves on birth and conscious birthing

* Reality TV train wreck Mama June Shannon claims she and her boyfriend Geno Doak spent $900,000 in a year to feed their drug addiction and the couple were spending $2500 a day, if not more, on methamphetamine -- June entered rehab with $1.75 in her pocket and they've been clean 14 months

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- reformed boozer Luann de Lesseps sips a soft drink in Mexico (picture), Real World star Rebecca Blasband believes she had an otherwordly 15-year beyond-the-grave relationship with Beatles legend John Lennon's ghost, in Australia a not so itsy bitsy spider bite turned into a giant wallop of a headache for Melissa McCarthy, Ilana Glazer and husband David Rooklin are happily expecting their first baby ironically right before of her horror movie False Positive, Sarah Silverman says no one ever told her not to use tongue in screen kisses and it got her fired from a show called Pride & Joy

Page 13: Al Pacino gets all gussied up in Italy to play fashion godfather Aldo in the biopic House of Gucci (picture), Justine Bateman (picture), Tom Selleck covers up his signature 'stache with a mask in L.A. (picture), first-time mama Katharine McPhee hit a sour note with composer husband David Foster for blabbing their newborn son's name Rennie David Foster on Today

Page 14: Rihanna plunked down $13.8 million for a new Beverly Hills mountaintop mansion that's literally surrounded by noteworthy neighbors like Paul McCartney and Mariah Carey and Madonna who live in the same exclusive star-studded cul-de-sac, Tom Cruise is on a mission to unload his Rocky Mountain getaway for $39.5 million, Goldie Hawn gushes her life partner Kurt Russell is still hot as heck after turning 70

* Fashion Verdict -- Miranda Lambert 4/10, Taylor Swift 5/10, Phoebe Bridgers 1/10, Giuliana Rancic 7/10, Brandi Carlile 6/10

Page 16: Cover Story -- Angelina Jolie is determined to paint her ex Brad Pitt as an abusive, drunken monster, and now she's got their kids backing her claim that he's the dad from hell -- the mom of six, who's been battling Brad in court over custody and money for five years, filed new bombshell papers saying she and her children want to testify their life was the pits -- while the documents are sealed, Angelina is making sure their kids paint Brad as violent and aggressive and her shocking charges continue earlier accusations by oldest child Maddox, now 19 and in college, who accused a booze-fueled Brad of abusing him on a private flight five years ago and Maddox essentially painted his dad as a demented monster and he went into detail about Brad's terrible temper, the abuse he inflicted on the whole household with his binge drinking and the scars that exist to this day because of the appalling way he alleges Brad treated his mom during the marriage -- Brad has reportedly been sober for years and Angelina's new claims of domestic abuse are basically a rehash of the old accusations -- legal experts also maintain the minor kids can only testify if Brad agrees to it, which is doubtful -- the superstars have spent a combined $10 million in legal fees and are currently battling over visitation rights for their brood and Angelina has refused to compromise, wants full custody and calls it a fight to the death and she doesn't care about Brad or how anybody sees their fight, she just wants what she feels she is entitled to as a mother and will fight with every inch of her body and soul to get it

Page 19: 10 Things You Don't Know About Topher Grace

* Katherine Heigl boasts she's bionic after having two titanium disks inserted into her neck and the actress says the surgery has freed her from the most excruciating pain

* Wendy Williams broke wind in a stunning fart-burp combo while she was live on camera, right in the middle to discussing Kim Kardashian's divorce from Kanye West -- the gassy lassie seemed surprised at her own outburst and apologized to the audience

Page 20: True Crime

Page 23: William Shatner is creating an artificial intelligence-powered version of himself -- in true sci-fi fashion, people in the future will be able to ask him questions about his life and times -- the 90-year-old icon is the first person to be captured by an advanced video and sound system developed by the L.A.-based company StoryFile -- Shatner says with StoryFile, we can now be present for the future; your authentic self, for all time

* Furious perfume mogul William Lauder is battling to kick his former mistress Taylor Stein and their 13-year-old love child out of her home and into the street, because their supposedly secret love affair was revealed -- the big stink exploded after the 60-year-old Estee Lauder heir learned his secret teen daughter wrote on social media that her parents were divorced but actually, Lauder never wed Taylor, but kept her like a queen in a $7 million, 6000-square-foot Bel Air mansion with a $1 million annual allowance for years and the only condition was that she keep their affair and the child under wraps, but the Park Avenue playboy claims she blasted their pact to smithereens when his illicit daughter blabbed about the relationship online -- Lauder hooked up with Taylor in Aspen in 2000 while still wed to wife Karen, mom of three of his daughters -- he knocked Taylor up in 2005, but told her to get an abortion because he was then in the midst of divorcing Karen but three years before the 2009 divorce, Taylor got pregnant again and gave birth to their girl and that's when the moneybags lover boy drew up the hush-hush deal

Page 24: COVID vaccines hidden dangers -- scientists warn shots don't work and have nightmare side effects

Page 27: Gal rock roadie Tana Douglas is snitching on music superstars including George Harrison and Iggy Pop, who she got close to during her wild years traveling with bands -- in her book called Loud, she recalls her job hauling equipment for bands nearly ended at age 21 when Beatle George Harrison was ready to propose, but she blew it; the two were getting close under a kitchen table after George fled his own birthday party, where he was embarrassed by his present: strippers and she ruined the mood by firing up a cigarette and George told her he would marry her tomorrow if she gave up smoking but the first female rock roadie couldn't kick butts -- she has crazy stories about saving AC/DC's frontman Bon Scott when he overdosed, Elton John who did drugs and threw tantrums, The Go-Gos, and doing a line of coke with Iggy Pop intended for David Bowie

Page 28: Health Report

Page 30: Julianne Hough has plumped up her kisser, and her new look falls flat -- the newly single star may have gone overboard with lip fillers to the point where she's almost unrecognizable -- Julianne's had some surgical and nonsurgical things done, but her lips just look wonky and no one can understand why she'd do it because her lips looked fine to her friends and family, but Julianne obviously thought they needed more volume and clearly got carried away -- she's also totally gone overboard with the spray tanning and hair extensions and she ditched the short blond bob that suited her so well and now she's looking like a Kardashian -- her lips look a bit swollen, so it's possible they will settle down and her natural lip proportions appear to have changed, with her upper lip the same size as her lower lip

Page 32: Tori Spelling has got the marriage blues and she's been out and about without her wedding ring -- the 47-year-old mom of five was spotted buying veggies at Underwood Family Farms in California's Moorpark with her kids but minus husband Dean McDermott and her wedding ring -- Tori's fed up with her mate, whining he's not doing his share around the house or paying her enough attention and they've found themselves in a real rut where they spend less and less time together and barely mention one another on social media and they haven't had a date night since goodness knows and Dean is never in the romantic mood and lately, they're more like brother and sister than husband and wife -- Tori wants Dean to step it up and start acting like a hubby instead of a leach and Tori's exhausting herself by taking care of the domestic chores single-handedly at times while Dean has other things on his mind and he hasn't picked up a vacuum or washed the dishes in weeks and sometimes he doesn't seem to be aware she's in the room and it's frustrating her to no end -- ditching her ring is sending Dean a very clear message that he needs to stop taking her for granted and work on the marriage

* Paul McCartney dove deep into his Beatles past and emerged with a children's book inspired by the group's 1966 hit Yellow Submarine -- Grandude's Green Submarine, a sequel to Paul's picture book Hey Grandude, will be released in September and changes the color of the submerged vessel

Page 36: Reality TV momager Kris Jenner is worth an estimated $190 million and masterminded the megabucks careers of her reality star daughters, but she confesses she was clueless about dough when she became divorced -- Kris confesses first husband Robert Kardashian handled everything and she never paid a bill during their 13-year marriage that ended in 1991 -- she said she woke up to responsibilities that she didn't have the day before but she says she's a quick study and she knew she had to get it together and she felt such an enormous sense of accomplishment to be able to figure it all out and pay her own bills and make her own money and do her own taxes and there were times when she didn't have a lot of money, but she was very organized -- now she studies business for new opportunities and she's interested in different businesses and how they evolve and how they become successful and she just enjoys the business world

* Bobby Brown's son Bobby Jr. died after accidentally overdosing on a killer cocktail of alcohol, cocaine and fentanyl, his autopsy reveals, but lawmen say they are now opening a criminal investigation into the 27-year-old's death at his father's home in suburban L.A. -- the autopsy report showed in his final hours Bobby Jr. consumed a deadly mix of tequila, cocaine and the prescription medication Percocet -- he was Brown's second child with former galpal Kim Ward

Page 38: Long-lost letters written by Nazi dictator Adolf Hitler's father, Alois, reveal the freaky Fuhrer grew up to be a cruel, tyrannical, arrogant lout, just like his old man -- the 31 letters were discovered by retiree Anneliese Smigielski in the attic of her house in the Austrian town of Wallern and are the basis of a new book by historian Roman Sandgruber -- penned to Anneliese's great-great-great-grandfather Joseph Radlegger, who sold retired customs official Alois a farm when future Nazi monster Adolf was six in 1895, the letters reveal Hitler's dad was a brutal boozer and boss of the house, but depended on the skills and money of his third wife, Klara, a former servant girl the cheating creep had seduced and wine-guzzling Alois was awfully rough with her and beat little Adolf and the other eight kids -- like his father, Adolf felt superior through the knowledge he had acquired in self-study and he saw himself as a military, technical and artistic genius, not only as a painter, but also as an architect, writer, composer and actor

Page 40: Bethenny Frankel is sporting an engagement ring from fiance Paul Bernon -- the three-stone ring features a huge eight- to ten-carat emerald-shaped center stone and if it's a real, natural diamond, its estimated value is up to $1 million

* Gwyneth Paltrow just babbled something her second husband, Brad Falchuk, probably doesn't want to hear: she never wanted to get divorced from Chris Martin but she wed Brad in 2018 and Gwyneth calls him the most amazing man adding they've built something that she's never had before

* Suzanne Somers brags she and husband Alan Hamel are having sizzling sex three times a day before noon -- she blames doses of hormones for their frisky urges in their golden years

* Klutzy comic Chelsea Handler jokes about her subpar skiing skills online, but later revealed she wrecked her knee and broke two toes after she flew into the trees on a snowy slope in Canada -- Chelsea confesses she took the terrible tumble in British Columbia, where she was training with a personal instructor

Page 41: Vin Diesel's son Vincent is learning it's a good career move to have a movie star dad -- the 10-year-old has landed a $1000-a-day role in his father's new Fast and Furious flick -- the kid plays the younger version of Vin's character Dominic Toretto in the already completed, ninth F&F film -- Vincent's mom is Vin's longtime galpal, Mexican model Paloma Jimenez, who also has two daughters with Vin -- unlike his dad's megabucks salary, Vincent got the basic $1005 daily rate

* The faith-based Duggar family of 19 Kids and Counting fame is still feuding after a sleazy sex scandal ripped them apart -- Jill Duggar Dillard, who's outed herself as one of four sisters molested by big brother Josh Duggar, reveals she hasn't visited her parents' home in years -- Jill and husband Derick Dillard, say they aren't allowed at Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar's Big House without her father's permission and Jill reveals there's some restrictions but also they just feel like they have to prioritize their mental and emotional health -- TLC axed the family's show after Josh was exposed as a child molester and in the past, Jill's admitted she's not on the best terms with some of her family

Page 42: Kim Kardashian has been getting back in touch with her body big-time now that she has booted Kanye West from her bedroom and her life and she's been strolling around totally nude -- with the pair's six-year marriage officially kaput, Kim is gleefully letting it all hang out, while indulging in once-forbidden McDonald's french fries -- Kanye made a habit of telling Kim to cover up and picked her to pieces for wearing sexy outfits and he said she needed to class up her act and grow old gracefully but now she's free to express herself and a lot of the time, especially when Kanye's looking after the kids, she's walking around totally in the nude and it's liberating for her to be at one with her body and she's made no secret of her desire to pursue a racy image and right now Kim's priority is to get her mojo back and learn to love herself again physically

* Britney Spears confesses she's been so wrapped up in battling the conservatorship over her estate, she forgot about singing until her mom reminded her -- the singer hasn't cut an album for five years as she's battled dad Jamie Spears for control of her $60 million fortune after a court gave him control when she went bonkers in 2008 -- she now realizes she's neglected her career after mom Lynne Spears sent her a video of her signing You Got It All at a '90s concert in Singapore and Britney tweeted that her mom reminded her that she can sing and she never sings anymore

Page 44: Straight Talk -- Cradle-robbing Scott Disick has struck again, scooping up a new galpal half of his 37 years, who is barely out of high school -- the latest victim is Amelia Hamlin, 19 years old and daughter of Lisa Rinna and Harry Hamlin

Page 45: Sharon Osbourne is demanding at least $10 million to walk away from The Talk after being accused of racist and sexist attacks on co-hosts -- Sharon is playing hardball, saying she was wrongly vilified for branding lesbian co-star Sara Gilbert a fish eater and calling Chinese-American Julie Chen slanty eyes -- it's going to become a battle royale and Sharon's made her demands clear and will fight tooth and nail and she's a street fighter and is used to playing down and dirty, owing to her years as a hard-nosed rock manager for husband Ozzy Osbourne

[captainjimothycarter]

She knows of her, sure. But Natasha’s never met the woman. There were horror stories about this woman in some countries. Her reputation was not something to fuck with. Natasha got her chance though. When she was her most devious. Because let’s face it—there are but a select few who are better at what she does, or is capable of. Has done. There’s even a shorter list of special people Natasha won’t touch. Peggy Carter is one of them.

 OP are you SURE you trust me with this amazing prompt? [I took it under my own interpretation, if this isn’t what you intended, I apologize.]

--

She was being followed.

Being Director of Shield – excuse me newly appointment Director, as Howard is not to let her get over that quite anytime soon, she is used to it.

She’s always being followed, rather it's by security that’s supposed to tag her at all times, even when she is home alone.

By her husband whose now, as she last checked in before he went radio silent had just landed in Quebec.

By people who want her dead.

That was nothing new.

Peggy knew she was being followed, she just couldn’t prove it. Not yet.

The person didn’t want to be found, instead, she wanted Peggy to know that she was following her. Peggy knew that the stranger knew, because why else would she allow a misstep here or there when she’s been careful beforehand?

No, she wanted her to know that she’s being watched.

Watched for what? Evaluated? Studied? Locked away in some system they had yet to crack to find a full analysis of her? The possibilities were unknown but Peggy was very much used to the near-impossible when it came to Shield and her enemies.

Fieldwork was no longer in the photo for Peggy. She had agents for that, good agents that she trusted. Yet there comes a time when she’s forced to play her hand, to make her own play in the field or she’s forced to defend herself after some diplomatic meeting has gone wrong.

And crikey, has this one gone wrong.

She knew it was a set up from the start and had warned her men, but they were preoccupied with outside forces, leaving Peggy to handle the three inside.

Two were down for the count, one dead with his own bullet through his skull, the other most likely paralyzed for life thanks to Peggy twisting his neck just enough to make him collapse. The last before her was barely standing, bloodied with pale, white eyes.

There were no words needed to be said. Peggy was tired of talking. Talking go nowhere. Actions did. She’s proven that time and time again. The final swing of the make-shift weapon that once was the leg of a chair bashed into the man’s head and dropped him to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He was dead. Just another on her list of reasons why she’s a horrible person. A necessary decision to protect others, so Peggy likes to think she did the right thing. But that’s not her judgment to make when she dies.

That’s no one to make.

Her ears are ringing, trying to recount in her head the last few events, the men in the room. She’s suffered some blood loss, her shoulder is bleeding. There’s a bullet lodged in there that’s gonna play hell to get out. Most likely she will pass out soon, her vision was already spotty.

Every agent knew when they were being followed.

There was a noise. A heavy crashing, the sound of glass shattering. Peggy whirled around and caught the wall to see the chandelier had fallen on a masked man she hadn’t seen in the room before. He had a knife in hand, no doubt poised to stab her in the back. How poetic.

Yet how had such a secure piece had fallen? The wire looked cut. Her eyes flew to the ceiling and spotted just out the window a flash of red hair. So it was her, her mysterious stalker.

Well, she should get her a thank you basket, now shouldn’t she?

--

“He’s not going to be happy about that, is he?”

Peggy doesn’t look up from the folder she’s reading, flipping the page of the report over. Her left shoulder is stinging, refusing to take any pain meds. Without looking up, she knows who it is. Her stalker. She’s somewhere in her office, meaning she was followed in here, like many times before. Meaning she wants to discuss. Not harm. Why save her if not just to harm her?

Peggy shrugged her wounded shoulder and regrets that choice.

“Possibly, but it's not his place to worry, despite how I know he will.” She’s talking about Steve or perhaps Michael, either way, she’s right. “He will get over it and I’ll heal quite fine.” Finally, she looks up to see the redhead sitting in front of her with emerald green eyes that stare right into her soul. “I should thank you for saving my life this afternoon. I hadn’t seen him come in.”

“And nor should you. He didn’t wish to be seen.” She plopped in the chair and put her feet up on Peggy’s desk, balancing on two legs. “You don’t deserve to die.”

Peggy snorted. “Some disagree.”

“Certainly, but not in that manner. No one deserves to die stabbed in the back.”

She can’t help but wonder who hurt her? Whose hurt the redhead before her? “Agreed.” A pause, they’re regarding one another. “You’re making yourself known. If I was to be dead, it would’ve been beforehand. You don’t kill people when they’re at their weakest. There’s no fun in that, so why are you here?”

Natasha smirks because she’s serious. Genuine serious. Good. She’s never met someone who could match her skill set so easily. She’s read her record, the woman was dangerous across several countries, her diplomacy within Shield is what keeps her from being locked away or killed. She’s good. Too good. “To offer you my hand.”

Peggy’s red lips twitch before she flinches as she leans back, kicking her heels off and tucking them under her chair. Even relaxed, she looks dangerous. “I’m afraid I’m already married.”

Natasha laughs. Even that sound alone would send chills down someone’s spine, but not her. She’s steady, hard as a rock. “I wouldn’t’ dare to take you from him or vise versa. No, you two keep each other stable. You’re a solid force.” She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth and hums for a moment. “You and I both know that I am not the only one trailing you. You don’t mind this easy and that’s how you’ve survived so far. You willingly walked into a situation you knew that was dangerous. That will betray you, but how many more of those do you possess? How many more of those lucky moments do you have? A cat only has nine lives.”

Peggy is silent, watching her lean back in the chair, until it threatens to fall before she slams it back down.

“You don’t need my help but I am offering it. I know the lists of those against you. I know the people. I know the intel. The world needs a strong woman like you leading them. We cannot risk losing you. You are what stands in their way from destroying innocent lives.” She’s a killer, yes, but she has morals, every killer does when you kill for the right reason. You kill a pedophile so you save children’s lives. You kill a murderer who does this for fun to save countless lives. You kill a politician who will see his citizens will die rather than help them. She can’t say she’s for hire, but she knows a good choice when she sees it.

She won’t say protect, Peggy’s notice, and for good reason. Protection. That’s what you tell little kids at night when they have dreams. Protection. Safe. That’s an illusion she’s long lost. She is no longer safe and perhaps has never been safe, the more she uncovers of her family and its history. She’s been prepared her entire life and she’s ready to face the challenges.

Peggy’s hand curls around her tumble of bourbon and sips on it before passing it over to the redhead who drinks it down in one gulp. “This cat has a handful of lives left,” she purrs, looking at the empty glass and turning it over in her hand. “Your assistance will be most welcome. Your price, perhaps not.”

“Since when is the price ever a good one?” Natasha purred, her head cocking to the side. She won’t ask a name. She won’t remember her face. These ones are good, valuable. She sees why many want her dead. “Only one. You will be visited by the one they call the Asset. Perhaps the Winter Soldier is another name you know.” She pauses, she regards Peggy’s eyes. They’re hard. She knows him and not on good terms. “Your first instinct will be to kill him and why not? He has killed so many of your friends, your family. I ask that you do not. What Captain Rogers is to you is what he is to me. He is in no control of his actions as a puppet is on strings.” Peggy’s head barely nods. She understands. Out of everyone, she would.

“We will keep him safe,” Peggy muses, picking her head up to meet those eyes. “I can promise you that. Everyone should be in control of their own actions. This does not leave the room beyond my husband.”

“As expected. He will need to be with you to subdue him. You’ll find out behind the man is a familiar face.” Standing up, Natasha regards the woman called Director Carter before that, Agent Carter, and before that, just Marge. Now she’s a force of nature that no one knows any bounds to stop. Everything will be destroyed in her wreckage to shape the future she wishes to have, regardless of who wants it or not.

Peggy Carter is a dangerous woman and Natasha intends to keep it that way.

[pandoriasbox]

Jade’s SSO Rambles - 8 Updated Care/Bonding System

(Please keep in mind that these are my thoughts and opinions at the time of writing these rambles. I may change my mind in the future.)

Some time after I sorted out my thoughts on the current care system I took a step back and finally fit the pieces together regarding how I think a new “care” system could be implemented into SSO. Some of this is pulling from ideas for my own personal horse game concept but I don’t think that’ll be an issue. My game is intended to be a single player experience with a very different horse system to SSO’s collect ‘em all style of horse models.

We are very long overdue for a better care system and I certainly don’t blame the team for taking their time on it. I would prefer to wait over having something so integral to the game’s core be rushed and sloppy. I just hope that I can toss my own two cents in and propose some decent ideas that might help facilitate a better experience.

A final additional note before I begin, I do have ideas for how to expand on the care skill I will be lightly brushing over but I plan on doing a separate ramble on it. Primarily it involves some suggestions for improving the skill and making it more useful and interesting than its current implementation and expanding on ideas for the Rescue Ranch and Jorvik Rangers.

Regardless of System Adjustments (From Previous Ramble)

Remove designated care areas (stable interior, outside of stables, ranch rp areas, ect) and let the player do basic care actions such as brushing, hoof picking, watering and feeding anywhere.

Remove the loading bar and just play the animations as well as remove the blinking/fading black screens. If necessary clip the player into place like when mounting and simply let them move from where they are after the animation. (Unless it could cause issues with players clipping through walls.)

Keep a simplistic means of doing horse care for roleplay and accessibility. (I don’t think the mini games are a bad idea but I think something simple that is a single click or click and drag with animations should be kept in.)

Bonding System Overview

Horses do not need daily care to maintain happiness which is removed along with the debuffs for not caring. Any care performed instead builds up the horse’s “bond” with the player. Bond does not give buffs to speed or anything that actively affects racing or PVP gameplay. Bonding is also earned by actively interacting with the horse. Your current ridden horse does not lose bonding even when dismounted.

The bond level is only decreased while the player is in game and not actively riding the horse. I would argue that technically horses in the pasture should be allowed to maintain their bond level and only horses kept active in the stable should be affected. (Pasture horses are resting and this would allow players to build up bond with their sometimes 100+ horses without feeling punished for having so many.)

Having high bonding with a horse primarily affects the player when they are actively riding the horse. This could result in bonuses such as earning more horse experience, getting a boost to endurance/horse HP and maybe your horse even can randomly find items for you. I also like to think if potions were added to the game that those (and visual effects like powders) could have extended use on high bonded horses.

Benefits

Treats/Feed Boosts

Increased Bond (Points)

Speed Boost

Agility Boost

Jump Boost

Endurance/HP Boost

High Bonding Benefits

Boost to Horse Exp

Higher Endurance/Horse HP

Horse Randomly Finds Objects

Potions and Powder Effects Last Longer

In general I think switching to a “bonding” system is far more friendly to all players but especially children. It avoids this idea of abusing your horses if you don’t care for them and that your actions could cause unhappiness for your animals. It also removes the guilt of not paying for stable care and as I mentioned in my other care ramble allows players to spend more money on buying more horses without feeling guilt of getting additional horses.

This system would also make it easier to manage large amounts of horses and make it more enjoyable to switch between all of them. For me I generally feel trapped into only riding a few at a time because I cannot afford stable care. That means I either plan out who I ride or suffer through a heavily debuffed horse since both stable care and vets are too expensive and I personally don’t have the time to care for more than 5 horses.

The suggestions I will bring up could give players better means to interact with their horses and control their play style, adding more to how players think about interacting with the game while still giving them reasons to log in often. At the same time though players aren’t being punished (or technically rewarded) for not playing the game either.

Loss of Bond and Freezing Bond Level

Loss of bonding over in game time only occurs on horses who are stabled and not pastured or not your currently ridden horse.

While the player is in game stabled horses’ bond levels will slowly decrease. This can be paused for the day by doing any action that increases bonding. (For example just running around and petting or feeding each stabled horse once is enough.) When the server ticks over to the next day the bond will begin decreasing again while the player is in game. It’s best to do this as soon as you jump on to play to freeze the horse’s current bonding level.

For players who do not wish to actively interact with each horse I believe having a feeding system (not unlike Amelia’s idea for a silo) would work well as an automated bonding action to freeze your background bonding loss. I will go into this more later in the rambles but it would activate with server rollover and not require the player to initiate it so they can have hands free care without requiring SC.

Bond loss due to time in the stable unridden should not be a rapid loss, it should take around 3-4 days worth of not caring for your horse at all while playing the game to completely lose bond level. Bonding should be able to be relatively quickly increased but require more effort to do so faster.

Whenever your actively ridden horse is injured to the point of having no HP left that will reduce bond level by quite a bit. You put your horse in harm’s way and did not protect them therefore they feel less of a bond with you. Whenever your horse is injured enough to remove HP that may also slightly decrease bond as well.

Increasing Bonding

Primarily bond would be improved via interacting with your horse with the main ways being feeding, watering, grooming, petting and racing/training. When racing/training bond is gained (and any bonus exp is earned) with the horse whom you turn it in with.

I think a new feeding system should be implemented along with this idea where instead of doing “stable care” and paying SC to activate it the player has the option to use their feed room to craft food for their horses and choose a feeding schedule for them. Scheduling feed would be similar to stable care where the player simply picks how many days they’d like it active and can cancel the current feed (while keeping in mind they won’t get anything in return for doing it.) The amount of feed needed increases along with how many days the player’s horses will be fed. This should not be affected by the stable size or number of horses in the stable however.

Horse feeding would only apply to horses currently stabled and not affect pastured horses. Doing a mass stable feed allows the player to either choose between doing a basic feed to maintain bond (increasing it by 1pt) or to apply bonuses such as improving how much bonding it provides or adding boosts to stats.

Feed can be obtained via either crafting it (free but more effort) or purchasing it from a food vendor with shillings or SC. Standard feed can be bought with JS or SC but specialized feeds might require SC. All food can be crafted but not everything can be purchased. Crafting requires more effort on the player’s part as they need to collect the ingredients in the world (or save some from events such as free food from the Winter Village. Or maybe we could have our own farms and gardens someday.)

Any stat boosts should be relatively small however and not able to stack. If there is stacking it should only be with different boosts. For example if a player has a horse on a feed that boosts speed then feeding them a treat that boosts speed should not add more speed. However the horse in speed boosting feed could have a treat that boosts jump. Potentially they could be fed multiple treats but only be buffed once per stat.

In addition to feed I think having craftable treats would be wonderful for expanding horse care and adding more a personalized experience. If trading is ever implemented players could sell or gift horse food they made to others. Even without trading this could be a small way for players to make money and convert materials they find in the world into shillings through the effort of crafting.

When feeding your horse however there should be a limit and using feed counts as one point of feeding for that day. The player can continue feeding their horse treats but after say 5 feedings they no longer boost your horse’s bonding. This may also be something to keep in mind with grooming where doing the main grooming actions only give bonding once per day but can be performed countless times. (Such as brushing, hoof picking and using the wash stall.)

I also think it might be cute if your horse has a preference for a specific kind of food each day which is randomized. If you can guess what type of food it is (like a treat with apples in it or just apples) then it could give an extra bonding bonus. I wouldn’t go with horses having perma favorite foods because I know I personally like to imagine my horses liking certain things then I feel disappointed if they don’t follow my idea in game. This also could encourage players to try feeding their horses a variety of treats as well, encouraging them to find and create each recipe.

Horse Food and Recipes

I think starting out the player should have access to some basic options such as being able to feed their horse a few standard food (+1, +3 or +5 bonding effect per day for feed or per treat) and maybe a basic speed boost recipe for feed and treats.

For advanced recipes the player will need to complete mini quests and befriend/increase reputation with the NPCs or groups around Jorvik. For example, after helping Ed Field fix up the inn and revive it he has enough rep with you that he decides to give you a nutter butters weird horse treat or feed recipe. Other options could be a questionable but safe smoothie from Tim or Jamie Olivetree giving you a horse biscuit recipe that with some tweaking the player is able to figure out how not to burn to a crisp. Marly’s family could give rewards unique to each of them including his sister offering a gourmet one.

These recipes would be unlocked following a mini quest given by the NPC and then become permanently available in the crafting part of the feed room. In general it’s a nice way to both give players more reasons to interact with the world and reward those who get invested in it. It also helps flesh out the NPCs and the world we are living in while adding some more holistic aspects. To me it would feel like I’m truly making friends and finding a home in the world of Jorvik through small things such as NPCs appreciating my help so much they gift or help me out in turn. This would also be something that requires the player to work for the more “powerful” items in the game AKA the ability to properly buff your horse outside of tack.

Quick Care Skill Notes

I think I will leave an in depth discussion on improving the care skill to another ramble but I wanted to cover a few ideas and how they might factor into this new bonding system

Players with higher care skill would have automatic bonuses applied to their bonding with all of their horses. For example let’s say every 5 levels of care the player gains an extra +1 with all bonding increases. A player at level 1-4 in care would receive no benefit, one at level 5-9 would get +1 and 10-14 would get +2 and so on. So if brushing only gave +1 bonding usually then a player at level 10 would get +3 bonding with their horse.

If more aspects were added to horse health and we were able to heal our horses with bought/crafted first aid kits then having high care could result in both gaining more bond back as well as improving how much your horse is healed.

Potentially a player with high care skill could have a chance of producing better quality feed and treats with a basic treat that normally only gives +2 could have a 25% chance of being boosted to a higher quality such as giving +5 bond instead.

Overall I’m incredibly happy with what I was able to come up with and even if none of this makes it into the game I do hope that my discussion can help inspire the team or anyone else who reads this when it comes to thinking critically about game systems. I do hope it helps with brainstorming and thinking about how to address interconnected systems within SSO itself though and can provide some benefit to the team. 

Silo idea mentioned can be found in Amelia and Leila’s interview! I also want to mention that the recipes idea was most likely pitched to me by my friends but I apologize for not recalling who as both @sso-ali-archdotter and @centeris2 have been integral to helping me flesh this idea out and I want to thank them profusely for listening to my endless jumbled rambles. 

I also hope you all enjoyed reading through my thoughts on a bonding system and found it intriguing! Let me know if you have any thoughts by leaving a reply, reblog or ask! Likes are always welcome as well and thank you for taking the time to read through this huge discussion!

[fymagnificentwomcn]

Women of Ottoman make me so sad especially when people hate on them. Those women lived horrible lives. Most of them were kidnapped, sold, thrown under a psycho Padisah. How can you wait for them to care for your kingdom? Of course they were going to survive for themselves and for their children. None of them deserves the hate they get. I hope God put all of them in peace. No human should go through such terrible things.

Totally agree Anon.

Women from Ottoman Empire cannot be for example compared with women from the West – first and foremost, they were slaves that at the very beginning lost their families, homes and even had to change their name and religion to have any chance at making a new life. Some lost their families very early, and often it also affected them emotionally when they grew up without having familial bonds. Even as consorts, they were one of many, and they had no legal status outside their children, Even mothers of princes other than hasekis were referred to as “Mother of Prince X” in records, and mothers of daughters were even more invisible. They had a very limited access to outside world, there was no way a woman could ascend the throne as a ruler in her own reign, other than as regent. Not to mention all matters connected with fratricide and kafes, it was living in constant fear. It’s hard to compare them to European queens, who had more stable and safe position even if they also had to face misogyny and oppression .

It was no fairytale, even in the show that didn’t show a lot of atrocities involved in slave trade and focused on those women who still somewhat “succeeded”.

I will use this opportunity to discuss some double standards about those who succeeded vs. those who didn’t pertaining to the TV show, but will later come to the crux, I promise.

The faux feminism in this fandom is astounding to me,including the glaring obvious double standards depending on who fan favourite is - and fan favourite is often who is simply “the coolest”, “most victorious”, “most stylish”, “most lucky”, generally young, beautiful, badass, and successful, not sad or depressed. We all know reactions to Hürrem and Mahidevran doing the same things back in original MY - when Mahidevran did awful things to Hürrem, she was just pathetic jealous woman, but when Hürrem did multiple times the same or worse things to other women it was “yass queen” and she ‘fights for her love, so touching, so strong, so great, self defence”. Suddenly Hürrem is allowed to do so because she”s “not like other girls, so not like these pathetic dumb losers”. Hürrem was strong, cunning, and smart, but she also had one clear advantage over all her “enemies” - the love of the most powerful man in Ottoman history. She made multiple mistakes too, but could always count on Suleiman turning a blind eye or forgiving her - something that Mahidevran or others could never count on.

Frankly, even Hürrem vs. Mustafa was often treated more as Hürrem vs. all this “pathetic” women that fought for Mustafa’s case aka Mahidevran or Suleiman’s sisters in fandom. Suddenly Mustafa cannot even defend his own mother because he immediately had it coming for “choosing the wrong side”. Even if you disapprove of him defending/not abandoning his mother, e.g. choosing to poison him sounds a little disproportionate, don’t you think? I said it and I will repeat it again – Hürrem is a character very similar to Cersei – yes, she suffered a lot because of a system devaluing women and yes she’s a survivor and a strong woman who managed to make life for herself in that system – but she’s not a feminist character because she actually only uses the system to her own advantage (and often perpetuates it), and actually displays a lot of traits of internalised misogyny, voicing multiple times how she is different from other girls and this is why she must be the only one by Suleiman’s side, while other women aren’t even entitled to dream about such things. She condemns Mahidevran for wanting to be the only one and being jealous, but then when Suleiman is with other woman she’s all “I’m not like pathetic Mahidevran, I must be the only one”. Same with multiple comments that she often makes… Hürrem was sassy &sarcastic, and had many good comebacks, but it makes me sad how people often cheered on and applauded those worst ones that again display internalised misogyny, like her mocking Mahidevran why she cares about her appearance so much when she doesn’t have a man to share a bed with? Or her again being all “I will give birth to many boys, and you won’t even give birth to a girl”. Again, that whole society was misogynistic and other women also were influenced by it, like they all wanted to give birth to a boy mostly…but often it is about status and wanting to raise/maintain rank, while Hürrem boasts the fact that she gives birth to many boys as again a trait to show how special&strong she is, even part of her reaction to Mihrimah’s birth is her unable to accept the fact that she could give birth to a girl and being disgusted by the fact.. yes, she accepts her later on and her reaction does also stem from being aware of how misogynist the system is, but it shows precisely that – yes, she is influenced by the system and suffered because of it, but at the same time she begins to display same behaviour that she suffered from, tries to cut herself from others in disadvantaged position. And yes, not all characters had similar reactions to giving births to daughters, and mind you Hürrem already had a son&became sultana, plus was Suleiman’s clear fave that could hope for more children. She wasn’t in the worst situation, even Hafsa and Suleiman were very happy at birth of a girl and nobody criticised her for it. Conversely, in MYK Kösem states multiple times that she wants to give Ahmed both sons and daughters, and when she’s pregnant with her second child, she says she wants a girl now for a change. Even when Ayşe hopes for a boy so that Murad’s anger may be melted, she’s happy about Kaya’s birth&clearly loves the baby from the start & is distraught when she is taken from her. Hürrem was never intended to be viewed as feminist, always justified heroine.. this is why instead of making her first bad deed be a revenge on Mahidevran, who had treated her horribly and unfairly, she attacked the person who was most kind to her of them all and who recently went through the same exact shit. Some people hate Gülnihal, but then say Hürrem wasn’t a homewrecker because she had the right to make life for herself in harem.. true, but so did Gülnihal, and it’s not like she could refuse to go to Suleiman’s chambers pls. It wasn’t to be seen as right, it was clearly shown that Hürrem can be both the oppressed and oppressor at the same time from the start. If they had wanted to make her character only all about revenge, they would have again made her gone after Mahi, not innocent Gülnihal, her “best friend”. And people going how Mahi is irredeemable, but with Hürrem it’s so okay because she’s cool while she slays..eh. I admit I never liked Hürrem because personally she never appealed to me, but I totally get why people stan her because she’s an interesting, three-dimensional character (and yes she does have a softer side too), I’m just bothered by some making her some empowered heroine who is excused for everything by the fact that she was a slave and suffered a lot because of it – because you know she is not the only one who went through the same shit – the harem is full of such women, for start. Even statesmen like Ibrahim or Rüstem are slaves (of course as men they have more opportunities for a career etc.), eunuchs attending ladies are slaves… This whole system is based on slavery, yet she often behaves & talks like she’s the only one who lost her family, was kidnapped & mistreated.

And even Nurbanu becoming her successor was accidental because she actually wanted her dead later, though of course Nurbanu was still clearly inspired by her. She never intended for anyone to follow her example and to make her elevation become a permanent element of Ottoman system, and it’s symbolised by her decision to bury the “ring of power” (lol) with her (though of course what Nurbanu did with taking it anyway was plain disgusting).

I think that trying to examine why this character behaves like that is more interesting than simply go YASSS QUEEN.

Thus said, I hate these reductive“takes” calling these women “bitches” because yes there are complex reasons why some of them have become pretty cruel, so while there are no excuses for some of the behaviour, the simple word “bitch” does not cut it at all.

/Yes, I discussed Hürrem here because out of all MY/K characters she seems to be the least hated among major female characters & biggest fan favourite,/

Anyway, the point is that neither Hürrem nor Mahidevran are the villains of the story. The show makes it clear in its last episodes that Suleiman is the true villain – he was the most powerful man at that time, when the padisah’s position was truly strong, as Gülfem put it in the finale “even leaf cannot fall without your approval”. He’s not as dumb or passive as it may seem at first glance -of course he needs to pretend to be objective and just, but he has his own agenda just as everyone else. Moreover, he pretended to be the one trying to ease conflicts… yet he was often the one enhancing them. Even from the start when he gave the ring he had promised Mahidevran to Hürrem&and in many ways humiliated her… then he did the same with giving Isabella necklace he had promised Hürrem. Bah, it was clear he often enjoyed making Hürrem jealous because it flattered his ego. He ultimately even enhanced the conflict between Selim and Bayezid to get rid of the latter, who was “the more dangerous son”. He was always pulling the strings.. he allowed Selim to buy Bayezid from Tahmasp by the way he conducted negotiations because he knew Bayezid would get rid of his brother on the road. It’s practically what Gülfem says to him in last episode again. He knew what backlash was directed at him following Mustafa’s death and he didn’t want another son killed in front of him. As Mahidevran said in the final episode to Mihrimah “It was your father who chose the lives we lived for all of us”. He was the one that determined the fate for everyone. And even if Mihrimah did not want to admit it in any way in front of her mother’s enemy, she pretty much understood then that Selim was also her father’s puppet in a way and it’s my guess why she ultimately decides to leave the palace instead of plotting revenge for Bayezid (and we know she would eventually be back). It was Suleiman who was pulling strings all along throughout the whole show, even sometimes by choosing to refrain from acting.

In MYK, the situation is different that we deal with incompetent, weak or even tyrannical sultans, who are also sometimes danger to ordinary people or break the Imperial law. Kösem acts here like the protector of sultanate and again we see different standards. Can you imagine how criticised Kösem would be if she had used similar methods to Murad’s or even once had gone to on “night spree” and executed people for banning all these dumb prohibitions? Yet for many Murad is the “cool guy” and “poor misunderstood Murad”. Calling Kösem a tyrant.. please you have an actual tyrant here. Look how much criticism she gets for saying “I’m the state”, while Murad calls himself “shadow of God on Earth” , “sole owner of the Ottoman Empire”, “I’m the justice” , “true death” etc. all the time and he’s “badass”. Or how she’s criticised because she dared to try to influence the Divan to convince Murad to change punishment for his prohibitions. She’s an “usurper”, not the guy who enacts unjust law and oppresses his subjects.

And here we come to crux – look at how Suleiman is treated in MY, everyone is flattering him, he’s the one who for most time isn’t blamed for what is happening, everyone strives to be in his good graces, his sons step on their toes around him and idealise him even when he behaves like a total asshat. Even when he dies people try to remember him for his “magnificence”

Now look at Kösem, a female ruler, who was turned by scapegoat by people when something went bad and she had far less freedom to make choices and yet far more criticism, blame shifting and insults thrown her way. Suleiman is credited “for making sacrifices for the Empire”… but he really didn’t have to execute all the people he decided to kill, and his decisions truly affected everyone badly and led to further mess, starting from Ibrahim’s.. It was especially visible in case of Mustafa – he was obviously innocent and didn’t intend to rebel, but after what happened rebellions did begin.Conversely, each difficult decision that Kösem made led to stabilisation in Empire and prevented unrest, yet what she does is interpreted by some as “wanting power for sake of power” because woman cannot act in favour of state nation or dynasty – there’s only personal interest or power hunger. Her life is clearly framed as tragedy both by the “curse” of her witnessing the death of everyone she loved and her death being a parallel scene to her capture - because she was never truly free.

Interestingly, IMO Suleiman for all his talent and his achievements, fucked up the succession issue – succession by combat truly began to run its course during that period & no longer even fulfilled functions for which it was practiced – to put on the throne “the strongest” contender, one with the biggest support, also most successful military commander – while it’s true that era of conquest was naturally over and Empire had to become more sedentary, it still doesn’t make Selim the strongest or best suited candidate for the throne after Suleiman – his not going on campaigns etc. and being more of palace sultan had nothing to do with him recognising the transformation, but simply lack of interest in state matters and preferring to have fun than to rule. He wasn’t some demon, but he was terribly passive & lazy. And him not being a warrior was the least of his problems. Suleiman had extreme power and authority, he introduced first law reform after Mehmed the Conqueror – the fact that he allowed such contest (and well his sons didn’t even wait for his death to start a civil war) was a bad decision when it came to long-term planning. Some may say maybe he would have done something concerning move to seniority if one of Hürrem’s sons had been the eldest… maybe, but we will never know. Contrary, while all Ahmed’s sons died during Kösem’s lifetime, we know her legacy connected with anti-fratricide law lived on – after her death fratricide was a rare occurrence with only a few special exceptions in specific circumstances.

Of course there’s also the matter that Suleiman’s era and Kösem’s era were totally different – here it was even a success to manage to stabilise Empire. And here we need to stress how important context is – I always stress how important it is to assess historical figures in context – for me it’s hard to even compare, let’s say Kösem and Hürrem, because they lived in different ages and fulfilled different roles, let alone comparisons between historical figures from other parts of the world, perhaps even from different age. I can’t understand e.g. why Peirce compared Kösem and Turhan to Elizabeth I and Mary Stuart in Empress of the East – both situations were completely different, the only thing they had in common was that there was a power struggle between two powerful women, which ended with one of them executing the other (and we don’t even have 100% confirmation of Turhan ordering Kosem’s execution because such thing wasn’t officially in her power). I appreciate Peirce a lot, but TBH this comparison was just dumb for a professional historian.

Kösem’s case really shows how loss of innocence may be used as weapon against you – very early on, she gets the lesson even with Ahmed – the moment she first became involved with scheming following the death of her father, he got mad at her for the duration of her whole pregnancy – he didn’t ask why she had done it or any other details – she wasn’t his “ideal fantasy” from the portrait anymore and this was what mattered – and only then changed his mind when after so many futile attempts made by Kösem to talk to him, she finally forced him to listen to her explanations & motivations, and subsequently he became all “I will make everyone pay for every tear of yours & for making us endure pain of separation”. Ah okay, but don’t forget about yourself ;) And once Kösem stopped being “şehzade’s dream” with death of Ahmed and was truly her own political leader, she became to be more and more exposed to this with the passing of time and once she acquainted more and more power.

And don’t forget some male historians praising Turhan for “giving the power back to the rightful hands aka men”… it tells you all, and it’s false anyway, since it didn’t mean Turhan losing interest in state affairs and only caring about the harem (and honestly, “Köprülü was “her man”, she didn’t choose someone she had no influence upon). That was what she decided the Empire needed at that particular moment, not because she realised that politically involved women sucked lmao.

- Joanna

[thewhumperinwhite]

WKW: The Lion’s Mane

@faewhump​ @luminouswhump​ <3</p>

Previous: Here, here, and here.

TW for: minor character death, taunting wrt a loved one’s death (for a given value of loved one), uh decapitation also I guess.

(Also, in case it isn’t clear: the former king is Audoine, called The Lion Of Colomur; Colomur is the capital city and Craetalia is the country)

----

Morden Crane has worked hard to get where he is, and now he is ready to address the people of Colomur, whom he owns.

The more cooperative of the dead Lion’s guard have informed him that the old man has not addressed his people in years, appearing only at feasts and public fights. He has spoken through a Herald from the grand balcony for all official pronouncements, in the last year rarely even deigning to join him in the public view. That will do nicely; to hear of their new Sovereign from their old Herald is the sort of continuity he can imagine calming the common people, and at the moment it would be convenient for them to remain calm. He doesn’t only intend to conquer Colomur, he also intends to rule it; burning the city down will not lend itself for a livable long-term environment. Also, he finds killing unarmed citizens fairly boring except in special circumstances.

The Herald is not difficult to convince. Morden had thought it possible that his aura might not have the same automatic punch here that it does in Leisevan, where magic is rare and distrusted enough that the mere knowledge he can wield it makes him an immediate object of awe; Craetans have their quaint House Magics and he had resigned himself to a few days spent vaporizing servants or similar to establish himself as a magical presence, but apparently magically castrating the bearer of their House’s favor has done the trick, because the Herald’s token resistance crumbles the second Morden raises his eyebrows and lets his magic tinge the air slightly violet, and he practically begs to be Morden’s temporary voice. Morden nods, always gracious as long as it suits him, and wonders with private amusement if they know that cutting off the boy’s hand wouldn’t have done the trick on its own. It was pleasingly showy, he’ll grant; he ought to give Raven a raise.

Speaking of showy, here comes the little Prince himself, with Morden’s own Thorne leading him along and practically wagging his tail. Morden smiles at his Thorne, affectionately. The Summer Prince’s current appearance is ideal for the task at hand—clean, but swaying from exhaustion, looking younger than he is with his shorn hair and his manacled hands. His head is lowered respectfully, all the better to show the rings under his eyes from lack of sleep and the sharp cut of his cheekbones from starving himself. Morden has heard that the while no one would have dreamed of cutting the royal family’s rations, the prince put himself on the same limits as the soldiers out of solidarity. It’s all very romantic. He should have a painting commissioned.

“Very good, darling,” he tells Thorne, and Thorne’s face lights up like it did when he was twelve and Morden offered him a seat on his warhorse. “Unlock those manacles for me, won’t you?”

The Summer Prince looks up at him, surprised, while Thorne leaps to obey. Morden meets the Prince’s eyes, and watches him go still like a mouse mesmerized by a snake. 

“I’m inviting you to help me address your people, little Prince,” Morden says softly. “It’s a great honor for you, as I’m sure you can imagine. Also, a wonderful opportunity for you to tell them all how well you’ve been treated.” He narrows his eyes, just a little. “I’m putting their lives in your hands— well, hand.” That breaks his attempt at being serious; the little Prince’s stoicism is simply too charming for him not to laugh at it. “Do you understand, Prince of Summer?”

The little Prince looks at Morden, his pale Southern eyes wide and reflective, and then his face goes carefully blank and, bless him, he bows his golden head and says, “I understand, Your Majesty.”

Thorne blinks at the Prince in surprise; Morden feels a grin growing on his own face. He steps forward and slips one finger under the Prince’s chin, and raises his head to meet his eyes. The Prince lets him, his face utterly blank. “You remembered,” Morden says in a caressingly delighted tone, and it has the desired effect of sending a visible shiver of horror down the Prince’s spine, though in his triumph he is willing to give the little thing credit for covering it well.

“Darling,” Morden says to Thorne, “help him out onto the balcony with us, would you?” Thorne doesn’t even know the game he’s playing, dear thing, but he is so in tune with Morden’s desires that he puts his hand in the small of the Prince’s back and guides him forward in just the right way. Gods, Morden’s done some great fucking work with that boy, though he says it himself.

Morden looks out at the gathered crowd. They look, by and large, harried and exhausted (one would almost think they’d been “invited” out of their houses by large men with swords), and they watch Morden with wary tension when he emerges out onto the balcony. Then Thorne leads out their golden Prince, and there are audible gasps; someone in one of the buildings lets out a long wail like a paid mourner. It’s wonderful. Morden smiles at the Prince and opens an arm in a generous inviting gesture, and the Prince comes obediently to join him at the balcony rail, standing a respectful distance away. He really is very good at this; he was born to be a hostage. The Herald sidles nervously out after him, followed by Morden’s Falconers, a row of black behind their little tableau, just as a reminder.

Morden nods at the Herald, and the man stands desperately at attention and makes his pronouncement. Morden has let him compose it himself, figuring at worst he’ll have a reason to feed the man to the dogs these barbarians keep in the stables, but he does a perfectly adequate job, actually; perhaps Morden will keep him for a while. Morden watches the crowd, a few hundred eyes darting between him and their Prince, who stands with his head bowed, not looking at his people.

When the Herald is finished talking about their Gracious New Sovereign, Morden smiles broadly at Andry Fourshield and invites him to address the people.

The Prince looks at him, startled, and then blankly down at the people filling the square, a hundred hands clutched in front of a hundred patriotic breasts; at least fifty children hiding behind their mothers’ skirts, confused into silence by the tense silence of the square. For a moment his face creases as if in pain, but then it smooths out and he takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. When he speaks his voice is calm and just loud enough to carry.

“People of Colomur, and of Craetalia,” the Summer Prince says. “The House of Fourshield is grateful to you for your generations of service. We would not see you come to harm on our account.” Morden watches a few faces in the crowd crumple, in grief or disbelief. “Lord Crane has been merciful where he has had the opportunity.” He raises his voice, meeting the swimming eyes of several in the crowd. “We will all face hardships and restrictions in the coming days. The world we have known is changed. We— “ He cuts off, his voice breaking slightly; Morden could not have scripted it better. Then the Prince’s face hardens and he raises his head; despite his ruined hair and his bruised face, he looks every inch a Prince. “We will endure. We will endure this, as we always have.” He softens, looks down at the crowd directly in front of him, as if in apology, and finishes with a quiet, “Thank you.”

It’s perfect. The crowd quiets, the proudest of them cowed into silence by their Prince’s calm face and straight back. They are looking up at him with wide wet eyes, and it is clear that they love him. Morden can feel his good mood souring.

“Wise words,” Morden says, his voice just slightly amplified by magic to echo around the square; no harm in a few dramatics. “Your Prince says rightly that I have been merciful where I have been allowed. I have a gift for you all, so that you will not forget my mercy.” 

Morden turns back towards his Falconers. The Prince obligingly half-turns as well. Raptor, at their center, gives him a questioning look, and Morden indicates the Summer Prince with a slight nod of his head. Raptor nods and opens the large silk bag he has been holding and tosses its contents to the Summer Prince.

The Summer Prince is caught entirely off guard, and presumably the last time he tried to catch anything he had two hands; in any case he fumbles and would drop his father’s severed head entirely to the ground if Thorne did not helpfully catch it for him.

Thorne holds the Lion of Colomur’s head up over his head by its golden hair, grinning. Some of the gathered crowd scream. The Summer Prince does not, but he does go white to the lips and lose all his breath as though he’s been kicked in the stomach. And that’s enough for Morden, at least for now.

[southwindscoffee]

Um so I had an amazing year

You cannot get poor enough to help poor people thrive or sick enough to help sick people get well. You only ever uplift from your position of strength and clarity and alignment. – Abraham/Esther Hicks

 So.

 I had an amazing year.

 And I’m embarrassed to say it because I’m not dumb. (At least I hope I’m not.) I look around and can see suffering. Upheaval. Sickness. Poverty. I’m not denying those things exist or minimizing anyone else’s experience.

 But I wanted to share why I had an amazing year with the intent of uplifting someone else.

 Maybe you.

 I’m ending the year feeling happier, healthier, richer, more creatively fulfilled, and closer to my family than I have in a very, very long time. I credit this to a few small but key things—and overall, to one book.

 Last year about this time I listened to Atomic Habits by James Clear. I’ve lost track of how many copies I’ve bought of this book. Maybe four? At least two hardback copies, because I gave one away. Simply stated, the audio changed my life.

 Just—if you’re sick of listening to yourself complain about your bank account or weight or whatever, and you’re serious about changing things, go read/listen to this book.

 AND THEN ACTUALLY DO WHAT HE SAYS. The little, dumb, tiny changes. Because they add up.

 Last year I got sick of complaining about the same things year after year. And since I mostly complain in my journal or in my own head, it was a very boring place to be. I got sick of wondering why the balance in my bank account didn’t change, why I wasn’t losing weight, and why I wanted to write so much and wasn’t getting anywhere, even though I tried.

 But these things (richer, slimmer, more creative) were also what I really desired, deep down inside. I wanted to feel more financially stable, healthier (defined by weight loss), and to write more. (Well, I already wrote plenty. I wanted to write stuff and put it in public where people could actually read it.) These dreams felt very special and secret, but I think they’re somewhat universal—at least for authors.

 (Please note: I know that mental health can get in the way of taking any action at all. I’ve written about my depression and anxiety before. If this blog entry makes you feel overwhelmed, please know I’ve been where you are. Focus on taking care of yourself in whatever way you can and don’t worry about all this aspirational ambitious stuff I’m writing. Because the aspirational and ambitious can simply be getting out of bed and taking a shower. I’m proud of you for hanging in there.)

 After listening to Atomic Habits, I decided to do the following macro habits all throughout 2020—and I checked these off on a little grid in the James Clear journal:

 1. Take my vitamins.

2. Save $5 every day.

3. Write 10,000 words per week.

4. Post a blog entry every Wednesday and Saturday.

5. Go to the gym 3-5 times a week.

 I thought that these were things that could get me to my goals—richer, slimmer, more creatively fulfilled. And overall—happy.

 I also had some habits I already did. These were:

 1. Meditate for 10 minutes every day. (I usually use a guided YouTube video).

2. Write three pages longhand as Morning Pages (per Julia Cameron). (Incidentally, I’ve done this for decades and credit it to the reason I don’t get writer’s block.)

3. Take a Swedish lesson on Duolingo.

 I just wanted to keep these up.

 I have lots more habits … like brushing my teeth or whatever (and I actually floss because I bought the stuff and leave it out where I can see it), but the ones above are my more unusual habits.

 Well, what happened?

 1. I took my vitamins. Boring, but I’m also quite healthy, so maybe it helps my overall wellbeing. I haven’t been sick all year. I keep them by my bed where I see them and remember to take them.

 (Yes, I wash my hands all the time and don’t touch my face. And yes, I stayed home in quarantine. Yes, I wore a mask when I went out. But I think taking vitamins helped.)

 2. I ended up saving $5 every workday not every day. I either transferred the money to a Capital 360 account because it’s hard to transfer it back or put $5 into a Stash account. I sometimes would skip Starbucks or something similar and feel virtuous about transferring the $5. Other times I just transferred it.

 At the beginning of the year, the Capital 360 account had $5. It now has $806.

At the beginning of the year the Stash account had $50. It now has almost $2500. (Buying $5 here and there in March when the stock market was down ended up making about $500 over the year, a 23% increase.)

 Um, so that’s like $3200 I just kinda now have. Incidentally, $5 per day is $1825 over the course of the year, and I’ve almost doubled that because I invested it, not just saved it—and also sometimes I’d transfer like $10 or $25 if I was feeling wild. Over the months, I saw how the account balance would get close to an even number (like $500), so I’d transfer enough to make it that amount. And it just kept going.

 (Also, I’m not intending on this to be money advice. Go talk to someone who actually knows. My thought process was to hedge my bets with doing both safe and speculative—a savings account that earned interest and then various stocks. I also wasn’t spending money I needed for food, shelter, etc. I barely felt the expense, but I very much feel the accumulation of savings.)

 There really is magic in just starting to do something small, because it really does compound and snowball into good things. 

 Maybe in the grand scheme of things $3200 isn’t that much. To me it feels like I have this cute little cushion I literally created out of loose change in a year.

 Honestly, it feels like a lot, not “cute” or “little.” If I don’t compare myself to millionaires, it’s kind of amazing.

 What would happen if you transferred $1 or $2 a day? By the end of 2021, see how much you have…

 Another money habit: I wanted to stop buying so much online and one-clicking so many ebooks—even free ones—because it was just too much. I had like 800 unread books. So I kept track of the days I didn’t buy anything or download any books. My ecommerce moratorium ended up being streaks of time I didn’t buy anything and then a day where I would buy everything off of Amazon or whatever all at once. Not sure it did much except make me feel marginally better. With ebooks, while my TBR count is less than what it was at the beginning of the year, it isn’t the zero I’d hoped it to be. But I seriously read about 300-400 books—about 1-2 a day. (I read fast and don’t sleep.) My “read” pile jumped from 800 to 1100. Not sure what to make of it except I read so much and it was really fun. So, I still have about 680 books on my TBR pile for next year. That can be another habit to work on.

 3. I’ve written more than 530,000 words this year. The habit I tied it to incidentally, was opening my laptop. If I open my laptop—and that’s a habit I record with a tick mark on a grid—it’s a lot easier to get into the document and start writing. So the way I trick myself to write is I tell myself all I have to do is open my laptop. Simple. I check off the box that I did it and I feel virtuous. To reward myself for actually getting the word count, I have a little jar with binder clips in it and every 1,000 words I put a binder clip in a small old milk bottle. Then I can see the words add up.

 I also did a spreadsheet to know what I’ve written this year. I’ve never done one before because it felt too quantitative rather than qualitative. Writing is supposed to be this outlet for me, not something to beat to death with statistics. But I’m glad I did it because writing can be so amorphous. Putting parameters on it made it feel real.

 Oh, and I’ve finished one book, set to be published in February. I have a contract for another, and it’s (today) at 77,000 words. Three more books are 50% or more done. And I did NaNoWriMo. So, yeah. It was a productive year.

 I also learned that I like juggling projects. Focusing on one can make me stagnant. If I get stuck on one, moving to another really seemed to keep my momentum going.

 But I’m now focusing on getting them done and shipped. One at a time. Because they’re all just so close I can feel it.

 4. Before this year, I’d published eleven blog entries from 2017 to 2019. This year, I’ve posted 97, not counting this one. I missed a time or two at the beginning, but um, yeah… That’s a big difference.

 The reasons I wanted to focus on posting blog entries were multifold. I’d felt “out of it” as far as publishing, having worked on one book for so long that wasn’t gelling. I’d felt frustrated and jealous of those who got their work done. I needed the instant gratification—so to speak—of putting something out there while I worked on projects that took longer. I also wanted to inure myself to the fear of putting myself out there. With each entry—still—I feel fear, but I wanted to do it anyway. So that when the time comes to publish more fiction, I can go, “yeah, I’ve hit publish (literally) 100 times, what’s the big deal?”

 My guiding point for writing a blog post has been my gut feeling—tempered by wanting to reach out and help someone else. But to keep up a streak, there is a document on my computer called “Default blog post.” This is what it says in its entirety:

 Default blog post

 I told myself I just needed to post a blog every Wednesday and Saturday.

 Here is me keeping that promise.

 If you see that, well, you’ll know how the week is going.

 Is there an endgame here? What am I going to do with these blog posts? I can see me taking some ideas and expanding on them and creating some sort of nonfiction/self-help kind of book. I’ve always wanted to do that. I do see them as steppingstones to something bigger.

It also lets me be okay with imperfection. Typos. “Think-Os.” Whatever. This is me with no editor.

 5. So, the gym. Well, until it closed, I was going. My trigger was that I just had to check in. That was how I checked the box. Like opening the laptop, actually getting to the gym is the hard part. Once I was there, it was easy.

 But the gym closed and is still closed. Like all of us, I needed a Plan B. (C? D?)

 I’ve done short walks and long. Currently, I’m just working on doing pushups. I can do a lot of pushups with my knees on the ground. But I can only do a few “real” ones, so that’s what I’m keeping track of. I’m focusing on doing them slowly and properly, not faking my way through them. Faking them is easy, but I’d rather be able to do them right and have the actual arm strength. My trigger for when I do them is when I close my journal, I have to get down and do pushups. (Currently it’s seven.) To someone else that goal might be ridiculously easy. To me, it’s rather difficult and a little embarrassing to post, but whatever. I’m being honest.

 I’m ending the year a few pounds lighter than last year—and lighter than I’ve been in years—so I’m calling it a win.

 With the other habits, meditating keeps me happy as does dumping my brain in the morning pages. Oh, and I’m on day 622 in a row of Swedish on Duolingo. It feels like I’ve taken about a semester of college Swedish. Not enough to actually converse with someone but getting the hang of it. I’m motivated by a desire to go to Sweden and see some ancestral places—and actually understand some of the language, even though I know most Swedes speak better English than me.

 With COVID-19, like most of us, I’ve spent more time at home, but I’m temperamentally suited to that. I know it’s hurt extroverts hard, but as far as I’m concerned, I got to see my family more—even when I went to the office for work.

 What am I looking forward to next year? I like the habits I started for 2020. I just want to keep these systems up, because they seem to be working for me. I hope that by using these systems I end up with four to five books happily published in 2021 and I look forward to seeing how the exercise and money habits work out as well.

 This entry is about two or three times my usual blog entry, so if you made it this far, thank you. I hope it inspires you to take a small action and then keep taking that small action over and over again. They really do add up.

 I wish you the most amazing year ever in 2021. Know that it’s possible.