#said hail was FUCKING HUGE

[zibiscusloon]

Well in recent news I fucking hate hail

[tflaw]

— THE HANDMAIDEN.

In the frozen land where the outcasts belong and the peculiar is home, tomorrow is never promised. Intertwined your fate with the Harbingers might be, it’s in your best interest to remember: the cold swallows the weak and Snezhnaya knows no tears.

⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ f!reader. undertones of yandere. unprotected sex. power play. a hint of dark content so be wary! further warnings are written on each character’s part! not proofread.

PIERRO + breeding kink. lots of cum. unprotected.

it was the jester who first deemed a handmaiden like you worthy of attention. from simply picking you out in the throng of retainers in zapolyarny palace to exchanging curt greetings whenever you serve him tea, your existence slowly took shape in his mind. it was but a mere dot until he molded it into something bigger than yourself: he offered you status in exchange for fucking your pussy raw.

whenever pierro ruts into you ruthlessly, you think of it as his personal goal. the goal of needing to puff up your cunt with his fresh cum once his cock and balls begin to swell. pierro folds you in positions that give him access to your womb, where he dumps fat amount of cum after fat amount of cum. doing so much as pinning his balls to your folds and plugging your hole with his sheer size, pierro is adamant about not spilling a drop. and when your pussy does leak, he takes it upon himself to stuff you with another load double the amount of what you spilled.

some nights while you lay on his chest and with courage flickering like an ember in your heart, the urge to ask him why tips your tongue. but before your curiosity could materialize into verbal words, you would be reminded of where he truly hailed and what the circumstances are of said land. perhaps pierro fucks you with a need to get you pregnant as one way to spread his khaenri’ahn blood.

CAPITANO + womb fucking. in new york’s voice i know his dick big— i know it. size kink.

capitano thinks of you as a battlefield. in truth, you are nothing of the sort. not a wasteland of bodies emitting miasma putrid enough to destroy one’s stomach. it took him weeks chewing over the irony before surmising that his enticement has everything to do with his lusting for blood and annihilation. in his eyes, you are a battlefield he must conquer. unlike pierro who has given you status, capitano offered you strength in exchange for your little puffy pussy taking his huge cock.

don’t be scared, he’d whisper, it’ll fit. pressed against your stomach, no cock of such girth and length could ever fit in someone’s cunt. you feel so little in his arms, extremely so whenever you work your body down his whole length. and once he’s fully sheathed inside, with his fat crown pushing right into your womb and veins thick enough to stimulate, you shiver and sob. capitano is deep in your guts and he knows it, always drawing gentle circles on your back to allay the sting of having stretched your pussy out and to soothe the enfeebling sensation of his cock tip kissing your womb each gentle thrust.

many stories surround him, most of which are bone-chilling. they say capitano is the harbinger of death, and that hiding behind his mask is the skewed face of a monster hell spat out. you admit to believing the hearsay once, but calloused is his skin might be, you have never been touched by hands so gentle. consider it clemency, since you must not forget: capitano can easily break you if he so does will it himself.

DOTTORE + exhibitionism. voyeurism. creampie.

in zapolyarny palace, the name dottore typically sparks caution in the hearts of many. christened as the doctor, he is the paradox of warmth normally seen in someone in the field of medicine. you have done all that you could to be stationed somewhere else other than in his laboratory, but a handmaiden’s fate is as pliant as clay in the hands of those with power. therefore, when he offered you wisdom, all you could do was give him the same. wisdom that is through letting dottore’s segments completely fuck you witless in front of him.

he likes observing your face contorting with lewdness. watching drool racing down your chin, tits bouncing as one of his segments drills his cock into you from the back. there’s nothing more gratifying than biting your lips with your eyes rolling heavenward while your pussy sucks in cock after cock. he enjoys the sounds you make but loves popping his cock down your throat when your screams become too noisy for his liking. but when you come undone by having been fucked until your legs are shaking with thick amounts of cum spilling from your cunt, dottore finds himself admiring nothing else but the image before him.

he wouldn’t have thought that his sexual fantasies could be sated without venturing out to the nearest brothel. for that, he bestows you a chance to ask him two questions every time he fucks you. it is a deal sealed months ago that has benefited both parties involved. and dottore loves to keep things as it is. he’d continue doing so as long as you wouldn’t ask questions at the cost of your precious, precious life. it does not matter how much dottore adores you, he would never think twice.

PANTALONE + predator and prey dynamics. dubious content. nasty. he rubs your asshole. i’m sorry i was so horny while writing his part. creampie. drool. unprotected.

possessing mora enough to buy a whole region makes a man forthright in his intentions, be it pure or soiled with nothing but personal gain. because in the face of money, even the most deviant minds and sickest of hearts appear gilded. you have been proven of the warped reality when letters from your family burst forth in your chamber. each parchment contains fervent gratitude for a name that turned your blood gelid. mr. pantalone is a very kind man, indeed. please do not forget to thank him for the year’s worth of food he supplied us.

the first time you thanked him, pantalone fucked your pussy until the hole was gaping, as though asking for more. he completely owned you: mind, body, and soul. he pistoled his cock deep in your guts for hours, with his eyes rolling back to his skull and his cheeks tinted pink. at one point he almost cried overstimulating his cock tip by kissing your cervix and squirting bouts of cum in your womb. you’ve found out that he particularly prefers when you bounce on his thick shaft, squelching him dry while he gropes your tits and licks your nipples until his mouth is spilling out saliva. sometimes he would rub your asshole as you come around his cock, because he revels whenever your pussy pulses around his girth to milk his balls sapped of cum.

as a man with unparalleled wealth, pantalone sure likes to count. he’s skilled at keeping scores, striking a line on your inner thigh with a glaring ink for every round where he leaves your cunt cum-filled. with each line equivalent to ten million mora. you’d enter pantalone’s chamber every week as a handmaiden, then come out a wealthy one— albeit powerless. regardless of how blinding mora is, it must not hide the truth from you: pantalone, the richest man of all, can take your opulence just as easily as he gave it.

CHILDE + mindbreak. protected sex. condom used. childe is feral. drool.

childe, the 11th of the harbingers, is appreciated by many if not all. an unusual sight in zapolyarny palace, yet the warmest one. he is a glorious warrior, especially when wielding his weapon. a sight worthy of awe, for he moves with precision and speed that are not of this world. owning aberrant strength, childe is meant for blood and glory. and he evinces it all by providing you security whenever you prove just how formidable of a harbinger he is behind closed doors.

drool on the pillows, hands barely hanging on to the sheets, with your mind spinning after hours and hours of childe drilling his cock into you until your stomach flattens on the bed. he pounds your pussy vehemently, shifting positions every time to abuse your sensitive spots. feet over his shoulders, knees against your chest, missionary, name it all. he’ll fuck you in ten different positions each night to break your sanity. and every time he slides his cock out of your wet cunt with his fat and heavy cum pulling the rubber down his twitching shaft, he ties the condom around your legs as proof of his strength.

what makes a warrior is his stamina, and childe would do anything to prove that he’s a formidable one. be it through fighting or fucking, he has yet to fail in either of those aspects. he has dominated you more than once. it is you who willingly walked in on his life like a vulnerable mouse sauntering to a viper’s maw. you have no one else but yourself to blame for the venom in your veins.

SCARAMOUCHE + voyeurism. perv!scaramouche.

scaramouche is his name and he’s the most enigmatic of all. some whispers say that it is merely a moniker to conceal his identity. to bury his past, to birth him anew. vexed with more than half of the zapolyarny palace, the quiet places and shadows are his companions. you think he hates you, too, for none could be spared from scaramouche’s temper. but unlike everyone else, he has found something quite entertaining in you. regardless of its nature, you have not exactly been favored by the harbinger. he remains truthful to his ill temper no matter the circumstances.

when you part your thighs before him, shaking fingers while playing with your pulsing clit, the way he stares burns at your skin. there is humor in his eyes. as though the way you pump two fingers in your wet and untouched cunt serves as peak amusement for him. perhaps it is, perhaps it is not. scaramouche has mastered the schooling of his expressions, sticking only to that of pure malice even if he has you bared before him. he loves commanding you to touch your cunt with your legs extended wide, or pinch and rub on your clit until you’re shaking at where you sit. sometimes he’d tease and tug at your nipples, but he has never gone further than that. and you fear that he never will.

brewing between you is one crooked relationship. scaramouche has not any need for you other than to satisfy his odd fantasies. he has been forthright from the beginning about his intentions, saying that he merely wants to see for himself what’s so special about a handmaiden like you that has the other harbingers on their knees. all his provocations hold with them a promise, and that perhaps one day, scaramouche will try and seek out the answers for himself. but that day is not today.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i literally have no idea what this is, or where it came from but here's a thing:

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,043 | rated: M (will be E in next part)

Eddie Munson was not Steve’s bi awakening, okay? He wasn’t.

He just happened to be standing in the middle of Family Video dressed like his bi awakening (and it didn’t help that he already had an embarrassingly huge crush on the guy).

Steve had come out of the back none the wiser to what he was about to see, glancing up from the tape he was carrying for someone who’d called earlier. His eyes met big, clunky, worn-in cowboy boots, long lean legs (and very nice ass–damn, they’ve got one of those stupid bandanas in their back pocket too) in classic Levis so tight they looked like they were painted on, the back of leather jacket (--hold on), and the back of a head of long, wild-looking, sun-kissed, yet still dark hair.

After his seconds-long oogling, Robin, who was chatting with Bon Jovi’s twin at the counter, glances behind him at Steve. 

Bon Jovi tries to turn and look back without taking himself off the counter, but when that insane hair of his gets in the way, he shoves up off the counter and spins on one heel.

“Munson? Where the hell’ve you been?” Steve thanks whatever it is up there that the surprise of seeing Eddie again temporarily suspends his frazzled ‘hothothothothot’ thoughts about his friend enough to respond normally.

“Damn, Stevie, been gone all summer and all I get is a ‘The hell’ve you been’?”

“Of course, asshole, you’ve been gone All. Summer.” Steve says, finally getting to the counter himself and dropping the tape on it. He scoops Eddie up in a tight hug, one long won from their month of recovery post-Vecna.

Everything went fine, Vecna was dead, the upside-down sealed away, but they hadn’t all left unscathed. Specifically Steve and Eddie, both of whom ended their spring break from hell nursing bat wounds, and closer than ever before. 

Then, after finally graduating, being hailed a hero for “saving” Max and Dustin from the real killer (thank you, suspicious government people), Eddie was hauled out of Hawkins by his Uncle, the former of whom got just enough time for a quick ‘Gotta go, Wayne wants me helping out at the farm this summer,’ before he was gone.

“I told you I would be, Harrington,” Eddie says once Steve sets him back down on his own two feet.

“So what happened? Where’ve you really been?”

Eddie raises a brow, “At the farm. Like I said.”

“Okay, well, excuse me for thinking it may have been the same 'farm' my parents said my childhood dog was sent off to.”

“You think my Uncle was gonna take me upstate to shoot me dead?”

“Obviously not, dumbass, but what other goddamn reason would you, Eddie Munson, have to be on a farm. Like with cows and stuff?”

“Though the sun did you some favors,” Robin cuts back in.

And isn’t that the truth. Up close now (and letting himself look), Steve could see how Eddie’s normally dark hair and pale complexion were now sun-kissed and so well be-freckled that it sent his stomach for another rollercoaster ride.

“Yeah, Munson, you planning on keeping the blond around?” Steve teases, picking up a strand of sun-lightened hair off Eddie’s shoulder and giving it a short tug.

“I don’t know, I’m not really used to how light…”

Whatever Eddie says after that is completely drowned out by ringing in Steve’s ears because Eddie stretches an arm up to paw at the top of his head and he’s wearing a crop top.

He’s wearing a goddamn crop top under his jacket, some band tee that looks like he’d hacked off himself..and are those abs?? God damn he is so fine. It’s not fucking fair. Who does he think he is running around like Steve’s own personal wet dre–

“Holy shit.”

He couldn’t help it. The words just fell out of his mouth.

“H-holy shit, you’ve got abs, Eddie!”

‘Thank you, Robin.’ Steve thinks at her absently since his brain is completely preoccupied..

“Wha–? Oh! Yeah! Check me out, huh?!” Eddie grins wide, lifting his shirt just a bit more to show off the toned expanse of stomach. 

Steve’s mouth goes bone dry.

“And that’s not all,” Eddie says. He drops his shirt and shucks the jacket off his shoulders.

His very well sculpted shoulders.

And arms.

And oh god those hands. Steve could hear the soft scrapes of rough callouses against the leather when Eddie threw the garment onto the counter beside him and his only thought was about how they might feel against his skin..

Still beaming, Eddie flexes one, then both arms, his biceps bunching under more tanned skin. “I got a lot of ‘lifting heavy things and putting them back down again’ in over the summer.” he continues, “I’m probably stronger than you now, Harrington.”

“Ha haha, right..yeah. Robin, can you excuse us for a second?”

Steve doesn’t wait for her response before he grabs Eddie around one of those absolutely delicious biceps and hauls him through the store and out the back door.

He lets a grinning Eddie go as soon as they’re through the back door, taking a couple steps away towards the woods behind their building, and trying to calm down with measured breaths.

When he does turn around, Eddie’s stood away from the door, one hip cocked out and his arms crossed across his chest.

The grin on his face has melted down into a smirk though, and the look in his eyes is less teasing and more cautious.

Steve steps back up close to the other man, and literally starts to circle him like a shark. Scanning his eyes up and down Eddie’s body as he does.

“What’s goin’ on Stevie? Looking for some style tips?” he jokes.

Steve doesn’t answer, and starts his second cycle around his friend.

“You know, maybe get rid of some of those polos?” Eddie sounds just a bit more unsure this time.

Steve’s behind Eddie’s right shoulder when he speaks again. “You think you can barge back in after all this time, looking like that,” Steve comes around to stand in front of Eddie again, “And not expect me to react?”

Eddie grins wickedly again, and steps back at the same time Steve steps forward.

“Expect me to not want to devour you whole?”

“You expect me to want that, big boy?” Eddie says as he’s pressed between Steve and the closed back door.

Steve rears back immediately, “Shit, Eddie, I’m sor–”

“‘Cause I do.” Eddie grabs hold of Steve and spins them around, pressing the younger man back against the door instead. “Ohhh boy, do I want that.”

Steve groans as Eddie slots their hips together, “You really are a big boy, aren’t you sunshine?”

“The things I’m gonna do to you..” Steve growls out, Eddie’s jaw snapping open with his words.

They’re both startled away from the back door when Robin bangs on it, “You’ve got five minutes to get back in here before I drag you back in! It’s Friday and we’re about to get busy!” she yells through the door.

He hears her converse squeak on the tile inside the door as she heads back to the front, then chances a look at Eddie.

He looks as red as Steve feels, from the bit of his face he can see from behind the hair he holds over it.

“Eddie–”

“It’s cool, Harrington,” he wheezes out a dry laugh, glancing over at him, “Better get in for the rush before Robin comes back.

He reaches for the handle again, but is stopped short by a hand on his wrist.

“Listen, Eddie.” Steve says, giving the other man’s arm a soft tug to get him to turn around. “I may have gotten a little…over enthusiastic…”

Eddie’s face scrunches up in a weird way.

“No! Not in a bad way, unless you weren’t as into it as I was–doesn’t matter! Point is, I may have gone a little crazy, but I wasn’t faking it.”

“I don’t think guys can fake it, Steve-o.” Eddie jokes softly, a small smile on his face.

Steve chuckles just as soft, “Shut up man, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“I think you do.”

“I dunno Steve," Eddie shrugs sarcastically, "You’re quite an enigma.”

“Okay, fine, here’s it spelled out for you: I am super into you.” Steve puts up a finger to stop whatever it is Eddie was about to say, “Hold on– I am bisexual, have been for a while and would like to try this..with you. If you want.”

“You gotta be more specific on what ‘this’ is, sunshine.” Eddie steps close to him once again.

Steve smirks, walking Eddie backward to the door again with both hands on his waist. Once he’s got him pressed back against the warm metal, he scoops the hair away from Eddie’s ear and holds it out of the way with a hand on the back of his neck.

He leans in, whispering right into Eddie’s ear. “I want to take you apart, Eddie.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath and Steve can feel the man’s heart hammering against his own chest.

“I want to suck you down, eat you out, and fuck you into next Tuesday.” He states, nipping on his earlobe for good measure before pulling back. 

Steve takes in Eddie’s flushed face, his eyes blown out they’re almost completely black, his chest heaving.

“I’d also like to totally romance you and date the fuck out of you, but…” he shrugs, grinning as Eddie smacks his chest lightly with a laugh of his own.

“I’m serious though, Eddie. I want this.”

Eddie’s smile falls slightly. “You sure about the whole dating thing, Harrington? You know you can’t date me for real..like in public and shit.”

Steve shrugs, “I know, but… I don’t think I’d survive something casual with you, Eddie.”

Eddie lets out a breath like he’d been punched.

He takes back in a deep breath, then pulls Steve flush to him again.

“I think that sounds amend—-”

Eddie’s forehead smashes into Steve’s nose when Robin shoves the door open behind Eddie.

“Damn! I knew the door was a bad idea.” Steve says, his voice coming out nasally from where he’s pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Time’s up, Dingus, get your fruity butt inside.”

Eddie chuckles after her, leading Steve inside. “You shouldn’t tip your head back, lean forward and let it drain out.”

“Ugh, you sure? I’ll get blood all over me,”

“I’m sure, sweetheart, I’ve had a few bloody noses in my time.”

“Here,” Robin says once they reach the counter.

Steve takes the offered tissues, and soaks up the small trickle of blood.

“You still wanna date me if my nose is crooked?” he asks Eddie, who’s (sadly) shrugging his coat back on.

He pretends to think for a moment. “Sorry Stevie, that’s a dealbreaker. Even if it was my forehead what done it.”

“Ugh you’re such a dweeb, I don’t know what you see in him, Steve.”

“He’s hot, okay? And he’s still hot even after he rejected me just now.” Steve states matter-of-factly while shoving a wad of tissue into the one nostril still bleeding.

“You think I’m hot?”

“Very.”

“No, you’re gross. You guys are both gross.”

“Oh Birdie, you should've heard the things he was saying to me outside; all ‘Ooh Eddie, your muscles are so big and so is your hair and also your di—’”

“OKAY! That’s enough of that!” Steve cuts him off, pushing the still grinning Eddie toward the door, then, a softer: “Yours or mine after I’m off?” once they’re at the door.

“Definitely yours, unless you want Wayne to be privy to our shenanigans.”

“Yeah, that’s a no. Also, shenanigans? Really? You’re a super dweeb.” Steve smirks, pushing his boyfr— frien— Eddie out the front door. “I’m off at four, see you at five?”

Eddie fumbles backward over the curb but manages to catch himself, “It’s a date, Steve.”

He watches Eddie climb up into his van, and follows its path down the road and out of sight with a dreamy sigh.

“You still have tissues in your nose, Dingus.”

part 2/2 here | and on AO3!

definitely inspired by this post from @sparrowtapes

[strongheartneteyam]

His little breeding slut.

Pairing: dilf!Jake Sully x female!human!younger!reader

CW: established relationship, reader loving jake's belly, a bit of fluff, praising kink, p in v, use of "daddy", "babygirl" and "princess", breeding kink, dom Jake x sub reader, creampie, missionary position

It's been a while since the last time I wrote for Jake but this pic in the middle gave me WILD THOUGHTS 🥺🧎🏻‍♀️💕 so this is what came out of it lol all hail Dilf!Jake and his dad bod 🤤🤌🏻💓

na'vi words: muntxate (female mate), yawntutsyìp (little loved one)

Slightly proofread.

•

"You like my belly, don't you? You always put your little hands on it when I'm fucking you missionary" Jake smirked and chuckled, pleased with the dumb way you were looking at his soft belly, your eyes completely bewitched by his delicious body and both your hands over his abdomen.

"You know I do, Daddy. It's so soft, so good to touch..." You mewled.

"You're so cute, babygirl" He chuckled tenderly as he slowly but steadily thrusted into you.

"Thanks, Daddy" you said in a cute voice and gave him a smile, as you felt his cock coming in and out of you, your pussy clenching.

Jake suddenly thrusted his huge cock harder into your pussy, his large tip suddenly reaching your womb, taking a surprised cry of pleasure out of you. His tip leaked so much precum inside your cervix and he couldn't wait to cum inside his little breeding slut.

"Daddy wants to breed you, princess. Does my muntxate want to carry my baby?" He enquired while he pounded your pussy even harder this time, his soft striped thighs slightly jiggling as they crashed into the softness of your own thighs.

"Yes, Daddy, please." You pleaded while gazing at his face with furrowed eyebrows.

"Say it like I taught you to." Jake grunted in a demanding tone.

"Please, breed me, Daddy. Please, put a baby on me..." You loved when he made you beg. It turned you on even more.

"That's right, babygirl. You make Daddy proud." His voice was shaking with sheer pleasure as he felt your warm, wet pussy milking his cock just so fucking well.

A few rough thrusts later, Jake let out a hoarse and loud groan as a strong load of his thick warm cum filled your insides.

He came out of you and a bit of his white seed was leaking from your pussy into the mat.

"We're gonna have to clean this mess, yawntutsyìp." Jake laughed, breath still heavy, as he shook his head from side to side, his fangs escaping from under his upper lip, making you think how insanely beautiful and charming your mate was. Jake would never stop making you sigh out of love and admiration of his beauty, even if the both of you had been mated for quite some time now.

•

Taglist:

@yeosxxx

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch - LiTA (Rain/Payu) 1

Because I'm petty, I had the crowd pick which blacklisted shows I would watch for the month of Pride. I had planned to space them out more, but due to wacky weather over here (tornadoes, thunderstorms, softball-sized hail, and flash flooding), I had plenty of time to binge watch the first show, Love in the Air, which perfectly aligns with my real life theme of stormy weather, so I'm posting my random thoughts in five parts, two for each couple and the special episode.

I'm seated, I'm watching, and I'm being petty.

It starts at "2:00 AM" - Oh no. Nothing could happens at 2 in the morning, and the time just keeps going. This event isn't even going to begin until 3 AM?! Take me home, NOW! I don't care how fine these men are. I'm stopping for mini churros at Jack in the Box on the way home and going to bed. I'M OUT!

I've seen plenty of pictures of Boss in the past two years, but I still lost my breath a bit when he took off his mask because he was looking delicious in the rain.

RAIN WANTS A GIRL?!

Out of everything I saw about this show, NOBODY mentioned that Rain was trying to get a girl. I'm shook. That's a huge part of the plot I never saw mentioned. There were rumors of the actor (Noeul) being with Milk (of MilkLove), and I saw more of THAT in connection to this show than about him liking a girl within it. Where are y'alls priorities?! *looks at Tonnam and breathes deeply*

Payu's room is IN the garage? But what about the fumes? What about the noise? What about a good work/life balance?!

😬😬😬

I don't care if this boy is snuggling in his sleep, Payu is on my shit list! Instead of being like "oh, I misunderstood the signals," he pushed harder then got upset. Even if Rain secretly does want him, I need a verbalization. This is the end of the first episode, and I'm mad as hell at a bisexual on the first day of Pride. Damn.

Start of episode two and I know Rain's voiceovers are there to make me not be upset at Payu, but . . . I'm pissed at this man! He did all of that work, said it was free, but now there is "another" charge, then he shows up at this boy's school when he could've just talked to him at the shop, and feels him up in the bathroom stall. I am BIG mad!

I will admit, this is hot. Still very mad at my fellow bisexual for him saying he wasn't trying to force himself on Rain (even though he was about to mark a map on that boy's neck), but they got chemistry.

My fellow Slut for Christ, only God can judge you, but know that I am too.

All racetracks look the same so Pit Babe and Cutie Pie could have been filmed here for all I know, but I have this at 1.5 speed, unmuted, so I hear this is a legit hype rap song. WEARETHEGOOD's "Threat" with these colors?! Energy? Matched.

HE IS SPANKING HIM?!

I don't kink shame but both people should be willing participants in this endeavor. Then just to drop him on the floor like that?! That does not inspire trust! This is not Blue Boy behavior, sir! But this lecture after is. That is what I need from you. Remind him that this isn't some petty school shit but actual gangstas he is messing with. Remind him that he can't be reckless. THAT'S HOW BLUE BOYS GET KISSED!

Now it's a competition? Payu wants to fuck Rain so badly he looks stupid, yet Rain is over here saying he is going to make Payu want to fuck him, what? harder? What is this all about?!

What do you mean you didn't want to show Rain your bad side? Has all this been your good side up until this point?! Cause, dead ass, this side ain't looking that great either with you being upset you weren't sleeping with him on the first night and stalking him. So you're going to get worse?

Y'all can't sucker me in with red and blue colors. I Told Sunset About You tried that, and I'm still being petty about it. But whose house are we at now?! This is a different room than before. Payu got multiple places?! In this economy?

Prapai strolling in all happy because he had a good night . . . Sir, I'll get to your ass soon because I know how you got that happiness, and you are on the same shit list as your fellow bisexual bestie.

I am Sky and our judgement cannot be measured.

TWINS?!

All this blue between these two yet they are straight up lyin' every two seconds. The fuckery.

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!

I would've let him turn it in, but I appreciate that he looks so good while looking so sad with that warm glow.

Payu gets one positive point for leaving his arms open for Rain to come to him, but now that warm glow feels sus like maybe I should be paying more attention to Rain's yellow/orange backpack.

And now for a negative point because even though I keep seeing black x white, Payu stays morally grey by playing with this boy's emotions and hiding from him in his own shop! These after scenes are not doing Payu any favors.

Payu, do I like you? Do I hate you? Do I wanna fuck you? Do I wanna kick you in the balls? All of the above?

Guess I'll find out in the next three episodes.

[sexhaver]

competitive Melee is a deeply inherently funny esport mostly because of Mang0. at his peak he would spend the days leading up to a tourney shit-talking on SmashBoards, then show up slam dunk drunk and win the entire bracket in the most disrespectful way possible. two specific disrespectful moments stand out:

Mang0 (Fox) vs SFAT (Marth) (skip to 3:25 if the timestamp doesn't work)

it's game 1 of a best of 3 set. Mang0 is at 4 stocks, while SFAT is already down to 2 and getting actively combo'd. someone in the audience, as a joke, shouts out "use the laser!". for context:

Falco's laser is one of the best projectiles in the game because it does hitstun, meaning it can interrupt enemies out of their attacks

however, Mang0 is playing Fox, not Falco. Fox's laser is mostly like Falco's, except instead of being good, it is not good. Fox's laser has absolutely 0 hitstun and takes a while to pull out and shoot. this means pretty much the only time it gets used in competitive play is to spam it during the neutral to hopefully rack up some damage without actually interrupting anything

not only is shooting SFAT with the laser while he's offstage a suboptimal choice, it gets even funnier when you realize that the obvious combo finisher anyone else would use there is Shine. Fox's shine comes out on literally frame 1, gives him intangibility, sends the enemy sideways in a way that's basically impossible to recover from offstage, and can be jump canceled on frame 2. Shine is not just the best move to use in this specific instance, it's not just Fox's best move, it's not just the best move in Melee, it is arguably the strongest move on any character in any fighting game ever made.

so of course Mang0 uses the laser instead of shining. the crowd goes apeshit, he finishes off SFAT's last remaining stocks in literally 15 seconds (demonstrating the actual power of Shine on the final stock). even though it's game 1 and he can theoretically make a comeback, SFAT is so humiliated by this that he literally just unplugs his controller and walks off stage. also this was during the era when Melee wasn't being streamed to a huge audience or sponsored or anything so the casters just said whatever the fuck they wanted, which gave us gems like "UNPLUG YOUR CONTROLLER, DAWG! FORFEIT!" and "WOMBO COMBO!!!!"

Mang0 (Jigglypuff with crown) vs HungryBox (Jigglypuff with headband) (relevant bit starts at 2:31)

for full context, Mang0 (along with most of the rest of the Smash community) and HungryBox had had a shitload of beef in the years leading up to this match. HBox famously used/still uses Jigglypuff, which pissed/pisses off other players because that playstyle is infuriating to face off against. you either get hit with rising aerial Pound 20 times in a row offstage or upthrown into a frametrap rest for instakills starting at 30%. because he is a deeply funny person, Mang0, of course, also chose Jigglypuff. he then proceeds to mop the fucking floor with HBox. the entire set is brutal but the bit i highlighted is the worst by far. HBox is down a stock and goes for a Hail Mary up-tilt into Rest combo. it might have worked if Mang0 was a bit more damaged and stayed in hitstun longer, but it misses. missing a Rest with Jigglypuff is an invitation for the opponent to use their strongest possible move/combo for free in any matchup, but it's probably the worst in the mirror match* because the other Jigglypuff can just Rest you right back for free. which is what Mang0 should have done here if he wanted to win.

instead, he just. jabs HBox. doing no damage or knockback and waking him up for free.

comparing the audience reaction from this match to the previous one is so fucking funny, because with the former, you could hear everyone laughing and losing their shit, but this is just... a collective gasp at Mang0's audacity. the commentators are struck dumb for a few seconds before saying "Mang0. that's disrespectful to everyone. to HungryBox. to me. to you..." before being interrupted by HungryBox killing himself to end the match and walk away

*yes, I know Roy can reverse his up-B on frame 1 to kill sleeping Jigglypuff from 0% on Pokemon Stadium. however, if you know this factoid, you also know that Roy is literally never used in competitive because he is Marth but with all the good traits replaced with bad ones, so stop being a smartass

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Ten.

Huge thanks to the few of you still invested in this story. I'd love to hear from a few others who are reading it, too, if you'd be so kind as to leave a little comment?

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,430

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Baby love, you’re quiet,” he called, walking around from the lounge and into the kitchen after finishing his call, finding the space empty. “Jade?”  

Silence. Had she gone for a bath, and he not noticed? Checking the bathroom, he found nothing but an empty room, the same with the bedroom and her mini studio. Going back into the kitchen again, he pulled his phone out, scrolling to hit her number. It was while the call was simply ringing out that he noticed a letter next to her untouched glass of wine, picking it up. As soon as he began to read, he cut the call, concentrating on the contents.  

With every word he read, his heart sank with a led weight, his forehead creasing further. “Lady, you’ve gotta nerve.” he whispered into the nothingness of the kitchen, putting the letter down again and picking his phone up. Still no answer from Jade. Fuck.  

He knew exactly what this would have done to her, bringing back an event he knew she hadn’t truly processed and moved on from, seeing the bomb that had been Polina suggesting even for a second that any of it had been her fault. Her son was a steroid junkie whose actions had finished his relationship; Jade could have been absent for more than she was, and his choices wouldn’t have been her fault. It made his anger prickle sharply to read even the mere inkling of anything to the contrary.  

What was more, her words would only solidify the fact that Jade more than likely did blame herself for what had happened. If she didn’t, then it would be very untrue to form, but he couldn’t know for sure since she hadn’t ever really opened up to him about it beyond one brief conversation. All he did know was that emotionally, she was now likely climbing the walls, and out on the streets alone.  

Picking up his keys, he left the apartment, wracking his brains as he strode down to the elevator, trying to remember her haunts. Conveniently, most were in SoHo, just a five-minute ride away from her building, Adrien hopping into a cab. He tried The Back Room first, then The Library, both missing the blonde his eyes tried to pick out among the patrons.  

Lighting a cigarette outside of the second location, he stood and thought for a few moments, taking stock. He was a mixture of worried for her welfare, and slightly pissed off that she hadn’t gone straight to him about it. She always said how much she trusted and loved him, but these actions didn’t back that up.  

It wasn’t about him, though.  

Feeling his insides begin to coil further, he paced back and forth slowly, trying to remember other places where she might go, her little ports in a storm. Of course. 

“Where we heading, my guy?” the cabbie he hailed asked as Adrien climbed in. 

“Shark Bar, Nolita.”  

“Can do, bud.” 

It was colloquially named as such because of the shark motifs that hung upon the wall, the actual name of the establishment Spring Bar, a place he’d visited with her one afternoon shortly after Christmas. They’d sat at the bar sinking tequila shots before going back to hers and having horny, drunken sex for most of the evening, and at the bar was exactly where he found her upon entering, sliding onto the stool beside her.  

It took her a moment to look up from her large glass of iced Jack Daniels and notice him there, sheepishness crossing her sad features as she cast her eyes downwards with a sigh. “Am I really that obvious?” 

“Yep.” His tone was a little flat, Jade looking back up at him to see his brows knitting. “When you bolted, you went in the fucking wrong direction.” The bartender then arrived, placing a napkin down. “Stolichnaya, double. No ice.”  

“Right away.” 

He nodded in thanks, turning back to her. “I don’t need to ask you if you’re alright, because I know you’re not, and I won’t make this about me being pissed off that you ran away instead of coming to me. Saying that, though, we need to talk about this. You need to talk about it, the contents of the letter that fucking thoughtless woman felt compelled to send to you on her asshole son’s behalf.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Well, you kinda have to,” he spoke, taking the glass placed before him and sinking it in one, requesting a refill he immediately received, “because I’m done with watching it chip away at you, the way you stuff everything down and refuse to talk about it. And don’t you dare say it doesn’t, baby. You might be able to hide it from others without consequence, but you can’t with me.”  

Her lip began to wobble, feeling discomfort slither against her insides, like an eel angrily thrashing within her belly. It should have been comforting, that the man next to her really, really saw her, but to Jade, it was scary as hell. “Not here.”  

“Alright,” he spoke, tipping the contents of the glass down his throat before he stood. “Drink up.” 

She did, sliding off the stool as he left a handful of bills atop the bar, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tightly, thumb rubbing a soft circle. It told her that yes, while he was pissed off with her, his love still shone through the brightest.  

It didn’t stop her from being scared to death, though, her mind immediately sending support pillars to the emotional wall she’d built within, desperate for fortification. They arrived back twenty minutes later, Jade walking straight to the sideboard where she kept her liquor bottles, picking up the bourbon and a couple of glasses. “Do you want a drink?” 

“Nope,” he spoke, flopping down on the couch. “I want you to sit here and fucking tell me everything you’re pushing down, because I know I’m not getting the full picture. I also want to know why you don’t deal with it, deny yourself the perfectly fucking human act of properly acknowledging whatever it is that’s bugging you.” 

“I do deal with it, just differently,” she shrugged, sitting down next to him. 

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “No, you don’t. I know it, so does Jen, too. I don’t get it either, because short term annoyances, you speak your damned mind immediately! You deal with it right there and then, and I admire you so much for it because in that respect, you’re definitely more forthright than I am. When it hits you deeper, though, you run from it,” he explained, Jade feeling her heart beginning to pound.  

“I don’t run, I -” 

“Yes, you fucking do! Quit being in denial over it, Jade!” Immediately, he felt bad for yelling at her, seeing her eyes turning glassy. She had to hear it, though. He’d reached the end of his tether at watching her beginning to crumble from it. Her meltdown and fleeing her apartment that evening had been the final straw for him. “I don’t want to yell at you about this but fuck, baby. You can’t keep torturing yourself like this.” His eyes searched hers for some kind of answer, but she wasn’t forthcoming, gripping his hand as she rested her head down on her knees.  

She had to tell him. Somebody other than her had to know what she held within, what she hadn’t spoken of to another soul, that nobody other than she and her ex knew. It was with bravery, but crippling fear that she took a deep breath and finally spoke it aloud.  

“Three months before Ivan beat me, I found out I was pregnant. We wanted to wait before telling anyone just to be sure, so we did, but sadly I miscarried at six weeks. He blamed me and my busy work schedule, said it was my fault. I think that’s ultimately why I got a beatdown, because he couldn’t keep in how livid he was that our baby died before it was even a baby at all.”  

A cold wave washed right through him, pulling his hands from hers, wrapping her in his arms instead. “Fuck,” he breathed, stroking her hair, strong hands gripping her tightly. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, baby love.” She rested her head back to her knees, sobbing quietly while reliving it all, feeling comforted by the warmth of his arms and the kisses he laid against the centre of her back.  

“You cannot for one fucking second think that it was your fault, you can’t,” he spoke softly, making her sit up. “It wasn’t, and it didn’t warrant you being attacked by him. It wasn’t your fault, Jade.”  

“But it was, though!” she cried, shaking her head. “Even if it wasn’t anything I did or didn’t do to lose our baby, I should have seen it coming. I should have gotten out of there quicker and then maybe I wouldn’t have ended up with pins holding my cheekbone together! I should have known he’d never forgive me for it! I should have seen it coming with Jen as well, instead of ignoring that she was spiralling because I couldn’t deal with it, and now, now I’m terrified I’m going to miss something coming with you that means ultimately, I’ll lose you.” 

There it was, her emotional dam finally bursting, Adrien seeing what had been lurking within that she’d so desperately been trying to ignore. She blamed herself for things she truly didn’t have any control over, and then couldn’t deal with how that made her feel, attempting to do the impossible and thus finding absolutely no resolve over what was emotionally crippling to endure. It was hard because she made it hard, rather than facing it rationally.  

“Honey, you’re not going to lose me because of something you didn’t see coming. If we have problems, at least from my perspective, I'll be straight up and tell you. I’m big on communication,” he began, Jade cutting in. 

“But what if I mess it up somehow and that doesn’t happen, and...” 

“Hey, come on. You’ve gotta calm down. The only way you’re gonna mess things up is if you keep on doing this, having meltdowns because you can’t deal with everything you avoid, and then it bubbles up and you don’t have a clue how to see your way through it. You have to trust me enough to be there for you, talk to me about things, not see it as weakness. Because I think you do, don’t you?”  

She couldn’t meet his eyes, Adrien knowing he was finally breaking down a wall, gentling a little as he took her hand in his again. “What Ivan did to you was not your fault. Jen OD’ing was not your fault. Thinking you could even control that for a second won’t lead you to anything good, but talking about it until you feel better, even if it isn’t to me – although I’d prefer it if you did – will lead to you to good things.” 

She winced a smile, shaking her head. “How the hell you want to be with an emotional headcase like me, wow. I don’t know. I’d get out now if I were you.” 

“Nope, won’t be doing that,” he spoke, hand tightening on hers, “and you can fucking stop throwing bombs at me because you don’t know how to deal with something good happening to you. Because deep down, you don’t think it’s real unless it’s a mess.”  

Another brick tumbled free from the wall. 

“You’re right,” she finally acquiesced, “I do that. I see myself doing it, and I try to stop myself. I think I push the self-destruct button, to stop myself from becoming hurt. Can’t trust that you’re not going anywhere when all the signs point to the fact that you are. But my fucking brain won’t let me see that!” 

Yet another brick fell. 

He took a deep breath, moving to crouch before her, taking her other hand in a tight grasp, too. “Do you want to know how much I’m in this for the long haul? I’d marry you right here and now if I could. You’re it for me, Jade. You’re the one. You’re right, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Her mouth dropped open, her eyes softening as they rounded. “You would?” 

Resting his forehead to hers, he nodded. “In a fucking heartbeat. I’m not saying that putting a ring on your finger will fix all of your stuff. That won’t be easy, either. I need you to see, though, how much I truly am here for you and intend to be for the rest of my life, because I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you. That part, loving you forever, fucking easy as hell.” 

With those words, granting him the kiss he sought, her wall finally came tumbling down.  

“Thank you,” she breathed when they parted, stroking his face, “for being real with me. I think I’ve gotten away with a lot I probably shouldn’t have because people think I’m scary, so don’t challenge me. You’re the first person who ever has.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, I still think you’re scary, too,” he joked, kissing her again, “but I love you enough to call you on your bullshit, because I want you not to be so stressed by it. You have two panic modes, Moo. Wound tighter than a watch spring and crying uncontrollably.”  

“I know, but I’m not either of those right now,” she spoke, drying her eyes. 

He leaned to catch a tear with his lips, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Maybe a little of the latter.” 

“Yeah,” she chuckled, “but you just told me you wanted to marry me, and it wasn’t a proper proposal or anything, I know, but still.” 

He lifted his chin a little, his smile crinkling his eyes. “Would you like it to be?” When he saw nothing but sheer delight reflecting back at him, he lowered down to one knee. “Jade Lucia Burton, you are the most incredible, beautiful, sweet natured, hilarious, amazing woman I’ve ever met. Will you do me the total honour of being my wife?” 

How was this real? How had she managed to find this lovely, patient, kind, holy grail of a man, and have him love her so much that after just six months, he wanted her to be his wife? She didn’t know, but what she did know was there was only one answer to his question. “Yes, Adrien Nicholas Brody. Yes, I will marry you.” Pulling her close, they entwined happily, sharing kisses and whispers of love, the rest of the world falling away into insignificance.  

“Secondary question; are you completely sure? Because I’m just a nerdy dude from Queens and you’re entirely too cool for me,” he spoke, prompting her giggles, Jade stroking his face. 

“Erm, have you met the ridiculous calamity that’s me?” she cried, kissing him again. “I’m saying yes before you come to your senses!” 

Their laughter grew, Adrien moving to sit back at her side. “Okay, third question. Will you marry me the day after tomorrow?”  

Her eyes practically fell out of her head. “What?” 

“I did just tell you I’d do it right now if we could, but you have to wait twenty-four hours after you apply for a marriage license. So, will you? Shall we do something crazy while we’re both still young enough to appreciate it?” 

She could barely keep in her excited giggles. “And people call me mental!” 

When they finally went to bed that morning, neither could really sleep, instead enjoying themselves with much less restful pleasures before arriving at the courthouse as soon as it opened in order to be issued with a marriage license. With that all-important piece of paper secured, everything seemed to move in a whirlwind.  

They decided not to tell their loved ones until after, wanting it to be just for them, deciding they could do a blessing or similar with their family and friends there at a later date. Adrien had suits in abundance, travelling back up to his house upstate to fetch one the afternoon before, leaving Jade behind to search for something suitable to wear. She wasn’t very interested in a big, traditional dress, a very unfussy woman where her fashions were concerned.  

After an unsuccessful shopping excursion, the dress she chose was actually something she’d never worn, finding it hanging at the back of her closet, still bagged and tagged. It was long, iron-grey silk designed by John Rocha, timeless and elegant.  

“Well, isn’t she perfect?” she spoke fondly upon pulling the garment from its bag, seeing it had a few creases. It was nothing that a steamer and a little patience couldn’t fix. They’d managed to get in last minute at city hall the following morning, a cancellation meaning they would be married at nine twenty-five, both up and out of bed by just coming up to seven. He was ready way before her, waiting for her by the front door. When she walked out, looking so beautiful, he almost cried.  

“Are you absolutely sure a total knockout like you wants to get hitched to me?” he spoke, nuzzling her nose with his, kissing her lips softly. 

“Never been surer of anything in my life before.” 

“Good,” he chirped, reaching into his pocket, “now you can have this.” Taking her left hand, he pushed onto it something Jade hadn’t even thought about, not even while they were shopping for wedding rings the day before, her mouth falling open. There upon her finger, he’d placed the most beautiful engagement ring she’d ever seen, a cushion cut diamond mounted on a platinum filigree band. It was a hundred percent to her taste, exactly what she would have picked herself, should he have asked her.  

“When did you get this?” she cried, covering her mouth with her other hand, watching it sparkling upon her finger as she tried not to cry, save ruining the makeup she’d fussed over for an hour. “Baby, I love it so much. It’s perfect!”  

“Yesterday, while you were across the other side of the jewellers looking at bracelets,” he smiled, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her fingers. “Glad you like it.” 

“I love it,” she confirmed again, leaning to kiss him. “Thank you.”  

One cab ride later and they arrived just on time, checking in with the front desk, all ready to get hitched. Or so they thought. 

“Will your witnesses be arriving shortly?” the lady asked them, both staring at one another with wide eyes. Shit. 

“Um, oh blimey,” Jade grimaced, starting to fan herself with her hand. “I think that’s the one thing we forgot! Shit!”  

“Well... I mean I could be one?” the woman suggested, turning her head back to the small admin area behind the desk. “Cece? You fancy coming to watch a couple of beautiful, famous people get married?”  

The aforementioned Cece looked up from her computer, her mouth falling open. “Oh my Jesus, it’s you two!” Her surprise made them laugh, watching as she flew out from her chair. “I do, yes! Anything to help out!”  

“That’s really kind of you both, thank you,” Adrien spoke, Cece looked very excited as she took them in, noticing something as she pointed at Jade. 

“Hold up! You don’t have any flowers, hon. All bride’s need a bouquet. Wait, wait.” Moving across the space, she raided a vase containing a large bloom of gardenias and a lot of greenery, pulling everything out and giving them a shake to remove the excess water, a handful of tissues offered by Lauryn, the front desk lady. “Wait, wait, I have ribbon in my desk somewhere!”  

After all drying and securing was done, they were ushered down to the courtroom, Jade feeling her insides fizz with excitement. It might not have been the wedding day she’d dreamed of, always saying she’d do something small and lowkey when she finally met the right man, but at least she had the latter of that perfect. Because he was.  

Yes, most certainly, he is the man who will come into your life and never leave it. 

Those words, spoken to her three years before by a psychic who she hadn’t put any faith in at all, they couldn’t be more accurate. After a mere ten minutes, exchanging rings and vows, they were pronounced husband and wife to the cheers and applause of Lauryn and Cece, their first kiss captured by the appointed photographer.  

“Can you do something for me?” Adrien asked, holding her face in his hands. 

“Anything.” 

“Love me forever?” 

She smiled, kissing the tip of his nose. “Always.”  

Truly, she had never loved anybody more in that moment than she did her husband. They left Manhattan behind later that morning, Jade piling her bags into his car and heading up to Cleveland with him, ready to see the place she would now get to call home.  

All along the journey, he kept looking to his side, beaming a smile as he laughed, taking one hand off the steering wheel and gripping her thigh. “I can’t believe it. You’re my fucking wife, Moo!” 

“I really bloody am!” she replied, grinning widely. “It’ll be such a cool story to tell our grandkids one day, won’t it?” 

“It will, yeah,” he confirmed. “So, how many kids do you want us to have?” 

“As many as you want to give me, sexy mans. Ideally two, though. Depends how much it hurts.” 

“Two sounds good.” 

“But not just yet,” she was quick to follow with, “I’d like it to be just us for a few years first.” 

“That makes a lot of sense, actually,” he agreed, “especially since our house is still half a damned construction site!” Their house. It made her heart flutter to hear him call it that.  

He was nervous to let her see it, Stone Barn Castle still very much under construction. He’d shown her some pictures on his phone, though, of how the renovation was shaping up. “So how many rooms did you say were done, baby?” 

“All the exterior is, every damned stone needed to be repointed, and the new roof is on as well,” he began. “The kitchen is done, the bathroom, our bedroom, and that’s about it. I’m sorry, I’m taking you up to your new home and it isn’t even finished!”  

“Oi, stop with this,” she soothed, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I can cope! Mum and dad decided to renovate their brownstone about four months after we moved in, and it was bloody chaos for the remainder of that year. I’ll be fine, just as long as I have a place to cook and sleep. And other things that involve a bed.”  

“You’ll love the bed,” he winked, his mouth upturning. “It’s fucking huge, I had it custom built, all black carved wood.” 

“Are you a secret goth mans, Mr. B?” she asked in her cutely comic voice. 

“Nope,” he laughed, “the bedroom is white with black wood furniture, dark floors. It needs some rugs, though.”  

“I bet white sheepskin ones would look fucking cracking, innit?” 

He shook his head, still laughing. “Oh, god. I married a cockney.” He waited for it; his wife not disappointing. 

“I am not a fucking cockney, you cheeky wanker!” Her mild ire was delivered right on cue. “Cockneys are from east London. I’m north London massive, mate.”  

“And so damned easy to get a rise out of,” he rumbled with laughter, Jade smacking his thigh. “Hey, easy on the violence, Mrs. B! I’m trying not to crash here!” He paused for a second, overtaking a slow-moving truck. “What are you going to go by now, by the way? You taking my surname, or sticking with your own?” 

“I think professionally, I’ll hyphenate them, but privately just use Brody.”  

He liked that, Adrien grasping her hand and bringing to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. 

They arrived after a long five hours on the road, Jade’s excitement peaking before she was even out of the car, looking all around. “Is all that land ours, too?” she cried, Adrien nodding as he pulled her bags from the back. 

“It is.” Once again, he waited for it, the word he knew she’d speak. The expensive word.  

“I’m so getting horses!”  

Ahh, there it was. Jade had ridden since her early teens, her mother taking her for lessons at NYC Riding Academy once she and Steven had been able to afford such luxuries, her sister Rachel following her love of all things equestrian, too. She had a few of her own over at her house in England, and Rachel now owned her own stables in New Haven, looking after the horses belonging mostly to wealthy Connecticut housewives who wanted the status of horse ownership without any of the hard work.  

“I’m sure we can plan out a small stable block for that,” he told her, kissing her cheek as she squeaked with excitement.  

“And a chicken coop! I really want chickens!” 

“Oh, god,” he groaned as she took her duffle from him and swung it over her shoulder. “You’re gonna turn this place back into a farm, aren’t you?” 

“Yes!” 

Well, if it made her happy. 

The more immediate happiness was found at being shown around her new home, Adrien taking great pleasure in introducing her to his contractors as his wife, and then showing her upstairs where he took even greater pleasure in pulling her from her clothes, and doing exactly what was expected of newlyweds for most of the early afternoon. After acquainting her with the bed so thoroughly, they headed out again to go and buy food from the market in the village, the light beginning to fade just as they were returning.  

They ate dinner out on the rear patio, Jade taking to the long grass with her wine glass in hand afterwards, looking up at the sky. In Manhattan, the many tall buildings and bright lights meant that a clear view of the night sky wasn’t always offered, the splendorous beauty of the countryside, surrounded only by forest changing that for her entirely.  

Leaning back against his chest as she felt him behind her, she smiled contentedly as he kissed her cheek, pointing up to the blazing canopy above. “Sky full of stars.” 

“I thought you might like that.” he murmured, kissing her again.  

She loved it.  

Finally, she was home.  

[hindulivesmatter]

I'm from the USA and took a lot of Indian history courses at my university. You might already know this or have guessed it, but a lot of what we learned was taught from a leftist--and at times explicitly Marxist--perspective. This was even stronger in other (but thankfully not all!) social studies departments where there were classes focusing solely on various social ills of Hinduism with regard to caste and issues of feminism, yet almost nothing negative could be said if it might be critical of Islam or Muslim figures, (Mahmud of Ghazni being a notable exception for one of my professors.) There was a whole class on British colonialism; no details were spared. Horrible famines in the Deccan, Odisha, Bengal. The decimation of the textile industry. Banning bharatanatyam. The salt tax. Accounts of how a British man kicked one of his servants to death, and another of how the poor and sick congregated outside the gates of a hospital in the south that at the time would only help Europeans. Jallianwala Bagh. But Aurangzeb? Completely whitewashed. You would think Sikhs carry a kirpan for no reason. It was only through reading additional books and documents for my essays and projects that I learned about how he tore down temples, smashed murtis (and stole valuable ones,) levied a double tax on non-Muslims, etc. I remember reading an account of a traveler going through the south at the time of the Deccan wars, remarking on how you could find entire villages empty and deserted fields full of unharvested crops because the people had fled advancing armies. In one region his forces simply killed some Telugu-speaking Brahmins serving the local king rather than force them to convert, and in another his forces captured a royal scribe, forced him to convert to Islam, and forcibly circumcized him before the man killed himself. Obviously the history of all things under the umbrella of Hinduism or any other system is not perfect, but there was a huge difference in how critical you could be of Hinduism (and even western traditions/ideas) compared to Islam.

Sometimes I daydream about what it would have been like to study Sangam literature in India or to experience Andal without needing an English translation, or going to translate old Sanskrit copies of the Mahabharata whose telling is unique to a certain village or something. But ultimately I'm glad I chose to be a research scientist instead and have a career in that, because I don't think I would have been able to succeed in academia unless I were a leftist. :\ Honestly I feel like even going to hang out with ISKCON for a few days would be a better introduction to Hinduism for the average person abroad with zero knowledge than a class called "Intersections of Gender and Caste in Hinduism" or something.

Very telling how Hinduism, and even Christianity is ripped apart in academia, yet when it comes to Islam, it is a religion of "tolerance, and beauty that respects women."

Honestly, though, it's because of how severely they react when their religion is criticized or even inspected. Apostates are given death, women who do not obey are given death, anyone who utters a word against their precious prophets is given, you guessed it! Death.

No religion is perfect, humans can be horrific creatures, and even Hinduism cannot escape that. But Islam has committed far more war crimes than any other religion.

It absolutely boils my blood to see traces of colonizers in our cities. One side of my family hails from Aurangabad, named aftre Aurangzeb, and you already know the atrocities he committed.

It's so fucking insidious to see how the youth have been told what to think. My own friend claimed to me, verbatim: "You cannot be neutral in the Israel-Palestine war. Either you support Palestine, or you support genocide."

Support Hamas? Support terrorism? The same terrorism that affects us? Has everyone forgotten 26/11?

It makes me so sad to think of the future we could have had. Sanskrit would be the most spoken language, instead of English. Gurukuls would exist, and India would still have all of its wealth.

You're right, even ISKCON is better than the propaganda they feed people about our religion.

[fromkenari]

Waterloo Letters #4 (4/4): Hometown stuff

Re: Hometown stuff A agcd@eclare45.com                9/4/20 8:31 PM to Henry H, Fuck. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I’m so sorry. June and Nora send their love. Not as much love as me. Obviously. Please don’t worry about me. We’ll figure it out. It just might take time. I’ve been working on patience. I’ve picked up all kinds of things from you. God, what can I possibly write to make this better? Here: I can’t decide if your emails make me miss you more or less. Sometimes I feel like a funny-looking rock in the middle of the most beautiful clear ocean when I read the kinds of things you write to me. You love so much bigger than yourself, bigger than everything. I can’t believe how lucky I am to even witness it—to be the one who gets to have it, and so much of it, is beyond luck and feels like fate. Catholic God made me to be the person you write those things about. I’ll say five Hail Marys. Muchas gracias, Santa Maria. I can’t match you for prose, but what I can do is write you a list. AN INCOMPLETE LIST: THINGS I LOVE ABOUT HRH PRINCE HENRY OF WALES 1. The sound of your laugh when I piss you off. 2. The way you smell underneath your fancy cologne, like clean linens but somehow also fresh grass (what kind of magic is this?). 3. That thing you do where you stick out your chin to try to look tough. 4. How your hands look when you play piano. 5. All the things I understand about myself now because of you. 6. How you think Return of the Jedi is the best Star Wars (wrong) because deep down you’re a gigantic, sappy, embarrassing romantic who just wants the happily ever after. 7. Your ability to recite Keats. 8. Your ability to recite Bernadette’s “Don’t let it drag you down” monologue from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. 9. How hard you try. 10. How hard you’ve always tried. 11. How determined you are to keep trying. 12. That when your shoulders cover mine, nothing else in the entire stupid world matters. 13. The goddamn issue of Le Monde you brought back to London with you and kept and have on your nightstand (yes, I saw it). 14. The way you look when you first wake up. 15. Your shoulder-to-waist ratio. 16. Your huge, generous, ridiculous, indestructible heart. 17. Your equally huge dick. 18. The face you just made when you read that last one. 19. The way you look when you first wake up (I know I already said this, but I really, really love it). 20. The fact that you loved me all along. I keep thinking about that last one ever since you told me, and what an idiot I was. It’s so hard for me to get out of my own head sometimes, but now I’m coming back to what I said to you the night in my room when it all started, and how I brushed you off when you offered to let me go after the DNC, how I used to try to act like it was nothing sometimes. I didn’t even know what you were offering to do to yourself. God, I want to fight everyone who’s ever hurt you, but it was me too, wasn’t it? All that time. I’m so sorry. Please stay gorgeous and strong and unbelievable. I miss you I miss you I miss you I love you. I’m calling you as soon as I send this, but I know you like to have these things written down. A P.S. Richard Wagner to Eliza Wille, re: Ludwig II–1864 (Remember when you played Wagner for me? He’s an asshole, but this is something.) It is true that I have my young king who genuinely adores me. You cannot form an idea of our relations. I recall one of the dreams of my youth. I once dreamed that Shakespeare was alive: that I really saw and spoke to him: I can never forget the impression that dream made on me. Then I would have wished to see Beethoven, though he was already dead. Something of the same kind must pass in the mind of this lovable man when with me. He says he can hardly believe that he really possesses me. None can read without astonishment, without enchantment, the letters he writes to me.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 301-304). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

1 | 2 | 3

[thecasualfkfan]

As the Red,White and Royal Blue movie is released,here's an email from the book which I really really love-

-------------------------------------------------------

A <agcd@eclare45.com>

9/4/20 8:31 PM

to Henry

H,

Fuck.

I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I’m so sorry. June and Nora send their love. Not as much love as me. Obviously.

Please don’t worry about me. We’ll figure it out. It just might take time. I’ve been working on patience. I’ve picked up all kinds of things from you.

God, what can I possibly write to make this better?

Here: I can’t decide if your emails make me miss you more or less. Sometimes I feel like a funny-looking rock in the middle of the most beautiful clear ocean when I read the kinds of things you write to me. You love so much bigger than yourself, bigger than everything. I can’t believe how lucky I am to even witness it—to be the one who gets to have it, and so much of it, is beyond luck and feels like fate. Catholic God made me to be the person you write those things about. I’ll say five Hail Marys. Muchas gracias, Santa Maria.

I can’t match you for prose, but what I can do is write you a list.

AN INCOMPLETE LIST: THINGS I LOVE ABOUT HRH PRINCE HENRY OF WALES

1. The sound of your laugh when I piss you off.

2. The way you smell underneath your fancy cologne, like clean linens but somehow also fresh grass (what kind of magic is this?).

3. That thing you do where you stick out your chin to try to look tough.

4. How your hands look when you play piano.

5. All the things I understand about myself now because of you.

6. How you think Return of the Jedi is the best Star Wars (wrong) because deep down you’re a gigantic, sappy, embarrassing romantic who just wants the happily ever after.

7. Your ability to recite Keats.

8. Your ability to recite Bernadette’s “Don’t let it drag you down” monologue from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

9. How hard you try.

10. How hard you’ve always tried.

11. How determined you are to keep trying.

12. That when your shoulders cover mine, nothing else in the entire stupid world matters.

13. The goddamn issue of Le Monde you brought back to London with you and kept and have on your nightstand (yes, I saw it).

14. The way you look when you first wake up.

15. Your shoulder-to-waist ratio.

16. Your huge, generous, ridiculous, indestructible heart.

17. Your equally huge dick.

18. The face you just made when you read that last one.

19. The way you look when you first wake up (I know I already said this, but I really, really love it).

20. The fact that you loved me all along.

I keep thinking about that last one ever since you told me, and what an idiot I was. It’s so hard for me to get out of my own head sometimes, but now I’m coming back to what I said to you the night in my room when it all started, and how I brushed you off when you offered to let me go after the DNC, how I used to try to act like it was nothing sometimes. I didn’t even know what you were offering to do to yourself. God, I want to fight everyone who’s ever hurt you, but it was me too, wasn’t it? All that time. I’m so sorry.

Please stay gorgeous and strong and unbelievable. I miss you I miss you I miss you I love you. I’m calling you as soon as I send this, but I know you like to have these things written down.

A

P.S. Richard Wagner to Eliza Wille, re:

Ludwig II–1864 (Remember when you played Wagner for me? He’s an asshole, but this is something.)

It is true that I have my young king who genuinely adores me. You cannot form an idea of our relations. I recall one of the dreams of my youth. I once dreamed that Shakespeare was alive: that I really saw and spoke to him: I can never forget the impression that dream made on me. Then I would have wished to see Beethoven, though he was already dead. Something of the same kind must pass in the mind of this lovable man when with me. He says he can hardly believe that he really possesses me. None can read without astonishment, without enchantment, the letters he writes to me.

-------------------------------------------------------

- Ch 11, Red white and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston

[bro-atz]

IRRESISTIBLE CHAPTER THREE: WHO WAS IT?

pair: cmo!san/employee!oc word count: 2k chapter rating: pg-13 — sfw! genre: romance, drama

table of contents ♤ previous chapter ♤ next chapter

When Gyuri awoke the next morning, she couldn’t remember anything from the night before, which meant she didn’t know how she ended up staring at an unfamiliar ceiling or where the heck she was. She sat up and held her throbbing head, her mind reeling in attempt to figure out where in the world she was. Her memories were unable to answer any of those questions, but once she looked around the room, she figured out at least one thing: she slept with someone.

That someone was still in the bed with her, apparently, but their face was completely covered by the duvet. Gyuri couldn’t remember who she slept with, nor did she want to remember— she just wanted to get the hell out of there. She quietly snuck out of bed and gathered her articles of clothing, slowly dressing herself as she found piece after piece. As she put herself back together, she saw the immense amount of discarded condom wrappers dotting the floor. Embarrassment flooded through Gyuri as she grabbed her purse and immediately exited the room quietly.

She was in a hotel. Of course she was in a hotel. To top off her momentary amnesia, she had to do the walk of shame through the bright lights of the hotel. She left the front doors to see that the sun was just starting to rise. At least one thing was working in her favor.

Gyuri hailed a cab and got home. She didn’t even dare look at her phone. The first thing she wanted to do was get home and shower. Yet, the second she arrived home, her phone was getting bombarded with texts and calls, all from Seonghwa. She wondered why on Earth he would be calling her so early in the morning and on a Saturday no less when a heavy realization hit her aching brain— was it Seonghwa she slept with?

The second she answered his latest call, the first thing out of his mouth was, “Where did you go?!”

“I… Uh… What?!” Gyuri internally, and externally, panicked; there was no way in hell she slept with Seonghwa, right?

“God, uh, okay. Meet me at the café by the office at ten,” Seonghwa said before he immediately hung up.

Gyuri looked at the time— it was still eight in the morning. Begrudgingly, she got herself in the shower and got ready quickly, her hangover drilling a hole through her skull.

Donning huge sunglasses and a baseball hat, Gyuri sat across from a very concerned Seonghwa. They both had mugs of coffee in front of them, yet neither of them even touched their mugs just yet. Seonghwa sat with his arms crossed over his chest, intimidating Gyuri further.

“Where’d you go last night after dinner?”

“Huh?”

Gyuri stared at her friend blankly. It seemed like she did not sleep with Seonghwa, but she still wasn’t sure quite yet.

“You disappeared.”

“You mean… I didn’t go back to the hotel with you?”

“You went to a hotel?! Gyu, what on fucking Earth happened?!”

Seonghwa jumped out of his seat and panicked loudly, earning skeptical glances from the people around them. Gyuri hid further into her sunglasses and hat. She shushed Seonghwa and begged him to sit down. The man obeyed, but he still glared at her. She knew he had to tell him what happened, otherwise he would not leave her alone until she did so.

“I don’t know what happened last night, but all I know is that I woke up this morning and saw my clothes and condom wrappers everywhere, and I didn’t even get a look at the guy’s face before getting the hell out of there…”

“Gyuri, what is wrong with you?!”

“I don’t know! I’m sorry! I swear, I’m never drinking again!”

“I doubt that, but one thing at a time,” he huffed out, his arms no longer crossed over his chest as he started outlining a plan with his finger tip on the coffee table. “Let’s figure out who you went with last night.”

“I seriously don’t know… All I remember is that after I came back from my smoke, I was definitely drinking with Iseul and Minkyung… Then Mr. Song, Mr. Choi from accounting, and Mr. Jung joined us,” Gyuri slowly started recollecting the events from the night before.

“Do you think it was Mingi, then?”

“No, he passed out in Mr. Jung’s lap, so I helped Mr. Jung get him in a cab, and he took Mr. Song home.”

“Okay, so it’s definitely not me, Woo, or Mingi. It can’t be Joong because he and I went for a second round after the dinner ended… Hold on.”

Tapping his foot lightly, Seonghwa pursed his lips and closed his eyes trying to remember everyone’s whereabouts during and after the dinner.

“Joong and I were the last ones there… And I remember… Hana, Jongho, and Minkyung had to drag Iseul home… But you were gone before then… And so were Yeosang, Yunho, and San.”

“So… You’re telling me it was either Mr. Kang, Mr. Jeong, or… Mr. Choi…”

“If I’m not mistaken, Yunho usually takes care of San when they go drinking because San is a special case when he’s drunk. Kinda like you,” he said with the hint of a giggle.

“Ow, you asshole. Way to kick me while I’m down.”

“What if it’s Yeosang?”

Just the thought of her potential hook up from the previous night being the one member of C5 she had a huge crush on was enough to make Gyuri’s face turn bright red. “Do you really think it could be him?” Gyuri asked in a whisper.

“Girl… Do you have a crush on him or something?”

“…Maybe.”

“Gyuri!”

“There’s nothing wrong with a crush, okay!”

“On one of the members of the C-suite?! Really?!”

“Don’t yuck my yum,” Gyuri shot back with her lame argument.

“Okay, fine. Do you really think it’s him?”

Exasperated, Gyuri flung her head back and ruffled up her hair. “Fuck, man! I don’t know! I don’t remember anything after Mr. Song and Mr. Jung left! It’s killing me, too.”

With that, a loud roar erupted from Gyuri’s stomach. Gyuri pressed her stomach, her face a rosy pink as Seonghwa laughed loudly in her face. He laughed for such a long time that he, once again, attracted the unwanted attention from other patrons of the cafe. After what felt like eons, Seonghwa’s laughs died out. Wiping tears from his eyes, he declared, “Let’s go grab lunch. It’ll also help get rid of that hangover of yours.”

Responding with a weak nod, Gyuri drank as much of her coffee as she could then got up, the two of them returning their ceramics and walking out of the cafe.

Seonghwa ended up taking them to a ramen spot near the cafe. They walked towards a booth that just so happened to be right in front of Yunho and San, who were also eating at this establishment apparently. Gyuri spotted them first, and she immediately grabbed the collar of Seonghwa’s shirt, pulling him to her to hiss, “Don’t you fucking dare think about greeting them.”

With a confused look on his face, Seonghwa looked ahead of him to see the sight that Gyuri had seen just moments before. He whispered back with the same sense of urgency, “What? Why not?”

“What if I slept with one of them?!”

“Oh shit. Yeah, okay. Let’s be quiet.”

They took their seat in front of their booth and ordered quietly before turning to each other and discussing the situation in the same register.

“I just can’t believe you can’t remember anything. You’re normally good with your memory when you get that drunk,” Seonghwa exclaimed in his quietest voice.

“I know. I don’t even think I drank that much last night,” she admitted honestly.

“Alright, so no more drinking without me, got it?”

“Got it…”

As soon as their food arrived at their table, the two of them immediately dug into their food as if they had been starved for years. They ate silently— so silently, in fact, that they were able to hear Yunho’s hushed voice above all of the chatter in the restaurant.

“This is why I don’t leave you alone while you drink,” he stated with a heavy sigh.

“Well, you left me alone last night, so I blame you,” San responded.

“So, let me get this straight. You went to the hotel with someone from the company?”

Gyuri nearly choked on her noodles. She and Seonghwa both stared at each other in complete shock and horror as San responded, “Yeah.”

“And you don’t know or remember who?”

“She left in the morning before I woke up.”

This time, Gyuri did choke on her noodles, and Seonghwa, who was drinking water, spat it all in Gyuri’s face. She glared at him as she wiped it off.

“That’s not good…” Yunho stated solemnly.

“I know… God, I hope I’m not in trouble, man,” San sounded like he was losing his marbles.

“You’re the most popular one of the five of us. I’m sure whoever you hooked up with was happy that they got to hook up with you.”

“Then why’d she run away the next morning?"

“I don’t know, man. I’m trying to put lipstick on a pig. Work with me here.”

Tears streamed down Gyuri’s face as Seonghwa glared at her. She could barely focus on the conversation between the two out of five men from C5.

“Wanna know what the worst part is?” San brought his voice all the way down, but Gyuri was still able to hear him.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t remember who she was, but she was fucking good. Like, I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“How can you remember that but not her fucking face?!”

“I’m sure it’ll come back to me…”

“You’re so fucking weird, Choi San.”

“Hush.”

Gyuri felt like she had been K.O’d. Her head slumped onto the table, her hair nearly falling into whatever ramen she had left. Luckily, Seonghwa moved the bowl before it could. He patted the top of Gyuri’s head with a smirk— he was kind of impressed with his college underclassman, but the smirk quickly vanished as he and Gyuri both realized how grave the situation was.

Eyes wide, Gyuri’s mind reeled. She had no clue how she managed to mess up this bad. Out of everyone she could have slept with, it just had to be the boss she hated the most. She cursed her luck as she pushed herself up, her head falling into the palm of her hand. She heard the booth creak as San and Yunho both shuffled out, and almost immediately, she and Seonghwa faced the other way, their hands shielding their face. They both stared right at the wood wall before them until they heard the bells on the door jingle, Seonghwa’s full wrath coming at her the second they turned back towards each other.

“You fucking idiot, Hwang Gyuri! I cannot believe you did this!” Seonghwa spat at her.

Gyuri, who was trembling like a chihuahua in the snow, bowed her head as low as she could.

“I’m sorry, Hwa! I’m so sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!”

“This is why we don’t hook up with people from work!”

“I said I was sorry! What more do you want from me?!”

“First thing we gotta do is make sure San never finds out that it was you!”

“Okay! Done!”

“And if he does, we need to make sure he doesn’t say shit, got it?!”

“Got it!”

Seonghwa slapped his palm to his forehead as he muttered to himself about human resources and how Gyuri would be fucked if it weren’t for him, but Gyuri couldn’t really hear him. She flinched when he looked up at her with a deadly serious glare, a huge groan of exasperation escaping his body.

“…Gyu, how could you do this?!”

“I said I was sorry!”

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irresistible tag list: @eyeryis @choisanswifexo @jennylychee @kirilunimimi @hyukssunflower @imgenieforyou-boy @hwallazia @starlletsblog

network: @cromernet

apply here to be part of the taglist!

[louisetteschuunishenanigans]

I'm honestly pretty sure either Astolfo or Roland is gonna die in the coming arc and I Don't Like It.

When the author has exactly two long-running series, of course people are going to use the first (Pandora Hearts) as a reference when speculating about the second one (The Case Study of Vanitas). And the thing is, if VnC turns out to be anything like PH in terms of length and structure, then a bunch of people WILL die, and the first of these deaths WILL mark the midpoint of the series and the beginning of the real descent into fucked up lore, angst and madness.

And if we're going by chapter count... Well, the First Blood in PH occurred on chapter 60-something (I haven't read it since 2019, cut me some slack). If VnC is to reach a comparable chapter count, then we're getting DANGEROUSLY close.

Add to that the recent reveal of several characters (first the Vampire of the Blue Moon, then the Shapeless One and the Archiviste Lady) with obvious ties to the kind of deeper lore that would come hailing down on us once the First Blood is shed... Yep, it's coming for us.

And then there's the fact that said upcoming arc which has a high chance to see the first major character death (excluding backstory flashbacks obviously) started with 60+ FUCKING PAGES OF ASTOLFO BACKSTORY. Seriously that's a huge death flag if I've ever seen one. There's only one possible reason an author could do that and it's something important is going to happen with Astolfo in that arc. And with the aforementioned context it's very possible that important thing will be his own death. "A fugue of hatred that has forgotten how to stop", huh. It's gonna find a way soon huh?

The other option imo would be Roland dying instead. Still computes with Astolfo having an important moment in this arc since that sure as hell would do some shit to his character development, but also Roland's thing with deliberately sacrificing himself as a scapegoat for Astolfo to hate over himself in a final attempt to save him... Definitely gives him a death flag as well.

I have a feeling that danger is coming. It's just a matter of who it's coming for, and well, y'all know who my money is on rn.

[sephirthoughts]

for the random character ask game: 3, 17, 19, 20, 31 with Nero?

3. This isn't obscure to anyone who sees all my ridiculous posts about the Vincent family, but I do HC Vincent Valentine as half Chinese, which makes his biological son Nero (and also Sephiroth) a quarter Chinese. I don't think he knows or cares, given his life up to this point, but it's a part of his heritage and part of what makes him so beautiful (in my multi-layer delusionverse at least).

17. So, Nero has two sides. One is a highly competent, cold-blooded sadist who has enough power and charisma to control those wily Tsviets in his brother's stead. But the side of him we all love is the real Nero. That seething, crawling, clinging, clawing, demanding, begging, bloodthirsty, no one can have you but me and I will tear apart anyone who would dare to hurt you or even anyone who looks at you for too long Nero, that loves and worships his brother to the point of actual madness. Weiss loves him back, and would never leave him, of course, but if he ever tried, I think we'd see the true depth of Nero's absolute obsession, even to the point of making his brother stay by his side if he has to.

I have a lot of songs for this, but the most spot-on I can think of at the moment are Rid of Me and Legs, from PJ Harvey's gorgeously psychotic 1993 album Rid of Me. Pretty much the whole album is Nero's shattered psyche talking to itself. Give it a listen, for real.

19. Nero can canonically make all kinds of things with his darkness, which includes people. So, when he's lost and alone, after the events of DoC and winds up stuck at his bio father's house being wardened by Sephiroth and isolating himself in his room, feeding into his own madness, the need to soothe himself would overpower his reason, and cause him to manifest fake versions of Weiss, interact with them, which will only make his grief and longing for the real Weiss worse, and also lead him to tear himself apart with shame and guilt about it, later [this will come up in his story and i already have a scene half written 💀].

guys making fake Weiss is nero's VICE I'M HILARIOUS SHUT UP

20. The worst ones are the horrible mutilations done to his back and shoulders, to implant the wings. The actual articulated wing pieces were heavily damaged and then lost during DoC, but the implanted mounts, to which they connect, can't be removed now without paralyzing him and leaving huge gaping holes in the muscle tissue, so they are still there. The wing mounts had to be spliced to his nerves so they would function, and that had to be done without anesthetic, to ensure the connections were made correctly. That means Nero's body was restrained and rendered immobile with mako-enhanced paralytics, while his mind was kept awake with stimulants, to endure a twenty-six hour surgery, in which the pain was so excruciating, it caused him to have a psychotic break, and to suffer permanent mental scars, as well as the physical ones on his body. Also he has a bunch from medical abuse, punitive torture, and combat.

31. Nero would like to officially state, for the record, that the Weiss the Immaculate fan blog on tumblr, all-hail-emperor-weiss, does not belong to him and that he has no association with it whatsoever, and if he gets one more anon ask, accusing him of being Weiss' crazy brother, he's going to fucking show you fucking internet nerds what crazy really means so everyone fuck off and go back to shitposting your Weiss headcanons so he can tell you why they're idiotic and wrong—er…so the blog owner, whoever they are, can tell you why they're idiotic and wrong. Except that one who said they HC Weiss and Nero as soul mates and a pair of mandarin ducks, who would be together in every universe. That person is excepted from the general fucking off.

[aya-fay]

At gunpoint

Name: At gunpoint part I

Author: Aya-Fay

Fandom: Captain America

Pairing: Mobster!Sebastian Stan x fem!Reader; platonic Chris Evans x fem!Reader

Summary: There have always been threats and hatred, and it has never stopped us.

Warnings: attemped shooting

Status: In-progress

My Sebastian Stan’s masterlist and My Main Masterlist

Part II of this series may be found here: At gunpoint part II

There is no such thing as a good morning. Y/N knew this firsthand.

Even now, when everything was finally turning out in her favor, the morning concealed a devilish trick that threatened to become a real disaster if she ignores it. Y/N carefully slipped out from under the covers so as not to wake the sleeping man by her side and went into the bathroom, where she hastily washed herself and tried to collect her thoughts somehow.

Dressed into her best outfit, she quietly left the house and greedily took a breath of fresh air, not fully understanding at what point exactly her life went awry. Was it when she was thrown jail for something she didn’t do or when she agreed to work for Scarlett she had no clue. The only thing she was certain about is that she was so fucking stuck in a huge mess and if only she could turn back the time she would strike Scarlett in her impudent face and leave.

The phone vibrated in her pocket, and Y/N hailed a taxi, giving the address of a small street cafe where she was already awaited. If she knew that her life would soon take another unexpected turn for the worse, she would never leave her house that morning.

“I am sorry for being late, Miss Johansson” Y/N said as she sat down at a table directly across from a thin woman dressed in a business suit, consisted of a dark red silk blouse tucked into an overly tight black leather skirt. The redhead was slowly drinking her coffee and reading the newspaper, as if she was in no hurry to go anywhere and was not expecting anyone, but the appearance of Y/N clearly inspired her.

Scarlett looked up from her newspaper and glanced at the young woman with sharp cold eyes.

She smiled, but her smile was empty deprived of any trace of emotions and warmth and held out her hand. Y/N was surprised at this gesture, but shook hands in return nonetheless. “No worries, Miss Evans,” Scarlett replied, and Y/N winced.

Since when did she become “Miss Evans” for this devil woman? For the last months she only been called slave or toy. Nothing else. Literally. Can it be that an expensive coat and her blue cashmere jumper really changed her view into other people’s eyes?

Even though the morning has just officially started, people were already in a hurry to get to work. Some of them were taking their time having their breakfast. Y/N looked around, feeling uncomfortable sitting in the sun, in an open area at the busiest time. She could feel shivers running down her spine, which was never a good sign. She ordered coffee in a somewhat somehow constrained way and clamped, just to blend in with the rest of the customers.

“What did you want to discuss?” She immediately got down to business, not wanting to drag out this meeting for longer than necessary. “I am all ears.”

“The time has come.” Y/N raised her eyebrows in surprise. She knew that time was slowly sinking through her fingers, but she was not ready to betray him so soon. Her nerves were on the edge. An extremely dangerous state of mind.

“And what do you want now?” She asked Scarlett and smiled at the waitress when she brought her coffee. “Thank you.”

As soon as the girl left, Scarlett came straight up to Y/N’s face and whispered something in her ear. “Give me all the information you’ve collected.”

The girl felt how her fingers curled tightly around the cup. Suppressed anger, resentment and rage were slowly bursting out onto the surface. “Not now” She said and stared into the amused redhead’s eyes.

Scarlett laughed then abruptly stopped and dangerously low said narrowing her eyes. “Remember who you are talking to, pet. Your life depends on me. You don’t look like a person who was offered bigger amount of money...  Oh no…Don’t tell me that my slave suddenly became attached to the man in her bed? How mane has been in his place?”

Y/N gritted her teeth angrily and looked away. She was sick of this Scarlett’s habit of showing her superiority over others, even sicker than when Sebastian did it. Stan’s superiority over others come out more natural,  elegant and organic, while Scarlett’s superiority seemed fake, poisonous and vile.

“Don't think that if we're in public and you are my mistress that will save you from being punched in your pretty face.” She outburst, collecting for the punch that never came. Scarlett just chuckled, perfectly aware that no strength was going to happen out of this threat. Her located nearby people would stop Y/N when she would just raise her hand. People like Johansson were never alone.

“Just remember…” Scarlett said as she stood up, buttoned up her coat and was about to leave. “Getting attached to Stan is your biggest mistake that will destroy you. One way or another. Whether it would be me who kills you or him.”

Left alone, Y/N drank her coffee, then got up and threw some money on the table and went home.

Returning home she cautiously opened the door, took off her coat and shoes and went into the bedroom. Sebastian rolled over onto the bed, pulled the blanket to his chest, but he did not look absent-minded or disheveled, he was clearly awake and even cleaned himself up.

“I betrayed you” Y/N said. Simple as that and with no warning. There was no way to prepare someone for such truth reveal.

“I know” Sebastian replied just as simply, not surprised at all.

“For how long?”

“For quite a long time. I was just wondering if you decide to confess or not.” Said Sebastian pulling out a hand with a gun clamped in it from under the blanket. Sebastian’s eyes were filled with sadness, even grief, and Y/N made no attempt to escape or defend herself.

“Sorry,” she shrugged and chuckled a little. “You will find a flash drive with everything I collected in the pocket of your yesterday's jacket. There are if not everything, then a lot. And…Aim for the head, not the heart.” She whispered, looking straight into the blue eyes.

Then there was a shot.

TBC

[aziraphales-library]

hello lovely mods!! this blog is amazing, i really appreciate how hard you work. do you know any fics where crowley is just really possessive/protective over aziraphale?

Hi! We have looooads of fics already recommended on our #protective crowley tag so make sure to check those out. Here are some where Crowley is more possessive...

Oh, not again by HolyCatsAndRabbits (G)

"Now, why ever would you insinuate that I might possibly do something about the fact that there is a man hitting on my husband?"

Know Your Worth by MyFirstAndLastVow09 (NR)

Crowley spends his days with his angel, helping him (or mostly lounging) Aziraphale in the bookstore, having lunches, dinners, etc., with him. In general, life after the Notpocalypse was going, in Aziraphale’s words, tickety-boo.

Until, a certain archangel decided to make a appearance.

In Crowley’s opinion, fuck that guy.

Long Live the King by StarlightPhoenix (M)

During the stand-off against Satan, Adam had done something. Satan never returned, and Hell had no King.

Beelzebub had no choice but to go to Crowley, Serpent of Eden, and offer him the Throne.

Crowley had no choice but to accept, knowing it would keep him and Aziraphale safe.

All hail the Serpent of Eden.

Surpassing All the Stars by KannaOphelia (M)

There was a faint tracing of scales along the woman's cheekbones, tracing down her thin arms and lean thighs. The nipples on her pale, almost flat breasts were dark as night. Fiery red curls fell over dagger-sharp shoulders sprayed gently with more black scales, and the golden eyes were wide and snake-like. The woman was beautiful, but hardly human.

"Crawly," the woman said with disgust. "Was that the best you could do, angel?"

"I said I didn't have much imagination." Aziraphale's lips were heavy, and she was almost sure she wasn't forming the words properly. There was some kind of spell over her, holding her almost immobile. The venom must have been paralytic. If she had been human, she supposed she would have been dead. Her corporation didn't like it much either. "What name would you prefer I use for you?"

The stranger tipped her head on one side, considering. "Crowley?"

Aziraphale almost laughed. The whole situation was simply too irritating. If she was to die now, at the hands of some local deity, the paperwork hardly bore thinking about. And her precious work on Sappho's poetry, gone.

"Crowley, then. You're a nymph of some kind, I take it?"

Dark Water I: Dark Story by UnproblematicMe (M)

Anthony J. Crowley lives the careless life of a rich man’s son. A jack of all trades, he has tried his hand in many jobs, but nothing could hold his interest for a long time. So it’s not unusual for him to take a new job because of a cute blonde guy who needs his help.

Aziraphale Fell runs a Youtube Channel with his friends Anathema and Newt. When they need a new camera man, he accepts the offer of a handsome skeptic he meets at a party. Specialised in ghost hunting, Aziraphale has seen his fair share of strangeness. But things are about to get much stranger.

Waking Up Married by Caedmon (E)

"So you’re telling me that my options are either to convince this man I just met and drunkenly married to stay married to me for six months or lose two thirds of a billion pounds?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Fergus said.

“Fucking shit,” Crowley spat.

He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment before rubbing his eyes with his fists. Now his job would be twice as hard. He needed to talk Aziraphale into staying married for six months. Should he try begging or bribing? This was a huge ask, and Aziraphale would be well within his rights to tell Crowley to fuck off. But Crowley was prepared to offer him pretty much anything, up to half of the trust, if that’s what it took. He didn’t care.

But that was only part of his concern. Even if he got insanely lucky and Aziraphale agreed to stay legally married to him for the next six months, how the hell was he going to talk Aziraphale into dating him during that time? And was it foolish to even try?

One thing at a time, he decided. First, he needed to convince Aziraphale to stay legally married to him. Then he could set about wooing his husband. He hoped.

- Mod D

[crystalelemental]

Emerald League defeated. With the team I had planned on, which worked as well as I could've hoped.

The team is as follows:

Blaziken (Lonely)

Delcatty (Hasty)

Tropius (Bold)

Banette (Naive)

Walrein (Naughty)

Mawile (Jolly)

All were caught as the first female we encountered. I didn't reset for any natures. This is the only time Mawile has ever cooperated with me.

Blaziken absolutely demolished Sidney and Glacia. Admittedly, they kinda threw? Sidney didn't use Sand Attack, and Glacia didn't use a Water move. Bulk Up + Fighting move just broke both.

Banette obliterated Phoebe. Shadow Ball spam easily knocked out everything in one shot. Granted, crit on Sableye, so like...that's a bit cheating, but I count it.

Walrein slapped Drake apart, except for Kingdra who got her to 1HP. She did not outspeed Flygon.

Tropius was supposed to help against Wallace, but failed to outspeed Wailord of all things and got hit by Blizzard, dying instantly. I had revived Walrein to hopefully do this exact thing, and it Body Slammed until Walrein dropped. We were aiming for a paralysis, which we got on Ludicolo before dropping. Then...the fun.

I mentioned leading into this that I had a game plan for Mawile. That game plan is revealed now, through Baton Pass. Iron Defense Baton Pass into Calm Mind Delcatty. I admit, I threw in the Double Team boosts for funsies, to create this specific combo. It swept Wallace no problem.

And to prove its efficacy, we swept the League with it. You know what the really messed up part is? It was hard as hell.

Sidney's Mightyena has Roar. He can force you out and remove all your buffs. Phoebe's Curse ignores accuracy checks. Wallace has Rain Dance/Water Spout, which is going to kill you if it lands so you cannot fuck around that long. Glacia...okay, she only has Hail, but for some reason missed only one attack ever despite +5 evasion. I legitimately questioned if Ice Ball always hit under Hail and no one knew. And Drake has nothing, Shelgon's easy to play around. Paralysis is a bit spooky I guess, but he can't hurt Mawile. We had a legitimate, absolute bitch of a time on this one.

Which is kinda great. Emerald really did introduce counterplay to all its new tech. It does not make it easy to come in and sweep whatever you want. And I kinda respect that, even if it did ultimately pave the way for "the best and most consistent approach is just high damage offense."

That said, the same kudos cannot be extended to Mr. Stone.

(Note: she was 53 before starting League Sweep; Delcatty levels like crazy)

Steven's Skarmory can, as expected, not even come close to denting Mawile. And Delcatty has Cute Charm which just further locks down Skarmory's shit. Aerial Ace is a very funny anti-evasion strat, though. Would absolutely kill Ninjask. His team is exquisite in all else, and it feels only fitting that Mawile be the hard counter to him that she was destined to be. For added fun, had Delcatty not been -Def nature, we likely would've been fine, even without evasion. The evasion was just an added little fuck you to not even need healing items.

So yeah. Emerald defeated. That was fun. Absolutely huge fan of Walrein, and while I didn't get to play to Calm Mind Banette, I have every confidence it would perform well enough to handle Wallace given access to Thunderbolt and Psychic. Blaziken remains the best, and running this nonsense Delcatty was divine. Mawile is actually great. Hit level 41 and you're pretty much set to do what she needs to do, and it really does just complete negate some fights. Tropius...buddy, I liked running you all game, but the League kinda dunks on you way too hard. Flying offers nothing, it's actively bad in several places, and Wallace is extremely too balanced for its sole Grass type move to do much. Especially since Wailord can both remove its potential Sunny Day/Solarbeam combo, and one-shots with Blizzard. I am not too impressed with Tropius, sadly.

Next up is supposed to be FRLG. I have to admit, I'm not super excited about it? I might do Platinum next. But I did want to cover everything, so...who knows, we'll see what I pick up.