#we’re story-telling!! i want to take every opportunity to make this the most interesting story we can!

[sharkieboi]

made a deal with an aberration thing in DnD tonight and I don’t think either the DM or the other players were expecting my character to accept so that was fun on all fronts

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims Shares Details About Collab with SixamCC

You Make The Sims Featuring SixamCC

The Sims community is a place of big ideas, storytellers, content-makers, and creators of all kinds. Our players inspire us to keep looking for new ways to tell universal stories, and to continue to invite collaboration and creativity from all kinds of Simmers to help shape the game we all love. For this edition of You Make the Sims we’re sitting down with SixamCC to take a look at what inspired the Storybook Nursery Kit and how he and The Sims team brought it to life!

SixamCC (also known as Alex) is well-known in The Sims community as a custom content creator and 3D Digital artist. A lover of both video games and Japanese fluffy pancakes–a winning combination, tbh–SixamCC works in the creative field and spends his free time creating CC for the community he loves..

Like many players, SixamCC was introduced to the game by a family member, and knew from that first playthrough it was going to be one of his favorite games.

THE SIMS TEAM: Tell us about how you were first introduced to The Sims and what inspired you to start making custom content.

SIXAMCC: My cousin was a big fan of The Sims at the time, and she told me about The Sims 2 and how fun it was. She told me all about the endless possibilities and opportunities to tell every imaginable story with the game, which sounded fascinating to me. One day, she brought the Deluxe CD to my house and got me to install it. Ever since then, I knew it was one of my favorite games.

I’ve always wanted to make my own custom content for my Sims, but I never had the time to get into it. During the 2020 lockdown, I finally decided to try it out, and I found the process so fascinating and fun.

THE SIMS TEAM: Kit collaborations are some of our favorite things to work on, because of amazing creators like you who pitch a concept to The Sims team. As a creator, how do you approach creating a new concept from scratch?

SIXAMCC: I always ask myself what kind of stories I want to tell with the concepts I design. I like to go beyond just decorating a room. I think the game allows you to create your own stories without needing specific new gameplay, which is why I aim for my ideas to have something unique and interesting to explore.

THE SIMS TEAM: How did the idea of ‘legacy’ play into what you wanted to create?

SIXAMCC: I truly believe our most iconic Sims characters have set the perfect example of legacy; Bella and Mortimer have shared a story that has stood the test of time and distance, we’ve seen them in different life stages throughout the games. This is what inspired me to create this Kit—a space, or in this case a nursery room, where every legacy story can take place.

THE SIMS TEAM: What kinds of stories do you hope to see Simmers tell with this pack?

SIXAMCC: I want players to have the chance to expand their legacy storytelling in any way they dream of. I've seen some truly amazing family trees from players who’ve spent years crafting the perfect legacy family, and I think that’s just fantastic. This kit is perfect for kicking off a new generation and keeping it going strong.

For those who’ve never tried it before, I invite you to start with this kit . I know it can be tough to say goodbye to our favorite Sims, but sometimes that’s part of the fun of creating new stories. (And hey, you can always bring them back to life!)

THE SIMS TEAM: You've created so many wonderful items for children and infants in the past; what interests you the most about designing and making objects for younger Sims?

SIXAMCC: Making content for younger Sims is just fun. You can experiment with different silhouettes and bright colors, and still provide swatches and options for more serious players. I feel like my creativity flows more freely when I work on content for kids. I also love to hear from my community and they’ve been pretty clear about loving children's items.

THE SIMS TEAM: This kit has a real air of elegance to it; is there a particular object you knew you had to include to make this feel like an elevated nursery?

SIXAMCC: Oh what a difficult question, the truth is that each of the elements that make up this kit are perfect and I can't imagine any of them being left out. But if I had to choose I think it would be the canopy, I'm sure the players will use it to give that extra bit of elegance to their little ones rooms.

The canopy taking center stage in this pink and white colorway of the Storybook Nursery kit.

THE SIMS TEAM: Do you have a favorite detail or easter egg you’d be willing to share?

SIXAMCC: I love all the easter eggs in this Kit, I would like to mention them all! I won’t spoil them! but I think one of my favorites without a doubt is the hanging mobile where, if you zoom in close enough, we can actually see Bella in the hot air balloon. It certainly brings back a lot of nostalgic feelings from The Sims 2.

THE SIMS TEAM: You’ve collaborated with other Sims community members in the past; are there any creators you’d really love to work with some day?

SIXAMCC: I could start listing all the people that come to mind, and we’d probably run out of time for the interview, haha. There are so many talented Simmers I admire, both as individuals and as content creators, modders, and other CC creators. I’d absolutely love to work with all of them, but the truth is, I’m super shy and I always hesitate when I think of asking. (Some people are going to laugh when they read this, but I promise it’s true!)

For now I can say that I would love to collaborate with Juno Birch and Trixie Mattel; I love their style and I think something extremely cool and unique would come out of it.

THE SIMS TEAM: For anyone who’d like to start creating their own digital art, is there any advice you’d give them?

SIXAMCC: (Looks at the camera) You, yes, you, don’t overthink it, just do it.

Honestly, it can seem scary, but the most important thing is to just dive in and give it a shot. There are so many places out there now where you can get help and learn whatever you need. And as they say, practice makes perfect, right? It doesn’t have to be perfect on the first try.

THE SIMS TEAM: You answers have been so great, so let’s end on a truly tricky question:

You can only pick ONE!

SIXAMCC: This is a tough one because Jenni, from The Sims team, made me love the possum that we made for this kit, but I think I'll probably choose a sloth one because it's my absolute favorite animal.

The council of the eight plushies awaits your decision: If you can only choose one, who are you choosing?

Thank you to SixamCC for his time, thoughtful answers, and for all the work he did to bring the beautiful Storybook Nursery Kit to life with The Sims 4 team! Choose your very own favorite stuffed animal friend and level up your legacy with this kit when it releases later this month.

The Sims 4 Storybook Nursery Kit will be available for purchase beginning September 19 in The Sims 4 on PC and Mac® via EA app, Epic Games Store, Steam®, PlayStation®5, PlayStation®4, Xbox Series X|S and Xbox One systems.

[winniethewife]

It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 3: How wonderful life is while you're in the world

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Thanks to @reallyrallyauthor for turning me onto the Pic.

Warning: sex mentioned, aftercare.

Words: 1159

Steven and I were having a day in. Sitting next to each other in bed while we each individually reading. I glance over at him at the same time he glances at me and I smile.

“You a’right there love?” He gives me his usual cheeky grin and soft Puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, I’m good baby.” I lean in and kissed his cheek. “I love our lazy days. Just you me and a couple good books.”

“Me too. It’s nice, but I am having a little bit of a hard time focusing on my book.” Steven says with a chuckle

“Yeah and why’s that?” I put the bookmark in my book and smile at him as he does the same.

“Well, with you sitting right here, In these cute little PJ shorts…” his hand glides up my thigh as his hand reaches the edge of the shorts she slides his hand along the edge teasing.

“Well… I didn’t mean to be distracting baby…” I smile at him and move to straddle him on the bed making him instantly blush. “Does this help?” I tease.

“Uhm…depending on your definition on help?” His hand landing instinctually on my hips, as his face flushes brighter and her looks up at me biting his lip slightly. “Gods you’re beautiful. Just my luck innit? Getting to see you every day…we’re just really lucky to have you.”

“And I’m lucky to have you, all of you.” I say softly as I lean in and kiss him softly on the nose. And then on the lips. A small whimper leaving his lips as I taste his lips. I slide my tongue over his bottom lip to encourage him, his lips part and I take the opportunity. Our tongues played together, my hands go up into his hair as his hands run up my back pulling me in closer. Just then the bedroom door creaks open and Layla chuckles

“You two getting busy without me?’ She teased.

“What did you want to join?” I asked with a smirk as Steven turned an even deeper shade of red.

“I think…I wanna watch.” Layla says seductively as she takes a seat on the bed opposite us. “If that’s okay with you Steven.”

“Y-yeah...Of course Love.” He managed to stutter out.

~

When Steven and I went on our first date I had already decided I was telling them yes but figured it was only fair to give everyone a chance.  Steven and I met at the local Science and History museum. I was a little nervous, I was meeting Steven for the first time, what if…

“Sorry, so sorry I’m late love.” The British accent made my heart leap in my chest, he wore his curls loose, a kind of goofy patterned shirt under a over shirt, he was adorable, something I would never say of his other two alters.

“It’s alright, I didn’t even notice.” I smiled as I turned to him.

“Woah, you look amazing!” He looked me over, I laughed, just a dressy top and Jeans was apparently enough to wow him.

“Thanks Steven. I’m glad to finally meet you.”  I took a step closer and gave him a hug, which he reciprocated with the most adorable surprised sound

“I-It’s good to meet you too.”

As we make our way through the museum Steven is listing off facts and telling me interesting stories about almost everything we come across. At some point he’s explaining something about the formation of the quartz in front of us when I reached for his hand taking it in my own and weaving my fingers in between his. He stuttered for a second as he looked down at my hand and smiles softly.

“That’s nice…I like that.”

“I thought you might.”

“You’re…I mean…I really like you.” Steven looks at me with a shimmer in his eye, a smile on his lips as he squeezes my hand

“I really like you too Steven.”

“That’s good…Can I…Can I keep holding you hand?” He asked innocently

“I’d like that.” I smiled.

~

I was heavily panting, Steven also breathing heavy on top of me as we ride out our highs, My eyes look over his upper body covered in marks from our love making, I lean up and kiss him softly, a soft moan leaves his lips. I feel a soft touch on my face and I see Layla out of the corner of my eye, her dark eyes filled with love.

“Ya helo, look at you…so pretty under him...” She murmurs

“Layla…” I look over at her and reach out to hold her hand as Steven leaves kisses along my neck, he cuddles in close, his naked body against mine as Layla leans in kissing me softly, soft lips on mine, our fingers woven together as she leans in. the Smell of her Egyptian musk perfume tickles my senses as she drags her fee hand along my chest.

“My beautiful girls, I just can’t get enough…” Steven caresses Layla’s hair and Kisses my neck again. I softly moan into the kiss as he sloppily glides his tongue along my neck. Layla chuckles slightly in to the kiss before puling away, I let out a soft whimper of protest.

“Shhh…that’s it pretty girl, be good for me now, I’m gonna go start dinner.” Layla says as she runs her thumb across my lip before giving Steven a quick kiss on the shoulder and heading out of the room. Steven looked at me with a loving look in his eye. His soft expression is endearing. I lean in and give him another soft kiss. Running my fingers through his dark curls.

“I love you…” He says softly as he presses his forehead to mine.

“I love you too…I always will.” I reply with my hands still in his hair. He lets out a soft chuckle.

“Will you always be happy like this? We’re married to Layla…We can never marry you…Doesn’t that bother you?” Steven asks with genuine sadness in his eyes.

“No it doesn’t, Steven I don’t need to be married to be happy. I’m happy just being with you. My life is better with you all in it and that’s all I need.” I stroke his face gently as I say this in an attempt to reassure him.

“That’s…That’s good.” He smiles relieved and gives me a soft quick kiss. “You know we’d marry you too…If you wanted…Jake thinks about you in white all the time.” He chuckles softly, I can imagine Jake cussing him out for telling.

“Does he now? Well, sometimes in the poly community we do things like commitment ceremonies, they’re just like weddings but nothing legal about them really.”

“That sounds nice. Maybe someday we’ll do something like that yeah?”

“Yeah maybe someday.” I smiled at the eager look in his eye, I get the feeling Jake might not be the only one who wants to see me in white.

~

Translations:

Ya Helo: my beautiful

Masterlist

Next Chapter

[my-head-is-an-animal]

The Climb

Summary: You're a scientist, an engineer to be exact. Called to a meeting you had no real right to be at, Optimus Prime takes an exclusive interest in you, but you can't help but ask yourself at every turn, Why?

Rating: 18+ 🌹🩸🍆

Story Masterlist

Chapter 2

‘So, what did he say?’ Theo asked, excitedly, his curly brown hair dangling in front of his thin framed glasses as it always did.

     He hopped onto my bed, crossed his legs and waited for me to tell him about Optimus Prime and the task that now lay ahead of me. I told him everything, including how scared I was that I wouldn’t be able to complete my task.

     ‘Oh my God, you’re going to work with Optimus Prime!’ He squealed, making me laugh, reminding me that this was the opportunity of a life time. ‘You have to call every chance you get and tell me how it’s going.’

     ‘Well, I was kind of hoping you’d stay and help me?’ I asked, knowing Theo would lose his mind as the prospect. And he did. He fell back laughing and squealing yes.

     ‘Oh my God,’ he sat up bolt right. ‘I’m going to work with Optimus Prime!’ He suddenly realised and it only spurred him on to start talking about the kind of person we needed to find.

     ‘I want to ask Lennox to take us through a climbing session.’ I said, sipping the wine Theo had stashed away in case all went well. ‘I think we need to properly understand what it is we’re asking them to do.’

     ‘Good idea’ Theo nodded.

     I sent a message to Lennox and the very next morning he scheduled us in for a light training session with his team.

     When we arrived at the hanger the next day, after having set up our new office, which was basically a janitor’s closet, Lennox met up with us and drove us to the training complex. Theo was excited to see Bumblebee and Hound hanging out with some of the soldiers, making Lennox chuckle.

     ‘We figured you scientists wouldn’t have packed for a gym session, so you can borrow some gear.’ He said, handing over a vest and shorts to both myself and Theo. I hadn’t expected his whole team to be there and suddenly I was extremely nervous.

     We got changed and headed out to training area. There were obstacle courses, running tracks, weights and more importantly for us, a climbing wall.

     ‘The alien ship won’t have nearly as many places to grab onto, but this will give you an idea of how difficult it will be regardless.’ Lennox explained as we walked past the wall towards the running track. Both Theo and I were confused. ‘We gotta warm up first.’ He said as if it were obvious.

     Theo and I weren’t runners, I was exhausted the day before just going up the stairs to talk to Optimus.

     Sergeant Epps seemed to be the only one who was immediately stepping forward to help us through the session. The track was hard, but Lennox’s team, made sure to encourage us both to complete a least a circuit. We were exhausted by the end whereas the soldiers were barely out of breath.

     ‘You got this.’ Epps said, helping Theo back up to his feet. ‘Just keep breathing, nice and slow.’

     ‘You good?’ Lennox asked me. I nodded, trying to take slow deep breaths as Lennox handed me a bottle of water. ‘Make sure you stay hydrated, last thing you want is to pass out before we even get to the wall.’ He offered a sympathetic smile and I suddenly realised that I was incredibly ill-equipped to do any of this.

     We moved onto the obstacle course, Lennox’s team completed it in almost record time, doubling back to help myself and Theo through every step. Climbing the rope was where I got into the most trouble, but Lennox was below me calling up to take it one step at a time. Epps was at the top ready to pull me up the second he could.

     ‘That’s it, come on now, just a little further.’ He called down to me. I took another deep breath and reached up moving my feet up below me to grip the rope. ‘It’s all in the legs, let them do the work. Keep pushing.’

     Epps kept me going until finally he could reach me and hoist me up to the top. I could hear Lennox’s team cheering for myself and Theo, but my body was almost depleted.

     ‘Nice job.’ Epps nodded, again, barely out of breath. ‘Next step is the descent.’ I looked over to what he was referring to, it was a series of logs that I would need to hop across. ‘It’s all in the legs, Harding, just use your arms for balance. You got this.’

     Epps took the first step and I supposed we didn’t have a choice. Theo and I looked at each other before picking ourselves up and following behind.

     By the time we were done, Lenox and his team were standing with Bumblebee, Hound and Drift, all of them ready to help us through the wall climb.

     We took a short break where Theo and I took on some more water, and Lennox took us through how to climb the wall properly. Epps began strapping us both into the harnesses as he spoke.

     ‘You can take as much time as you need, just make sure you know where you’re placing your foot and secure it before pushing off. Got it?’ Lennox asked. Both he and Epps quickly strapped themselves into their own harnesses to make the climb with us.

     A couple members of his team went first, ascending speedily and making it look so much easier than I knew it would be.

     Finally, it was mine and Theo’s turn. Epps and Lennox stood beside us and made sure to stick with us the whole way up. The first few feet were fine, Theo realised his sudden fear of heights and so struggled more with keeping his feet secure, I was just struggling with exhaustion.

     ‘You good? You need a minute?’ Lennox asked beside me. I took a few deep breaths and the temptation to give up was pulling at me. ‘It’s okay, you’ve done a great job all things considered.’

     That made me chuckle. ‘I can’t believe this is a light session for you guys.’ I panted.

     ‘Yeah, we train pretty hard, but we all started somewhere.’ He tried to say encouragingly. ‘A lot of us couldn’t even make it up the wall first time.’

     ‘Really?’ I was surprised at that.

     ‘It’s not easy to get your body to push through its limits, but you’re doing it.’ Lennox gave me another minute to rest.

     ‘This is what it’s going to take isn’t it?’ I asked before we went any further. ‘The moment you want to give up and you keep going anyway.’

     Lennox nodded. ‘Mind over matter.’

     My body was exhausted, depleted of everything, I had nothing left to give, but I couldn’t stop. If I stopped then I would be proven wrong, human endurance wouldn’t be what I thought it was, but if I could make it to the top, me, someone who had never climbed a wall in her life or done much in the way of exercise, then I would know it was possible.

     ‘You wanna stop? There’s no shame if you do.’ Lennox told me, sincerely.

     I took another breath. ‘No.’ I shook my head, looking up to see I still had a minimum of eighty feet to climb. The wall was one hundred and thirty feet in total and it had looked monstrous from the ground. ‘I’m going to make it to the top.’

     Lennox just smiled. ‘Well okay then. Let’s go.’

     It took nearly an hour, my body was shaking, giving everything I didn’t have left and more. I stopped a couple of times, but kept reminding myself that anything was possible if you put your mind to it.

     I could hear Lennox’s men cheering me on and it was only then that I realised Theo hadn’t made it. Epps had taken him back down to the bottom where they both watched me climb higher and higher.

     ‘Come on, just a few more steps.’ Lennox pushed me.

     My legs were like lead, I couldn’t lift them and I’d never wanted to give up so much in my life. I lifted my leg to find the next step, but missed and slid down, catching onto whatever I could grab.

     ‘You okay?’ Lennox called, moving down to where I’d fallen. I could feel blood trickling down my knees from where I’d scraped them against the wall. ‘Easy, easy, just take a breath and place your foot onto the ledge below you.’ I did as he said and felt the tears streaming down my face, it was just too hard. ‘You can do this, you’ve done this bit before, it’ll be a breeze now.’

     I couldn’t find the will to laugh, I couldn’t even find it in me to acknowledge he’d said anything at all. I managed to secure myself again and found myself panting harder than ever, I was crying and sweating and there was nothing else.

     ‘Come on, Harding, don’t give up now.’ Lennox commanded me.

     I looked up to see how much further there was to go, it just looked so far, but it was maybe only twenty feet or so. I placed my foot into the next crevice and pushed myself up.

     ‘That’s it, we don’t quit when we’re this close.’ Lennox cheered.

     I placed my foot again and pushed up. Every step was more agonising than the last, my legs just weren’t built for this kind of endurance, in fact, I wasn’t built for this kind of test. I pushed and pushed and pushed again, knowing that every time was me giving the last of my energy, but I was so close. I couldn’t give up now.

     Finally, I was there. I was a step away from the top where Lennox’s team where yelling and cheering that I’d come so far. I placed my hand on the next ledge and with anything that my body had left to give, I forced my legs to push me up to the very top. Lennox had helped me get my body up onto the top of the wall, where I just lay staring up at the blue sky above, unable to lift any part of myself.

     ‘You did it.’ Lennox kneeled over me, smiling and only a little out of breath. ‘You made it to the top, Harding.’

     I kept breathing, trying to smile, but it was too hard. I could see nothing but a blue sheet above me and all I wanted to do was go to sleep.

     ‘Can’t sleep now.’ Lennox chuckled. ‘We still gotta get you down.’

     I felt my whole body groan.

     ‘Don’t worry, it’s easy, all you have to do is fall.’ Lennox helped me sit up and drink some water, my arms wouldn’t work on their own and he needed to hold the bottle for me, but at least my body was getting something of some energy back.

     Lennox’s team nodded and some patted my shoulder as they made their way back down the wall, all in acknowledgment of the challenge I’d just faced. They knew it was a tough climb any way, but to do it in the way I had done was a feat in itself.

     I looked out at the horizon and to my surprise, I saw Optimus Prime walking towards the wall with Bumblebee.

     ‘He was watching the whole thing.’ Lennox told me as he prepared me to drop down from the wall. ‘I think he’s impressed. I know I am. Good job, Harding.’

     I couldn’t speak, I was too tired, I needed whatever was left to make the descent. Lennox helped me manoeuvre my body over the edge to drop down gently. It was much quicker going down than it was going up, but my legs were too weak to hold me steady once I reached the ground.

     I felt a cool, metallic hand gently stop me from falling to hard onto the ground and vaguely recognised the outline as Optimus Prime, kneeling to catch me.

     ‘Rest now, Dr Jane Harding.’ He said and I felt my eyes closing.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[heliads]

Hello Could i request Genya x Fem!Reader where Y/N is Nikolai's little sister and just about Genya's age so they used to play together a lot when they were little. Since Y/N was from the royal family she had little to no freedom and 0 opportunity to make friends, so Genya was her only one and they grew up together. I just picture her sneaking into Genya's room and climbing into her bed when she had a nightmare because the queen didn't like her sleep being disturbed and Genya braiding her hair until she calms down. Nnow that they're older, they're slowly learning that this friendship could be something more. Just a very soft childhood bestfriends to lovers, you know? Thank you anyway

'my home is you' - genya safin

masterlist

A lot is expected of the princess of Ravka. She must sit straight in every assembly, no matter how long or tedious the function. She must be able to converse with foreign dignities without seeming too exuberant or, worse still, not interested enough in many hours’ worth of old war stories. She must connect with her people, but still float above each and every crowd. And, most pressingly of all, she must be able to learn a hundred state secrets and then abstain from the urge to immediately gossip about them with her oldest friend. Especially if that friend is a Tailor and a lady’s maid to boot.

Genya Safin sits across the small round table from you, fingers idly tapping on the creamy tablecloth. In front of her rests a teacup, mostly untouched. Neither of you are here for the tea itself, more the information that comes with each and every delicate china cup. In the process of growing up and into your role as the darling princess of Ravka, you’ve been doing your best to maintain decorum. It would be wrong to immediately spill your true feelings on the latest round of political appointees to Genya. It would also be exactly what you want to do.

You take a sip from the cup in front of you as a way to buy yourself time. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into when you invited Genya over to your quarters for tea, but you’d like to at least try to hold out for as long as possible. You can do this. You don’t have to tell your best friend everything.

“Nice weather we’re having,” you muse.

Genya arches a brow. “Indeed. It was also nice out last night at the diplomat’s ball, was it not?”

“It was,” you state, eyeing her cautiously.

The corners of Genya’s mouth flash up into a barely obscured smile. “You looked lovely that night. Have you captured the hearts of any more suitors?”

You feel your cheeks heat up and look away, eyeing the pattern woven into the tablecloth even more thoroughly than before. Every girl blushes to discuss potential suitors with her friends, but for some reason, discussing the men and women that you may marry feels even more embarrassing in front of Genya. 

Although you love talking over anything and everything with the redhead, there’s something about your marriage prospects that feels almost wrong to bring up in front of her. You want to guard her from it, almost, pretend as if you’ll never have to be married off even though both of you know it’s only a matter of time. You’re a princess, and at some point, you may even be queen. Although your two older brothers will likely fight amongst themselves for that title far before you could ever claim it, you’ll still have plenty of merit as a political pawn.

So, when it becomes clear that Genya is still waiting for an answer, you sigh and give in. “Yes, Genya, I danced with several young men. Charming, all of them.”

Genya gives you a knowing look. “Really? All of them were charming?”

The teasing lilt of her voice brings down the last of your walls in one final tug. “No,” you admit in a rush, “They were terrible, Gen. Like you wouldn’t believe. The first one stepped on my feet five times in one waltz. Another wouldn’t stop preaching the virtues of Kerch beer, as if I’d ever willingly drink anything other than kvas or champagne. And the last one–”

You break off into a shudder. Genya leans forward, evidently delighted. “What did he do to be worse than the others? Did he actively declare war on Ravka?”

“Worse,” you grimace, “He said his sister was prettier than I was and offered to put me in touch with her so she could give me some beauty tips.”

Genya’s jaw drops. “No way. He couldn’t possibly have done such a thing.”

“He did,” you declare, still horrified over the memory even though it happened many hours ago, “I mean, it’s already a terrible faux pas to say someone isn’t pretty, but to say that his sister was better– There’s so many problems there, Genya. So many.”

“So many,” Genya agrees, laughing. “Oh, that’s horrific. You poor thing.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” you say crossly, “I have been suffering. And yes, I am quite aware that it sounds foolish to complain of being the belle of a ball, but I was deeply unhappy the whole time.”

Genya smiles again, just barely managing to suppress her laughter. “I’m not making fun of you, darling, you know I could never do that. I just think it’s funny that you’re hung up on some boy who’s that blind. I couldn’t fathom looking at you and not being blown away. You’ve always been pretty to me.”

“Because of your handiwork?” You ask, one brow raised.

Genya shakes her head definitively. “A little bit, maybe, I shan’t deny my talents, but not completely. You’re a lovely, lovely girl. Even when you’re gossiping about political matters that you had better keep to yourself.”

You poke her in the arm. “You can’t chide me for gossiping, Genya, when you’ve been practically dragging the information out of me. You’re a terrible influence.”

She grins broadly. “Don’t I know it? And don’t give me that look, Y/N, I think you need my terrible influence. It makes you well-rounded if you’re both angelic and terrible.”

You laugh quietly to yourself. “Well, I appreciate your efforts. I’m sure the suitors will be glad of it.”

Genya’s smile slips slightly. “Yes, of course. The suitors.”

For some reason, the look on her face makes your stomach twist in an infinity of knots, so you quickly change the subject in an effort to see her smile at least one more time. “So you’ve been at this from the very start, huh? Even when we were children, your end goal was always to improve my character?”

“Always,” Genya snorts, “But maybe I just wanted a friend.”

“That too,” you smile softly. 

You’ve known Genya for a very long time indeed. Talking about the early days now brings back a rush of memories. You were just a little girl when Genya was brought to the palace, and you got along with her instantly. Both of you were about the same age, and although you were quiet around each other at first, it didn’t take long before you were the best of friends.

The Grand Palace of Os Alta wasn’t the friendliest place for a girl to grow up, especially not when you were under the influence of so much political pressure. For once, though, you didn’t spend endless cold winters walking by yourself through the empty halls. Genya was there, and Genya swore that you would never be alone again. From what you’ve seen, she intends to keep that promise for as long as you both may live.

Your parents were always busy with their lives as royals, so you didn’t see much of them. Your older brother Vasily was difficult, less pleasant to be around than not, so you avoided him as much as you could. Nikolai was much better, but he was gone before you knew it, off to the army and university. He was genuinely sorry to leave you, but he left anyway. Genya never left.

You have many, many memories of waking up in the cold darkness of your room, desperately alone and in need of company after a bad dream. You had tried to wake up the queen when you couldn’t sleep once and only once; your knuckles still smart from the memory of that mistake. Instead, on nights like those, you’d sneak into Genya’s room. She’d pull you under the covers so she could braid your hair with neat, skillful fingers, or you would talk quietly until both of you fell asleep.

There had been lovely days when the two of you explored the castle grounds, finding secret rooms or deserted corridors. After you were taught ballroom dance by the prickly dance master your parents employed, you dragged Genya out to one of the many ballrooms so the two of you could waltz around the empty space, twirling until you were dizzy and fell down, laughing, to the ground.

And then you had blinked and both of you were older, almost adults and expected to make your way in the world. Genya is still a constant in your life, but she’s different somehow. She’s more than a friend, but not quite a sister, something more. It’s a feeling you’ve never experienced before, even when presented with the most dashing of princes.

It’s a feeling that keeps repeating itself, over and over again when you least expect it. You try to push it from your mind, but then Genya does her hair differently and your heart won’t stop stumbling over itself. There is a lot demanded from you as princess, but when you’re with Genya, every stress is banished from your mind. All you can do is think about her, how to make her happy, how to chase each and every one of her smiles like seeing even one more will make you live forever.

This is wrong. You know who you are and what is expected of you, your future. The king and queen will pick out a noble or royal and you’ll marry them. Odds are, they won’t even be from Ravka, and you’ll disappear from your home forever to end up on strange lands, cursed to forever wander the halls of a palace that will always be unfamiliar to you. You’ll go to sleep with a stranger by your side, and when you close your eyes at last, you’ll dream of a girl with hair like burnished copper who used to know you better than anyone else, who you’ll never see again.

The future is terrifying, so you ignore it as best you can. No marriage proposals have been finalized, so you don’t have to think about them. Why should you, in fact, when Genya is here to tease you about your speeches at upcoming political banquets and endlessly dream up new ways to style your hair so she can stay close to you for as long as possible. You don’t have to think about anything else but her. You don’t need anyone else but her.

The thoughts feel as if they might consume you whole. You’ve started sleeping less and less, because whenever you dream, your mind torments you of visions in which you are married, but not to some nameless prince, but a girl with fiery hair who smiles at you like she loves you because she does. In your dreams, you have a home together just for the two of you, a home where no one bothers you or separates you. It is a paradise, and every time you wake up, you weep for the life you could have had.

It hurts to wake up from the dream and remember that it will never be yours, so you’ve started pushing off sleep in order to avoid that awful recollection that Genya is not yours, not like that, not ever. Dark circles form under your eyes; Genya fixes them every morning, chiding you for not going to bed early enough, but you never tell her that it’s done on purpose so you won’t be haunted by her.

She must guess at it, though, or at least be able to tell that the loss of sleep is your fault, because one evening when you’re about to push off unconsciousness for yet another night, Genya knocks on your door and announces that she’ll be forcing you to take care of yourself since you seem to be allergic to doing it yourself. When you stammer about it not being proper, she just laughs and says that you’ve been doing this for years, so how could you care about it being proper now?

You’ve never been able to argue with her, not really, so you push off the last of your principles and let her lead you back to bed like you’re a child again and still in need of her to make you safe again. You still need her like that, of course, but it’s different now. Everything is different now.

You let out an involuntary sigh of relief when your head hits the pillow. It’s been a long day, of a long string of long days, and the thought of sleep is, admittedly, quite wonderful at a time like this.

“See?” Genya chides from beside you, “You can let yourself rest, Y/N, no one will die because you decided to get a proper night’s sleep.”

“I know,” you mumble.

“Then why haven’t you been allowing yourself to go to bed?” She presses.

You look away. “Just busy, I guess.”

You can feel the weight of Genya’s stare burning into the side of your head even without looking directly at her. She has always been able to see directly through your lies, hasn’t she? “Just busy, huh? With what?”

“Princess things,” you mutter vaguely. “We have to, uh, think of suitors.”

Immediately, Genya goes stiff beside you. “Suitors? Now? Isn’t that a little early?”

You hate yourself for saying it, for ruining this moment, but it was the first thing that popped into your head. “I guess, but you can’t be too sure. It’s an important decision.”

“Most marriages are meant to be happy,” Genya comments, “Will yours be happy?”

There are many answers that you should give her. Yes. Of course. I’ll find a way. However, what comes out is a desperate, broken, “No.”

Genya lets out a quiet breath, reaching out an arm to pull you closer to her. “Why not?”

Your head is tucked against her collarbone, and you can hear the even rhythm of her heartbeat like a drum guiding you to peace. You don’t have it in you to lie, not anymore, so you whisper in the stillness of this shared night:  “Because it won’t be you.”

It is silent. Absolutely silent. The sound of Genya’s heartbeat seems a hundred times louder in the face of all that quiet. Genya has never had a problem saying the perfect thing as long as you’ve known her, but right now, not a single word comes to her lips. You wait for her to tell you that it’s okay, you wait for her to say anything, but nothing happens. You imagine a thousand scenarios– her, hating you forever, breaking that promise to never leave your side because you’ve done that first by being so stupid as to fall in love– each one worse than the one before it, each one capable of tearing your heart into a million awful pieces.

You should leave. It’s your room, but she doesn’t leave. If she wanted you, she would surely have said something by now. You start to pull away, but just when you’ve lifted your head enough that you can see her face, you realize that she doesn’t look angry at all, not in the slightest. In fact, she’s– she’s smiling.

You sit up slightly. Genya follows suit. “You want it to be me?” She asks at last, voice quiet from disbelief.

“I’ve always wanted it to be you,” you confess. “Is that okay?”

You’ve never seen a sunrise as bright as her expression right now. “Y/N, it’s more than okay,” she declares. “It’s fantastic.”

“Fantastic?” You repeat carefully.

“Fantastic,” she confirms. “I love you, Y/N. I love you more than anything.”

You have heard stories of people having their best and brightest dreams come true, of explorers discovering uncharted territories, of brave generals winning wars and soldiers coming home to their sweethearts. This one night blows all of them away. Right now, you think you are happier than anyone has ever been in their lives. The only person who could rival your sheer delight is Genya, and so long as she’s here with you, you know that you won’t have to fear unhappiness ever again.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @budugu, @aoi-targaryen

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Hello can I request a jason voorhees x reader oneshot were the reader is like mabel pines, a silly goofball ray of sunshine and they have a brother who is the complete opposite and he wants to try and spot the infamous crystal lake killer so he and the reader joins a school trip to the camp for a week and the brother is annyied at how social and silly the reader us and he just stays in his cabin looking up ways to catch jason and the reader goes out to a flower field to make flower crowns and sees him, not knowing that it's jason voorhees and sneaks behind him and places a flower crown on his head and over the week the see eachother in secret and on the last day the brother is frustrated and gives up on finding jason but then the reader shows up on jasons shoulders and is like "hey bro meet my new boyfriend, Jay"

Sounds like a lot of fun 😁

Jason with a Mabel and Dipper Pines-like duo

You always teased your brother for his obsession with serial killers and the supernatural, and you don’t intend on stopping soon.

Coming to Camp Crystal Lake had been his idea; right now, he was convinced that he could somehow catch the legendary Crystal Lake killer.

You didn’t really care either way; this was a summer camp, and that meant so many opportunities for fun!

“And remember, keep your eyes peeled”, your brother cautioned you as you stepped off the bus.

“Aw, don’t worry. I can take care of myself.” You poked him in the ribs and blew a raspberry, which caused him to roll his eyes.

“This is serious!”

You giggled. “Come on, we should have fun!”

“You always have fun”, he grumbled, baffled by your ability to make a game of pretty much everything. “We’re not kids anymore, you know?”

“Alright, Mr. Adult. So just because we turned 18 last month, we have to always be super serious?”

Annoyed, he pushes a hunting knife into your hand. “Whatever. Keep this on you incase you need to defend yourself. I’ll go to our cabin to prepare for the hunt.”

Another girl from your highschool class catches up to you and dryly tells you:”You two are both weirdos.”

“Thanks for noticing!”, you tell her with the brighest, most sincere smile.

While your brother is busy “making plans”, you decide to explore a little. The forest around Crystal Lake is vast and full of interesting plants and critters. At some point, you find a small clearing where some beautiful flowers grow, and decide to make flower crowns to give to the other campers. Who doesn’t like a flower crown?

Once one is done, you spot a tall man walking through the forest around the clearing, and you figure that he must be part of the camp as well. So you quickly sneak up behind him and throw a flowercrown up on his head. It lands a bit askew, but it stays, and he stops and turns around, wide-eyed, once he touched the fragile crown and confirmed that it was indeed just flowers.

“Hi! Nice to meet you! Are you working at the camp?”

He doesn’t answer, so you think to yourself “oh, he’s the strong, silent type”.

“What’s your name?”, you ask further. Again, no reply, and you are so lost in the one-sided conversation that you don’t notice how absolutely baffled the man is at your friendliness.

Your brother is so caught up in his planning for the next few days that he doesn’t even question why you seem to disappear every day. But finally, the last day of camp has come, and he camee up with precisely nothing. Until you come back with Jason, casually holding his hand.

“Meet my new boyfriend!”

Your brother looks at you in horror. “Whaaaat the- Get away from him, that’s the killer!”

For a second, the bright smile fades form your face. “Rude.” But it returns as soon as you turn back to Jason. “Don’t listen to him. My brother is a bit crazy about these kinds of stories.”

And as you walk out with Jason by your side, your brother desperately tries to stammer out another warning, too terrified to speak clearly.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

July MC of the Month: Harper Gale

Please welcome our sixth MC of the month! Each month, we will highlight one MC or OC that is currently on our Meet My MC / OC List. The MC / OC is selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

This month's MC of the month is...

@karahalloway's Harper Gale!

To learn more about Harper and her creator, see below.

In your words, tell us what you like most about your MC. 

Probably the fact that she knows what she wants and doesn’t hesitate to go after it.

For instance, Harper has had a dream of going travelling around the world for several years, and at the start of (Un)Common Attraction (my somewhat modified rewrite of TRR1), she jumps at the opportunity to go to Cordonia, figuring that this is her chance to kickstart her around-the-world adventure. And even though things don’t exactly go to plan, Harper still tries to make the most of the opportunity at every turn.

She also realises relatively early on that she is much more interested in and feels like herself with Drake, and even though Drake tries to push her away — out of loyalty to Christian (my version of Liam) and in a bid to avoid a scandal — Harper refuses to take ‘no’ for an answer, knowing that Drake has feelings for her too, and eventually convinces him to come around. Obviously, the press scandal on the night of the Coronation Ball throws a massive wrench in the works, but Harper refuses to throw in the towel, despite a lot of proverbial sh*t hitting the fan.

Other things I like about Harper are that she has a very strong moral compass and will fight for what she thinks is right, even in the face of resistance from those she loves and cares about. And she has a big heart — she is always trying to find ways to surprise Drake, be moral support for Max, Hana and Christian, and is always the first to offer help, even if she doesn’t really like the other person.

Do you feel your MC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

As is the case for many authors and their OC, Harper and I share some similarities. We’re both curious, pragmatic, and down to earth, love to travel and have new experiences. We’re also both quite outdoorsy, love animals, as well as OTT action movies 😆 

However, Harper is a lot braver and a helluva lot more resilient than I am — I would never have taken Maxwell up on his offer to go to Cordonia for the social season, and I am not sure I would’ve coped with all the things she goes through in Cordonia the same way she did.

Also, while we both tend to say it like it is (and this gets us into awkward moments sometimes), Harper is a lot more outspoken than I am and will call out BS then and there, while I just do the silent eye-brow raise, akin to Drake 😅

What is most important to your MC? What is their motivation in life?

One of the most important things for Harper is being able to be herself. 

This was a big reason why she turned down Christian, because she couldn’t see herself living a ‘fake’ life whereby she had to constantly present an ‘idealised’ image of herself to the public, always having to watch what she said and did, and no longer being able to live a ‘free’ life (in my rewrite, for various reasons, I moved the timeline of this conversation up, so it takes place during the social season, rather than at the end of the engagement tour). 

This is also the reason why she gravitated towards Drake very early on — because Drake has always taken her at face value and never expected anything more from her other than exactly what she already was (whereas both the Beaumonts and Christian focus on, and try to use Harper’s status as a lady — and subsequently a duchess — to further their own ends, whether overtly, or covertly).

In terms of where I am with Harper’s story at the moment, her main motivations are clearing her name after the press scandal that broke during the Coronation Ball — in part to set the record straight and restore her reputation, and in part because she doesn’t want to have to keep hiding her relationship with Drake. Because this is kind of an all-consuming thing at the moment, she doesn’t really have mental space to think about more generic motivations 😅

What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

Harper’s biggest pet peeves are being made to feel like an idiot (which is the main reason why she has a hard time getting along with Bertrand, who is a perfectionist taskmaster when it comes to etiquette), and being woken up at stupid-o’clock in the morning for a stupid reason (she very much wants/needs her beauty sleep).

She also takes issue with the two-faced nature of the nobility — outwardly presenting perfection, while inwardly falling prey to infighting, lies, manipulation and entitlement. This is another reason why she gravitated towards Drake almost from the very start because both of them can see the rot of the aristocracy through the superficial glitz and glamour.

If your MC could change one thing - anything - what would it be? 

I’m not sure Harper would want to change anything — she believes that things happen for a reason and every cloud has a silver lining, even if you can’t see it at the time.

So even in the midst of her worst experiences, Harper is able to find some kind of light on the horizon (even if it feels intractably out of reach) and focuses on that to get her through whatever hardship she is facing.

What is your MC’s favorite quote or song? Harper has a lot of songs she likes to listen to, depending on her mood, but one of her favourites is Life is a Highway by Rascal Flatts. It very much captures her attitude of freedom, adventure, and curiosity, and the belief that great things are waiting for you if you’re willing to step outside of your comfort zone:

Life's like a road that you travel on

When there's one day here, and the next day gone

Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand

Sometimes you turn your back to the wind

There's a world outside every darkened door

Where blues won't haunt you anymore

Where the brave are free and lovers soar

Come ride with me to the distant shore

Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC:

I have had a ton of fun getting to know Harper over the 3 or so years that I’ve been exploring her view of the world. But like with any relationship️, you are always learning new things about each other, so I’m sure that as I continue fleshing out Harper and Drake’s story, I’ll learn new things about both of them ❤️ 

Because unlike some other characters I’ve written — who arrived fully formed — Harper actually developed somewhat slowly as an OC. For instance, when I started my TRR1 rewrite, I didn’t even know what she looked like, and it took me about a year to find an FC for her! 😅 

But from the very start, Harper has always had a very clear and distinct voice, which is part of the reason why I ended up writing her story from first-person POV. And the more I write her, the more I love her — almost like a sister — because she feels ‘real’. She has good qualities, yes, but she also has flaws — she can be too trusting, she isn’t always completely honest, she tends to overthink things, she gets heated and emotional and will rip into people (usually legitimately, but that doesn’t make the confrontation any less intense).

And I love her dynamic with Drake 😍 Nine times out of ten, their interactions just write themselves because even though in the big scheme of things, they haven’t known each other for that long, they are very in tune with each other and in many ways they are two sides of the same coin, which means that their interplay is always a perfect storm of snark, sexual tension, and humour.

To learn more about Harper, please see her character bio.

[strawberriemarswrites]

CHAPTER FOUR

Chapter Summary: You treat Bartolomeo to lunch, and you're pretty sure you're not reading too deep into how he interacts with you... Right? Pairing: Bartolomeo x F!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ for the story, SFW chapter) TW: None this chapter, unless you count misunderstandings. Or you're afraid of kitties. Ao3 Link: Chapter Four (3,411 words)

The place was a hole-in-the-wall diner near the subway station. You kept telling yourself that you’d try it sometime after work, given that it always smelled like fried food when you walked by. Now you had the perfect opportunity. Greasy burgers and fries weren’t the most romantic thing in the world, but you weren’t going for romantic. You were going for something that was cheap, filling, and within walking distance. Better to save anything ritzy or personal for when you knew for sure whether or not Bartolomeo was interested in you, or if you were even compatible. After all, you were trying to thank him, not scare him off.

The good news was that Bartolomeo was more than happy with the choice. He agreed to the location with all the enthusiasm of a kid being told he could get whatever he wanted from the toy store. With how quickly he showed up at your door, you had a feeling that he would have shown the same level of excitement if you’d picked gas station sushi. Even with the return of his cool and untouchable demeanor when you both stepped out the door, you didn’t miss how he kept glancing over at you during the whole walk to the diner. Like he was worried that you would fall behind with how big his stride was, or somehow get swept away by the moderate foot traffic.

Resisting the urge to hold his hand was easier said than done. Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the same thing.

In fact, for Bartolomeo it was agonizing, but he already felt like he toed the line of “too much” when he showed up at your door less than thirty minutes after you asked him out. He was trying to play it cool, though internally he was about ready to throw you over his shoulder and take you back home. Who cares that you both just sat down for food — he wanted to find out firsthand if his fantasies could compare to the real thing. 

He vigorously shook his head, trying to focus on the menu. Slow down, Barto. It’s just lunch. With her. In public. Where anyone can see and assume we’re—

“Everything okay?”

He looked up then quickly back down. Nevermind. He wasn’t sure he’d make it through lunch. Surely, he’d die of cuteness overload first.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just wonderin’ what to get.”

“Whatever you want,” you said, resting your cheek against your knuckles. “My treat, remember?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to go broke or nothin’.”

You smirked. “Are you planning on having one of everything?”

He shook his head. Just you.

“Then don’t worry, lunch with you isn’t gonna break the bank.” You looked down at the menu yourself and gave an exaggerated wince. “Maybe don’t order the steak.”

Bartolomeo’s responding laugh was low in his chest, a stark contrast from his usual loud and boisterous one but no less full of amusement. A pleasant shiver went up your spine at the sound, and you wondered what you’d have to do to hear more of it.

Once drinks were ordered, you leaned forward again and smiled, kicking your legs. “So, last night, I never got an answer to the whole ‘something you’re passionate about’ thing.”

From there, it was almost seamless. Bartolomeo told you about his interest in motorcycles, how he was saving up for one so he could get out of the city every now and then. You chatted about different places you knew from growing up in the suburbs, and where the best scenic roads were. You mentioned your free time was usually spent watching movies or playing video games, which led to him to go on for several minutes about the Yakuza Kiwami series and how he could lend you his copies. Then he talked about how his own free time now was usually spent helping his best friend Gambia, whose grandmother owned The Sound Barrier. When you told him you thought it was nice of him to help, he shrugged it off — he wasn’t nice, he just knew it’d be shitty not to help out someone who was practically his brother. You decided not to argue that he was nice, considering he barely knew you when he had offered to look out for you. Better to let him have his way so he could keep up the whole devil-may-care attitude.

By the time the food came out, you were more aware of the fact that Bartolomeo’s legs were stretched out far enough for his feet to be touching your side of the booth. His knees were wide apart, leaving your legs dangling between his. Feeling a bit more bold, you lifted and dropped one leg, letting your calf brush against his and watching carefully to gauge his response.

“By the way,” you said after inhaling a few fries, trying to remain nonchalant, “my friends seemed to like you. Nami especially. She thought what you did was hilarious.”

Bartolomeo shrugged, his ears turning pink. “Guy deserved it. I’d be a pretty bad bartender if I let that kind of shit go unpunished.” He then cracked a smile. “You should’a seen him after the switch. Dumbass didn’t even realize his drink was suddenly cider instead of beer and just kept drinking it.”

You laughed, covering your mouth. “No way, seriously? How fucked up did he get?”

He shrugged again. “Last I saw him he could barely stand from the barstool. Gambia had to throw him out the back door when we closed up. I didn’t tell him about what happened ‘til after.” He tore into his burger to keep from going into detail about what he did in the alley, and hoped to whatever god was out there you didn’t notice him shiver when your leg touched his.

You lifted your other leg, this time letting your foot nearly touch the underside of his knee before letting it drop back down. More color spread across his face, and his posture seemed to stiffen. Was that too much? You crossed your ankles and dug into your grilled cheese, thinking it might be better to see if he reciprocated the contact.

“Robin kept calling you ‘Rooster’ all night, so I know she likes you,” you continued. “She thought what you did was funny, too — said it was ‘unorthodox’ but deserved.”

Bartolomeo relaxed now that you weren’t making his heart race, and tried to appreciate the flattery behind your statement, but then he remembered the fourth member of your friend group. He felt the same knee-jerk jealousy that crept into his mind upon seeing him last night, and he had to force it back down before it made his shoulders turn to stone with the rising tension. “What about the big guy?”

“Drake? He actually saw the initial slip, then saw you switch before he could step in.”

His brow twitched, and he tried not to let the bitterness creep into his tone. “Sounds like a nice guy, if he was willin’ to get involved.”

You shrugged. “Last night was the first time I’d seen him outside of work, so I wasn’t sure how he’d do. He seems kind of protective though, thinks you went a little far.”

Bartolomeo could care less what he thought. You were grateful, and you were still here without a scratch on you, and that was what mattered. He kept his promise to look after you, and he was going to keep looking after you. No matter how “protective” anyone thought they were being if they decided to get in the way of that.

You finished your drink and continued, “I think he’s just more of a stickler for doing things the ‘right’ way, since he was also really worried about Nami scamming drinks off your other customers.” Your eyes widened and you covered your face. “Oh my god — she’s gonna kill me for telling you that.”

The loud, boisterous laugh was back, and Bartolomeo shook his head. “She’s not the first to try, won’t be the last.” He grinned, leaning forward and resting his cheek against his knuckles, the tension finally leaving his shoulders some. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Sweetheart. Your chest fluttered so suddenly it was almost painful. That had to mean something, for him to use it when it was just you two and outside of the bar. You giggled and smiled wide, unable to stop the floaty feeling in your chest from reaching your voice, “Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

He shrugged. “Hey, what’re friends for?”

A plate shattered in the kitchen.

You both flinched and Bartolomeo looked over his shoulder, meaning he missed your smile shattering to the floor. Friends. You were almost embarrassed, really — he just said his free time was spent helping his friend, so probably didn’t have the time for a relationship. He probably had no interest in one, either. 

It still stung like hell to hear it. Friends.

When Bartolomeo faced you again, something seemed different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something seemed just a little less radiant about your smile. “Everything okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Now why didn’t he believe that? He gave you a once-over, brow furrowed slightly. You had tucked your arms in a little closer to yourself, and he hadn’t felt your legs nudge against his for a bit. In the midst of his earlier euphoria over the gentle contact, it hadn’t occurred to him that maybe it was accidental, and now you were suddenly aware of how much space he occupied. While it hurt a little to think it wasn’t intentional, it made sense — maybe you didn’t want to rush things (even if he really, really wanted to). Not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable, he spread his legs a touch further. He already almost fucked up by letting his little guilty pleasure get out of hand, so he’d do anything to try and remedy it by getting to know you the normal way.

Even though doing anything the “normal” way didn’t suit him, Bartolomeo was determined to be at least a little bit good. Just for you. He didn’t want to scare you off.

You, however, were now certain you had spooked him. He had shifted his legs further apart, which in your mind proved that he didn’t reciprocate the earlier touches. Though trying to keep up the smile was starting to feel phony, you used it to hide your disappointment, slowly letting yourself sink into the seat. It was fine. This was fine.

You did your best not to let the walk home be awkward. You let Bartolomeo lead the conversation a bit more, listening to him describe other times he’d stopped creeps at the bar. Apparently, though infrequent, it happened enough that he and his friend had a system, and he’d technically gone off-script the night before. You considered asking why he’d done something different for you, before biting your tongue and considering otherwise. It was nice just to listen to him, and you were again reassured that regardless of whether you were friends or more that he’d watch out for you.

As you approached the apartment building, you paused, a very faint but familiar sound reaching your ears. Bartolomeo kept on for a few steps before stopping himself, turning to look at you. “You good?”

You nodded but said nothing, instead staring down the alley between the apartment and the neighboring building. 

He rejoined you and leaned to one side, his gaze following yours. “You sure about that?”

“I just thought I saw something,” you said, distracted.

Then you heard it again: a very faint, mewling sound.

With a gasp and no hesitation, you started down the alley.

“Ah — wait a sec!” Bartolomeo only had to take a few long strides to catch up, but he very nearly bolted out in front of you. “Where’re you going? The front door’s—”

You shushed him, putting up a finger and pausing to listen. The mewling came again, much closer and to your right. You turned and looked down, seeing a beat-up, damp box. The lid had been folded shut in a way that kept it closed without tape, but was clearly too much for the critter inside to break through. Falling to a crouch you shuffled toward it, ignoring the grit and grime of the concrete as you put your hands down on it to keep yourself balanced occasionally. 

Bartolomeo followed your lead, though you missed how his hands reached and retreated — something about the risk of you getting dirty made him nervous. To him, it was like you were reaching into a world you didn’t belong to. He wanted to keep you safe from it. He could get dirty all he needed, all he wanted, and if you were going to insist you do the same he doubted he could stop you. This was all sparked by what amounted to just gritty concrete and a dingy box, but he still couldn’t help but worry.

Carefully, you opened the box, and let out a high-pitched cry. “Barto, look!”

He peered over your shoulder, and nearly melted.

In the box was a very tiny kitten, black with orange speckles. It mewed, standing on its back legs and attempting to climb out of the box now that it was open, but it could barely reach the top edge.

You whimpered and reached in, letting the kitten sniff your fingers before petting its head. “Who left you here? Who’d be so mean?”

Bartolomeo leaned over you, trying not to let your bodies touch. He wanted so badly to pick you up and hug you with how you cooed and doted on a stray kitten, but he remembered how you looked in the diner, and that he was trying to be good. But goddamn, it was hard to resist. Instead, he reached past you and toward the kitten as well, mirroring your gesture and letting the kitten sniff his hand. 

“Poor little guy,” you said, before shrugging off your cardigan. “Barto, do you know if there’s a pet deposit?”

He was so distracted by the fuzzy, glittery bulbs he imagined around you that it took a moment to register that you asked a question. “What?”

“I’m taking him in. You think the landlord would mind?”

Bartolomeo blinked and struggled very hard not to get choked up. Of course you’d take in a stray kitten. You were so good. As you bundled up the kitten into your sweater, the fuzzy bulbs returned, and he felt like he was staring at a painting of a Madonna and child. How could he ever hope to measure up to that kind of goodness. The saint who’d given the sinner a chance — he was suddenly all too aware of how easily he could tarnish it.

He cleared his throat, regaining his composure with a shake of his head. “No — uh. I don’t know about a pet deposit, but it should be fine.”

You smiled, the light from it nearly blinding him. “Can you help me keep this little guy secret then? Between us friends? At least until I can either find a home for him or get him settled.”

Bartolomeo nodded eagerly, mirroring your smile. “Yeah, I can do that.”

And then it hit him. A secret between... friends?

Oh. Oh fuck. Friends.

Part of him? Ecstatic. Absolutely thrilled. Could not be happier to be considered your friend, and that was the honest truth. He was going to be the best damn friend you’d ever had.

Another part of him, however, cried out in anguish. How was he ever supposed to hope he could get close to you if you just thought of him as “friend”? Panic filled his veins. What could he have done different? Did he misinterpret the leg touching? Should he have reciprocated? Should he have let his body touch yours just a moment ago? Should he have told you the lengths he went to in order to ensure that creep from the night before never set foot in his bar again?

Oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck—

“Oh no.”

Your voice snapped Bartolomeo from his thoughts. He looked down at the kitten in your arms, and noticed it, too.

There was a cut under its left eye.

You gently tipped its head back, trying to get a better look at the crusted over gash. The kitten protested, wiggling a bit and mewling louder. Your heart ached — did someone hurt it, then try to abandon it when they realized they couldn’t? Or was it hurt from the start and someone decided they weren’t going to keep something that might actually take effort to take care of?

With a huff, you pushed yourself up and looked back toward the street. “Come on, let’s sneak him in! I’ll get him all cleaned up.”

Bartolomeo nodded and stood, still reeling internally with the mixed ecstasy and despair. With another shake of his head he recomposed himself, taking the lead out of the alley. He could tear himself apart internally over the word “friend” later. Right now, he was going to get you past the landlord.

It wasn’t all that hard to get the cat through the door and up the elevator. The landlord didn’t even seem to be in his office. You thanked Bartolomeo for the help, and he thanked you for lunch, and you parted ways in the hall as you set to work cleaning up the kitten. 

It served to be a nice distraction from the crushing feeling in your chest, checking it for fleas, disinfecting the cut, what its parts were (you had said “little guy” as a diminutive, but it turned out to be accurate). Once he was all dry, you took a picture and sent it to the group chat, asking for name ideas. You know you’d said that you wanted to keep him secret from the landlord until you found someone else to take care of him, but who were you kidding — you’d always wanted a cat. It didn’t take long for the group chat to respond, your phone chiming in quick succession with messages.

From Nami, embellished with heart emojis, “WHAT A CUTIE!”

Followed by a message from Robin, simply reading “Cute,” with a single heart.

Then from Vivi, “He looks like Luffy. Look at that scratch!”

You cocked your head and typed, “Who’s Luffy?”

“An old friend of ours,” Robin responded. “He has a scar under his eye, too.”

Rebecca pitched in. “He has a kind little face. But also looks like he’ll get into mischief. Exactly like Luffy.”

You lifted the kitten up and cooed, “What do you think? Are you a Luffy?”

The kitten let out a loud mew and wiggled in your hold.

You texted, “Luffy it is, then.”

As you sat back on your couch doing the math on how much you could afford in cat supplies this paycheck, you could no longer ignore the twisting pain in your chest. With a deep breath, you finally let yourself cry.

“What are friends for?”

Swallowing the heavy lump in your throat, you decided were perfectly okay with being just friends with Bartolomeo, especially if he treated all of them with the same level of protectiveness and loyalty he seemed to naturally hold. It wasn’t like it was his fault that you misread the situation. You’d been too hopeful and reading too deeply into things, and so it was your burden alone to untangle your feelings. You could do that. Easily. It might take a few days, and a few tipsy, sad calls to the group chat, but you would be okay. At least you had the advantage of only knowing him for a comparatively short amount of time, as opposed to the crushes you had known for years and made the same mistake with.

It still sucked. So you cried. The release felt like a weight off your shoulders, even if it made you miscalculate your budget a few times.

That night, as you lay in bed wondering how to best ask for Monday off so you could take Luffy to the vet, there was a faint nagging feeling in your mind of being watched. But all too quickly, you were falling asleep, and didn’t think too much of it.

Besides. You weren’t being watched. Not technically.

Bartolomeo was just sitting next to the window. Not looking in.

[briebysabs]

I want to talk about vnc chapter 12/episode 7

Why? Because I need to finally rant so just bare with me *inhales* WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS I DON’T THINK WE LOSE OUR MINDS ENOUGH

I almost want to go panel by panel bc I still can’t believe this chapter exists. When I’m seriously interpreting/analyzing something in a series I try to look from an objective POV. Basically I push aside my shipper heart to see what the author is trying to do canonically. But every time I go back to this specific chapter, the only thing I get out of it is that Noé is going to fall in love with Vanitas. And for the first time, I feel like this is a possibility that could actually happen and that’s crazy. So okay let me go slowly bc what?!!!

First of all, the chapter frames Noé, Vanitas, and Jeanne in certain perspectives quite oddly. The anime does too so that’s why some believe Noé likes Jeanne instead. Which kinda doesn’t make sense for a number of reasons. Now there can definitely be some vampiric connection between the two.

But in terms of romantic interest, it doesn’t add up. Hell we’re 40 + chapters ahead of this one and I can count on my fingers how many lines they’ve said to each other. So if Noé liked Jeanne, it definitely would’ve come back into play by now. After Vani and Jeanne run off, Noé goes after them immediately. And given we’ve seen how fast he is, it’s most likely he heard and also saw their encounter. Meaning Noé knows 1) the uncertainty of Jeanne being a curse-bearer or not 2) her deal with sucking only Vanitas’ blood.

Now mind you, this was 44 chapters ago and Noé still has not told anyone this. Going back to him being good at keeping secrets but that’s it’s own topic. Then he gets this sad look on his face. Now what he ends up telling Domi is the truth. And I want to be more clear on this. I do not think at this point in the story Noé loves Vanitas. It’s more so how this chapter ends is what leaves me stunned but we’ll get there. Plus the fact that Domi, till now, thinks Noé likes Jeanne IS VERY PROOF THAT’S NOT THE CASE.

So when you do the process of elimination, Vanitas is the only logical answer!!! And this freaking line. This is a strong statement for someone whose only upset about a missed opportunity to taste some blood.

His heart was in pain. WHAT THE FUCK

But that’s the thing. Noé doesn’t lie. But he omits A LOT. It also can be that he just doesn’t fully understand so his mind jumps to the obvious conclusion. But if he does think there’s more to it, Noé didn’t tell Domi. Now we get the real meat of it all. Oh my lord so Noé poses the question: Why don’t Vanitas dance with Jeanne? And Vanitas gives the excuse that he’ll accidentally step on her. We later find out he can dance just fine, so perhaps a part of him is already giving distance. Not willing to be close to Jeanne beyond teasing.

Now...MOCHIJUN DID NOT HAVE TO DRAW IT LIKE THIS. She could’ve had Noé smiling and pull Vanitas in to dance without any close-ups. She could’ve made it a silly moment but no, we are meant to take this scene seriously

I’ve noticed Noé has a number of scenes that there’s a small panel to the side where his eyes are covered. And I think a lot of the time it was a moment involving Vani. It gives off the impression that Noé is feeling something the author doesn’t want to make obvious.

And then we get the fucking line. Let’s say I’m reading this all wrong. The fact that mochijun has her two male protagonists dancing together as one asks ‘what is love?’ Is proof that she is at the very least, not unwilling to go there. LIKE DO WE KNOW HOW WILD THIS REALLY IS? I truly believe the fandom accepted this moment way too casually.

Noé asking almost contemplative what Vanitas sees in Jeanne. Remember he knows Vanitas wants Jeanne to suck only his blood. He is confused why Vanitas suddenly gravitates to Jeanne. Vanitas lists his reasons, one that includes that she’ll never love him back. Noé is rightfully confused by this but Vanitas states that she doesn’t have to love him back. If mochijun wants to go the romantic route for Noe’s ‘love’ IT WILL BE EXACTLY THIS. Because if she goes the romantic direction. First and foremost, I will have the highest respect for this woman bc I know she must’ve entered a battlefield for that to happen. But more so, if my interpretation of all this is right. Noé may never tell Vanitas. Think about it.

Noé believes Vanitas loves Jeanne. So out of kindness for Vani’s happiness, he wouldn’t say anything. That’s just the type of person Noé is. But also, the amount of effort, time, and vulnerability it took for Noé to get as close as he is with Vani. You think he’s going to risk jeopardizing ALL of that? And that’s the tragedy and beauty of it all. Vanitas doesn’t have to know that Noé loves him. No one has to know. But if again, this possibility is canon, we the audience know it’s going to be a inevitable regret down the line.

Finally the chapter concludes with future Noé narrating how this feeling will be a mystery for quite some time. I’d like to point out how Vanitas didn’t dance with Jeanne in fear of stepping on her toes but Noé does exactly that to him. Honestly my second favorite chapter. It felt like seeds were being planted for them to sprout into fruition later on. So many little details felt purposeful and it was the moment I really believed in vnc’s writing.

[black-arcana]

"I think this will be the last ‘traditional’ Within Temptation record": Sharon Den Adel and Robert Westerholt on how war, AI and experimentation has shaped their new album Bleed Out

Within Temptation's Sharon Den Adel and Robert Westerholt say new album Bleed Out may be their most ambitious yet.

(Image credit: Tim Tronkcoe)

More than 25 years since they helped define symphonic metal, Within Temptation are still pushing boundaries creatively. 2019’s Resistincorporated more electronic elements into their sound, but a series of stand-alone singles has suggested the band are pushing the boat out even more with its follow-up. 

We caught up with vocalist Sharon den Adel and guitarist/vocalist Robert Westerholt to find out what lies in store… 

You’ve called this album the ‘start of a new era’. What does that mean? 

Sharon: “We’re trying to find a new sound for ourselves. And we’re really interested in all these radical changes happening in the world right now and how they affect our lives, like with AI.” 

Robert: “We’re freer than we’ve ever been, and really enjoying experimenting. It’s also a new era in the styles of music we’re exploring.” 

As artists, how does AI affect you? Have you tried to see if a programme could write a Within Temptation song? 

Sharon: “We haven’t used AI at all when it comes to the music, but we used it a little for visualising things like the album cover and videos.” Robert: “I can’t imagine ever using it when we’re songwriting. It’s very interesting, though! It feels like a complete revolution, not only artistically, but in terms of what this AI could represent technologically. Scary, but exciting!” Sharon: “It’s an opportunity to find new methods of creativity. We’ve still used a designer for our cover so we’re not cutting out people, but we’ve used this technology to better express what we wanted and make it easier for them.” 

What’s the biggest surprise for fans on this new album? 

Sharon: “Every time you listen to the songs, you’ll discover more. There’s lots of layers of diversity in the songs.” 

Robert: “We’ve found a real love for the album [format] again and we’re trying to tell a story.” 

Is there a concept behind the lyrics? 

Robert: “There are a few themes rather than one concept, some being quite peripheral. Socially, we’re taking note of things happening in the world. The war in Ukraine had a big impact on us – we’ve played there quite a few times and felt like we got to know fans there, but also it’s really not far from our doors.” 

Sharon: “And if it doesn’t stop in Ukraine, it could be at our doorsteps a year later. There are lots of sports personalities we used to follow on social media from the Ukraine, like Alexandr Dolgopolov, a great tennis player who’s become a soldier to fight for his home. Ultimately, as musicians we tell stories and there are so many stories now coming at us.”

Are there any artists or records that have directly inspired the album? 

Robert: “I’ve found myself going for bands who go through these drastic, radical things in their songs. Songs with a lot of contrast are more exciting, more inspiring. I want to hear a record that can go from reggae to black metal!” 

Sharon: “Drastic change is something we want to try. Who knows what kind of cool things could come out of that?” 

How representative is single Wireless of the rest of the album? 

Robert: “There are a lot of elements we’re using in the new album on that track, melodically and rhythmically. Parts of this record are ultra-heavy. The contrast across the record helps those parts feel even heavier, too. There is even a bit of djenty stuff in there.” 

Sharon: “It’s the first time we’ve been able to go in and make adjustments to tiny bits within a song. We’ve tried in the past, but this feels like we’ve found a good method for getting those parts to fit together properly. I think this will be the last ‘traditional’ WT record.” 

Robert: “Every fucking metal band says ‘This is our heaviest album’, but for us, this is our most exciting album.”

Bleed Out is due October 20 via Force Music

[aviesfics]

The Lake of Fire

Fandom: Hetalia

Characters: England, France

Ship: N/A (they're a little too young for romance here)

Tags and warnings: Canonverse, temporary character death/temporary child death, graphic description of injury, hurt/comfort. A short exploration of immortality.

Word count: 653

“That’s ridiculous. We’re at war. You have other things to worry about.”

“And yet here I am, worrying about you.”

Read below the cut or >here< on AO3.

Note:

The time period is vague, but they are both physically children - England around 9, France around 14. I've added some of my own thoughts on nations and death below the story if anyone is interested.

---

“Can’t you just rip it out?”

“I don’t know. I think your ribs have healed around it.”

“So? Just pull it.”

“It will hurt. A lot.”

“I don’t care.”

“You do, or you would have done it yourself.”

At that, England was silent - eyes averted, fiddling with the corners of a torn tunic. It was stuck to him - pinned by the dagger, glued by dried blood.

“When did this happen?”

“I don’t know. Five days ago, maybe six.”

“Idiot. You should have come sooner.”

France grabbed the dagger where it protruded from skin, and the hilt was warm. Body heat, fresh blood. England grimaced at his touch, but for a boy usually so fiery, he was oddly subdued.

“This is war. You’re not exactly flaunting your position.”

It must have been the pain. France knew how days of agony wore you away to nothing, and it angered him to see England this way. He surely went somewhere he shouldn’t have, meddled too directly in affairs - but still, for an adult to take a dagger and lance a child…

… Human cruelty. It was frequently beyond France’s understanding.

“You could have found me if you wanted to. These are your lands.”

“Can you get it out or not?”

Surrounding ruined metal was an angry mess of pulverised red flesh, where the blade had cut and nicked anew with every step, every movement, every twitch of a muscle. Inside was rotten black and venomous yellow - fat and muscle and pus, too, where infection was setting in.

It felt unfair. This was the enemy, but this was a child. This was a rival, but this was a friend. This was war, where everyone suffered, but at least there was an end to the suffering of mortals.

There was only one way this could go, and he’d known it, deep down, from the moment England had appeared in his tent with silver protruding from his core.

“Did you die when you first got this?”

“Yes.”

“How did you feel?”

“You know how death feels.”

“But how did you feel?”

“I’ll die again if you pull it out, won’t I?”

Now, France was silent. Only for a moment. England deserved his response.

“Yes. But if you tell me all the worst parts, I can try and make it not so bad.”

“There’s nothing to tell. I don’t fear death.”

A lie. France did not push the matter. It wasn’t the time, and he could guess, anyway, at what most frightened a proud child like England.

“If you say so. I’ll stay anyway. I’ll protect your body until you wake, however long that takes. No-one will touch you, or move you, or take you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“That’s ridiculous. We’re at war. You have other things to worry about.”

“And yet here I am, worrying about you.”

“You’re a rubbish enemy,” England was embarrassed. He turned away, pouting at a canvas wall. France saw an opportunity. “My king would hang me if I got as soft as y-”

With all his strength, knowing he could not afford for the blade to stick on bone, he pulled.

For a moment, England looked betrayed. Frightened. His eyes said it all, even if his mouth could not for the blood filling his throat.

“I’m sorry. I had to get it over with. Anticipation would have made it worse.”

The apology, presumably, was accepted, because when England collapsed it was into France’s open arms. He caught the boy easily, cradling him like an infant and muttering gentle reassurances.

“Hush, you’re safe. I’m here. No-one is going to hurt you.”

A cough, a wet gargle. A twitch, a shudder.

Not fair. He was just a child.

“There’s no air, I know. It’s okay. You’ll come back, remember? And I’ll still be here. I’ll watch over you. That’s a promise. I never break a promise.”

And at last, as life left him, England was still.

---

Note:

I imagine the nations don’t die very often as children. There are some executions, some tragic accidents, some incidents where they get mixed up in something they shouldn’t. Some are luckier than others - born in stable times and on peaceful lands. But they all know death, they’ve all experienced it, and it’s scary and unpleasant and a Very Big Deal.

As soon as they’re physically old enough to fight on the battlefield, they start dying frequently. Hundreds of times in a war (they are so very aware that they can come back and their warriors cannot, so they take dangerous positions and sacrifice themselves frequently), and sometimes multiple times in a battle (when one lasts long enough to allow it). Death starts to mean nothing. They begin worrying about each other little, and about themselves even less. 

(I’m generalising, of course, and there are outliers at both ends - those whose childhoods were particularly difficult - struggling to adulthood and dying all the way, those whose skill lies off the battlefield, those who are just particularly good at staying alive, those who are overly protected by their leaders or the nations closest to them, those who have reached adulthood and not faced major war, etc.).

[intoxicatingimmediacy]

Daveed Diggs isn't 'itching' to direct but he'll take one of everything else, please

[...] Is there a storyline in season two that happily surprised you?

I am really happy with how much Jacque (April Absynth) and Cuddie (Lance Cameron Holloway) were able to make their way into the season. I love those characters. And it's tough, there are a lot of characters in this show, so to have a storyline that's an offshoot that there's still enough of it in there to feel there's been a journey, I was very proud of that. And I think more of Trish (Jaylen Barron). We found out last season how funny she is, so just letting her go this season was one of the greatest choices we made. Jaylen takes Trish in a lot of interesting places. In fact, she and Ashley get to a good place by the middle of the season, which is kind of nice — the two young female leads of the show at each other's throats for a long time — it's cool watching them squash their beef and become advocates.

[...] Rafael directs numerous episodes this season. Would you want to direct any episodes if there's a season 3?

I don't know. I think about this a lot. I don't think of myself as a director but I think if I ever were, it would be season 3 of this show. It's the most protected environment I could possibly do it in because I know the story really well, I know the characters really well, and I'm still surrounded by Rafael, and producers Keith and Jess Wu Calder, who have been rocking this with me for 17 years now. This is the only place where if I directed it I know it wouldn't come out bad. But I don't know. It's not a thing I have a huge itch for. But that could change.

[...] Let's touch on a few things outside of "Blindspotting" before we wrap up. Please give me some insight on what happened with the "Twister" sequel you, Helen Hunt, and Rafael were talking about doing in 2021. I've got to know.  

Oh man. I'm not going to get into it mostly because I'm probably going to misremember things. But all I'll say is there was an opportunity where we were talking about that, and it didn't happen, and the reasons that it didn't happen are potentially shady. But shady in the way that we know the industry is shady.  

[...] Then let's end with this. For you and Rafael, has there ever been a moment where you two have been able to fully take in and appreciate how much you've built? This all came from an idea that you guys had back in the early 2000s to make something about life in Oakland?  

Man. [Long pause.] We don't really talk about it that often, but every once in a while, we'll just look at each other and start laughing. I mean, it's all ludicrous. It's not how stuff is supposed to happen. But I'm super grateful for it. Season two tells a pretty closed story, which is the same thing we did with season one, and the reason for that is because we don't know if we're going to be able to get to do another season. So every time that we get to play in this world some more it's like [looks around the room] alright, let's keep going!

[bc-johnson]

The Inconvenience of Drama

I guess I just don’t understand what story the Mandalorian is telling? 

Season 1 had the typical “Wolf and Cub” mixed with a traditional Western. Hardass man becomes slightly less hardass, learns to love, etc. 

Season 2 had a “what’s best for the parent isn’t always best for the child,” Din tries to make a better life for Grogu with his “people,” even if it hurts him.

Season 3 seems to be “Din sees some stuff, starfighters are cool.” 

Like, the season isn’t over so obviously the narrative arc is harder to map, but I feel like this show takes every possible opportunity to do the least interesting thing possible. When Grogu left, the most interesting season 3 would be to explore Din WITHOUT Grogu but with the lessons he’s learned in season 1 and season 2. Then they just brought the little dude back on a different terrible show that no one watched?

What they should have done was keep the drama of season 2′s ending, but do a Luke/Grogu/Jedi Academy show. That way Din’s decision still holds and season 2 actually mattered, but the audience still gets to see Grogu in a different show (which also becomes a hook for that show). So you can have your corporate desires and your story, too, but for some reason they did neither. 

So now Grogu is back, but there doesn’t really seem to be a story there. He’s just gonna be Din’s kid now. Din is sorta just content. They’ve chosen the least dramatic path possible. 

And now with the Darksaber. They seemed to be setting up an confrontation between Bo and Din, where two marginal friends and actual allies have this nearly literal Sword of Damacles hanging over their heads. They’re going to have to fight, both of them know it. 

That’s drama! Story is drama! Milk the drama! They want to be friends or allies (or more?!?!), but they literally can’t because her ambition conflicts with his honor. The audience gets to feel the tension knowing this won’t work, they will have to duel at some point, and they’ll have to both mean it. 

Then they just...side-stepped it? “She saved me guys, trust me, here’s the saber.” Like, are we going for convenience or drama? 

Is Mandalorian the story of the guy who is kinda friends with the person who unites his people? What are we doing here? 

Of course, the answer is “we’re making an endless loop of shows that introduce other shows that introduce other shows,” but its so transparent that it’s killing the enjoyment. I don’t want to watch the next thing if it’s just a commercial for the next thing. Every show should stand alone, or at the very least, every show should actually have a story. 

Has this ALWAYS been done? Yes, of course. But it used to be done with a little subtlety. Sure, Winter Soldier introduces Falcon, but it’s in service to Cap’s story: he’s finding veterans to connect to, he easily inspires people to join him, etc. Falcon doesn’t suddenly become the main character of the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t beat the Winter Soldier in the climax while Cap cheers on.

I’m for a Bo Katan show, I’d watch that in a heartbeat. But just, like, make that show. Don’t spend six episodes of another show sneaking in the first season of the Bo Katan show. 

What does Din want? Season 3 has yet to even hint that he wants anything. He’s literally a protagonist with no desires or apparent agency. I get that this is a franchise for selling toys, but, like, there used to at least be the bare bones of a story there. 

Boba Fett suffered from the same problem. I had no idea what he wanted, or WHY he wanted to do the things he was doing. 

Star Wars plays in archetypes, that was always the fun of it. Big cliches slamming together at high volume. But, also basic stuff like three act structure, protagonist wanting something, drama. We can do this. It’s not asking a lot. 

[msclaritea]

Tim Hunter is the Director of Learning and New Talent at BAFTA. Here are some of his thoughts on why the redevelopment of 195 Piccadilly is so important: 

For me the new headquarters is about far more than bricks and mortar. For the first time we will have a floor purpose built for learning and new talent activity which will launch a greatly expanded programme, reaching every corner of the UK and internationally. The activity will be focussed on driving a more inclusive industry and help all those with talent to achieve their potential.

We’re committed to the new HQ being a centre of excellence for the whole nation, not just London. All of our new initiatives will be national and many will culminate in a celebratory event in London. This is how BAFTA Young Game Designers (YGD) works – it’s a national initiative that any young person can enter. We see how powerful it is for the young people to be invited to BAFTA's headquarters for the YGD Awards and how it’s valued as an endorsement of their talent. 

I’m particularly excited about the activity we’re developing with partners to help identify young people with talent and support them into entry level positions. The industry tells us how hard it is to find new entrants who have the talent and commitment to take up entry-level positions, but there are hundreds of amazing organisations who are training young people in industry skills. We believe we can harness the power of this amazing network, support talented young people with employability skills training and introduce a network of amazingly talented and diverse young people who are work-ready.

One of the most interesting projects we’re working on at the moment is a project with Screenskills, looking at ‘employability skills’ – those soft skills, like networking, presentation, resilience, which success in the industry is based on. These skills come more easily for some than for others and we want to make sure everyone is able to take advantage of the opportunities BAFTA can offer.

Some of the most striking stories come from our BAFTA Kids activity – children with severe autism and learning difficulties who, following workshops in their schools led by BAFTA-nominated presenters, have presented to the whole school where previously they had struggled to speak in class. These examples illustrate the power of film, television and games to inspire learning and raise aspirations.

What is your favourite film, TV programme and game?

This changes all the time, but for now I’ll say Double Indemnity. I love how every inch of the frame tells a story and how the snappy dialogue weaves in and out of the censorship rules at the time, leaving you in no doubt about all the risqué things which are being said between the lines.

My So Called Life - It perfectly captures how it was being a teenager in the 90s. Ricky was the first gay character I remember seeing who was flamboyant and camp but who wasn’t ridiculed for it – and the power of seeing that as a teenager is something which perfectly illustrates the impact film, TV and games can have.

Monument Valley – It’s so visually pleasing and so damn clever. I love the fact that it’s not massively competitive and how it plays with perspective. It makes me marvel at the creative brains who came up with it.

[w-ht-w]

Judginess can outlive its usefulness in the modern digitized world

Social media gives onlookers the opportunity to scoff at a person’s every choice

in pre-modern times, judgment helped keep people safe. Judgments were alarm bells allowing humans to distinguish between toxic and harmless food, trustworthy and untrustworthy tribe members, and hardworking and lazy kinspeople, ... The role that automatic judgment plays...is social signaling, social norm reinforcing.

Judgment is also a signal that someone’s behavior is unusual or out of context to your particular in-group

But in today’s mobile, digitally facilitated world, judgment can take on new, toxic forms, ... When you silently cast judgment on someone from afar based on an Instagram story, you don’t get feedback from other people — or even the subject of your judgment — and you don’t learn how to make comments or critiques in a constructive way. (1)

Judgment is biased/personal, discernment is more ethical (serving the greater good):

Discernment, on the other hand, can help you identify unhealthy and toxic behaviors, ... it’s important to detect when someone’s attitudes and beliefs pose a threat to others’ rights and well-being. Unless someone’s behavior is actively harming themselves or others (in which case, you should name the behavior, tell the other person how you’re feeling, and set boundaries on how you’d like them to act moving forward), learning to curb petty moral righteousness is possible, but requires slowing down your thoughts and having some empathy. (1)

be mindful of + reframe your judge-y self-righteous impulses:

In order to reframe judgmental thoughts, you need to catch them in the act. “We have to pull back and go, ‘I’m being judgy, I don’t really want to do that,’” ... “If we come to notice we’re doing something that is unhealthy and pause and stop it, then we are far less likely to go down that path,” (1)

At the end of the day, our digital personas are part of our personal personas because it’s how we choose to share our lives, our interests, and what matters to us to the world. If anything, most people only represent a curated version of themselves on social media, so shouldn’t it be a representation of what they hope and aspire to be as a human?

I do think there’s an important distinction though to make between thinking less of someone because of their social media presence versus realizing you’re just personally not into what they’re sharing or portraying. “Good for them, but they’re not for me” should be the motto. (2)

Empathize/understand where you can, but don’t compromise on the important:

it can be easy to assume that someone who doesn’t share your beliefs is “evil or stupid,” ... Instead of reacting aggressively in an attempt to change their mind, [try] thinking of a good-faith reason why someone would think this way as a means to slow down the judgment process.

For example, when it comes to relatives with differing political opinions, [think] about how the loved one ended up believing what they believe: the media they consume, the people they surround themselves with.

“Curiosity is the antidote for judgment,” 

Of course, you should never compromise on important moral and social issues, ... Relationships with people whose views are antithetical to your own will have to be renegotiated ... if you want to maintain contact. But you can control your initial assumptions of them based on their beliefs. “What function is expressing those judgments serving right now?” ... “Am I trying to build consensus about an issue or am I just trying to wave my flag ... (1)

You can’t force others to change, or single-handedly save them from themselves

There are very few things you can do to convince people your way of thinking and living is ideal. Save for the occasions where someone’s behavior is dangerous and harmful, ... [it’s best to] focus only on what you can control. ... our behaviors, our thoughts, and our actions.

“You can’t make somebody value the things that you value,” ... “All you can do is try to gently demonstrate that valuing the things that you value makes the world around you better and people will want to move there in some intellectual or moral sense.” (1)

1. https://www.vox.com/even-better/23188518/be-less-judgmental-tips

2. http://thecoolestlife.com/is-judging-someone-on-their-social-media-presence-shallow-or-accurate/

[crybabyalexxx]

Nova

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have a secret arrangement. Inspired by Billie Eilish’s ‘Billie Bossa Nova’

Warnings: NSFW 18+, submissive Bucky, dominant reader, BDSM involved

A/N: This was very fun to write as always. It is my first time writing anything for Bucky but this song just reminds me so much of him and I couldn’t help myself. Hope everyone enjoys it! I always get so nervous before posting a story.

Word Count: 2k

Here you were at another one of Tony’s parties. It’s not like you weren’t having any fun, it’s just that you’d rather be somewhere else. With someone else. It was rare when everyone got a moment for themselves so you all enjoyed it when everyone was together. Made you feel like a real family. But tonight, you only wanted to be with one person.

“Hey stranger, you’re quiet tonight. Everything alright?’ Natasha makes her way up to you, drink in hand. She always made sure you were treated well and felt comfortable. You were so thankful for her.

“Yeah, just a little tired.” Across the room from you was Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier. You two came face to face a few times on missions, before and after you joined the team. He hates to admit it but you were a tough one to fight. You love to remind him how easily you can kick his ass. You loved it when you got him down on his knees.

Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes off of you all night. From the moment you walked into the room with that silk green dress. It was causal, yet he adored you. He was quieter than usual, but everyone blew it off as ‘Bucky being Bucky’, and he didn’t mind. He just needed you. Bucky knew you thought the same thing too, it was the way you were looking at him. Like you wanted him on his knees. He wanted to obey.

Nobody knew but you and Bucky would regularly meet. When everyone was asleep, you and the Winter Soldier would sneak off and hide behind closed doors. It all started one night after training, the way he was breathing against you. Your legs wrapped around him tightly. Then it happened again after a mission, him knocking on your door and you pulling him in. It’s hard to stop it once it starts. After a while, Bucky told you about him wanting to be submissive. It threw you off at first, you figured after being mind washed for all those years that he would want to be in control for once.

“Sometimes everything becomes too much and I just want someone to take a little control every once in a while.” Bucky lied with you on one of the many hotel beds you’ve been in together.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, James. I understand, I’ll do it. I was always good at getting you on your knees for me.”

“I think I’m gonna go ahead and get to bed. Behave for me will ya?” Natasha smirks and gives you a wink.

“You know me y/n, I like to have a little fun before bed.” You wink back at her and head out to the elevator, with a Bucky Barnes hot on your heels. You didn’t even have to look at him to make him come to you. It won’t be the only time tonight either.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Doll.” It had been a while since the two of you had been in the same room together. So when you both heard you had the weekend off, you couldn’t let that opportunity pass. He’d been worked up and you didn’t want to wait any longer. You loved it when he came without a warning, sometimes waiting can get so boring. You wiped the cum off your hands with your tongue. “Don’t apologize, James, I like how worked up you get.” Bucky chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Only you do it how I like.”

You and Bucky don’t say anything on the way up to your room. You were lucky enough to have your rooms across from each other, nobody would know that he was secretly with you. It was like a routine, a dance between the two of you. Bucky undressed and waited for your command. You walk around him in circles, like he was prey. He wanted you to devour him already.

“On the bed.” He grew an erection immediately. Just by your three simple words. He did as he was told like a good soldier. He even held his hands above his head without having to be told. You straddle his waist as you tie him up. Bucky shuts his eyes tight, he knows he won’t last long with the way you look, fully dressed and slightly grazing him where he needed you most.

You smirk and grind your hips roughly, causing Bucky to throw his head back hard into the pillow. It was as if somebody knocked the wind out of him. His eyes shot open and he swore there was nothing more beautiful than the sight above him. You smiling down at him, your hair coming down loosely. He wasn’t going to last long. You could feel him squirming slightly underneath you. “Y/n, please.”

“Name?”

“Nova.” When you and Bucky weren’t back at the compound, you were in different hotels. Using different names at hotel check-ins. It was routine. Being together for the night, just to feel something. You wanted to be in control and Bucky was more than happy to be controlled by you. You hadn’t realized how much you enjoyed it, having him this way. He could easily take control if he wanted to. But you had him at your mercy, and you were an addict for him.

You were never the sentimental type, but there was something about the way he looked right now for you tonight. Tied up and an absolute mess. You wanted to keep him like this forever. “You make me wanna take a picture of you, James.” You were completely naked for him now. His erection trapped in between your folds, you raked your nails up and down his arms and chest. You made sure to take your time with his metal arm. Made sure he knew that all of him deserved to feel good tonight. “All tied up and wrecked because of me.” Bucky rolled his hips forward to get some sort of friction from you. You held his hips down and tsked. “Be a good soldier now Barnes.” You could make a movie with him that you both would have to hide.

Bucky grunted and threw his head back in frustration. “The things you do to me, Doll.”

You kiss your way up to his neck, “Don’t get sentimental on me James.”

You’d been ignoring bucky all day. It was one of those days where everyone just kind of kept to themselves. You read a few books and paid no mind to Bucky when he walked in the room. You didn’t even look at him when you two were alone in the library. You could feel his eyes on you every second. You could feel how squirmy he was because of it. Even when he caught up with you on the elevator, you simply pulled out your phone and acted like it was the most interesting thing to you. It pained Bucky to not be able to reach out to you. It was torture not having you all over him, your hands pulling at his hair, grabbing his waist, and dragging him to your room. He almost went back to his room, but before he reached the doorknob he looked back at you one last time. He was surprised to see you staring back at him, then you entered your room without closing the door behind you. He took that as an invitation.

Once he closes the door behind him he grabs you and pins you against the door. “Look at me when we’re alone, please.” You knew it wouldn’t take much to get him going. You knew it was torture though. He kissed you like you could one day slip away. “I know, I know.”

You were glad that these walls were soundproof. The noises he was pulling out of you, the sounds he made in your ear. It was like a song you never got tired of hearing. The way he stretched you out, yet fit inside you so perfectly. This was all you needed. He was all you needed. If anybody saw you two this way, you don’t know what they would think. The Winter Soldier begging to come. Moaning out your name. You squeeze around him at the thought. “Fuck! If you keep doing that I’m not gonna last much longer.” You lean in closer to him and squeeze around him once more. “Promise?”

Bucky couldn’t get enough of you, he left hickeys anywhere his mouth could reach. “You leave a strong impression don’t you Barnes?” It might be more of an obsession.

“Anyone see you?” He layed you down softly on the bed.

“No, you?” There was a slight knot in your stomach. You didn’t understand it.

“No.” Bucky continued his assault on your breast.

They won’t see me in your arms, you thought.

You’re not sentimental but there’s something about the way he looks tonight. Desperate, aching, and all yours. You could feel bucky tense up beneath you so you decided to drag this out a little longer. You rocked your hips back and forth slowly. Taking his cock in and out of you torturously slow. “Please Doll.” You’ll never get tired of hearing him beg.

“Who do you belong to?” You started to slam into him and Bucky saw stars.

“I won’t repeat myself, James.” You squeezed his throat gently.

“You! I belong to you y/n! Fuck.” You were going to be the death of him.

“Good Soldier.”

Sometimes you thought about being with Bucky. What it would be like to not have to sneak around and just be with each other. You wondered if Bucky thought the same. You wanted everyone to know the people you two became when you’re alone together. Even make them jealous for a change.

‘What are you thinking about?” You layed in Bucky’s arms, not having the energy to go back to your room yet. If you were being honest with yourself, you enjoyed the feeling of being in Bucky’s arms. The coolness of his metal arm with the warmth of his body. You stayed silent for a while. Debating whether or not to tell him the truth.

“That I’m the only one who does it how you like.”

You climb off of him and ride his thigh instead. Bucky whimpers and stares at you. He could feel how wet you are. You lean down and leave hickeys on his hips roughly. Once you are satisfied you climb completely off him and leave him hard and bare. He takes in a deep breath and pulls against his restraints. It was torture, but you both loved it. Bucky shuts his eyes again. ‘Please.” It won’t take much to get him going. “I know, I know.”

You walk around to the foot of the bed, fully naked. You saw your masterpiece. He was a work of art to you. The way his chest rose, the redness in his cheeks. The trail of your lips splattered all across his body. You were obsessed.

Bucky can hear your soft footsteps. He doesn’t dare look, he knows he won’t last long if he does.

“Look at me a little more James.” It took everything in him not to come the moment he saw you. He could see the wetness dripping from your cunt. The small hickeys covering your body, the ones he left. You were worth waiting for. He was obsessed.

His heavy breathing could have you on the floor. You watched him look your body up and down like it was a piece of art. You didn’t have to say anything, Bucky knew what you wanted. He wanted it too.

“I’m yours.”

You weren’t sentimental, but tonight there was something about him.

“I’m yours.”