#which is absolutely terrifying to consider given everything

[kncrowder88]

Ima stop timelining because I now have another Olivia line that's gonna haunt me.

[reiderwriter]

Well, Are You Mine?

Final Chapter of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Spencer adjusts to fatherhood alone.

Warnings: Angst, hopeful ending, mentions Canon character death (Gideon), mentions of new parent stress, single parenthood, etc.

A/N: I'm back! The final chapter is finally here, and I'm so very happy!! Thank you all for waiting patiently while I recovered from my illness. It's monsoon season here right now, so I've been hit with just depressing wave after wave of coughs, colds, fevers, and general rainy season ailments. But now this is finished! Thank you for joining ke on this three month journey. I'll be publishing a much happier, much fluffier epilogue within the week, so please look forward to that~♡ Without further ado, The End.

In the six weeks since his daughter had been born, Spencer Reid had experienced what he could solidly call the most terrifying weeks of his life.

The baby cried, and his heart beat out of his chest. Rain or shine, fully awake or fully knocked out, a single gargle or a full on scream and he was sprinting to her side to coo her back to blissful sleep, or to change her, or just to hold her close.

In the six weeks up to her birth, he'd pointedly avoided parenting books on the whole, doing his best to drown out all the memories from reading similar books when JJ was pregnant. Every memory stung as he clawed his way back to the family that was prematurely ripped from him.

But the baby was here now. The baby was safe, and the baby was crying, which he knew was absolutely healthy and nothing to worry about, and completely and totally fine, except it dropped his heart to his stomach everytime she did it.

It wasn't as if your daughter was a particularly fussy child. She was a newborn, she was a healthy weight and size, and the doctors who had checked her over at the hospital after her birth had reassured him multiple times that she was totally healthy. A miracle, all things considered.

And she was his miracle. For six weeks, she'd been his little wonder.

The team had banded together to fix up his apartment while she'd been observed in the hospital for the first few days of her life.

He'd sat and watched her through the newborn window at the hospital while Penelope had cleaned up his apartment, and Luke had built him a crib.

Emily and JJ had gone hunting for baby clothes and found probably a lifetime supply of 0-3 months, 3-6 months, and 6-9 months babygrows, t-shirts, dresses, and matching little hair bows for everything.

The first time he'd seen the socks, he'd broken down.

Arriving back with his newborn daughter to his apartment, he'd carried her to her new room, desk removed and crib added, though the walls were still shelved with books he really needed to do something with. He'd opened the sock drawer and been faced with a drawer full of single socks. There wasn't a matching pair in sight.

He'd pulled his daughter into his arms and held her close as the tears fell once again.

It had been six weeks since you'd delivered your first baby, and Spencer was sure that if you had the opportunity, you'd be cussing him out continuously.

Because as much as he doted on his daughter, his sweet baby, who he swore was already smiling sweetly up at him each time she grabbed his pinkie with her whole tiny fist, he had still not given her a a name.

“We can't just call her baby,” Emily complained to him after three days, already getting restless with Spencer's lack of decisiveness.

“I won't name her without Y/N,” he'd replied, and Emily had shut her mouth, not willing to open up that can of worms around him just yet. The sudden silence whenever he mentioned you was deafening. Spencer felt the team growing rigid each time he said something even slightly hopeful, then gently tried to lead him back to being ‘realistic.’

It had been six weeks since you'd given birth, and smiled at him sweetly as you brought you'd daughter into the world and six weeks since you'd quietly slipped into a peaceful coma.

The first week, he'd been told to prepare himself for the worst. The second week, he'd been told there was nothing more that they could do.

But in the third week, you'd moved. Just your hand, just a twitch, but a sign of life the doctors had been trying to convince him wasn't there before.

In the fourth week, you'd recovered enough to be taken off the ventilator.

You were clawing your way back to consciousness, readying yourself to meet your precious, sweet baby.

In the sixth week after Spencer Reid became a father, he took his daughter back to the hospital to meet her mother again. With some expert baby-sitting from Penelope, he'd managed to visit you once every two days at least in the last few months, but with the little-one still only small, hospital visits to trauma wards weren't exactly recommended.

When they'd transferred you to a regular ward, he'd packed his bags immediately and gathered the baby up, strapping her into her carrier and waiting desperately for visiting hours to begin.

After thirty minutes, he made a call.

“Emily? Can I… can we get a ride?”

Of course, she'd agreed. While no one else had been letting themselves hope, they had absolutely been at his beck and call. He'd been swamped with guilt calling JJ at 3am asking how to settle you because he'd tried everything, and constantly relying on Penelope to come and help him and Luke and Emily, picking up extra hours to finish his paperwork because his paternity leave still hadn't been approved.

He felt guilty, overwhelmed, and stressed, and he needed you to wake up so goddamn much that he feared if he got any bad news, he would shatter. And he didn't know how to be a father, because really he hadn't had one before he was 20 and Gideon became his, and even he had left when things got hard. So how could he be sure he wouldn't.

So he hadn't given his daughter a name. And, yes, it was because he wanted to do it with you, to pick out a name together, but also it was because he didn't think he could stand knowing it if he was too weak and ran from her.

The pressure built and built for six weeks, as he fell in love with his daughter, who deserved better than his love, and then Emily pulled up in his car, and he started sobbing.

“Spencer!” Emily exclaimed, not expecting the outburst at all, the loneliness of the last five months catching up to him finally.

“Emily… Emily, I'm a terrible father-”

“No! No, sweetie, you're-”

“My daughter doesn't have a name!”

Emily switched the engine off and then grabbed Spencer's shoulder, roughly turning him to face her if he wouldn't meet her in the eyes.

“You have survived this job for nearly two decades. You have survived gunshots, and murderers, and loss that I can not begin to comprehend, and you love that child. You are grieving, and you are stressed, and it is so totally, completely normal to not be okay after everything you've been through,” Emily held her breath, waiting for his reply. Just as he opened his mouth to whisper more doubts, the baby in the back seat began to fuss and cry.

Unable to stop himself, Spencer laughed. Emily laughed with him. They sat giggling in the car together, tears in their eyes as his daughter kicked up a fuss.

“She doesn't like hearing you talk badly about her daddy,” Emily joked and started the engine again.

When Spencer finally made it to your room, his daughter had stopped fussing. A quick bottle in the parking lot had mollified her, and she was gurgling softly now, still pink, her eyes tightly closed. He'd dressed her up nicely, or as nicely as he could muster. A cute pink newborn dress for his tiny baby and a matching pink hair bow.

He gathered the baby carrier in his arms and let the hospital doors open for him.

Finding your new ward wasn't hard. The nurses were helpful enough and honestly, he'd taken a look at the building blueprints weeks before, when he'd been obsessing over every small detail of your care, so he practically knew the route by himself.

Straight, then a left turn, then straight again, and a right turn and keep going until there was a final turn into your ward.

He let out a deep sigh as soon as he reached the nurses station and readied himself to ask for you.

“Hello, I'm here to see my Y/N, I was told she was transferred here this morning?”

The nurses on the station looked up at him in shock and blinked at him a few times before speaking up. If ever there was a time to hear the words “you haven't heard?” uttered from the mouth of a nurse in a hospital where your comatose girlfriend was being treated, then it likely wasn't when he held a newborn in his already weak arms.

The panic set in quickly as he tuned the noise out. An older nurse walked around the side of the desk to comfort him, sticking by his side and grabbing the baby carrier before he could accidentally let it go in his shock.

Another nurse came to his side to take care of the baby, and quickly, they both ushered him down another hall to an adjacent ward. He drowned out every word as they tried to comfort and reassure him, his brain jumping to the worst conclusions.

His teammates were right when they said he shouldn't hope. He needed to be realistic now. If you were gone, he had to call your family and organize the funeral. He had to pack up your stuff. He had to settle the hospital bills and decide how you would be seen off.

He had to name his daughter.

The nurses pushed him towards the room quickly, and he mentally prepared himself to say goodbye, but as the doors swung open, he saw you, and he fell to his knees.

“Spencer?”

In the two hours since you'd woken up, you'd been poked, prodded, hydrated, fed, rubbed down, and spoken over like you were still somewhat asleep.

No one had explained exactly what had happened, and no one explained where your baby was, and you'd kicked and screamed yourself hoarse, as the doctors noted down that you still had use of your vocal chords and all four limbs.

So seeing Spencer crash into your room at full force through your tear filled eyes was the best experience you'd had in months, especially when you spotted the nurse with the baby sized car seat coming in behind him.

“Is that my baby? Is that my baby? Please-” You pushed sheets off your body as a nurse tried to hold you still, not wanting you to pull the IV from your arm or the oxygen tubes from your face.

And suddenly Spencer was there, and he'd regained his strength, and his hope, and his happiness because you were awake, and talking and god you remembered.

It was all he could do not to grab you, bundle you up, and carry you away to safety, but the nurse propping you up was stern-looking, and he had a daughter to tend to.

He pulled your face into his hands and kissed you as softly as he could, holding back his emotion as he held you like you would break, feeling your wet tears on his skin.

“I missed you,” he whispered, dropping his forehead to yours as he gently stepped back and allowed the nurses to help you get comfortable.

Then he turned quickly and grabbed your daughter, and your breath caught in your throat as he held her out to you.

“What do I…? Where should I put my hands- Oh god, I'm so unprepared, I-” your eyes welled again, but it was joy as you saw her serene little sleeping face for the first time and he slowly lowered her into your arms. It turns out, no-one needed to help you out holding her at all, because she was so precious and perfect and yours that she slotted into your arms completely, like it was a spot made completely for her, like you'd been purpose made to hold her and be her mother and love her and cherish her.

You cried and looked up at Spencer and laughed. He rested on the side of the bed and pulled you into his arms, and you felt that completeness a second time, and you knew that you were made for him the way she was made for you.

Your family.

It had almost been taken for you, but it was yours, and it was fate.

With a quiet whisper that only Spencer could hear, you leant down to your baby's ear and said your first words to her.

“I wish that I could be your mother in every lifetime, my sweet Angel.”

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 2

/ Click here to read the first part!

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, heartless Soldier Boy, reader gets hurt, mention of drugs, mention of alcohol, mention of sex, betrayal, Soldier Boy being a dick, reader is a supe, Crimson Countess is a bitch

Word Count: 2031

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

After your argument with Ben about Countess Noir and your relationship, which occurred a month ago, he hardly spoke to you at all. He never looked you in the eye, either. You were never even certain if his love existed in the first place, but it was clear that the thing between you and Ben had been extinguished forever, even though he hadn't formally ended your relationship with words.

You considered leaving Payback behind, but you found it difficult to distance yourself from Ben, which bothered and despised you about yourself. You were terrified that Ben would harm Earving, in addition to the possibility that he wouldn't mind you leaving the squad. After all, he was your sole friend, and Ben's attitude towards him was cruel and rough. He was merciless to everyone except for Countess.

You denied producing movies, TV shows, or signing days since it was too much to bear to watch Crimson and Ben together, participate in commercials, and be the star of movies in front of your eyes. You just stopped showing up with the squad day by day. Nonetheless, when the rumors surfaced that you would soon leave the group, you were forced to sit with Ben and listen to him while he talked absolute bullshit to the cameras.

When the reporter asked you a question, you were so deep in confusion that you couldn't even begin to count how many times you were asked the same question. You were deep in thought when the reporter asked the same question.

“I'm sorry,” You apologized, giving the TV reporter a feeble smile. “I couldn't catch you.” You were irritated by the number of times you were given the same questions over and over again.

You felt that all you wanted to do was shout and punch everybody who spoke to you and asked you pointless questions about Ben and Crimson, as if it were your responsibility to speak and you were their spokesperson regarding their romance or something. All they saw was a façade of lies; if only someone could see through you and realize that you were drowning in all of them.

He kept talking about the rumors, and you felt like you were about to go crazy in front of the camera and kill someone. At that point, the pressure you were under became too much for you to handle. You ignored all the sounds around you and repressed your tears as you inhaled deeply.

“Look, you know, I have things to do. I apologize if I sound impolite, but it would be preferable if you directed those questions to Crimson and Soldier Boy. After all, it's their life to tell, not mine.”

When you attempted to back away to ask another question, the unsettlingly inquisitive man grabbed your arm. God alone knew how much you wanted to break those arms at that very moment and make him eat his own flesh.

Disregarding your previous statement, he uttered, “Y/N, please inform us. Are they really getting married soon? Don't you think it would be fantastic if the strongest supe woman and strongest supe man got married? A formidable duo! Power Couple! The American public is curious about that.”

He was babbling nonsensically and was clearly trying to get you to kill him. Even though you weren't saying a damn thing, he continued talking about them, and you inhaled deeply and waited for him to finish. When he identified Countess as the strongest female supe, you gave him a little smile.

You replied coolly, “I really don't know about their next move. But allow me to ask you a question. Have you witnessed her battling me?”

You stared him in the eyes when you posed the question, as though it were the most important one ever. The way you changed your attitude startled him.

“Well, no,” he said with a confused look on his face.

“Then what makes you believe that she is the world's strongest supe woman?” You continued to smile at him and continued, “Let's just say I'm curious.”

Crimson wouldn't have a chance against you; you knew it. Ben also knew that. However, you felt unimportant and left her aside each passing day because of the way she was seen as the strongest female supe. You were aware that Ben was assisting her in completing the objectives assigned to her—unlike you, she was never able to complete any of them successfully. She just appeared to be powerful and tough because she was with Ben, not because she was really something.

You were aware that her sole concerns were money and reputation, and neither Ben nor the squad mattered to her. A woman could always see right through another woman.

You suddenly burst out laughing when he opened his mouth. Saying, “Hey, I'm just kidding; relax,” you interrupted him before he could say anything more foolish. “But I really have things to do, okay? Glad to meet you. Have a nice day.”

Fuck, you turned into the biggest liar in a single month because of Ben.

Earving saw you had at last escaped the incessant inquiries and the obnoxious reporter, so he followed you to the van. He was also taking a vacation from marketing his latest film. After taking off his mask long enough to sip his, he handed you a soda.

“Hey, what's the deal? You know, you seem anxious these days.” He ate his hamburger quickly and remarked, “I heard the conversation between you and this idiot man. Fuck him; they are so fucking irritating sometimes, it’s hard to stop myself from breaking their necks.”

You took a big sip of your soda and gave him a nod. It was nice to have small talk with Earving, considering he was the only kind and smart person left in the squad after all.

“Yeah,” you said while Ben and Countess got out of their special trailer, and you watched them with a heavy heart when Ben gave her quick and playful kisses.

It was Ben's blindness and his intense care for her that pained you, and it was his seeming blitheness and comfort around her that made you hurt. It was obvious to you that she was lying and tricking him. Witnessing Ben give her everything he didn’t bother to give you wounded you. They had a really open connection, even if there was still some space between you when you were dating.

You were concealed by him like a rat in the shadows, unlike her.

The countess never once left his side, not even for a moment. You were frantically trying to find a moment to speak with Ben once again. If you had been alone with him, you would have succeeded in discovering the cause of his sudden and dramatic change.

“Earving,” you said like a whisper. “Can you distract Countess for tonight?” You turned to him with pleading eyes.

“Why?” he asked as he ate his third hamburger.

“Can you just do it?” You huffed as you kept watching Ben from afar.

“Fine,” he said with his full mouth, spitting the tomatoes. “You fucking stress me out since you’ve started to act like Soldier Boy.”

“Don’t insult me,” you said as you chuckled, punching him softly and stealing his last hamburger.

When Earving managed to divert Countess, it was midnight, and you saw them vanish out of sight. When you saw Ben pull into his own trailer, your heart began to race, and you quickly followed him. You made a self-promise to try it one final time. After all, you were doing this for one another, and when it came to love, pride had no place.

When you entered the trailer, you locked the door immediately, leaned your back against the door, and your hands stilled on the handle as if he would escape any moment. It was dim inside.

You heard him inhaling deeply before he turned his back to you and gave you a look like you were an insect that simply refused to leave the house in the summertime. Though you were close to him physically, the distance between you and his coldness toward you was visible.

He gave you a stern look and maintained his distance from you, asking in a harsh voice, “Why the fuck are you here again? Are you going to start spreading gossip about us?”

You just answered, “No,” disregarding his sour tone and remarks. “Ben, all I want to do is talk.”

“I fucking have things to do; cut it short.”

He was leaning back against the drug- and alcohol-filled table. Though it was obvious that he was getting worse every day, he was unable to recognize his condition. 

“Why did you change so suddenly? Did I do something wrong?” Not wanting to come across as hostile and cause him to harm you verbally once more, you asked in a quiet voice. “I just need a simple explanation.”

You continued to stare at him with wet eyes, and he sighed and gave you his signature grin.

“Just admit your pussy missed me; that’s why you are so desperate, so I can give you a good and quick fuck,” he said, giving you a playful look.

Aware that he was only attempting to divert the conversation or embarrass you, you remained silent and paid no attention to the garbage that was pouring out of his mouth.

“Why, Ben?”

“Why do you act like a fucking obsessive woman? Do you need an explanation? Fine, listen to me carefully, then: I can do whatever I want. Is that good enough for you? ”

With a heavy heart, your hands on the door handle tightened. Ignoring his harsh words, your jaw clenched, and you shook your head in denial.

“Why did you act like you loved me and cared about me then?”

“What love? Fuck, I don’t even like you,” he snapped out of nowhere, irritated by the choice of your words. “We just passed some time and fucked, that’s all. Don’t be a bitch about it; you’ll get over it,” he said, giving you a wink.

He sounded so different and cold that it was hard to believe he was the same man with whom you fell in love so deeply months ago. It was like someone else possessed his body and turned him against you in a day.

“Why do you even look at me with such hatred?” you asked, ignoring how much his words pained your heart. Your voice cracked, not knowing how to handle the situation or his unbalanced behavior anymore.

“Fuck!” he screamed at you, finally losing his temper and making a move to approach while you still leaned your back against the door. “You know what? I’m going to marry her.”

You loosened your hand around the doorknob and cupped his face without hesitation, knowing he would do it just to make sure you suffered.

“I swear I’ll walk away the day you marry her, Ben,” you said with a desperate voice, hoping it would mean something to him. “I’ll leave Payback.”

“Fuck you will,” he clenched his jaw, pushing your back against the door. “I fucking swear, the day you leave will be the day of Noir‘s death. No, I’ll make sure to make him even worse.”

“What kind of monster have you turned into?” You whispered and pushed him off of you.

“Yet you told me you loved me,” he said, giving you an unsincere smile.

“I do love you, Ben, and that’s the last time you hear this from me.”

Next Chapter

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A/N: I was very surprised to see that you wanted another part for this so-called one shot story. Your comments made me very happy.

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series!

[phoenixkaptain]

A story like Thousand Autumns is very subtle in its romance.

Shen Qiao has only ever known his sect. He knows it very well, because of this fact. He knows the people, he knows the rules, he knows the daily doings and who is doing them. He knows every blade of grass and every stone. He’s like a lonely mountain flower, on the highest peak, unseen by any but a few birds and unknowing that there’s more it might never know.

When he finds himself away from his sect for the first time, he’s confused. At most, he’s gone to the base of the mountain, maybe the fields surrounding that, but no further. The flower was plucked and tossed aside.

For a man stumbling blindly in the world, literally and figuratively, there really isn’t a better guide than one that knows just about everything. And that’s, without a doubt, Yan Wushi.

Yan Wushi has lived longer than Shen Qiao, has been more places than Shen Qiao, and has fought more battles than Shen Qiao. Yan Wushi is the perfect example of something out of reach even for someone out of reach. He’s the only one who could answer any questions asked of him, but especially the questions that Shen Qiao would want to ask him.

And there’s no question in my mind that Yan Wushi doesn’t fall for Shen Qiao at first sight, but he’s certainly attracted to him. Not in an overtly sexual or emotional way, but Yan Wushi, the way his character is set up? It’s impossible for him not to be fascinated by Shen Qiao.

He knows Shen Qiao is the very picture of a peerless immortal. He’s well aware that Shen Qiao is considered untouchable by even the people closest to Shen Qiao. He’s most aware that Shen Qiao is Qi Fengge’s (coughhndisputedcough) favourite disciple, and honestly that’s enough for him to overwhemingly want to mess with Shen Qiao.

There are a lot of reasons for Yan Wushi to fall for Shen Qiao. Most of the people in the novel fall for Shen Qiao, after all, there is a precedent.

But the one I’ve seen questioned is Shen Qiao’s affection for Yan Wushi. Where does it come from? When did it start? Does Shen Qiao even fucking like that asshole?

The easy answer is: yes, he does. The novel tells us that. Shen Qiao, despite everything, does fall for Yan Wushi’s, um, “charms” in the end. This is made clear.

But why? A thousand voices cry out. Why the fuck would any reasonable person like Yan goddamn Wushi in any capacity?

Well, there’s your first mistake. Shen Qiao is not a reasonable person.

Shen Qiao as a character is absolutely terrifying. He could absolutely destroy the world given half the inclination, but he just doesn’t want to. He’s already considered unmatched before he’s pushed unceremoniously off of a mountain, and his journey only increases his strength. He isn’t quite equal to Yan Wushi, but he’s the only person Yan Wushi ever sees as equal to himself.

Shen Qiao’s best and worst trait is his patience. He’s unwavering. He really just embodies taoism, especially as it’s presented in the novels. He is the picture of a river that doesn’t stray from its path.

Which is why it’s hard for him to reconcile his own attraction to Yan Wushi, but let’s all be clear here. Yan Wushi absolutely starts seducing Shen Qiao on day fucking one. If he could’ve (if Qi Fengge hadn’t been there) he would’ve tried to eat that cabbage when it was just a little sprout. Shen Qiao is unpracticed in most social interactions, to be frank, but he’s especially unused to romance and Yan Wushi really is his first introduction to being hit on.

Yan Wushi is far from good, at really any point, to anybody but especially to Shen Qiao. But that doesn’t particularly matter because Shen Qiao chooses to forgive him, again and again. And I really think, after giving Shen Qiao to a confirmed terrible, awful person who has already promised to do terrible thing to Shen Qiao, that Shen Qiao himself wouldn’t forgive literally anyone else for doing that. And he shouldn’t, because it was really fucked up, but that still doesn’t matter because Shen Qiao ultimately DOES forgive Yan Wushi.

What am I saying? I’m saying that Shen Qiao fell for Yan Wushi first. It is the only way the story makes any sense. Shen Qiao is annoyed at him, he’s furious at him, he’s so fucking pissed he could kill that man, but he likes him. He likes Yan Wushi’s company. He likes that Yan Wushi gives him a challenge. He’s exasperated, but he likes it.

Shen Qiao forgives Yan Wushi SO MANY TIMES. Yan Wushi humiliates him and mocks him and is the absolute worst, but Shen Qiao forgives him and more than that, Shen Qiao always is waiting for Yan Wushi to come back to bother him more.

Is there more to Shen Qiao’s attraction? Probably. Is it a daddy kink? It could be. But I honestly can’t help but read it as Shen Qiao falling for the absolute pits of a man that is Yan Wushi. Shen Qiao likes that old bastard and decides to spend the rest of his life with the fucker and he is just too much of a block of ice to show it.

[reverie-starlight]

Osamu + doing their makeup for them on the first prompt list? 🥹🥹🙏🙏

SO CUTE!!! I'm not sure which way you wanted this, but this was the first thing that came to mind. hope you enjoy!!

gn!reader that owns/uses makeup, no physical descriptions, fluff fluff fluff, I need to write for osamu more. I think legally for every three atsumu fics I post on this blog, I need to do one for his brother. pls don't hold me to that. very dialogue heavy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"how did I let ya talk me into this?" osamu sighs from underneath you. of course he knows how- your puppy dog eyes and sweet, sweet voice buttering him up.

you giggle and shift a bit so you're straddling him more comfortably. "because you loveeee meeee," you sing. "and you're extremely weak against my charm," you swipe some bright green eye shadow over his left eyelid.

the man sighs again, but the corner of his mouth is clearly twitching upwards at the reminder. "yeah, yeah, whatever," he starts bouncing his leg to pass the time and you click your tongue.

"'samu, stop moving, I'm gonna mess your face up."

he lets out a sudden laugh. "yeah, I'm sure moving my leg a little bit is the thing that's gonna mess my face up. definitely not the gremlin sitting on my lap with some-" he opens his right eye to try to get a glimpse of the brush but you're quick to pull it out of his view. "mystery colour. I don't like the look on your face, sweetheart, what are ya doin' to me?"

your laugh is far too ominous for his liking. "don't you worry, baby, I'm gonna make you so pretty."

"wasn't worried," he shoots back automatically, but then he grumbles a bit while rubbing your thighs, "thought you already considered me pretty."

"aww, so pouty," you coo at him. "keep it up and I'm gonna put some gloss on you, too."

you have to kiss away his scowl and reassure him that nothing sticky or wet will be applied to his lips before lunch.

he stays still until you announce that you're finished. he's a little too quick about scooping you up in his arms and rising from his chair.

you had been giggling throughout the entire process and he remembers the barely concealed mischief behind your eyes when you first begged to do his makeup. there was absolutely zero chance that you had actually given him a cohesive look, but you've been so down lately, that seeing you genuinely laugh and smile made him just a bit more willing than usual to let you have your way.

"samu!" you shriek when he throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

he adjusts his grip on the back of your thighs to keep you from squirming too much. "this had better be the best look of the damn century, sweetheart, or you're going to pay for it."

"what? nooo, baby I swear I was just messing around-" you're squirming relentlessly now, doing everything in your power to get out of his grip and run to safety. your boyfriend is relentless when it comes to payback. granted, you don't mind one bit, but it doesn't make the build-up any less terrifying.

he flicks the light switch on and it's dead-silent in the bathroom as he takes in his new look. his grip loosens just a bit and you take the opportunity to finally wiggle out of his arms and stand beside him.

osamu is just standing there, jaw slacked and staring at his reflection. you bite your lip to stop more laughter from bubbling out.

on his left eye is the bright green eyeshadow you had hidden from his view. on his right is a glittery neon pink. you've applied eyeliner on him as well, however not as sharp as what he sees you do for yourself. not sharp at all, actually, because instead of his eyeliner being winged, you've turned it into rounded flower petals. his blush is horrendously over applied to the apples of his cheeks, making him look like a doll.

and for the final blow, you've also "tattooed" some words onto his face in red lip liner.

atsumu is the better twin.

how you managed to fit it all is a mystery to him- he's almost impressed- but what's even more dumfounding is how he hadn't realized you were writing on him.

he blames your adorable smile for distracting him.

once he's done processing, he turns to look at you slowly and you feel a strange mix of fear and excitement pooling in your stomach. you're both extremely still and waiting for the other to make a move.

you decide not to tell him that you realized halfway into the flower petal eyeliner that you forgot to restock your makeup remover.

after an agonizing ten seconds, your lover only has to narrow his eyes to get you shrieking and running for cover.

lunch will have to wait a bit longer, but he decides he's okay with that as he chases you down the hall and pretends he can't catch up. he'll get his fill soon enough, anyway.

"yeah, you'd better run, darlin'."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thank you so much for sending this in, I hope you enjoyed!!

@emmyrosee come get your husband

[atalana]

so i finally got the chance to read the book of bill! and man those journal 3 pages, i could write a million essays on those, but the principle one that i can't get out my head is the new insight on ford's whole fucked up paradigm of what love is

like, neither of the stan twins really know how to experience unconditional love, because they never really had it. their dad was constantly comparing the two of them and really just stamping down stanley's self worth at any given moment. and even for ford who was praised, he's not an idiot, he saw how stan got treated all the time, and their dad was very explicit as to why. ford's praise and attention hinged on him being the family genius who could make them all a lot of money, and he knew very well if he failed to live up to that, he would also lose his father's love

and you see this in stan in his desperate need for everyone to like him, but also how he doesn't really believe anyone ever truly could love him, so whenever he gets the chance with anyone he clings onto that relationship as tight as he can, terrified it's going to disappear at any second

ford, meanwhile. the more direct threat to him was the bullies and the people that made him feel lesser for being abnormal. and no kid likes feeling like that, we know it's a spike buried deep in his psyche, which gave him a reason for the dichotomy he ends up forming.

when he was a kid, people tended to fall into two categories - those who were really impressed with him and his potential, and those who saw him as a freak and wanted to drag him down for it. the love he got and the hate he got are directly related to both.

and as a result ford is constantly looking for people who will give him intellectual gratification (what he thinks love is), and he categorises everyone else as "unimportant obstacles in my way" (because that's how he thinks about those bullies, so their words won't hurt anymore)

stanley was the first category, until he sharply became the second

and splitting the world into those two categories makes him an absolutely horrible person! like, one hand yeah, you do have sympathy for ford bc that is straight up torture bill put him through and no one should have to experience it (and i do wanna make clear this is not a ford hate post, he does have good qualities im just interested in the bad rn)

on the other hand though, god, i'm always struck by just how hateful he is towards so many unimportant things (just one of many examples, christmas songs are fake and stupid bc rudolph didn't burn santa's workshop to the ground as revenge for ostracizing him like jesus christ dude)

or the bit where he sees one of stan's shitty product ads and considers calling him and pretending to be a cop just to scare him, because in ford's mind that's a punishment he deserves for daring to look so stupid while sharing ford's face

and it just drills in how much ford is not willing to see stan's side of this in any way, because what do you think would happen if you went through with that plan? don't you know stan's already scared enough? you saw him get kicked out, you saw the ultimatum that came with it, and hell thanks to the book of bill we know you were also scared to go home until you had something to show for it. he's trying his best, and you understood that once. but then stan throws your journal back in your face and you yell that you're giving him the chance to do the first worthwhile thing in his life.

everything he did to try and make something of himself, to try and prove himself worthy of literally any love at all, you didn't care about that. now he's in a position to help you, so of course he should just drop everything and obey your orders to the letter without question. that's the only way to redeem himself for getting in your way, why won't he take it?

by the time bill shows up ford felt fully justified in going "this isn't about me, and therefore it's stupid and unimportant and should be destroyed". and i know exactly why, it's because again you think intellectual gratification and love are the same thing and you're running low on both right now so you're trying to make up the difference by affirming how right you are in your goddamn diary, but right does not make you good or kind or wise

and that makes it kind of a self fulfilling prophecy, because loving you is hard, and the one person genuinely willing to do so unconditionally you're keeping at a very aggressive arms length. but you fall for bill so easily, because he understands how important you are, which must be love, and all of these other people worried about you just aren't smart enough to get it

and not even realising bill's lies could cure him of that one. hell, 30 years spent dimension hopping didn't cure it. when ford gets back he is still just as self righteous, and still willing to categorise dipper as "will give me intellectual gratification" and the rest of them as intrinsically less valuable

which is why dipper can't take the deal ford offered him. if he had, he would have turned out exactly like ford, stuck in his own echo chamber unable to tell the difference between love and praise

mabel says at one point in the comics that the reason the two grunkles are bad at looking after kids is because they still are kids, and that's a really accurate insight. that old wound cut so deep neither of them had the chance to actually move past their childhood, and discover what it was they were missing

stan never stopped wanting his brother back, but ford didn't realise that was what he needed too, until he saw mabel and dipper working as a team against bill. he's acknowledged his mistake in trusting bill before now, but "we used to be like that" is his first time acknowledging that his whole approach to people is wrong.

you've always had one source of unconditional love. you didn't need to be better than him to be worthy of it. and now you've got an entire new family, hopefully you'll realise that can come from multiple fronts

(and it's okay stan shall have his revenge for how you treated him by commiting just. so much tax fraud in your name)

[youunravelme]

okay but how does mat propose??? (like a pt. 2 follow up to the wedding cake fic)

omg omg omg a proposal request!! let it be known, i have never been engaged, BUT all my friends got engaged/married last year so i think i'm uniquely qualified (edit: this was started in 2023, you know, when this request was sent. once again, my b). (though this might just turn into my dream proposal bc i'm in love with him).

for those of you who wanna check the part 1 of the wedding cake fic, here it is!

another edit: i wrote this to distract myself from my absolute disdain at scott mayfield.

carry on.

his hands were sweating all day.

which was weird, considering it was february.

but it wasn't weird, given what he had planned. he didn't know if he wanted to scream or throw up. the idea of you becoming his wife surely made him giddy, but it was soured with the slight chance that you might say no. he was supposed to propose before the season started up again, but he was plagued with anxious thoughts.

it's not the right time.

i'm not ready yet.

or the worst one: i don't think i'm that serious about you.

which, in hindsight, wouldn't make sense considering you were already living together and have been for quite some time. you wore his jersey to games, you had conversations about starting a family, you texted his mom and sister more than he did. there was no reason for you to say no.

right?

right?

after he chickened out back in september, mat's new plan was to wait until the bye week to propose. he was going to take you on a vacation to conil de la frontera, spain. he had everything booked and ready.

but then he was drafted for the 2024 all star games.

he could see it in your eyes, you were ecstatic for him to be recognized, but when you took a week and a half off of work, you were planning on packing your bathing suit, not taking a short flight to toronto.

you bore the slight disappointment well, smiling and kissing him and hugging him tightly when he got the news. he beamed when he saw you post about it on your instagram.

he couldn't wait any longer to ask you. your reaction to a change in your vacation plans from something warm to canada in the winter solidified what he was anxious about for months.

you loved him, there as no doubt about it.

you were the most selfless human being he knew.

his teammates had been crucial in the planning process, well, at least their wives were. bo, marty, anders, brock, and clutterbuck had been chirping him since the start of the season when they noticed that your left hand was still devoid of a ring.

"what're you waiting for, barzy?" bo asked after a practice one day. "you found a good one, she'd probably wait forever for you, but why're you making her wait?"

mat shrugged at the time, too embarrassed to admit that despite being one of the best players in the league and having millions to his name, he was terrified that it still wouldn't be enough for you. not that you'd ever demanded more from him, you'd taken him as he was and cheered for him even when he was having the shittiest time of his life.

he could give you the moon and still wouldn't feel like it was enough.

so when mat finally told his teammates about his plan in toronto, they immediately communicated to the wives who were closest to you. sydney, grace, and holly took you out to get your nails done while marty, anders, bo, and mat started researching the most romantic places in toronto on anders' laptop just in case you spontaneously went through mat's search history.

the day was planned, the photographer and necessary tickets were booked, he'd propose at the evergreen brick works after texting auston matthews about cool places to visit while he was in town, (he had to clarify that he didn't care about cool bars, and was looking to bring you along).

you'd been talking nonstop on the plane ride to toronto that you didn't even notice mat was quietly stewing. everything had to be perfect.

it was the very least that you deserved.

the first day in toronto, both of you explored the city by going to coffee shops and restaurants recommended by players and their significant others. when you made it back to your hotel room, your feet were aching.

you fell face first into the bed, whining into the comforter. "my feet hurt," you groaned.

mat laughed from his position leaning against the wall. "i told you to wear better shoes," he said.

"i didn't anticipate you dragging me all over toronto today."

"well, that's what we'll be doing tomorrow too, so prepare yourself."

"mat," you whined, finally flipping over so he could see your pretty face again. you had a cute pout on your lips that he wanted to kiss away. "we're on vacation."

"and you've never been in this city before, you should get to see it." he walked over to where you were and grabbed your hands. "c'mon, let's go take a bath and then we can order room service and spend the rest of the night in bed."

you were quick to agree.

the following day was pretty mundane. but wednesday was the cause of mat's stress.

his phone lit up with texts from his teammates, his parents, liana, tito, and ethan, all wishing him a good luck. the two of you woke up early enough to go to a local cafe and grab breakfast before taking the bus to evergreen brick work.

"you okay?" you asked, placing your hand on his knee to keep it from bouncing anymore.

he thanked whatever possessed him to keep the ring box in his coat pocket on the side that wasn't pressed up against you.

"yeah," he smiled. "just ready to get there."

when the two of you hopped off the bus, you slid your hand into his almost immediately. out of habit, mat tucked you into his side, happy to just have you close. it was a little cold outside, but it was like he couldn't feel it because of your proximity.

"mat!" you tugged on his arm and pointed at one of the signs. "they have ice skating here!" you grinned widely up at him and he couldn't help but smile right back. "we should go!"

"we will," he said. "i wanna do this trail first."

you looked at him funny. "you wanna go on a walk?"

he shrugged, tearing his eyes away from you to focus on the signs in front of him. "auston suggested this place."

"you're asking for a lot of suggestions from auston. it's unlike you..."

"there's no need to be suspcious, babe. i know that you wanted to be in a tropical place for vacation, that was the plan and everything, but since we're here, thought we'd make the most of it."

you scrutinized his face for a moment longer before nodding and pulling yourself closer to him.

after you secured another hot coffee to combat the cold, mat started leading you on the trail. while you were ordering, he was coordinating with the photographer to make sure she was in position.

the trail itself wasn't that long, thankfully because mat couldn't get a word out and if it was any longer, he feared you would've caught on that he was incapable of speaking.

you were still talking about work drama when you got to the lookout point. your voice was taken away by the sight of toronto in the background.

you hadn't always been the most observant person ever, you didn't even know he liked you until he told you verbatim when he couldn't take it anymore.

"oh my god, mat," you gasped. you pointed at the skyline in front of you with the hand that wasn't holding your coffee. "look how pretty it is!"

he swallowed and knelt down on one knee while your back was turned. mat took the ring box out of his jacket pocket, doing his best not to drop it despite how much his hands were shaking.

"have you ever seen anything that--" you whipped back around to look for him. he watched as confusion filled your face when you didn't see him standing behind you, but kneeling in front of you.

"oh my god," you whispered, dropping your coffee on the ground so you could cover your mouth with both hands. "mat what--"

"i love you," he said. "i love the way you squeal at every cute baby that comes across your for you page or the way you cry at the drop of a hat. i love how you celebrate everyone around you. you are the brightest thing in my life and if i quit my job tomorrow, i know my life would still be fucking amazing because i'd have you.

"i know that my schedule is hectic, and you could probably find a man better than me, who was more consistent, who wasn't going to play games or have practices on your birthday, who could take you out of the country for a vacation to somewhere warm instead of dragging you with me to an all star game. but i promise you, i will do whatever it takes to give you the best life possible if you'd let me. i wanna grow old and crinkly with you, i want our kids to have the same last name as both of us. i want to be able to point you out in crowds and tell strangers that i somehow managed to convince you to marry me.

"i have never been more terrified in my life than i am right now," he admitted. "but i have never been more certain of anything i want more in my life than you. so will you have me? will you marry me?"

in the middle of his speech, mat didn't realize when he'd started crying, didn't even notice that you were all but sobbing. he just recognized the scent of your perfume when you lunged towards him and kissed him hard on the mouth, your tears mixing with his.

"yes," you mumbled into his mouth. "oh my god, yes."

mat let out a watery laugh and managed to slip the ring on your finger even though his hands were shaking. you pulled him up to stand and immediately wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him close.

you were sniffling as he pulled you in for another kiss.

"i love you,' he whispered against your lips.

"love you more," you smiled back.

[creative-clawmarks]

So I wanna talk paralytics and paralysis in regards to Alex's venom (bc I like going on random science deep dives) SO- as I understand it- there are a few different types of paralytics which affect different bodily functions via different methods, but when most people think of temporary paralysis, they think of neuromuscular paralysis, which is what doctors use during surgeries, and some species of jellyfish and snake use to be absolutely terrifying.

Neuromuscular agents won't knock a person out or prevent pain, they just prevent movement. The problem here is that the diaphragm is a skeletal muscle and is affected by neuromuscular paralysis, meaning that without a ventilator or another breathing apparatus, suffocation is practically guaranteed. Really this applies to all neuromuscular agents/neurotoxins.

Here's the interesting thing I found however- Tick Paralysis, which doesn't always affect breathing. Usually starts out as acute ataxia (muscle weakness) and can progress to muscular paralysis if the tick isn't removed. While tick paralysis is also caused by a neurotoxin, my guess is that because ticks are so small the venom isn't particularly potent, and they don't produce a ton of it.

For Alex's venom to not outright kill via asphyxiation, the potency would probably have to be low enough to allow for diaphragm movement (though probably still weakened) but high enough to trap prey, which is a hell of a needle to thread. That, or it's a neurotoxin that specifically avoids effecting the diaphragm, which doesn't really exist as far as I know (then again, vampires don't either)

TL:DR - Neurotoxins are scary as hell and it's likely that someone envenomed by Alex would experience weakened breathing, if not outright suffocation.

(there's a 2008 movie called The Burrowers where the monsters use a venom that effectively causes Locked-in syndrome, but the science is kinda iffy. Roanoke Gaming as a video on it)

You've given me the perfect opportunity to go into depth on this.

So there's this trope I see in vampire stories where something about the vampire's bite makes it so their victims don't struggle. Usually this is due to supernatural influence, a charm or compulsion that makes the bite pleasant instead of painful.

But I wanted the bite to be painful, and more than that I wanted just the idea of being bitten to be terrifying. So I though, what is something naturally occurring that makes it so that something can't move but can still feel pain?

Why, paralytic venom of course!

(I then proceeded to do zero research lol.)

With this new information I can confidently say that, yes, Alex's venom is a neuromuscular paralytic. It makes it so that his prey cannot escape but leaves them conscious and able to feel pain. It does not, however, bring a risk of asphyxiation, because if Alex is going to kill someone I want it to be on purpose. I suppose that means his venom doesn't target the respiratory system, which considering we're talking about fictional monsters I'm gonna say we can suspend our disbelief here.

Humans stand basically no chance against something like that, but other monsters could fight if off much faster due to their regenerative abilities. That's how Tim survived Entry 56/57, Alex was banking on his venom to keep Tim down but instead he shook it off and managed to flee. He would've gotten away if it weren't for the Operator.

Ok, that should be everything...

"But wait!" I hear you cry, "If Alex's venom is super scary and not at all pleasant, then why does Jay like getting bitten by him?"

Because Jay is a freak. Next question.

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

KO-FI

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday! Hope its great! The Untamed please? Its one of my favorite fandoms you've gotten me into 🥰

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38

Mo Xuanyu is married to the Second Jade of Lan.

Song Lan had known she’d married into the Lan – it was obvious – but he’d thought it was some not so bright cultivator that had been bewitched by her pretty face, or possibly literally bewitched, which he’d already decided wasn’t any of his damn business. If some stupid Lan wants a terrifying and amoral demonic cultivator for a wife, then good luck to them. Except they obviously don’t know she’s a demonic cultivator, considering their clan’s history with the original. But again, not his business, not his problem. His first priority is Xiao Xingchen and if Mo Xuanyu is going help him, then he really doesn’t care about who she’s terrorizing in her spare time.

Except it appears he’d underestimated her.

Because she’s apparently Jin Xuanyu now, legitimized and married off to the second most eligible bachelor in the cultivation world, superseded only by his brother who’s been unofficially off the market for over a decade.

Hanguang Jun had lived as a widower and Song Lan had been convinced he was going to die as one. Uncharitably, he wonders if maybe Lan Wangji just has a type, then feels bad about it in the next moment.

She orders Sect Leader Lan around and he lets her. She glares Hanguang Jun down.

To say absolutely nothing of the way she’d taken down Xue Yang. And then given him that dubious honor of taking credit for the kill, likely because she didn’t want to try and explain to her family how she’d managed it.

She had been clever and dangerous as a teenager. She’s managed to vault herself from disgraced bastard daughter to wife of the heir to the Lan and the legal mother to the third in line who will likely be the one actually succeeding Lan Xichen.

Jin Xuan – Xuanyu is a friend. She has very firmly shown herself to be a friend, helping him and protecting Xiao Xingchen and showing what certainly looks like genuine kindness to the girl who’d helped them, A-Qing.

Possibly she’s done all this to ensure their silence over what she used to be, what she is, but if so then it’s been successful. Betrayal would be a poor repayment for everything she’s done. The Lan hadn’t helped him or Xiao Xingchen. She had. The Lan can take care of themselves and if they can’t withstand the machinations of one woman, they deserve what they get.

Xiao Xingchen hasn’t said much, and Song Lan owes him so many apologies, but not here in front of everyone. He at least agrees to fly with him without much fuss. It will be difficult for him to fly with all three of them for any significant distance, but A-Qing asks Xuanyu to fly with her and she agrees with a smile.

Lan Sizhui doesn’t seem particularly thrilled, but he apparently is far too respectful of his step mother to disagree with her.

They’re flying back the inn when Xiao Xingchen presses himself back against his chest and tilts his head back to say, “Song Lan.”

It’s been so long since he’s heard Xiao Xingchen say his name. He has to swallow before he says, “Yes?”

“That’s,” he starts, then stops. “Who was that?”

“Who?” he asks. “We’re traveling with the Lans.”

“The woman,” he says.

His lips tug down into a frown but he tries not to panic. He’s been under charms to confuse and dull his senses for months. “That was Mo Xuanyu.”

If he’s already confused, getting into her legitimization probably won’t help anything.

Xiao Xingchen is silent for a few more moment. Then he asks, “Are you sure?”

What on earth. “Who else would she be?”

“She moves like – and sounds – but. It can’t. She’s – different,” he says.

As wonderful as it is to hear him speaking, Song Lan wishes he were saying less worrying things. “It’s been a long time since we saw her last. She’s grown up and married. Of course she’s different.” He squeezes his arms around Xiao Xingchen’s waist, hoping it’s not too presumptuous when they haven’t discussed anything yet. “It’s okay, after everything that’s happened this all must feel very sudden. Xuanyu is the one that found you. We can trust her.”

He thinks they can trust her. They can trust her more than any other sect cultivator, which granted isn’t saying much.

Xiao Xingchen relaxes against him. “Alright. If you say so.”

[h-worksrambles]

Sonic X Shadow Generations fascinates me. Because it feels like something I shouldn’t be excited for. And yet I absolutely am.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Sonic Generations. It’s my third favourite game in the series and my favourite 3D Sonic game (with Sonic Adventure 2 in a close second). I’m very happy to see it getting a re release to expose it to new audiences, and playing it in 4K60fps on my PS5 is a very enticing. Likewise, I really like Shadow as a character and I’m excited to play as him again.

And yet, his new bonus campaign promises to basically be a bunch of nostalgic pandering for Shadow the Hedgehog, a game which I consider to be, simply put, crap. It was boring, dull, colourless and embarrassing trend chasing. And pretty much everything I hated about it is on display in this trailer.

We’ve got gritty, grey cityscapes, we’ve got the rather blah alien villain, Black Doom returning, we’ve got the looming return of the series’…bafflingly executed lore. In a word, Shadow was a pretty much everything I didn’t want Sonic to be shoved into a blender. I’ve given my thoughts on revisiting past excesses and failures for the sake of nostalgia. I wrote a whole thing about Final Fantasy VII Rebirth and my fears that it would go overboard pandering to the 2000s spin offs (which I dislike a for lot of the same reasons as a lot of Sonic stuff from the mid 2000s). A faux attempt at maturity that sacrifices Sonic’s camp and colour, and lacks the writing competency to make its tone shift work is pretty much my worst case scenario for the series. And now we’re invoking that for nostalgia? Again, I should hate this.

So if I dislike Shadow the Hedgehog so much. If it really is so emblematic of Sonic’s worst excesses that I want it to leave behind in the 2000s…then why am I so damn hyped for this? Why am I not feeling the same dread as whenever VII Remake implicitly threatens to bring back Genesis?

I think it’s because of the specific relationship Sonic has had with its past for the last decade. So much of the stuff from that time period is material that Sega has seemed actively scared to touch again. Sometimes with good reason. But I think that’s why some material from that time has gained such a strong nostalgic cult following, and why they’re held up as such bastions of missed potential. There’s never been anything quite like Shadow or 06 since they came out with how safe Sega has subsequently played things. And in many respects, that’s a good thing. But I can see how it build a sense of mystique around them. It was kind of sad to see 2010s Sonic so…scared of itself. Terrified to invoke its own history but not really committed to a new direction either. And this is pretty much the exact opposite of that hesitancy.

Basically, the reason I react to seeing Westopolis or Black Doom with ‘holy shit let’s go!!!’ rather than ‘why, god, why?’ is because I genuinely never thought I would see them again after this long. It’s just exciting to see Sonic Team throw caution to the wind and embrace all the parts of their franchise. Even the parts I personally dislike. Plus, Sonic Generations is kind of the perfect game in which to reimagine that stuff and make it..actually good this time. This was the game that made Crisis City of all things into a banger level. The game that took Silver, one of the most notorious boss fights in the series, and gave him a kickass encounter.

If they can fix that, they can do anything.

Plus, the fact that the trailers already show all these trippy stage effects and anime af boss fights and set pieces tells me we’re not just gonna be running through the same drab washed out burning cities that made Shadow 2005 so boring. Again, there’s evidently an effort being made to rehabilitate and reimagine this stuff, not just repeat all the same mistakes. And that’s exciting.

So yeah, Sonic X Shadow Generations has somehow managed to get me genuinely excited for all the parts of the series I typically balk at. And that’s pretty impressive.

That said, if I see Mephiles again, I’m leaving.

[fangirleaconmigo]

I've been going through some of your posts about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books recently because... well I'm back in my book/game phase I guess and I really wanted to know if there are any other Dandelion friendships you like from the books and why? Like him and Zoltan or with the other Hansa etc? [Personally I'm a big fan of what little we see of him with Regis and it always makes me weepy that he wrote a biography about him in the games and fondly remarks abt him smelling like herbs all the time]

Awww yayy thanks for spending some time on the ol blog. I absolutely love this question. I don't get to talk enough about Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, and his relationship with Dandelion (for the newbies, that is Jaskier's name in the books) is so lovely.

Dandelion and Friendships

For those who are just joining us, Tea is talking about my series about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books.

I have also written posts about Dandelion's friendships with Ciri and Zoltan:

Dandelion and Ciri

Dandelion and Zoltan

And for this post, I'll focus on Regis and Dandelion's friendship, which I absolutely love.

Dandelion and Regis Friendship (books)

What really strikes me about Regis and Dandelion, is just how patient and kind Regis is with Dandelion. Sometimes it is almost like he’s dealing with a child he cares about. Considering Regis’s age (over four centuries old), Dandelion (approx in his thirties when they meet) IS a child. 

On top of that, Dandy’s personality is rife with traits often associated with kids:

insatiable curiosity to the point where he endangers his own life, (when they go into the forest or sea, Geralt has to essentially, follow right behind him like you would a toddler),

hyper enthusiasm about every discovery he makes, (he whispers in awe when he sees mandrake for the first time, that’s just how he reacts to everything new)

his inability to censor himself or stop asking questions even when everyone else wants him to shut up (he will ask until he understands, no matter the social cues happening)

the way he will act incredibly transparent and awkward while thinking he is being subtle and smooth

Perhaps that is why Regis seems to be so indulgent of him. And somehow their personalities just fit naturally.

Regis’s most annoying trait is to lecture people at length like a professor and cut people off who are asking a question, since he is too eager to answer it. The vampire loves to hold forth on a topic.

Dandelion’s annoying trait (one of many, bless, we know he can't keep it in his pants either) is to ask questions incessantly. In that way, they really kind of fit together. 

Geralt loses patience when Dandelion is being socially inappropriate by asking too many questions. Geralt really values discretion and manners.

Regis is more willing to spend time explaining things and to open up.

Early in the hansa's time together, (before he manages to surprise folks several times over) Dandelion is often seen as the one who is in way over his head. Everyone else is a warrior or a soldier. Dandelion is the soft one. To add to the indignity, Geralt is angry at him during Baptism of Fire because Dandelion keeps forcing him to make friends (well, to ask for help)

Yet Regis, the new guy, is the one who always makes sure Dandelion isn't embarrassed or ashamed.

Here’s a few examples.

When Dandelion is given a bloody head wound by an arrow, the poet is howling and shrieking. He thinks he's dead already. He is not a stoic man. It is played comedically, but Geralt is also legitimately terrified that he will lose Dandelion. That bit is not played comedically.

But given the circumstances, the rest of them could be forgiven for rolling their eyes at the poet's dramatics.

But Regis (who is treating his wounds as the resident barber surgeon) does not.

Regis speaks to him so soothingly, and kindly. (I am omitting the Geralt dramz because I will get off topic lol)

Dandelion groaned and took a sharp intake of breath....

“I’ll put in a few stitches,” Regis said...”Be brave, Dandelion.”

Dandelion was brave.

“Almost done here,” Regis said, setting about bandaging the victim’s head. “Don’t you worry, Dandelion, you’ll be right as rain. The wound’s just right for a poet, Dandelion. You’ll look like a war hero, with a proud bandage around you head, and the hearts of the maidens looking at you will melt like wax. Yes, a truly poetic wound....”

And when it is revealed that Regis is a vampire, and Dandelion is afraid of him, Regis is incredibly patient and kind about the whole thing. He does not take offense. Geralt does! (Ironic, considering Geralt ran Regis off, but Geralt, bless, is dealing with a clusterfuck of feelings about the vampire and everything else going on in his life.)

But yes, after Geralt tells Dandelion about Regis, Dandelion is scared, and wants to seek reassurance. But the poet (unbeknownst to him it seems) is awkward and bad at it. He tries to bring up the issue with the subtlety of a sledge hammer.

Dandelion...deciding to clear up the uncertainty..began as soon as they set off. With his usual tact.

(I like that. His usual tact. Meaning, zero tact lmaoooooo.)

“Milva,” he suddenly called as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire. “...I fancy eating a hunk of real meat for a change! How about you, Regis?”

Yeah. Real subtle Dandelion.

“I beg your pardon?’ the vampire said, lifting his head from the horse’s neck. 

“Meat!” the poet repeated emphatically. “...fancy some fresh meat?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And blood. Would you like some fresh blood?”

“Blood?” Regis asked, swallowing. “No. I’ll decline the blood. But if you have a taste for some, feel free.”

Geralt, Milva and Cahir observed an awkward, sepulchral silence.

I love that. Awkward sepulchral silence. Dandelion causes a lot of those. But Regis does not dismiss him or laugh. He reassures him.

“I know what this is about, Dandelion,” Regis said slowly, “And let me reassure you. I’m a vampire, but I don’t drink blood.”

The silence became as heavy as lead. But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent.

But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent. (sorry I am laughing every other line at this part)

“You must have misunderstood me,” he said, seemingly lightheartedly. “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t drink blood,” Regis interrupted. “...I gave it up.”

Dandelion doesn’t know what that means and keeps pestering Regis to explain. Geralt is embarrassed and tells Dandy to shut up.

However, Regis opens up around the camp fire that night. He tells his life story, and says he hasn’t drank blood in fifty years. Dandelion is incredulous. 

“Not at all?” Dandelion said, and stuttered. But his curiosity got the best of him. “Not at all? Never? But...?”

Geralt is embarrassed again and shuts him down again. Regis, by contrast, is patient and defends Dandelion.

“I beg your pardon,” the poet grunted.

“Don’t apologize,” the vampire said placatingly, “And Geralt, don’t chasten him. I understand his curiosity.”

Baptism of Fire 291-295

That's right. Don't chasten him Geralt.

Regis and Dandelion also just have a wonderful dynamic of picking on each other.

Dandelion teases Regis about his long ass name.

And Regis has a great time teasing Dandelion lovingly. In one scene, Geralt and Regis team up to pick on Dandelion and the secretive way he treats his writing. Dandelion has stolen some paper and pencil from a Lyrian military convoy and is writing whenever they make camp, but gets testy whenever anyone gets near him or looks at his manuscript.

Geralt is good-naturedly giving Dandelion a hard time and Regis jumps in with such adorable relish. (Also, in this scene, we find out that Regis actually named Dandelion's memoirs)

"Indeed," the witcher joined in...."You've become devilishly touchy, Dandelion. One cannot fail to notice that it is somehow connected to the paper which you have recently begun to deface with a bit of lead while we camp." “It’s true,” Regis agreed, “our minstrel has become touchy, not to say secretive, discreet, and loving of solitude recently. Oh no, having witnesses when performing his natural needs doesn't bother him at all...His shameful secrecy and oversensitivity to being watched extends solely to his scribbled notes. Is, perhaps, a poem being written in our presence? A rhapsody? And epic? A romance? A canzone?”

He's like, you don't care who sees you piss and shit, but oh this you care about. lol. Tell us about the poem. But Geralt objects.

“No,” Geralt retorted...”I know him. It can’t be verse, because he’s not cursing, mumbling, or counting the syllables on his fingers. He’s writing in silence, so it must be prose.”

“Prose!” The vampire flashed his pointed fangs - which he really tried not to do. “A novel perhaps? Or an essay? A morality play? Dammit, Dandelion! Don’t torture us so! Reveal what you are writing?”

Dandelion says it is a memoir called Fifty Years of Poetry. Regis says that A Half Century of Poetry sounds better.

“Thanks, Regis, Something constructive at last.”

P 88 -90 The Tower of the Swallow

I admit I'm such a sucker (hehe no pun intended) for whenever Regis's fangs are mentioned, whether he is hiding them, baring them, or unselfconsciously showing them during a warm, silly moment with his friends. (Sobs, I love this vampire, seriously I need an intervention)

Regis also comforts Dandelion openly when the poet is doubting his courage or fitness for a task.

Later in the book, Geralt volunteers for a bloody job/violence for hire that terrifies Dandelion, so the poet protests the plan. Geralt insists he’ll do it alone.

But no! He has a hansa now! He won't be alone! Angoulême volunteers to go. Cahir says he’s coming with as well. Then Milva insists she is coming.

Dandelion freezes.

It would be like the LOTR ‘and my bow and my axe’ yadda yadda scene, but if there was one person left and when it got to them, everyone turned around and looked and they are just standing there frozen like....motherfuck this is scary idk idk wtf do I do. And the way this next paragraph is written, it pleases me.

Dandelion...was evidently struggling with his thoughts. And the thoughts were winning.

lmaooo

And Regis jumps in "kindly." He shows solidarity with Dandelion, and takes the heat by calling himself a coward.

“Stop meditating, poet,” Regis said kindly. For there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re even less cut out to participate in a bloody swordfight than I am. We weren’t taught to carve up our neighbors with a blade. Furthermore...furthermore..,” he raised shining eyes towards Geralt and Milva, “I’m...a coward,” he confessed curtly.

They keep arguing amongst themselves because Geralt believes they have been spied on. And Regis is just...always soft with Dandelion. When Dandelion starts guessing about who is spying on them, and is beginning to ramble incorrectly,

“You’re mistaken, Dandelion,” Regis softly interjected.

The Tower of the Swallow p 182

It's Regis's gentleness that just fuckn kills me. That's always the character that's gonna get me right between the ribs with a shank. (Metaphorically, Regis is too gentle for that)the one that lives in a horror filled, violent, cruel world and is still just kind, even to the loud, awkward, soft, obnoxious poet who is in over his head and is afraid you'll bite him in his sleep and who shrieks when he is wounded.

Geralt and Dandelion are so sassy and old/married with each other, deeply, proudly loving in actions, but always bickering.

It's sweet to see Dandelion have a friendship like the one he has with Regis.

It is so nice to hear that the games continued his love of Regis. (I haven't played them, so I get my info about them from you guys XD)

So thanks again for following me and for the ask! I hope I've done ok answering. I also love Dandy's dynamic with Nenneke and ofc Yen, but I'll stop there.

Hope your week goes really well. x

[33max]

I’m sorry, but as a poc who was in your max fan discord and had to leave because the hate my driver was receiving there with the red bull second seat situation that you or no one did anything about, all the disgusting comments I read there, it feels so hypocritical that you are making that post about liam.

of course I don’t condemn any hate that has crossed lines, but I can’t help but notice how readily people had come to his defense dismissing how the last poc driver was treated, and how the hate received did cross many lines, now knowing that for many drivers beside max the car was difficult to drive, and how messy the inner politics of the team are.

reconsider why now you are considering a drivers mental pressure now when you definitely didn’t care before.

anyone that's been in that discord server a while knows how uncomfortable I am with any driver hate. one of the members literally created an entirely different server to keep that out of our space because of the difficulty it was causing me/others.

driver hate is against the rules. but also there is 177 people in that server and the only space that any driver negativity goes is in the discourse channel, which is further locked with an extra acknowledgement from people in there that it’s not as heavily modded and to proceed accordingly. this is because it is really difficult when you're in a full time job and can't read everything to fully mod a channel like this. we try, but we might miss the occasional overly bitchy comment at the expense of a driver.

I can, with confidence, say that had this been raised to me I would have been mortified and extremely upset!!!!

I'm so sorry that you feel that I don't care about mental pressures that other drivers (especially poc) in f1 face, my tummy aches that I have given you that impression and ofc that is on me. I can assure you that I absolutely do care about mental health in the sport, I'm actually a massive advocate for mental health which you might know or understand why if you follow me, I can definitely work on being more outspoken about hate for other drivers on both discord and here but I do often lack confidence with that as the backlash terrifies me. I'll work on it.

I'm assuming your driver is daniel if he was involved in the second seat situation? I’m sorry that you read anything negative about daniel there, that would have been upsetting for me too. On second thought I suppose your driver could also be yuki, but afaik I don't think anyone has ever spoke even a word of negativity against yuki - either way I'm so sorry that was your experience ♥️

[homunculus-argument]

The more you look into it, the funnier the whole myth of The Grim And Depressing Dark Ages is, in the extent in which it covers everything. Like no matter what area of medieval life you look at, the common misconception of it is something bleak, drab, colourless, joyless and smelling like shit. Like at best, an average peasant's life was repetitive, boring, joyless and smells like shit, and at worst it was terrifying, hopeless chaos that smells like blood and rotting plague corpses. I mean okay it was like that sometimes, but not all the time. They had enjoyments in life. Like consider food.

Medieval peasants' food wasn't just grey wet gruel for every meal and hard bread if you were lucky. One major staple food that was commonly eaten by peasants across Europe was pottage. I think every time and culture has some variation of the "just throw whatever we've got at hand in there and boil/fry/cook that shit" sort of meal, and for medieval peasants, that was pottage. And as the name would imply, it's made by throwing the aforementioned whatever-you-have-at-hand ingredients into a pot and then boiling that shit. And that's what's for dinner every day unless it's a special occasion.

And yeah eating the same damn boiled mush every damn day probably doesn't sound much less depressing than just eating bland gruel, but that's the thing, the pottage wasn't the same thing all the time, every time. The ingredients varied by whatever was available at any given time, by harvests, by what herbs are in season and what produce happens to be in the most ample supply. Different ratios and combinations of the same ingredients, fresh or dried or otherwise preserved, changing from season to season.

Freaking imagine being a medieval peasant whose favourite food in the entire world is spring pottage with meadowsweet mead, best thing you can think of. You've heard talk of finer meals, roast boar with wine sauce that they cook for kings, but you're pretty damn sure that it can't better than the pottage you get on the first weeks of May. The one meal that you'd have every day year round if you could, but you can't, so it's the highlight of your year. The thing you look forward to for months at a time. You're sure that is what is served every day in Heaven, and not only are you 100% down to physically fight somebody about it, you absolutely have. You broke your nose, it never quite healed right, and you regret nothing.

And then spring finally comes, and you've been eagerly keeping an eye on how all the right ingredients start to reach their right time, and not only have you been looking forward to May ever since the snows started melting because that specific Best Goddamn Pottage is the only thing you can seem to think about, everyone in your household has been looking forward to it as well - because it's the only thing you seem to talk about, too, and they're sick of hearing about it.

And this year it tastes like shit.

[bellysoupset]

Vince was not feeling well.

Which was saying something considering he hadn't been feeling well since November last year.

The talk with Wendy had helped, a lot, the knot that had permanently tied in his throat. Knowing they weren't over had him nearly dizzy with relief, even if he was very aware that it wouldn't be easy to have a relationship when they were 4 hours apart.

But there was more. There were his friends still... With whom he hadn't spoken. Well, everyone safe for Leo, who had texted him over Christmas break and hadn't stopped.

"I don't want you unhappy," had been Leo's simplistic answer when Vince met up with him that morning and asked why he was being so cool about the entire situation. Jonah hadn't spoken with him in a while and Vin wasn't sure if he was being ignored or if it was just Jon's regular sullen silences.

He was absolutely certain that Luke was ignoring him and that was more than partially to blame for the queasy sensation that spread all over his body.

"It seems like you're the only one," Vince scoffed, pushing the french fry around with viciousness and glaring at it. He couldn't fathom eating it, with how unsettled his stomach felt.

Leo let out a sigh, "that's not true, Vin." He was sitting back against Fredo's leather seats, finishing off his own burger, "Luke's a wreck, you two should really talk."

"Nothing to talk about," Vince grumbled, trying not to meet Leo's eyes and failing miserably when the blonde glared at him.

"Vince."

"He's just making everything worse," Vince groaned, wincing as his stomach cramped painfully, "it's hard enough leaving and it's hard enough that I'm gonna be four hours apart from my girlfriend and Luke- Luke's fucking everything up."

Leo raised his eyebrows, judgement rolling off of him and Vince ducked his head, muffling a burp against his fist. There was a burning in his chest that nothing could soothe.

"Vince."

"Stop looking at me like that."

"You say you wanna go, but I've never seen you look more miserable," Leo pointed out, his voice gentle, but firm, "look at me, Vin."

He did and immediately grimaced. There was nothing but support and concern in Leo's face, which Vince quickly found that he did not want. He much rather be yelled at, as he was sure Jonah or Bell would have.

"I'm okay."

"Bullshit," Leo sighed, rubbing his face, "don't lie to my face, okay? You're miserable."

Vince shrugged, "I will be okay... I got a job in Doverport."

Leo's eyebrows jumped up, "uhm... Congrats?" he said, unsure given the tone of the conversation, "what is it?"

"History teacher at the local public school," Vince picked at his nails, "I start in a week."

"That's great Vin! You've always wanted to teach..." Leo's voice trailed off and he let out a heavy sigh, "and you're not happy."

"What do you mean? Of course I a-"

"It wasn't a question," Leo twirled the coke in his cup with the metal straw, poking at the ice chips, "why are you moving if you don't want to?"

"I do want to," Vince sighed, giving up all pretense at trying to eat and his upbeat attitude, "I miss my parents, Leo. Which I know- Well, it's not something either of you guys is very familiar with, but I don't just love my family, okay? I like them. I genuinely enjoy spending time with them... And my parents are getting old and Sophia is leaving at the end of the year and I'll see her even less and Liv... I feel like I missed every single milestone? She's six, I- I came to college when I she had just learned to say my name..."

It was terrifying, to know he would be missing out on important memories with the ones he loved regardless of each town he picked.

"No, I get it," Leo nodded, then when Vin raised an eyebrow he rolled his eyes, "okay, fine, I don't get it. Not for a second, this is completely out of my reality... But I saw Jon with Angie this Christmas and how heartbroken he was over them not being closer. I saw Luke with his dad and how Kit doesn't even know him... And I know I spent my whole childhood wishing I had something like that," he shrugged, "so yeah, I don't get it, but I do."

Vince nodded, forcefully swallowing against the knot in his throat, "yeah..." he swallowed again, feeling clammy and ill, "it just sucks, because it feels like I'm letting everyone down and-"

"You're not," Leo reached over the table, grabbing Vin's wrist, "look, it's not you leaving, it's how you did it. At least with Wendy it is."

"You don't know Wendy," Vince scoffed, wiping the sweat collecting over his lip, "she's- She's heartbroken and furious and it's my fault."

"I do know Wendy," Leo rolled his eyes, "she's petty as fuck and she's loyal and she's independent and you asked her to give up her life and move with you after you spent two months lying to her face and leading her on."

Vince's eyes widened and he shook his head, "I didn't lie, I just- What was there to tell if I hadn't made up my mind? Nothing."

"She's your girlfriend, of course you could've said something," Leo glared at him, "you think I'd be happy if Jonah just up and decided something after months of thinking it, when he never shared the plans with me? When I wasn't a part of the conversation?"

As if the realization suddenly hit him, Vince mouthed around nothing, confused, "I didn't... I didn't think of that."

Leo let out a little snort, before starting to drink his coke. He waited, patiently, as Vince came to terms with the new realization.

It took him a minute to put it into words, but he did it, crumpling forward and shielding his face with his hands, saying in a muffled voice, "I fucked up."

"You fucked up," Leo agreed, trying not to sound too harsh, "but she still took you back, so I'm gonna guess you didn't fuck up that badly."

"God knows why she did," Vince grumbled, removing a hand from his face and staring at the table, looking like he wanted to say something and failing.

Leo's winced in sympathy, "look, we love you, Vin. All of us. That's not gonna change, okay? They'll get over it."

"Yeah," his friend nodded, not looking like he believed it, "you should come visit..." he didn't raise his eyes from the table, "I'm really going to miss you, kid."

Leo's valiant smile and upbeat attitude wavered a little and he only nodded, not quite managing to fake it, "yeah, I'll miss you too..."

"I think we should get going, I still have to hit the road..." Vince cringed just at the thought. His father had let him borrow the car, so he could retrieve all the boxes from Wendy's apartment and the trunk and backseat were already loaded up.

He still had to swing by his girlfriend's apartment to get some stuff and to say goodbye... And his stomach was burning just thinking of it.

Everything felt horrible, from getting up to hugging Leo goodbye, to driving away and the prospect of the four hours long drive before him... And saying goodbye to Wendy...

Vince was so caught up in his own angst, that he completely missed the car parked next to Wendy's pink one. He had started to sweat back in the restaurant, clammy perspiration over saying goodbye to Leo, but that by now he knew was more than just that.

He felt downright woozy during the elevator ride, the small lunch he had been able to force down starting to flip in his stomach. Vince leaned against Wendy's red front door, resting his forehead on it and took a measured breath.

He just had to fake it for half an hour more. Just enough to kiss her goodbye and try not to start crying over it and then...

"And you think it's the meds?" Wendy's voice travelled through the door and Vince groaned, as he quickly realized she had company, Bella's voice answering.

"I hope it's just the meds... I'm scared, Wendy - Fuck that, I'm overwhelmed..."

"Of course you are, it's a lot to handle on your own, Bells..."

Vince turned the doorknob, deciding to make his presence known sooner rather than later. He was already in both women's shit list, the last thing he wanted was to be accused of eavesdropping on them.

As soon as he opened the door, the talking died down and both girls turned to face him. Bella was leaning against the dining table, while Wendy was on the opposite side, putting the decor back on top of the table after they had lunch.

He could still smell it in the air, raspberry pie and something else.

"Oh hey, you're back early!" Wendy's voice went up a note, all awkward in a way that wasn't like her at all. She glanced nervously at Bella, who had crossed her arms defensively and raised her eyebrows.

"Hi," Bell said coolly and Vin all but flinched at her tone.

He loved this girl like a sister and it was a slap to the face to be treated like that.

"Hi," Vince gripped the doorknob, "I'm on my way out," which was the wrong thing to say, because Bell let out an incredulous, bitter scoff, while Wendy promptly dropped the vase she was holding down on the table, looking spooked.

"Already? I thought you were only leaving tonight..." She looked all heartbroken, "I thought we'd have more time-"

"Don't let the door hit you on your way out," Bella said and Vince reeled at her tone, while Wendy's mouth hung open, her heart shaped face turning pink.

"That's fucking enough, Bell," she glared at the ginger, "you can be civilized or you can leave."

A horrible warmth spread all over Vince and he breathed in deeply through his nose. The floor seemed to be swimming, nausea clinging to the back of his throat.

"I'm not gonna coddle him just because-"

"This isn't about Vince and you know it, you're letting your feelings get in the way-"

"Yeah, damn right I am!" Bella exclaimed, her voice a note louder and Vince groaned, as it made his head pound.

He was going to be sick.

His mouth filled with saliva and he gulped down nervously, trying to think through the horrible fog. He could bolt for the bathroom, but that would get them questioning him, besides... He really didn't want to impose on Wendy, she was already being too understanding-

"Helloooo? I'm talking with you, jackass," Bella's voice cut through the haze and Vince struggled to focus on her. She had moved closer, while Wendy was hot on her heels, looking flustered and pissed off.

"You really should go now, Bella-"

"Fuck no, I won't, not until he looks at me-"

"Move," Vince groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and darting a hand forward. It touched Bell's wrist and he squeezed it as well, "Bella, get out of the way-"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Bella's voice suddenly was much louder, "let go off me-" the implication of her words was more nauseating than anything and Vince's stomach surged up in his throat... And he didn't have it in him to even fight it.

He bent in half, shoving Bella back to avoid getting her combat boots covered in sick and then lost his lunch on Wendy's foyer. All over his boots.

Vince swayed on the spot, a cramp hitting him fiercely and he would've crumpled down to his knees, wasn't it for Bella grabbing him suddenly.

"Vince?! Vin, what the fuck!?" Bella exclaimed right next to his ear, her voice strained by the effort of keeping him collapsing. He was far too big for her, if his knees fully gave in, he'd pull them both down, "what's wrong? Are you sick? Are you hurt?!"

All that anger gone in the flick of a wrist.

Vince let out a groan, squeezing his stomach. Everything felt horrible, his head felt completely disconnected from his body, his belly was sour and far from empty, churning up a storm and he was freezing...

"Aw honey," Wendy's voice, a balm to his nerves, made Vince open his eyes. A towel had already been draped over the puddle of sick and his girlfriend had wrapped her arm around his opposite side, helping Bella hold him up, "you're not well, I can feel the fever from here..."

"I'm g-" His throat constricted and Vince gulped down against the knot in there, "gon'besick..."

"Yeah, help us," Bella gasped, sounding worried and frustrated as they tried to move him to the bathroom. Without his help, not even in a pair they could do much.

Vince nodded, shivering violently and leaning on them, using all his force to move. He collapsed down on the bathroom floor, taking Bella with him since she was the one further inside.

There wasn't much time to think as he pushed the toilet lid up and tried, vaguely, not to cause a bigger mess. His stomach cramped again, squeezing, and Vince white knuckled the porcelain, heaving.

A hand cupped his forehead, supporting his heavy head and Vince leaned into the soft touch with a sob. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, flip flopping between the horrible sensation of his body and the confusion and hurt over the previous interaction.

"I'm-ssssorry..." Vince slurred, sounding and feeling drunk, trying to get rid of the line of thick spit dangling from his bottom lip.

"Shut up," Bella said quietly, dabbing his lip with a wad of toilet paper, "jesus, you're soaked..."

"Here," Wendy, crouching down next to them, planting a humid washcloth to the back of his neck. Vince let his eyes slip closed, immediately regretting it as in the darkness he could feel the room twirling around him-

"Arms up," Bella, grabbing his elbow, "c'mon, big guy, help me here."

"Whataare... What are you doing...?" Vince forced his eyes open and realized he was no longer slumped over the toilet, but propped against the cold wall of the bathroom. Wendy was standing near the sink, re-wetting the washcloth.

"You're boiling," Bell explained, all soft, "we need to get your temperature down."

He really didn't feel like he could trust her, not after all the yelling, not after she had been ignoring him... Besides, it was freezing.

"No, 'mnot..."

"Yes, you are, Vin," Bella pushed his damp hair back, looking terribly concerned, "this is going to help, okay?"

"Uhm-" he couldn't help but lean on her touch, letting his eyes close. Sure, he was hurt over Bell's words and she was pissed at him, but it was still Bella...

"Honey," Wendy, patting his cheek, "Vin, open your eyes... Vin..."

He tried to force them open, ready to cry over not being able to just fucking sleep. Being awake just meant feeling like he was about to spew the food he had eaten back in 8th grade, he'd much rather sleep-

"Vince," Wendy shook him a little harder and Vince opened his eyes. He was shirtless now, which was more than a little concerning. He didn't remember taking his shirt off.

Bella was perched on the bathtub, watching over them, and Wendy was crouched in front of him, cupping his face.

Vince's head swam as he tried to focus on his girlfriend. Wendy's eyes were the size of platters, all worried.

"Hi..."

"Hey," she forced a smile, stroking his cheek, "how are you feeling?"

"Like crap," Vince groaned and couldn't help a small smile as he heard Bella snort.

"Yeah?" Wendy rolled her eyes, "when did you start feeling sick, honey?"

"Uhm..." Vince winced as another cramp hit him and he curled up, sucking in the air. It took a second to breath through the hot, sharp pain and as soon as the iron grip in his inside eased, a new wave of nausea hit him. He was sweating, gulping nervously as his mouth watered and his tongue felt too big for his mouth, "don't feel good..."

"I know, sweetheart," Wendy smoothed his hair back, "I just need to know for how long this has been going on. Were you sick this morning?"

She sounded so... Calm. So gentle. Somewhere in the recess of his mind Vince knew this wasn't a good thing, that this was Wen using her doctor voice. The last thing he wanted was to be an even bigger bother-

Tears stung his eyes and Vince curled up even more, turning his head away from Wendy... His eyes paused on Bella and she looked horribly guilty. Twice as concerned. None of the calm that Wendy sported, panic was written all over her face.

"I'm so sorry," she said before Vince could say anything and a sob bubbled up, making his whole frame shake. Vince ducked his head, he didn't want to cry, but the fever was frying at his nerves and before he head any control over it, big fat tears started to run down his cheeks.

"Hey, hey..." Wendy whispered, moving up and wrapping her arms around him, pulling Vince into a tight hug, "hey, I got you. You're okay-"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into her hair, words sticking together, shaking them both, "I'm sorry, I don't- I'm making a mess, I've made a mess-"

"No, no, we're fine," Wendy squeezed him, kissing the side of his head, "we're working through it, right? We're okay- You're okay-"

"No, I'm not, I don't- I hate this. Everything is wrong and I feel wrong, and-" Vince sobbed, his words jumbling together in one continuous stream that made no sense even to his own ears and suddenly there was another pair of arms wrapped around him, squeezing him even tighter than Wendy was.

"B-Bell...?"

"I'm here- You-you're okay," she mumbled, voice muffled since Bella's cheek was squished to his shoulder, "we're okay, alright? We're gonna be okay."

"But- but you hate..." Vince whimpered and Bella pulled back, all but replacing Wendy in cupping his face, forcing their eyes to meet.

"No, I'm furious at you, I don't hate you," she glared at him, "not for a second, Vin."

This was all very touching, but Vince's stomach apparently hadn't gotten the memo he was having a moment, because suddenly he was gagging.

Bella jumped out of the way and both women pushed him forward to lean over the bowl, just in time for the rest of his stomach lining to make a reappearance. He coughed and coughed, but there wasn't much more to bring up and Vince was left panting and sobbing, curled up over the toilet bowl.

He felt Bella's fingers moving through his sweaty hair, Wendy squeezing his arm as she got up from the ground, "stay with him, I'm gonna settle the room. Clearly he's not stopping any time soon."

Vince groaned, he didn't need Bell to sit with him, he didn't need a nanny... Bella flicked at his ear.

"No one said anything about you needing a nanny," she scoffed, before continuing to comb his hair, "you seem hellbent on throwing up on me."

Vince let out a surprised chuckle, eyes closed as he breathed through the nausea that was starting back up, "it's the least you deserve after yelling at me like that."

Bella snorted, running her hand up and down his naked back, "god, I'm gonna fucking miss you."

[miimo96]

Thoughts on V3NOM

This 1 feels very Rushed to say the least, like aside from all the cool backstory with Knull and the Symbiotes, this 1 feels the most Weaker Story wise, like Don't get me wrong it's a GOOD movie, but in my opinion, it could've been WAYY better.

Like there are so many things that I feel could've been expanded upon more if given more time, like the fact that Eddie doesn't even feel like a character anymore, instead now being a Plot device that is just meant to get “Venom” from point A to point B, to the fact that shit that feels like it's gonna go somewhere DOESN'T, to even the fact that Knull, THE MAIN VILLAIN OF THE MOVIE, doesn't even FEEL like a looming threat, which is really BAFFLING in my opinion; I haven't read King in Black o I don't  really know that much about him but if you tell  me that he's supposed to be the BE All END All type of Villain, than I expect to see it, like this is supposed to be the GOD of Symbiotes yet the “Scariest” thing this guy's done, is just sit in a chair Menacinly and send minions the entire movie. (I guess bro took a page out thanos's book on how to NOT be Menacing) like I wanna see what exactly makes him So terrifying to begin with. 

Another thing that bothered me is how WASTED everything feels, like this is supposed to be the FINAL Movie, yet things don't feel fulfilled or resolved, so many questions are lingering still, Eddie's relationship with Anne hasn't gotten better, in fact she feels like an Afterthought at this point, and characters and Plot points that feel like their going to have a Major impact, DON'T. Oh and does even get me STARTED on how the Symbiotes were handled in this movie, like here I was, ready to get excited to see Lasher, Toxin, and  the other Symbiotes make their Debut and hopefully kick some ass, and they all get Effing WASHED like yesterday's laundry, LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL F%*K Sony!? Also how you gonna give us effing Agony before SCREAM, the better female and better looking Symbiote in my opinion.

And another thing, im sorry but am I the only 1 that seems to remember that the Symbiotes have the ability to make clothes, like there's a scene in the Trailer where Eddie's wearing a Black tux and i originally thought that this was their way of showing that the Symbiote made him clothes, which isn't really seen that much,other than a few cartoons incorporating it along the Insomniac Spiderman games, and I thought this would be the PERFECT opportunity for that, but No, instead it was just cuz venom knocked a dude out and Jacked him of his clothes, which IS funny but C'MON!

1 thing I absolutely Loved tho about this movie was how they Humanized The Symbiotes, like they actually feel like peaceful creatures who are just trying to look for a New home, and people tend to forget about that, like aside from OG Venom and Carnage the Symbiotes aren't really all that Evil, they're just misunderstood and I'm really glad Sony chose to focus on that, So ya earn a Gold star there Sony, however, I just wish they had more time to flesh out the Symbiotes because aside from venom, they LITERALLY almost all feel and act the same, Maybe if they had more personality I'd like them more but so far, they literally either all SOUND the same, or ACT the same, and that's kinda sucky considering each Symbiote in the comics Has their own personality, like Venom is a goofball who only really is Evil because of his Hatred towards Spiderman, other than that he's just a chocolate loving monster who loves surf the Web and Apparently Sing Strangers in Night, Meanwhile Carnage on ther hand is a PSYCHOPATHIC killer, who ENJOYS what he does, he enjoys KILLING just because he can, and it really shows if ya read Absolute Carnage; I didn't really enjoy how they handled Carnage in Venom 2 mainly because I'm So used to Carnage acting a certain way and because I mainly know Carnage through the original spider man Ps1 game and through the Original Spider man 90s animated show, but it was better than nothing I guess. ^^; (Still, I just WISH he didn't SOUND like that, because I'm sorry that's NOT Carnage)

The last 2 movies felt more like HOMAGES to whatever came before, mainly 90s stuff from Lethal Protector, to Maximum Carnage, all the way to the Life foundation, they all just really felt like something you'd probably see back then in the early to mid 2000s, just some fun movies to watch with Simple direction, and Ok Storytelling, you MAY not get it, but you'd STILL enjoy it, THIS ONE however, felt more like it was trying to be more modern, and trying to setup too many things as possible, while also leaving you kinda *Disappointed* to say?  I don't know it just felt like it was missing something and I don't really like that because while the last 2 movies felt complete and actually did resolve things, this 1 just felt more like that 1 spongebob scene in the lost episode, where patchy just looks at the Tv and says “That's it?” It feels like uh like a Hollow shell compared to the last ones. That isn't to say it's a BAD movie, it's just not a FULFILLING one, it feels like there's more left, especially with that Shadowy figure we kept seeing talk to general Strickland the entire movie, and we might Never see what that more left was, considering this is the LAST movie. If I had to Rank these films,  it would be in the most Bland and usual way possible,  with Venom 1 being in 1st place, Venom 2 being in 2nd place, Venom3 being in 3rd place, all movies are GOOD, it's just that this 1 feels the most Weaker compared to the others; But anyway that's just what I think, what about You, did you enjoy Venom the Last dance, or were you Disappointed ?

[ozai-the-bonsai]

For the Greater Good

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Pairing: Tom Marvolo Riddle x Slytherin!OC

Summary: Growing up with the dream of joining the Alliance, Ophelia's only wish has been to take her place by Grindelwald's side. As Grindelwald starts losing power during her last year at Hogwarts, Ophelia desperately searches for a way to turn the tide one last time. Eventually, she gets caught up in Tom Riddle's radar, who starts delving into her past.

Warnings: Strong language

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Well, this is a short story I have been working on from time to time since last December. I don't know if I will ever get to complete it; however, I didn't want the piece I have written so far to rot on my computer... If this finds anyone at all, I hope you enjoy the first chapter and please let me know what you think! I could as well start a taglist if anyone is interested.

It was rather ironic that the first time her mother accompanied her to platform 9 ¾ was her last time taking the Hogwarts Express from King’s Cross Station.

Looking at her, Ophelia was once again absolutely mesmerised by her mother’s beauty -her flawless, porcelain face was adorned with her naturally turned-up nose and plump lips. Sometimes, with forty-four, she managed to look just a few years older than Ophelia, who was about to turn eighteen in a few months.

Such perfection cannot be achieved with magic, otherwise all the old hags wouldn’t be around, Ophelia thought. She must be bathing in the blood of Muggles.

Her mother turned her blue eyes at Ophelia almost immediately. “I won’t even let one of those vermin touch me -and you think I would defile my skin with their blood?” She clicked her tongue. “You disappoint me, daughter.”

“Stop lingering in my head!” Ophelia hissed between her gritted teeth as she quickly built up a mental wall using Occlumency. Of course, she knew she had to keep the wall up at all times -her mother was trying to make her get used to it -but still, she sometimes let it slip.

Her mother raised an eyebrow at Ophelia’s direction. “Then you have to be more vigilante, Ophelia.” She tried to enter Ophelia’s mind once again, only to hit the mental wall. The edge of her crimson lip curled upwards. “Impressive.”

“Father taught me well.”

“Speaking of which,” her mother said with a silk like voice. “He did want to come here to see you before you head off for the last time; however, considering how it would complicate the things, he wanted me to instead give you this.”

Ophelia snickered as her mother searched for something in her handbag. “I find it hard to imagine him standing here,” she told honestly. “But I would sure love to see the terrified looks on everyone’s faces.”

“Why terrified? He does have quite the supporters around here, dear, all the Purebloods would stand in a line to simply shake his hand.” Upon finding what she was looking for, her mother handed Ophelia a silver necklace. “For the greater good.”

Ophelia didn’t really need to look down in her palm to see what was on the necklace -it was the sign of the Deathly Hollows. As she put on the necklace and let it rest cold against her chest, her green eyes met her mother’s blue ones. “For the greater good.”

Vinda Rosier put on a questioning expression on her face when she saw her daughter placing the necklace under her white shirt. “Why are you hiding it right away?” She asked with a confused tone. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I do like it, mother,” Ophelia said and then lowered her voice to a whisper. “But I don’t want to wave it in front of Dumbledore’s face.”

A grimace appeared on her mother’s face almost immediately. “Oh, right, he still hasn’t given up on watching everything you do, has he?”

Ophelia shook her head, placing her hands into the pockets of her beige, pinafore trousers. “Nope,” she muttered. “Still like a hawk.”

From the moment Ophelia set a foot into the castle, Albus Dumbledore had been keeping a strict eye on her, observing each of her social interactions, watching every little action from her side. This still hadn’t been enough to keep Ophelia away from causing trouble or breaking the rules; however, she had to admit that it could have been easier.

In order to avoid being seen, one of the very first things she had mastered was the Invisibility Potion -which was not as effective as a real Invisibility Cloak but still allowed her to move around without being noticed.

Also, Dumbledore was the reason why Ophelia wasn’t made Prefect or Head Girl even though she was by far the brightest witch in her year. Dumbledore had quite the influence on all the other professors, hence he had successfully managed to keep them from giving Ophelia more power and influence over other students.

As if it was a better idea to give him all the power by making him Head Boy, Ophelia thought as her green eyes found a tall, pale-faced young man walking towards her, his Head Boy badge shining on his chest. Being the Golden Boy has its perks.

“Rosier,” Tom Riddle greeted Ophelia with a simple nod as he slowed down his steps. Then, he turned his dark eyes to her mother. “Vinda Rosier, I suppose?” Her mother nodded. Tom extended his hand. “Tom Riddle.”

Vinda Rosier shook his hand. “If my memory doesn’t deceive me, Ophelia has mentioned your success and extraordinary talent for magic.” She spoke with a voice as smooth as velvet, which she only used when talking with Grindelwald’s other followers. “It would be a shame to waste such a gift.”

Anyone that knew who Vinda Rosier was, could easily understand the hidden meaning of her words and judging by the look in his eyes, Tom was very well aware of what her mother was trying to imply.

“I do not intend to waste anything, Miss Rosier,” Tom responded with his Golden Boy attitude surrounding him. “However, my views on the matter are rather more radical than that of yours and his.”

Ophelia intervened quickly. “Mum, I hope you aren’t trying to recruit my classmate into the Alliance.” Her tone was mocking but still, she had lowered her voice.

A mischievous smile appeared on Vinda Rosier’s crimson lips. “Of course not, darling. However, I’d very much like to hear about his views on the matter sometime in the future.” She squinted, looking over Ophelia’s shoulder, trying to see more clearly. “Is that Francis over there?”

Looking at the same direction as her mother, Ophelia nodded upon seeing Francis Rosier -Vinda’s cousin -accompanying his daughter Aurora Rosier to the Hogwarts Express. “Yes, that’s him.”

“I shall have a word or two with him.” Vinda muttered, then she gave her daughter a warm hug. “Take care, darling and keep up the good work.”

“Thanks, Mum. Please tell Dad that I loved the present.” Ophelia spoke quietly before breaking off the hug. Vinda walked into the opposite direction, whereas Ophelia and Tom Riddle headed towards the train. “He is her cousin,” Ophelia said, causing Tom to look at her. “Francis Rosier.”

Tom nodded in an understanding manner. “I see,” he spoke with his usual, calm voice. “I figured you were related to Aurora and Augustus someway, of course, but I never knew you were distant cousins.”

Ophelia shrugged in a careless manner. “Well, Aurora herself figured that out in our fifth year, so yours is still acceptable.”

An uncomfortable silence ruled between the two as they got onboard the train and walked past numerous compartments filled with younger students on their way to the carriage inhabited by the Slytherins. Tom, however, decided to break it.

“You don’t carry the same, strong French accent as your mother.”

Ophelia chuckled lightly, she found it amusing that he chose this very detail to observe. “She was born and raised in France, also she spent most of her life there.” Ophelia responded as she pushed a strand of her chestnut hair behind her ear. “I have lived in Austria till I was 10. Then, we moved to Britain.”

Tom raised a questioning eyebrow as Ophelia stopped in front of an empty compartment. “So that you could attend Hogwarts?” He asked, only to attain a simple nod from Ophelia. “Why? You could have gone to Durmstrang.”

The young woman shrugged. “It was decided that I must attend Hogwarts.”

The edge of his lip turned upwards as Tom watched Ophelia take a seat by the window. “It has been seven years, and you still won’t let anyone get the slightest glimpse of what lies behind those icy walls of yours, will you, Rosier?”

Ophelia mirrored Tom his smile back while crossing one leg over the other. “You are a fine one to talk, Riddle.” Her voice had the hints of playfulness. “Don’t you have Head Boy duties to attend to?”

Tom shook his head in an unapproving manner and turned back to leave. “It is a shame you weren’t made Head Girl,” he said with a smooth voice as he let the compartment door close. “You’d be a better fit than Veronica Larch.”

Ophelia’s eyes widened with shock as she watched Tom Riddle walk away. They chose Veronica fucking Larch as the Head Girl and not me? For fuck’s sake, I cannot remember the last time she had better grades than I did!

Maybe she is better at sucking up to Dippet.

[Time Skip]

During the first half of the journey, Ophelia could swear she hadn’t experienced a more pleasant train ride before. She was completely alone in her compartment, there was no one bothering her with unnecessary small talk -she had absolute peace for the first time in a long while.

She had spent the summer holiday in Austria -in Nurmengard Castle to be more precise -along with her mother and Grindelwald’s other Acolytes. It was better than having to stay with her grandparents in Britain, of course -but still, it had been quite stressful at times.

When things were not going the way he planned them to, Grindelwald was not fun to be around.

However, she needed to get used to his bad side as well since she wanted to take her place among his Acolytes as soon as she was done with Hogwarts. This had been her biggest dream ever since she was a little girl -to help Grindelwald establish a wizard-led system the world desperately needed.

The greater good had been the only thing she had seen around her while growing up, her mother used to tell her bed-time stories about the new world they were trying to build -Grindelwald and his Acolytes.

That was why she had spent the summer in Nurmengard, training with her mother and the other Acolytes in their spare time. Hogwarts had been successful in teaching her most of the vital things she needed; however, it lacked the training in Dark Arts -which was by far the most important branch Ophelia had to master.

While Ophelia was lost in her own world, the door to the compartment was opened, causing the young woman to leap up in her place. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to scare you.” Abraxas Malfoy was standing at the door with Aurora Rosier and Emrys Lestrange behind him. Upon seeing the disturbed look in Ophelia’s green eyes, Abraxas spoke hesitantly. “If you want to be left alone, we could just leave.”

Ophelia rolled her eyes at him as she shrugged in a careless manner and took off the navy-blue scarf wrapped around her shoulders -it was getting warmer.

Emrys snickered at Ophelia’s reaction as he sat down next to her, Abraxas and Aurora took the seat across. “At the beginning of every year, we somehow hope for Ophelia to come back a little less distant, but it always ends in a huge disappointment.” His voice carried the hints of mocking.

“Just admit that you are in love with me, Emrys.” Ophelia crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at Emrys’ direction. From the corner of her eye, she could see Aurora and Abraxas holding hands. So, they finally got together, she thought to herself. Not that it interests me, but it took them long enough.

Emrys let out a laughter this time. “For that to happen, one needs to get to know you first.” He shrugged. “I don’t see it happening even in our last year at Hogwarts, sunshine.”

The edge of Ophelia’s lip curled upwards, even though she wasn’t fond of small talk, sometimes she found it entertaining to bicker with Emrys. “Fair enough.”

“Are you two done?” Aurora asked with a somewhat annoyed tone. After taking a deep breath, the strawberry blonde turned her gaze at Ophelia. “How was your summer?”

Ophelia pushed her waves out of her sight as she responded. “It was nice, I got to spend more time with my parents this time and learned some interesting stuff. What about you?”

Aurora’s light blue eyes found that of Abraxas’ as a small smile formed on her lips. “I spent the last three weeks with Abraxas in France.”

“So this,” Ophelia pointed at their hands, “happened right after we returned home?” The couple nodded simultaneously. Ophelia sent them a fake smile. “Good for you.”

“But not so good for us,” Emrys muttered, “they will be making out all the time in the common room.”

Ophelia heaved a sigh. “Then simply look away.”

Abraxas chuckled upon hearing Ophelia’s remark. “I knew my second favourite Rosier would support us.” He said, causing Emrys to roll his eyes in an exaggerated way. “I have never seen you wearing a necklace.”

It took a few seconds for Ophelia to realise that Abraxas was talking to her. “Yeah, it is a gift from my… parents.”

Aurora seemed interested, too. “Can I see it?” She asked, only to correct herself. “I mean we, sorry, I forget how much of a little girl Abraxas becomes when it is about jewellery.”

The blonde-haired young man was about to come up with something clever to say to his girlfriend; however, the whole compartment went completely silent for a few moments as Ophelia showed them the rest of the necklace.

Everyone was familiar with the association between the Deathly Hollows and Grindelwald.

“Well,” Abraxas began to speak, “it is quite courageous to carry that around your neck at this time, don’t you think so?”

Before Ophelia could snap at him, Aurora took the word. “It has been common knowledge for a long time that Ophelia supports Grindelwald and his case -at least she has the guts to stand behind her words and her beliefs.” It was seldom that Aurora Rosier became that serious. “Unlike us all, who dare speak about our support only behind closed doors.”

Abraxas couldn’t come up with a response, Emrys turned his gaze to the ground.   

A warm smile formed on Aurora’s lips as she looked at Ophelia. “I think it is beautiful.” She said, pointing at the necklace. However, Ophelia wasn’t really there at that moment, instead her mind was drifting to a memory from her fifth year at Hogwarts.

Ophelia freed her arm from Aurora’s firm hold, who had been dragging her to the bathroom at their dormitory. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Aurora?!” Ophelia hissed between her gritted teeth.

“I should ask you the same question, Ophelia.” Aurora responded, her voice was becoming louder by the second. “How can you not tell me that you are Gellert Grindelwald’s one and only heir?!”