#((reminded me i never posted the second part of this project))

[angryandereleon]

The Madness of Duke Lovecraft

Based off this: Madness of Duke Venomania

[somewhereincairparavel]

Annabeth Chase and Jason Grace - two sides of the same coin, an analysis post.

after a long wait, I've finally posted my analysis on jason/annabeth being similar, and mirroring eachother as rivals/potential sibling figures more than percy/jason's 'bro rivalry', based on this post of mine which has crossed over a THOUSAND notes in the last week alone, and I've been getting so many reblogs and comments asking me to expand on my tags in that post and do a full analysis. so here it is. I've been procrastinating this for quite a while now for some reason but I'm glad I'm over my writer's block and I got to articulate my post well enough.

annabeth and jason have had very minor interactions throughout hoo, but the parallels and similarities in their character is jarringly noticeable, which is why I hoped for a jason/annabeth rivalry and not a percy/jason rivalry. they've both been raised at their respective camps since they were literal kids, they were well versed in their respective fields of knowledge, and were well respected/intimidated in their camps.

let's start off with the lost hero

when jason first meets annabeth, he says that her eyes were really intimidating and fierce, so right off the bat, we have jason who's pretty put off by annabeth because she very obviously looked angry, especially since she was frustrated about jason's arrival instead of percy, and looked like she could kill jason to get percy back.

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

this parallels to a lot when hazel kept going on about how difficult it was to warm up to jason because his eyes were always calculating and cold, and he gave off an untrustworthy vibe, that he'd sacrifice anyone for the sake of the mission.

both annabeth and jason have a certain similar ‘look’ in their eyes, which have nothing to do with the color. they both have the tendency to make people nervous simply with their eyes, because they always look like they're thinking of new things every few seconds. Ironically, jason first perceived annabeth, the way everyone else perceived him. scary and intimidating with an icy glare and hardened eyes.

They were both said to be ‘studying’ each other in distrust many times throughout. A part of why they didn't trust each other, was, in my opinion, because they embodied their least favorite shared personality trait of each other, secretiveness and guardedness. which is why annabeth got on so well with percy, and jason with leo/piper.

they didn't admire the closed off-ish vibe that they gave eachother. they both needed people who were open and carefree.annabeth said that jason looked like he knew too much information, but chose to keep it all a secret, very similar to her own guardedness from time to time, keeping it a secret and wanting to deal with it silently.

we also know that annabeth and jason are extremely knowledgeable in greek/roman mythology, they both love debates and were quite passionate about history. they were both assigned architecture projects by the gods themselves as a mark of honor and favour.

moving on to the next most important point, they reminded eachother of the people they missed, causing them to feel resentful.

jason, barely met his sister after they reunited. he was bitter when thalia said he had to go look for percy to help out annabeth with the search. he was aware that thalia and annabeth were childhood friends, getting closer to eachother than jason and thalia ever did. she found a home in luke and annabeth, not even a few months after baby jason was thought to be ‘dead’, that knowledge would've weighed a lot on jason. annabeth became the sibling to thalia grace that jason could never be.

while annabeth? the only thing annabeth thought of, after jason had a face off with his mother's remnant in boo, was the fact that jason, who looks eerily similar to luke, could've experienced the exact same fate as him. luke was jason if he had more wrath and held grudges, jason was luke if he had less anger and resentment. annabeth could connect the dots so easily, and that was truly the moment where she gained immense respect for him.

and, when jason told annabeth that his sister was thalia? she had a very odd sort of expression on her face.

annabeth also quotes that looking at jason made her feel bitter, because he reminded her of heras exchange, and the fact that she lost percy for months. whenever she looked at jason, she would only see her two childhood friends, a found family that was broken, and a love that was challenged.

whenever jason looked at annabeth, he would be reminded that thalia had a closer contact to her than she did jason, and had to accept that he would never know thalia as much as annabeth does.

annabeth and jason also appear very confident and sure of themselves, but have second thoughts all the time. they had to put on a fake facade, to live up to their expectations and lineage.

they were both also sort of people pleasers, annabeth couldn't really say no to anyone who asked her for help with things, like carrying the sky for luke especially, because not only where they giving her a chance to execute her knowledge and skill, the thought of helping someone made her genuinely happy. jason also loved seeing people happy, always wanting to say the right thing to satisfy someone, even if it meant he had to sacrifice his own struggles to help them.

fatal flaws:

annabeth’s fatal flaw, is hubris. when you are confident and sure that you can do something, and have a sense of excessive self pride.

and jason's fatal flaw is the temptation to deliberate. hesitation and second guessing, to put it in simpler words.both fatal flaws are so different, yet so similar, and they have both flaws, just in a different viewpoint.

as a child of athena, annabeth appears super confident and even conceding at times because of her wisdom, but at the same time, annabeth had to make sure she was one step ahead of everyone. she had to rethink everything and had to have a plan in her mind all the time, fearing that things wouldn't go smoothly.

she had to hesitate and second guess herself alot, despite her knowledge, like she did when she knew she had to look for the mark of athena. piper and percy had to boost up her confidence with affirmations, to let her know she's on the right path and to just follow her gut. annabeth feels obligated to have a temptation to deliberate, because, as a child of athena, she has to be all knowing and wise, and most definitely cannot fail her mother.

and jason? despite having a very low sense of self esteem and hesitation, he was so used to leading the people who were considered slightly inferior to him in camp jupiter, and basically getting treated like a celebrity for 12 years of his life in camp jupiter, that often, he thought what he did was right, he had his own perception of what a hero should be, and I quote

[“No, no,” Jason said. “I made my choice. You’re not to blame. You don’t owe me anything except to remember what I said. Remember what’s important.” “You’re important,” I said. “Your life!”Jason tilted his head. “I mean… sure. But if a hero isn’t ready to lose everything for a greater cause, is that person really a hero?”He weighted the word person subtly, as if to stress it could mean a human, a faun, a dryad, a griffin, a pandos… even a god”- Tower of Nero]

which was normal, since he had everyone basically following his lead without question as a kid. he's expanded on this in his conversation with piper in mark of athena, where he said he felt weird to suddenly be around people who were either equal/or superior to him in power, and not being in the ‘lead’ particularly.

jason had hubris, but certainly not in a way that you would call it an ego or excessive pride. he was hardwired and brainwashed into having his own perception of what is right and what is wrong, that he thought he was always making good enough decisions, at least from a roman child soldier’s standpoint. [Like when he was okay with not saving nico because it might sabotage their mission, he genuinely didn't think what he said was insensitive until hazel called him out, because he was brought up that way. he thought he was doing the right thing, by prioritising the mission and the duty, first. Like the dutiful roman he was made to be].

both annabeth and jason, have hubris and a temptation to deliberate.

annabeth and jason, also had an extremely difficult time breaking free from the thoughts that their godly parents were always right. It took on alot of disappointments for both of them to stand up to their parents (and not just godly ones, mind you)

they've both had disappointing absent mortal and godly parents with a hostile stepmother involved and monitored with each and every one of their moves. annabeth has had to deal with her stepmother playing the ‘bad cop’ with her father not even coming to her defence, just the way hera came butting into jason's life and giving him terrible memories, taking him away from thalia, with zeus not even caring.

speaking of which, they are both the only demigods who have harboured the most amount of resentment for hera. just the sight of hera pisses them both off, as it hera, stripped off so much time away from annabeth and percy, and memories from jason, which he never permanently got back.

this is sort of irrelevant but I'll add this anyway, in boo, athena also immediately liked jason for calling out zeus's unfairness to apollo, saying something like 'the boy is right' and she gave him an approving/appreciative look for his wisdom, which is pretty rare for athena to say or do to literally any demigod ever. this makes me wonder if she ever saw jason as someone who had some sort of athena legacy in him, which is why she was so pleasantly surprised with him. ugh we could've so gotten jason and annabeth as potential sibling figures bc of how many parallels they have, too bad that the percy/jason rivalry narrative was pushed too hard.

I hope I've drawn enough parallels with their characters, as a lot of you have been looking forward to this post for a while, hopefully this analysis hasnt been underwhelming for you all to read!

@thevoidcaller @karmaajr @onestorytorulethemall @newlyfoundwren @thesummerstorms

[wilwheaton]

This is from Star Trek Wholesome Posting on Facebook.

And because it's a FAQ, here's the story of The Infamous Clown Sweater, as I told someone who asked there:

"I did this fundraiser for EFF in San Francisco in ... 2001? 2002? Something like that. It was at DNA Lounge, and after we were done, this person came up to me with this horrific sweater (jumper, for you non-Americans). They told me it was part of The Infamous Clown Sweater Project. What's that, I asked. They told me they are getting as many people as possible to wear it and pose for a photo, which they would then upload to their webpage -- not website, webpage, because it was 2001 or so -- for all to see.

"Of *course* I was down for it, and that face I'm making in the first photo is my very real reaction to the _awful_ stank that was just infused in the acrylic fibers.

"The second picture is from a con about ... 2014? Something like that, based on how I look. Someone actually made their own version of that horrible sweater for me. One arm is too long, on purpose, the neck is all stretched out, on purpose, and it fits poorly, on purpose. It's so damn funny to me, and it came along at a moment when we were doing this "then and now" thing on Twitter (before the fascists took over).

"I still have the second sweater. I have no idea what happened to the original. Last time I checked, the website that hosted all those pictures -- so old it was manually coded in html, predating even Flickr -- was lost to the sands of time.

"But it never fails to make me smile when this picture comes back around. It reminds me of a specific time, when there was just so much hope for the online future we were all building."

And for those of you who are too young to know what Riker giving Wesley his "fondest wish" is, well ...

Wesley wanted to grow up to be a blue-eyed blond who I'm pretty sure the costume designer wanted to fuck?

GEORDI! You're not helping!

Look. I love you, Commander Riker, but ... you're gonna want to try again. Wesley's fondest wish rhymes with "marathon betazoid orgy on risa".

[humblefryingpan]

The "Amy likes spiders" poem in doki doki literature club (Natsuki's second poem) just makes me think of being closeted with internalized homophobia and I think it works really well for her

There's the poem if you haven't seen it!

(This is just me analyzing the poem and it's probably my longest post yet. I've been overanalyzing all the poems but this is the only one I've typed out atm lol)

It specifically makes me think of four things - Yuri liking different things and her disliking her for it, Natsuki being so far in the closet that she'll take any excuse to avoid the pretty girl™, Natsuki's self projection onto "Amy" and most importantly internalized homophobia, like I said earlier

It generally makes me think natsuri but I'll get to that later. So if we go from the internalized homophobia + closeted perspective (more like raised homophobic and doesn't know she's gay but ykwim), it reads as "a girl I know is a lesbian and Im meant to hate her for it. She's pretty and she makes me feel things but I can't be friends with her because she's a lesbian"

'The narrator' (Natsuki) heard a rumor that a girl, "Amy" (the lesbian), apparently likes 'spiders' (girls) and is repulsed. And that's why she isn't friends with her.

"Amy" sings the narrator's favorite love song, her voice is cute and it's making her heart pound. But she still likes 'spiders', so she can't be her friend.

She hurts her leg and "Amy" helped her get to the nurse. She tried to avoid touching her because her hands might be gross due to touching 'spiders', so she still can't be her friend.

"Amy" is very popular, but "she probably talks about spiders" (being gay). "What if her friends start to like spiders too?" (This entire verse rlly speaks for itself)

The next verse is shortest and even more repetitive than the rest of the poem (to emphasize her point) "it doesn't matter if she has other hobbies, it doesn't matter is she keeps it private, it doesn't matter if it doesn't hurt anyone" because to the narrator - she can't be "Amy's" friend, no matter how bad she wants to, because she's always going to be a 'spider lover' (lesbian) and she won't be able to ignore that.

And then the final nail to seal shut the door to the closet - "it's gross, she's gross, the world is better off without spider lovers. And I'm gonna tell everyone" because she needs everyone to know she hates 'spider lovers' to make sure no one knows she is also one. It's so gross because she was taught it was and now she can't stop thinking it's gross, no matter how nice/pretty/kind "Amy" is.

Onto the natsuri part so if you don't like that ship feel free to skip the rest of this (if you're still here lol)

Yuri and Natsuki like such different things (creepy and complex vs cute and simple) and they reach the point where they've argued so much that Natsuki doesn't want to admit she doesn't dislike Yuri. Even if she likes her poems, she'd never tell her because she feels like she can't at this point.

Natsuki couldn't see past their differences for a while, when she finally does, she's too embarrassed to apologize and too uncomfortable to befriend her without apologizing.

Nearly every verse of the poem will talk about how great the girl is. How she has a cute voice, she helped her, she has lots of friends, she makes her heart pound. But every verse she will still come back to "but she likes spiders. That's why I'm not friends with her". It feels like her gradually warming up to Yuri but still reminding herself that she can't be her friend, they're too different, Yuri likes creepy things (Yuri probably does like spiders so that's a bit more literal but it's also that spiders seem to symbolise everything she likes that Natsuki doesn't) and she couldn't be friends with someone so different.

And lastly, Natsuki's self projection (this is what the meaning is said to be in-game), meaning "Amy" is Natsuki herself. Natsuki likes manga and her friends won't believe it counts as literature. Her manga is the spider in this interpretation, she doesn't want people to judge her based on what she likes. She's had to be so defensive about what she likes, she may even judge herself for liking it at this point. She doesn't want people to judge people by their interests.

I keep seeing people say that Amy is a real person but that's one of the only interpretations that makes no sense to me. Because Natsuki may be a bit judgemental but even she wouldn't make an entire poem about disliking her classmate's love of spiders. She said herself that anyone that agrees with the narrator in the poem is a bad person. It's far more likely that "Amy" is a made up idea, she's barely even shown as a person. She's seemingly meant to be symbolic of Natsuki's flaws and insecurities, whatever you perceive those insecurities to be.

Portraying Amy as an actual person kinda cheapens the poem, at least in my opinion, because she was talking about how people should be given a chance no matter what (or who) they like and if Amy was a person it wouldn't make sense

[magniloquent-raven]

I'm getting distracted from my current projects by someone else's post again someone tell me to stop going on tumblr while I have WIPs lmfao

@rosetterer this isn't EXACTLY what you posted about but it does get there in the end

**

Twenty-four hours has never seemed like such an insurmountably long time.

Buck's had long shifts before, the boring ones when he'd stare at the alarms on the wall, willing them to go off—he can picture Maddie's disappointed scowl if she ever found out about that, but he swears he was only hoping for something small and harmless to break up the monotony—and the busy ones. Ones that leave his ears ringing with phantom sirens by the end. Those days only ever seem long in retrospect, when he's bone-tired and trying to remember all the names he asked for.

But now every shift seems to find new and shittier ways to be gruelling. Eddie's miserable and trying to act like he isn't. There's this weird, uncomfortable tension brewing between Hen and Chim. Ravi got himself transferred to B shift—probably to get away from Gerrard, and Buck can't exactly blame him, but he sort of does anyway and their new probie is terrible, and... then there's Gerrard.

Like, Buck already knew he was a piece of work, but. Knowing and experiencing are two very different things. He could barely stand keeping his mouth shut at the medal ceremony when he met the man for five seconds, and now he has to put up with him making smug, belittling comments towards all his friends, all the time. Constantly needing to remind himself he doesn't want to get fired is actually killing him.

It doesn't help that every so often he'll remember Tommy's offhand Captain Gerrard was like having the dad I already had, with a pang as he wonders what exactly Tommy grew up with. What parts of Gerrard's condescending tyranny were familiar to him. Phillip Buckley may not have been father of the year, but maybe never being looked directly at was better than being raised neck deep in toxic waste.

Every time he remembers he gets the urge to pull out his phone and call Tommy up just to... he doesn't even know. Just to hear his voice, maybe. Know if he's doing okay.

Another reason work days seem so long now, if he's being honest. He's always counting down the hours until he can see Tommy again. Like a kid on the last day of school, watching the clock tick closer and closer to summer vacation.

So, of course, right near the end of a particularly busy shift, Gerrard gets them all lined up for a lecture about how sloppy that last save was. Everyone did something wrong, and everyone needs to hear about all the ways they could have gotten someone killed, like they don't all know how risky the job is already.

By the time he's finished telling Chim it's a miracle he managed to convince anyone to let him out on calls, Buck is clenching his jaw hard enough to make his teeth ache.

"I'm sure Captain Soft-Touch loved telling you all it was okay to be mediocre, and that you were trying your best," Gerrard sneers at them all, waving a dismissive hand at very idea of Bobby's captaincy. "But the coddling ended when he retired. Sparing your feelings is going to get people killed. Diaz!" He shouts, abrupt, turning on his heel towards Eddie. Eddie doesn't flinch, but Buck does.

"Yes, sir?" He's coolly polite, and his face is carefully blank, but his posture is tense.

"If I ever catch you checking your phone at a scene again, I'll make sure you're mopping floors for the rest of your life."

Eddie's expression hardens. It was a fender-bender and Eddie didn't even touch his phone until everyone was accounted for and packed into the ambulance. "It was a text from my son. Sir." His tone veers a little to the left of polite.

"I don't care if it was from the goddamn Pope, when you're in the field your focus stays on scene. Next time your brat needs something tell him to go cry to his mother about it."

This time when Buck flinches, everyone else in line does too. Hen bites down on a grimace. Chim hisses quietly through his teeth.

"I can't do that," Eddie says flatly. "What with her being dead and all."

The firehouse is silent for a long, horrible moment. That might've taken the wind out of any decent person's sails, Buck thinks. At the very least most people would've retreated into awkwardness and ended the lecture entirely.

Gerrard's brow pinches angrily. "Don't get smart with me, Diaz."

Buck's not sure it's possible to hate someone more than he hates their new captain right now.

"I don't care about your little sob story excuses, I care that you're sloppy and distracted. If you can't handle the job and the kid, drop one of them."

Oh, he was wrong.

He hates this man so much he's choking on it, it's clogging his throat like bile and he's running out of strength to care that he shouldn't spit it out, spew it everywhere and ruin everything just for the chance of hurting this man in the process. He feels like his skin is bursting at the seams.

Eddie's biting the inside of his cheek, rage and sorrow warring silently on his face.

And Buck breaks. Bursts. "Hey, Captain, that's—"

"Can it, Buckley," Gerrard cuts him off before he can even start. It's not angry, it's not anything, he brushes Buck off like he's an annoying fly buzzing in his ear, barely worth glancing at for the two seconds it takes to tell him he doesn't care. "You're all dismissed. Get out of my sight."

Some of them flee, scurrying to their lockers, the kitchen, anywhere but here. A couple of people throw backwards glances before they walk away. Hen and Chim exchange grim looks. Eddie disappears out the back door in an angry haze. And Buck...

Buck feels. Empty. Small. Like he cut himself open trying to relieve the pressure and now there's just nothing left. No one to patch up the wound, and no reason for any of it, he didn't make an impact, he didn't help anyone, he stood there listening to his friends get degraded, and now—now he's feeling sorry for himself?

It's stupid. He's stupid. He feels like shit because, what, because he didn't get yelled at? Because his piece of shit captain took a break from implying he's a disgusting pervert?

He thinks himself in circles about it his whole way home, the pit in his stomach getting a little deeper every time he tries to will it away.

He's wallowed himself halfway through a six-pack, staring sightlessly at his TV, by the time his front door opens.

"Evan?"

One of the knots in his chest loosens. "Yeah," he calls out, not bothering to sound less pathetic than he is. "In here."

"Hey." Tommy's stopped next to the stairs, eyeing him. His gaze is assessing, but his tone is soft. He's always so careful with Buck. "Bad day?"

Buck takes another sip of his beer. Shrugs.

"Ah, one of those."

The couch cushions dip as Tommy takes a seat next to him. He's close enough that Buck doesn't have to look at him to know he's there. There's warmth radiating off him. The woodsy scent of his aftershave. Buck presses their knees together, and exhales properly for the first time in hours.

He knows he could talk about whatever he wants and Tommy would let him. He's waiting for Buck to take the lead here. Buck could avoid the issue entirely and decide to talk about anything. The fact that he can't really tell the difference between the fancy beer Tommy insists is better than the crap Buck's drinking right now. The documentary about bees he's pretending to watch. The goddamn weather.

What comes out of his mouth is a quiet, "I feel like an idiot."

Tommy pulls the beer bottle out of Buck's loose grip, puts it down next to the couch, and then takes Buck's hand in both of his. "Why?"

Buck scrubs at his eyes. "I..." He catalogues the tiny scars on Tommy's knuckles. Two, three, little dots on his index finger. A lopsided vee on his thumb. "Something happened at work."

"Did Gerrard say something to you?" There's an edge to Tommy's question, something sharp and flinty. It makes Buck's heart do dumb little somersaults.

"No." He stops, shame burning his cheeks. "Not. Not to me. That's... He was lecturing everybody, and I..."

"Evan." Tommy grips his chin, firmly, gently, guiding Buck's face until he looks him in the eye. There's a sympathetic twist to his mouth. "Tell me."

He does. As best he can when it feels like what's didn't happen is more important, and he can barely put into words why that is. But trying helps, a little. Trying to whittle it down into an explanation forces him to look at the whole of it, and realize it's not looming over him anymore.

Maybe it's just Tommy's hands on him, soothing the hurt away.

"I dunno. Feels like I could have done something differently, maybe"

Tommy hums, tilting his head in acknowledgement. "You could've."

Buck winces.

"But it wouldn't have turned out any better."

Oh.

A flower blooms on the TV, purple and white petals reaching for the sun. Buck toys with Tommy's fingers, and shifts his leg closer, hooking their ankles together.

"It felt so shitty," he mutters.

"I know."

He would, wouldn't he. Buck gets that pang in his chest again, and he pushes the rest of the way into Tommy's space. Tommy wraps his arms around him, and drops a kiss into his curls, seemingly content to let Buck situate himself however he wants.

He kind of wishes Tommy wasn't still wearing jeans, but asking him to take his pants off might send the wrong message.

"You don't think I'm, like...a bad friend, right?" He cringes his way through the question.

"No." Tommy responds matter-of-factly and without hesitation. Then the corner of his mouth twitches. "I think you're a very good boy."

Buck's entire head feels like it's on fire. A grin starts to creep across his face. It might be the first time he's smiled all day. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm."

Maybe he should ask Tommy to take his jeans off after all.

[shhtickerbook]

Baby Feathers

Merry Christmas!

(Helluva Age regression ficlet that takes place post sinsmas)

I don’t see enough fics that have caregivers who want to try regressing!!! So I decided to fill that void and the soul destroying events of sinsmas gave me lots of agere fodder. have a lovely holiday everybody!!! Fic below!

Stolas had everything planned. It was new years Eve and both Stolas and Blitzø had the holiday just to themselves. Millie and Moxxie were spending the holiday with Millie’s family in Wrath, whilst Loona was going to another party at Beelzebub’s. Stolas had spent many a New Year’s Eve at insufferable galas, but there had always been one silver lining. Both himself and Via would slip away from the ball, where the two would sit on the roof of their mansion and watch the first new year’s moon come to rise. He still hadn’t realised that this would be the first year where they wouldn’t be able to share their tradition. He couldn’t stop thinking of Octavia, their last interaction cruelly playing on loop in his mind. His heart was breaking with every second, but at least he had Blitzø. If he hadn’t been grieving so painfully, maybe he’d be able to enjoy himself.

There was one aspect he found great comfort in though, and that was being able to take care of Blitzø. Over the past few months he’d been introduced to the Imp’s smaller side, which had taken a while for Blitzø to open up about it properly. He was a pretty headstrong character, and struggled s lot when it came to expressing any kind of vulnerability.

Stolas had actually found out by accident, with Blitzø regressing involuntarily after a bad night terror. Stolas’s heart had broke when he found his partner looking so afraid and vulnerable. Blitzø wasn’t able to really explain what was happening, but Stolas was already a parent, it was second nature to know how to comfort little ones after a bad dream. The next morning Blitzø had explained what happened, sometimes he found himself slipping younger in age, usually when he was stressed or was reminded of bad things. Especially since he lost his mother, she was the only person who treat him with gentle nurturing care. When he lost her, he never got to feel that again. So when he began to have these episodes, it became a part of himself he had to hide out of shame.

For a long time he continued to suppress this side of himself, pushing away all these childish longings. But he could only hold it back for so long until his body decided for him. When he did find out, Stolas was almost too supportive of it, finding this side of Blitzø absolutely darling. Lavishing him with toys, clothes and all kinds of things he never even considered trying. Stolas even found himself getting a lot out of caring for him too, it made him feel needed.

-

Blitzø had to admit that it felt great to not hide this side of him anymore. Stolas had officially seen every episode of that pony show, and helped Blitzø brush the manes of every single horse figurine he owned. But ever since the trial, neither Blitzø or Stolas had the time or the mental energy to take come time to relax.

Stolas had felt so guilty that in his current state he hadn’t been able to care for Blitzø, and had even collected a set of gifts for him to open from Sinsmas. On the day itself he’d set aside his little gifts so that he wouldn’t have to open them in front of the others. So he’d made the decision to surprise him with a “little sinsmas” on new years, when they knew they’d have the house all to themselves.

Stolas woke up early to get out the gifts he had stored away. Thankfully he had purchased these before he’d lost all of his money and possessions. But when he did get up, he felt awful. The former prince had slept terribly, tossing and turning as he once again replayed what had happened with Via. He was then cursed with unpleasant dreams that only tortured him further. All he wanted was his daughter, but she wanted nothing to do with him.

Regardless of how he felt, he pushed himself through it, today was for Blitzø. The imp had done so much for him recently, he had to pay it back somehow. He quietly looked through Blitzø’s wardrobe in search of some of his little clothes, choosing an oversized hoodie with some colourful horse motifs. It even had an adorable woollen mane that went down the hood. Last of all he collected a plastic box at the bottom of the wardrobe, stolas recognising it. Inside Blitzø kept all of his baby things, pacifiers, some teethers and other equally adorable equipment. It was adorned with multiple stickers, all in the horse variety.

As he entered back into the main room, stolas began to gather some ingredients for breakfast. The plan was to make Blitzø some oatmeal for breakfast, which was simple enough. Blitzø always liked it drizzled with cherry syrup, and if he was feeling little enough he’d even let Stolas feed him.

Stolas carefully arranged the gifts wrapped in coloured paper by the tree, flicking on the fairy lights for added effect. He loved the small touches of sinsmas, indulging in the little details that made it feel magic. Blitzø had mentioned how sinsmas wasn’t really a special thing when he was a kid, the circus would perform through the whole holiday. Which included an extra special sinsmas day show which was very popular, but it meant he never got to really enjoy the holiday.

He thought of a little blitz crouched by the tree, tearing open coloured parcels in glee. You couldn’t help but smile. As a final touch, he pulled the blinds open to let the light in. Such a simple action turned into a huge mistake. As Stolas glanced outside, his gaze was caught to the horizon. Peeking just through the clouds was the new moon, only barely visible. By tonight it would be hanging at the peak of the sky, even in daylight it was beautiful.

How could something so beautiful destroy him so painfully? Stolas remembered everything, his special tradition with his daughter. He thought of Octavia, sitting alone and watching the moon rise. The way she spat her words towards her father, looking like she genuinely despised him. Who was he kidding? It didn’t look like he hated him, she did hate him. Stolas just sank to the floor, his beak quivering as he felt tears building in his eyes. It was all too much. All he wanted was to hold his daughter in his arms again, but would that ever happen again?

she hated him.

she HATED him.

-

Blitzø turned over in bed, dozily reaching over into the empty space of his bed. He’d gotten so used to sleeping next to somebody again, so when he didn’t feel any feathers in his grasp, it pulled him out from his snoozing.

“Mmme- Stolas?”

He mumbled, eyes fluttering open. As suspected, Stolas wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Pushing himself up onto his elbow before rubbing his eyes, recently Stolas had been the one who stayed in bed. Blitzø would usually let him sleep in for as long as he needed, sometimes leaving a note if he had to leave for work.

With a yawn Blitzø pulled himself up, before hearing something from outside the room. It took him a second to realise in his sleep addled state, but he could clearly hear a sadly familiar sound of crying. Within a second he’d jumped from the bed and thrown open the door.

“Stolas? are you okay?”

In hindsight it was a pretty stupid question, especially when he found said bird on the floor of his sitting room. He was curled in on himself, sobbing bitterly. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of what he’d been like when Octavia had rejected him.

“Hey hey- what’s going on?”

Blitzø joined him on the floor, resting a hand over Stolas’s shaking back. Stolas flinched at the touch at first, but couldn’t help but fall into Blitzø’s hold. Blitzø could feel Stolas’s feathers quivering as he tried to control his sobbing. The Imp couldn’t help but notice that a lot of his little stuff was scattered across the room.

His box of pacifiers and that one hoodie he liked to wear, there were also some new gifts under the tree.

“I had planned to- I’m sorry, i just wanted to make today special for you.”

Stolas whimpered, feeling like he’d ruined everything. He thought he would feel better today, if he got to care for Blitzø. But right now owl felt as fragile as glass, but Blitzø held onto him tight and securely. It clicked as he realised what Stolas had been trying to do, his expression softening.

“Oh stolas, it’s okay.”

“It’s not! All I’ve done is mope around and you’ve had to do everything for me. Not to mention the money you’ve spent and the time I’ve taken up. I had it all planned, you deserved a break-“

It took him a little time to string together his response, tears continuing to dribble down his feathers. He felt pathetic, how was he going to care for a regressed Blitzø when he was this much of a mess? It furthered his suspicion that was just a complete failure when it came to any kind of caregiving.

“Stolas listen to me, it’s okay. It’s.. really sweet you thought of this.”

Blitzø gently tilted his beak to meet his face, the tearstained bird’s expression tugging something on his heartstrings. He looked around, spotting the half made breakfast and carefully arranged presents. All the effort he’d made, for him no less.

“I don’t deserve you.”

He chuckled, managing to pull the lanky heap of owl closer into his lap the best he could. His statement seemed to reactivate Stolas tears though, who cried intelligibly into his chest. It was the other way around, it was Stolas that didn’t deserve him.

Whilst Blitzø still wasn’t entirely sure on what had triggered this, it didn’t take an idiot to know it was related to Octavia. In the time Blitzø had known Stolas, he’d never seen him like this. The Goetian Prince was so broken, fragile. But thankfully Blitzø had some experience in that feeling already.

He let him cry it out for a few minutes, with the shoulder of his shirt becoming very wet. He ran his fingers up and down Stolas’s feathers, gently preening him as he murmured comfort. The sobs eventually died down into sad sniffling, but the grip around him still hadn’t broken. Although Stolas’s heart was breaking, Blitzø’s grip around him was at least keeping said shards in place.

As Blitzø rubbed his back, he was hit with a sudden idea. He felt a little guilty that Stolas had gone through all this trouble for him, especially as he wasn’t feeling anywhere near small. And as much as he cared for Stolas, he couldn’t fake his regression either. Anyways, he didn’t feel like he was the one need in comfort right now.

“Hey, here’s an idea. I know we’ve never talked about this before, but what if you let me take care of you today?”

Stolas stirred a little with a frown, peeling his crispy feathered face away from Blitzø’s chest.

“What do you mean?”

“You take care of me when I’m feeling low, why not let me baby you for once? You’re lookin’ like you need it.”

The more Blitzø thought about it, the more he wanted to give it a try. There was something about the forlorn bird in his arms that melted his heart a little. Was this how Stolas felt with him? Nah, he couldn’t he this cute.

“No, you’re my baby. I care for you, I care for people- it’s what I like to do.”

Stolas suddenly felt flustered, face lighting up bright red. He’d never even considered the idea of swapping roles before. Blitzø was his baby, never the other way around. He wasn’t sure if it felt right to him, he wanted to be the one caring for Blitzø.

“Yeah, and you do a great fuckin job at it. So why not let me return the favour, you might even like it?”

Blitzø teased as he gently pinched the owls red cheeks, already delighting in the idea. Stolas found himself wavering a little, especially with how shivery and weak he was. He looked over at the gifts guiltily, but Blitzø already had it covered.

“Look we could try it today, if you don’t like it, we’ll stop. We can save the gifts for tomorrow, and then you can have your turn babying me, sound okay?”

Blitzø sounded so sure that Stolas found it hard to disagree. Although it still felt very alien, he definitely appreciated this cuddling part right now. So in the end gave a defeated shrug, Blitzø’s face lighting up.

“You just relax and let me take care of everything, feathers.”

Stolas shook for a second, before burying his beak into Blitzø’s shoulder again. Fresh tears erupted seemingly for no specific reason. But this time there was a sense of catharsis that came with it, to be able to cry in safety. Was this how Blitzø felt when Stolas would comfort him whilst small? He hoped so, as it felt pretty damn good.

Blitzø began to rock him back and forth, kissing the crown of his feathers. He gave him a few more minutes to cry, Stolas had been forcing himself into long periods of numbness recently and clearly needed it. Eventually Blitzø shifted Stolas to the side a little, who whined at the movement.

“Lemme just move ya onto the couch, I can’t feel my fuckin’ legs anymore.”

With quite a bit of effort, Blitzø managed to lift the bird onto the couch. Unfolding the blanket over the armrest and tucking it around his skinny frame. Whilst no longer sobbing, Stolas had been reduced to the awkward hiccupy stage. Blitzø told ahold of his hand, squeezing softly to get his attention.

“Hey try and breathe a little, in and out.”

The imp demonstrated, and Stolas tried his hardest to follow. But he found himself falling back into the unhelpful gulping, even with Blitzø’s help.

“Here’s an idea.”

Blitzø turned and rifled through his little box, finding an unopened package. Blitzø himself still hadn’t used these ones as he didn’t like the colours. Stolas turned to see what Blitzø was doing, with his pupils pin-pricking when he spotted it. In his hands was a package of pacifiers, a pack of three different shades of lilac to dark blue.

“You’re doing a shitty job at breathing right now, try one of these. You’ll have no choice but to breathe a little slower.”

He spoke so casually, holding out a dark blue pacifier. Stolas had seen this kind of item many, many times now. But now when it was being presented to him, rather from him? It felt a little scary. Blitzø watched as stolas internally fought with himself, rolling his eyes.

“Cmon, open that beak for me, feathers.”

He used the pet name for the second time, which made Stolas melt a little. As if beyond his control he held his beak open, Blitzø placing the pacifier there before he could change his mind.

The sensation was certainly strange at first, the bird wasn’t really sure what to do with it. But his body was still hellbent on breathing hard, so he focused on trying to breathe nasally instead. Without realising he began to suck on the bulb, and breathed in and out. If it hadn’t been such sad circumstances, Blitzø would’ve definitely taken a photo. It was just too fucking cute. Instead he joined Stolas on the couch, still demonstrating his breathing in time to Stolas’s.

“Feels good doesn’t it?”

Stolas looked up at him lazily, his was face a little red self consciously. But he couldn’t lie, the rhythmic sensation of the pacifier was incredibly soothing. With each minute he understood just why Blitzø liked them so much. There was a cloudy fuzzy sensation in his head, one that forced him away from all the sad and scary feelings. It was a blissful escape, but it wasn’t numbing him the way his pills used to.

So he nodded at his partner, squeezing his hand back tight. They spent the next twenty minutes just cuddling, and Stolas honestly felt the calmest he had in months. Blitzø eventually had to pry the owl off of him to sort out breakfast, turned on the TV for Stolas. He considered what to put on, before setting on an incredibly corny fairytale movie about a princess. But it was worth it to see the way Stolas’s eyes lit up when it came on.

Blitzø made himself a cup of coffee, and poured one of Stolas’s weird fancy teas into one of his own sippy cups. Choosing the moonlight unicorn design, after forcing stolas to watch every episode of his horse show, Stolas had eventually chosen his favourite character. When he returned to the couch, Stolas shuffled over to curl into his chest again. The pacifier still hasn’t left his beak since placing it there, he looked undeniably adorable. Blitzø was just so happy to see him looking content for the first time in days. The two could just spend their day with each-other’s company, enjoying every moment.

-

Neither demon even made it to the end of the movie, the two of them passed out in a tangle of limbs. The bird with his head curled underneath Blitzø’s chin, the imp’s hand subconsciously still stroking his feathers. Blitzø had gotten so used to himself being the baby in their relationship, that he’d never considered how much he’d enjoy swapping places. The remainder of their day continued in a similar fashion, Blitzø leading Stolas along in hand. And to his surprise Stolas was a very quiet little, who didn’t speak much for the rest of the day.

It was different than when he was quiet when he was sad though, Stolas would still giggle if Blitzø said something funny and was clearly enjoying himself. Stolas just felt happy that he didn’t have to try and think of words right now, he could just be. He allowed Blitzø to dress him in some loose cuddly clothes, and even hand feed him little squares of pancake when he felt up to eating.

Blitzø loved learning more about this little side of him. And Stolas found himself embracing a part of himself he’d never even uncovered. They spent the day indoors, playing games and watching movies. In the evening when Blitzø was busy running a bath for him, Stolas couldn’t help but glance outside. The moon was beginning to rise in the early evening, himself and Blitzø agreed to head to bed before midnight. The whole new year’s celebration never interested him too much, he really only ever used it as an excuse to get wasted.

Stolas pulled the pacifier from his beak and dropped it to the floor. Feeling the fog of his small space drift away, he took in a deep breath. Slipping outside onto the balcony, he dared himself to look up at the moon. Giving anything just for one more moment with Octavia, wondering what she was doing right now.

“I know you hate me, and that you can’t even hear me- But I love you so very much.”

He spoke to himself quietly, not breaking eye contact with the rising moon. Hoping that just maybe Octavia could somehow get the message. He stayed there for a little while, not even realising the slow tears dripping down his face until he felt a hand on his. Blitzø didn’t say anything, he stood aside the Owl for a while until he stirred from his trance.

“I got your bath ready, even added a bunch of those bath nukes you like.”

“Bath bombs- you mean.”

Stolas couldn’t help but correct, although he still sounded sad. Blitzø held onto his hand and lead him back inside, finding the pacifier abandoned on the floor.

“Hey you still want this buddy?”

He held it up, unsure if Stolas was feeling completely big again. The owl looked at the object, clearly considering it. He watched the Imp as he stared up at him with genuine adoration. Instead of a verbal response, he just took the pacifier back and allowed himself to sink back into that comforting headspace. The Goetian prince stood tall above Blitzø, and to any old person they must’ve looked ridiculous. But Blitzø looked up at the tall owl and only saw a little baby bird, one that was in desperate need of some love and care.

“Cmon then baby feathers, I have a whole collection of rubber duck horses just waiting to play with ya-“

Merry Christmas y’all ❤️❤️❤️

[scara-meow-che]

then they were roommates ┃ sweet deception with thoma

CW. NSFW (MDNI), afab! reader with no set of pronouns, roommate! thoma, use of sedatives, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it!), pervert! thoma, noncon, he takes pics of you, male masturbation, pervert and a bit ooc thoma ♥︎

AN. another reposted work. i promise that i'd be posting new ones soon <3 just a little more from my part on actually editing the drafts that i have here but anyway, enjoy our ooc pervert, roomie thoma!

thoma is the sweetest roommate you’d ever ask for!

besides the fact that he constantly reminds you of the tasks you have absentmindedly forgotten or prepares breakfast in the morning, he also helps you with your projects whenever he has some time to spare.

you also want to take note of the tea he always makes!

“hey thoma! you haven’t told me what brand this tea is.”

the weekend had just arrived and you were left sprawled in the comforts of your blankets while watching another rom-com with thoma. he was laid adjacent to your side, the two loveseats occupied by your tired bodies.

“silly, how many times do i need to tell you that i handmade this! you can help me pick up the ingredients tomorrow morning if you want,” thoma offers with a smile. he can see how you immediately perked up in interest, nodding your head in agreement. “well, just make sure that you sleep early now since i often leave around 5.”

and he hears you grunt afterward.

“come on now, you wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this, yeah?” he encourages you, standing up from his seat. he eyes you, taking a huge sip of your tea before dropping down the cup on the nearby table. he shudders, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips before he reaches out both his hands to help you stand up.

as you do, you can feel your body slipping into a relaxed state, almost stumbling and falling back into the seat. but thoma was fast and had an arm wrapped around your body, gently cradling you in his warmth.

“easy now,” he mumbles. it felt quite nice to be wrapped in his embrace as the nature of his being caring seeps through while he guides you to your room. “getting sleepy now, aren’t you?”

you hummed, feeling the softness of your blanket caressing your skin as thoma gently lays you down on your bed. as each second passes by, you find your eyes can barely keep themselves open. and before you were consumed by sleep, you can hear the faint whisper from your roommate, a sweet smile etched on his face.

“sweet dreams f/n.”

it was truly sweet, thoma had always been like this every day and you barely notice the patterns. he is someone so kind, dependable, selfless, and caring so you trust him. there’s never a reason to doubt him, not when he had you gullible just as he wanted to.

don’t get him wrong but thoma genuinely cares for you. he likes you, a lot. but the intensity of his emotions quickly becomes too much for him to handle. you were so pretty, so perfect in his eyes that he can’t help but give you what he thinks you’d want, what you’d like, what you’d find worthy of your affection.

but he thinks that fucking you when you’re asleep is something you wouldn’t approve of.

when he sees the steady motion of your chest, lungs pumping air in and out of your relaxed and vulnerable state, he’s quick to adjust your body, letting you lie flat on your back and your legs pressed on each side. you’ve always looked beautiful to him, no matter what you wear, no matter how unkempt your hair was.

and he finds you most beautiful spread out like this for him to take. an angel you are in his eyes.

he groans when he feels his cock ache inside his tight pants. you’re just that perfect, fuck, he’s so damn lucky that he’s the one who gets to share this apartment space with you and not just a random bastard who wouldn’t treat you like he does.

he just hope you wouldn’t find out the debauched person he can be.

thoma wants to put all the blame on you. you should be held accountable for how adorable you are, and how your beaming eyes always had him hooked whenever you tell him what happened in uni. you should know that he’s utterly smitten from how much you cling to him, trusting him to the point where you don’t even notice that the tea he makes was the very reason why he had you pressed down like this.

of course, he wouldn’t dare hurt you. he’s not an asshole who just takes advantage of you like this and ends up hurting you in any way or form. thoma would spend the time preparing you, holding you, and pleasing you before he could even please himself.

as he had your legs spread open, he would gently remove your pants, revealing you in your underwear. he finds it cute how you wear this particular pair every weekend, the soft pastel red cotton undies he always love!

then he would notice how you’d shiver, feeling the cold gust of wind welcoming your flushed skin. thoma would cover you up with the blanket he made for you, smiling as he remembers how you were elated to receive this from him.

as he provides you a source of warmth, he would continue and leave kisses on your thighs, his large hands pressing down to spread your legs wider. he dares not leave any hickeys, as much as his mind tells him to mark you already. he can do that later when you’re finally sober enough to know what the hell he’s doing.

after leaving feather-like kisses on both your thighs, thoma would press two of his fingers between your clothed cunt, sliding up and down your slit. he can hear the gentle hums of satisfaction escaping your lips.

“even when you’re in deep sleep, you’ve always loved being pleasured like this, huh?” he whispers, putting in some pressure that the tip of his finger glides down your clit. “we wouldn’t want to mess this though,” he adds before he hooks two of his fingers to the band of your underwear and slowly pulls it off your body.

with your lower half exposed for his eyes to feast on, thoma almost came at the sight of your cunt slightly shimmering from your slick. he curses under his breath, impatient because he just wants to shove his cock but had put an immense focus so to mentally stops himself.

before he even loses control, he moves his head down and has his lips close in your cunt. he hums, satisfied, tasting you as his tongue laps up and down your clit. he can finally taste you, so sweet against the sensitive flesh of his mouth. you were addicting, thoma can’t help but give your pussy lips a kiss before he had his whole mouth sucking on your poor cunt.

he felt your thighs occassionally close back from the sensation, your eyebrows furrowing that your sleep-induced state tries to focus on the pleasurable feeling you’re receiving between your legs.

“you’re so damn cute,” thoma mutters before he goes back on assaulting your sensitive clit. he wants to hear you moan, to hear you whimper about how good he’s treating you, how good he was on eating you out, on pleasing you but that can wait.

after flicking his tongue on your sensitive nub, he had two fingers slowly pumping in and out of your hole. you were so wet, so ready for him to take but he wants to make you cum first. thoma goes back on sucking on your clit as his fingers smoothly go in and out of your hole, adjusting it to reach the most sensitive spot inside that he knew by heart. you were so warm, so tight around two of his digits.

the pleasure he gets from fucking you like this had him rutting his hips down the bed, cock itching to shove itself inside your warmth and have your tight walls snuggle it closer. his pants' already ruined from his pre. he groans as he does so, eyes peering up to witness how your back softly arched from the vibrations he had let go on your clit. thoma can feel how close you are, your warm walls sucking him in with fervor.

“that’s it f/n. go on, cum for me,” he says even if you won’t even hear him or know that it was him pleasuring you like this. your walls clamped on his fingers, your hole gushing out so much slick as thoma didn’t stop sliding his digits in and out to ride your high.

your body was still shaking a bit from the aftermath of your orgasm when thoma swiftly moved up and pulled his hard and aching cock out of his already-ruined pants. he hissed as the warmth of his hands made contact with his skin, quickly rubbing the bulbous head on your cunt to relieve himself from the pain.

“‘want you so badly, f/n, just let me—” slowly, he pushes himself inside your walls, grunting at the sudden tightness engulfing him. he eyes your body, those emerald hues watching every twitch of your eyebrow and how your chest lets go of a shaky breath as he finally pushes all the way in. “fuck, you feel so good around me.”

thoma’s head was spinning at the view he’s getting of you even more when he looks down to where you’re both connected. his long girth feels just perfect to be inside you, smoothly sliding in and out. hell, he wanted to roughly bend you in half and shove himself as deep as he could but you might wake up. he doesn’t want that but fuck, you’re making it so hard for him.

in seconds, he rocks his hips against your body, his thighs softly smacking against your butt as he slowly ruts himself in your core. thoma bites down on his lips, focusing on being gentle while getting the most out of your cunt. he closes his eyes, savoring how your walls sucks him in, tightening every time he bottoms out. he was so big yet he had managed to have you adjust to his size perfectly, molding you to have his cock alone.

he was close, the pleasure so intense on bis lower half he had somehow let go of his focus and started a rather quick pace in fucking you. he hears you whimpering, his mind thinking that you’re awake and was ushering him to go faster, that you’re close too, that you want him to make a mess out of you.

“anything for you, f/n. fuck, i’d do anything for you,” he utters with a moan, sweat glistening on his forehead, his balls slapping oh so loudly against your thighs covered with your slick. and he pulls out, groaning as his cold hands started to jerk on his sensitive cock before he lets out his thick cum just right outside your hole.

thoma could barely keep in his moans, shivering at how he coats your pussy lips with his load that you looked so damn messy but fuck, you’re just so beautiful in his eyes.

“i love you,” he whispers but gained back his focus in seconds when he hears you humming. his eyes darted back to your face only to see that you’re still fast asleep.

thoma sighs, shaking his head, and went back down to look at your cum-stained cunt. he could just jerk again at the sight but doesn’t want to wake you sooner than he’d think he might. but, before he puts your legs back down and it let relax, he pulls out his phone from his pocket and quickly took pictures of your body, more on how he ruined you below, angling it where he can see how he had claimed you to be his.

with this sweet smile on his face, he bends down and slowly left a kiss on your forehead.

“sweet dreams, angel. i hope that we can spend more time soon.”

⠀⠀scara-meow-che © 2023 ┃ do not copy, modify, or repost ANY of my content

[misfitwashere]

We the People will succeed

A note of reassurance on election eve. 

ROBERT REICH

NOV 4

Friends,

These are the most stressful and nerve-wracking days I can recall. I vacillate between optimism and fear, hope and dread. 

You? 

I don’t recall an election in which the two candidates represent such opposite poles of the American character. 

Harris is the rule of law; Trump, lawlessness. Harris, inclusion; Trump, exclusion. Harris, decency; Trump, loathsomeness. Harris, the American Dream; Trump, the American nightmare. 

Harris wants the best for the country; Trump wants the best only for himself. 

I don’t need to go on. You know all this. The question is why doesn’t everyone else? That almost half of America appears willing to vote for Trump is itself shocking. 

I write this short missive to you every day (sometimes more than once a day) because I want to fortify you. Not just with facts, analysis, and logic, but also with reminders of our shared morality. 

I want to reassure you about the common good. 

A large part of that common good consists of our concern for something larger than personal wealth, power, or advantage over others — in other words, the opposite of Trump. 

The common good is what we owe one another as members of the same society. These duties create a set of relationships that give us a civilized way of living together. 

But the common good has been under assault in two ways.

First, it’s been under assault by people with great wealth who have been using their wealth to corrupt our democracy and spew cynicism about the whole project of self-government. 

These people include Elon Musk, Rupert Murdoch, Peter Thiel, and Tim Mellon. 

Let me also add two powerful people whose cowardice has been reprehensible: Jeff Bezos, who won’t allow his Washington Post to endorse Kamala Harris because he’s afraid of angering Donald Trump. And Jamie Dimon, chair and CEO of JPMorgan Chase, America’s largest bank, who never misses an opportunity to comment on public issues but has gone silent when it comes to the dangers posed by Trump. 

Worse yet, hugely wealthy people like them have rigged the American political and economic system to their own benefit. They have siphoned off a significant part of the gains of the economy. 

The median wage for the bottom 90 percent of Americans has risen just 15 percent in real terms over the last forty years. Over the same years, the stock market has risen 5000 percent. In the 1960s, CEO pay was 20 times the typical worker’s pay. Today, it’s 320 times. 

Second, the common good has been under assault by people who have been exploiting Americans’ fears of others to build their political power. The “others” include immigrants, people of color, gay people, trans people, secularists, even women.

The perpetrators include Donald Trump, JD Vance, and much of the current Republican Party, which has become a cesspool of bigotry and lies. 

There’s an important relationship between these two threats to the common good. 

A major reason so many Americans are willing to follow Trump and blow up the system is they feel they have nothing to lose. 

For years they’ve worked hard and followed the rules but have gotten nowhere. They’ve become frustrated, anxious, and angry. Trump, Vance, and the Republican Party have tapped into these feelings and channeled them into hate of “them” — as if immigrants, people of color, gay and trans people, secularists, and women are responsible for what has happened to white working class men. 

Both threats to the common good are inviting brutality. They are undermining decency. They are corroding our shared morality.

In these ways, Trump and his sycophants and funders have elevated the dark side of the American psyche. They have normalized viciousness in America.

Since Trump came on the scene in 2015, hate crimes have soared. America has become even more polarized. Average Americans say and do things to people they disagree with that in a different time would have been unthinkable.

Defeating Trump and Vance tomorrow (or however long it takes for the election to be decided) is only the first step. 

The next step is to hold Trump accountable for his criminality. 

Third, we must contain the billionaires who are undermining American democracy. We must demand a tax on great wealth, more vigorous antitrust enforcement to break up monopolies, and true campaign finance reform.

Fourth, and hardest of all: We must ensure that Americans who have voted for Trump — whether out of anger, despair, bigotry, or delusion — are brought back into the realm of rationality and included in the nation’s future prosperity.

We must create means to achieve the American Dream that do not require a four-year college degree. We have to get big money out of our politics. Social media must filter out hateful disinformation.

The preamble to the Constitution of the United States opens with the phrase “We the people,” conveying a sense of shared interest and a desire “to promote the general welfare,” as the preamble goes on to say. 

Which brings me back to tomorrow’s election. 

I know you’re scared and stressed. So am I. Some of you may feel quite alone right now. You are not. 

All I can say to reassure you is that time and again, Americans have opted for the common good. 

We supported one another during the Great Depression. We were victorious over Hitler’s fascism and Soviet communism. We survived Joe McCarthy’s communist witch hunts, Richard Nixon’s crimes, Lyndon Johnson’s Vietnam War, the horrors of 9/11, and George W. Bush’s wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. So far, we have survived Donald Trump’s malignant narcissism. 

The common good in America is still alive. 

If we are true to our history and ideals, Kamala Harris will win, and we’ll get through the destruction Trump will again try to wreak on our democracy in the wake of his defeat, as we did before. And we will get on with the work of achieving broadly-shared prosperity and strengthening our democracy. 

We the people will succeed. 

[lottielovelace]

die prinzessin

(PLATONIC könig & sister!reader)

summary: So... turns out your mystery half-brother is a giant Austrian special forces operator. What now? (Catching up on two decades of sibling bonding, that's what)

originally posted on ao3 (wordcount: main version 3.1k)

Rating: T

Relationships: Platonic König & Reader, König/Horangi

Ao3 Tags: Brother-Sister Relationships / Sibling Bonding / Long Lost/Secret Relatives / reader is konig's half sister / Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (reader has scars implied to be from SH but it's ultimately left up to interpretation) / Deutsch | German / Author speaks German (as a second language) / Historical References / reading the prior installment is recommended but not required

this is a part of a series

Notes:

Possible triggers: - König teaches MC to shoot. No violence, but he gives her semi-detailed instructions on how to handle a sniper rifle. - MC talks about past mental health struggles, and König notices old scars of her. These are implied to be from SH, but I tried to leave it open-ended for anyone who doesn't want that in their reading. - König implied to have previously experienced homophobia.

Prior context: I recommend reading the previous installment in the series, but if you really don't wanna here are the truly crucial parts: Your name is Elisabeth "Elise" Linh Veidt, a medical student. You were kidnapped to serve as hostage for a half-brother (König) you've never met before, who ended up rescuing you. There's more, but it's not directly tied to this fic so I'll leave it unspoiled in case you do become interested in reading the first work in the series. I do not use Y/N. I sometimes do use "Elise" & other specific details (you'll see why it's unavoidable in this fic) but I try to—when possible—keep things vague so you can freely project onto her (ex: using "your hair" instead of "your dark hair").

About the German: I speak German as a second language. I like to assess my skill level as "I know what Genitive is, but I don't always remember to use it." As Hochdeutsch-speaking foreign civilian, my speech patterns/vocabulary are going to be pretty similar to Elise's but very different to König, a native Austrian and a hardened soldier. I tried translate as accurately as possible (lots of LEO usage), but besides maybe a "servus" or two, I made and will make no attempt to mimic the Austrian dialect because it's frankly a lost cause for me. That being said, if you are a native speaker and notice any grammatical/syntactical mistakes (or even any sentences where you go "he would not fucking say that" [ex: a term being super formal or old fashioned] please let me know!

About the legibility: This is the primary iteration of the fic. If the German really does make it impossible to read, here's a version devoid of foreign language, but if possible, I highly recommend reading this version for the fullest experience. This version is the most proofread edition and even if you don't speak the language there was linguistic nuances you can still pick up on. If there are any cultural references you don't get, I have an explanation post linked at the bottom. (also available here)

"Können wir jetzt sprechen?” [ Can we speak now? ]

“Fast,” [ Almost ], your brother answered as he continued to guide you through the complex’s winding halls. His refusal to answer questions until your surroundings were secure made the flight over to the KorTac base feel endless.

Finally he stopped at a door-lined hallway. Approaching the second on the left, he punched a combination into its keypad. It swung open, revealing a modest bedroom.

“Großes Bett” [ Big bed ], you noted. His cot was large, even for someone of his rank.

“Ich habe ein Verzicht erhalten” [ I got a waiver ], he lazily indicated at his height. You were once again reminded of your stark height difference.

You looked at him—or at least what you could see of him with the mask—again. Drawing from your bio classes, you knew you shared 25% of your DNA. Clearly none of it manifested in height. Your father had been tall, but even at his peak he was nowhere near as lofty as your brother.

“Deine Mutter muss riesig sein.” [ Your mother must be giant .]

“Sie war.” [ She was. ]

You mentally winced. Way to get off on the wrong foot.

“Meine Mutter ist auch verstorben. Früher dieses Jahres.” [ My mother also passed. Earlier this year. ]

“Entschuldigung.” [ My condolences ].

“Du weißt, dass unser Vater schon ein paar Jahren gestorben ist.” [ You know that our father died a few years ago. ]

You really hoped you weren’t the one to break the news to him.

“Ja, ich weiß. Wir haben einen Brief bekommen.” [ Yes, I know. We received a letter .]

“Gut.” [ Good .]

“Dein Name ist Elisabeth, ja?” [ Your name is Elisabeth, correct? ]

“Ja.” [ Yes. ]

You’re not surprised he knows. There’s gotta be a file on you somewhere packed with everything you’ve ever even sniffed at.

“Magst du deinen Namen?” [ Do you like your name? ]

“Wie bitte?” [ Pardon? ]

“Benutzen Sie Elisabeth oder etwas anderes?" [ Do you go by Elisabeth or something else? ]

“Elise. Und du musst nicht ‘Sie’ benutzen. Wir sind Blut.” [ Elise. And you don’t need to be so formal. We’re blood .] A beat passed. “Wie heißt du?” [ And you? What is your name? ]

“Jeder nennt mich König.” [ Everyone calls me König. ]

“König? Ist das nicht ein wenig dramatisch?” [ King? Isn’t that a bit dramatic? ]

“Wenn du so groß wie ich bin, gibt es keinen Raum für Subtilität. Auch mag ich Geburtsnamens nicht.” [ When you’re as big as me, there is no room for subtlety. Plus I’m not the biggest fan of my birth name. ]

“Darf ich fragen?” [ May I ask? ]

“Ludwig.”

“Ludwig? Wie der König? Der Verrückte?” [ Ludwig? Like the king? The mad one? ]

“Genau. Ich mag es nicht, aber möchte es noch würdigen.” [ Exactly. I don’t like it, but I do enjoy paying tribute to it in my own way.]

“Elisabeth und Ludwig. Unser Vater mochte die Wittelsbacher, ja?” [ Elisabeth and Ludwig. Our father had a fondness for the Wittelsbachers. ]

“Wenn ich der Märchenkönig bin und du die Sisi bist, bist du Kaiserin?” [ If I’m the Fairy Tale King, and you’re Sisi… wouldn’t that make you the Empress? ]

“Dann wäre ich dir überlegen.” [ I would outrank you then. ]

“Gefällt dir das als mögliches Rufzeichen?” [ Would you like that as a callsign? ]

“Was? Kaiserin? Muss ich wirklich einen?” [ What, Empress? Do I even need one? ]

“Ja. Es würde mir ein Stein vom Herzen fallen. Dein Name ist kostbar. Verrate es nicht. Zumindest nicht hier.” [ I think so. It would ease my mind. Your name is a precious thing, I don’t want you to give it away. At least not while you’re on base. ]

Your stomach twisted.

“Du hast mir gesagt, dass dieser Ort sicher sei.” [ I thought you said this place was safe. ]

“Ja voll. Aber jeder kann mithören und hacken.” [ It is. But anyone can tap into radio comms or steal files .]

“Was meinst du damit?” [ What are you implying? ]

“Es ist zusätzlicher Schutz. Bitte. Es könnte irgendetwas. Ich brauche nur, dass du eines hast.” [ It’s an extra barrier of protection. Please. You can pick whatever it is, I just want you to have one. ]

You thought about it for a moment.

“Ich möchte nicht ‘Kaiserin’ sein. Das ist zu viel Macht und Anstrengung. Die Kaiserkrone hat die echte Sisi erwürgen.” [ I don’t want to be ‘Empress’. That’s too much power and pressure. The imperial crown strangled the original Sisi, after all. ]

A smile bloomed on your face.

“Vielleicht zulasse ich ‘Prinzessin’.” [ I might be amenable to ‘Princess’ though. ]

“Prinzessin? Ich kann damit leben. Sinn für kurz?” [ Princess? I can work with that. Sinn (meaning sense/reason/mind) for short? ]

You nodded with deep gravitas, “Einer von uns muss die Intelligenz sein.” [ Someone needs to be the brains around here. ]

Something about the faux-seriousness in your tone made the two of you burst into uncontrollable laughter.

The moment is so beautiful, you almost don’t want to ruin it with the question you know you have to ask. Something ancient, the spirit of Orpheus or Pandora perhaps, urges you to look.

“Darf ich über der Maske fragen?” [ Can I ask about the mask? ]

He paused for a moment, hesitant. Then quietly he spoke:

“Ich kann es ausziehen. Du bist Familie.” [ I can take it off. For you. You’re family, after all. ]

There’s a reluctance in his voice that made your heart twinge.

“Du musst nicht wenn du nicht willst.” [ You don’t have to if you don’t want to. ]

“Nein.” [ No. ] This time his voice seems more resolved, “Ich möchte.” [ I want to. ]

He pulled off his hood. His face was ruddy, but it worked well with his light hair and eyes. You two both looked so similar yet so different.

“Du hast alle guten Gene geerbt,” [ You clearly got all the good genes, ] you joked.

He turned his head bashfully, accidentally revealing his battered side profile.

“Deine arme Nase! Was passiert?” [ Your poor nose! What happened to it? ]

“Zebrochen. Ein paarmal. Bisschen verwickelt medizinische Hilfe zu erkriegen wenn du deinem Gesicht verheimlichst.” [ Broke it. A few times. Bit hard to get medical attention when you refuse to show your face. ]

“Nächste Mal einfach ruf mich. Ich habe dein Gesicht schön gesehen.” [ Next time just come to me. I’ve already seen your face. ]

“Mit Verlaub zu sagen, wie viel kannst du hilf mit helfen?” [ No offense, but how much can you help? ]

“Ja leider. Was weiß ich?” [ You’re right. What do I know? ] you bit back. “Ich habe nur noch ein Viertel vom Medschule übrig.” [ I’m only a quarter out from graduating med school. ]

“Soll das ein Scherz sein?” [ You’re joking. ]

“Das war nicht im Bericht?” [ That didn’t make it into the file? ]

“Nein. Wann ist der Abschluss?” [ No. When’s graduation? ]

You tensed. He was beaming with pride. You hated to ruin it with the ugly truth.

“Ich weiß nicht ob ich graduiere.” [ I don’t know if I will graduate. ]

“Warum? Hast du schulische Probleme?” [ Why? Are you having troubles at school? ]

“Sozusagen. Meine Noten sind gut, aber heuer versuchte ich zu ausscheiden. Sie ließen mich nicht, so nahm ich Gewaltkur.” [ Sort of? My grades are fine but… I tried to drop out earlier this year. They wouldn’t let me so I took more… drastic measures. ]

König’s eyes drifted to your scars.

“Sie sind alt.” [ They’re old, ] you reassured. “Und danach dem ganze Entführungquatch, ich bin entschlossen zu überleben. Vetrau mir. Deshalb möchte ich nicht zurückkehren. Ich möchte leben, nicht in Schule sorgen.” [ Plus after the whole kidnapping ordeal, I’m more determined to live than ever. Trust me. That’s why I don’t want to go back. I want to live, not suffer more in school. ]

Your brother looked at you disapprovingly, “Du musst zurückgehen.” [ You need to go back. ]

“Kann ich einfach hier bleiben? Bei dir? Ich könnte Medizinerin sein.” [ Can’t I just stay here with you? I could be a medic. ]

"Medizinische Arbeit ist nicht leicht.” [ Being a medic is hard work. ]

“Fleiß ist kein fremd.” [ I’m no stranger to hard work.]

“Du wärst ein bessere Medizinerin, wenn du Schule fertigbringst.” [ You’d be a better medic if you finished school. ]

You stared at him with arms crossed, unyielding.

He tried again, “Wenn du dein Medizinstudium abschließt kannst du hier arbeiten. Und du erhältst eine besondere Belohnung von mir.” [ Look, if you graduate you can work here full time—and I’ll ensure you get a special reward. ]

“Was?” [ What? ]

“Eine Überraschung. Du wirst es schön wissen.” [ It’s a surprise. I won’t tell you. Yet. ]

You pursed your lips. Clearly this wasn’t an argument you were going to win.

“In Ordnung. Aber lass mich länger bleiben. Ich möchte dich kennenlernen.” [ Fine. But let me stay a little longer. I want to get to know you.]

“Natürlich.” [ Of course. ]

The tension dissipated.

“Du hast gesagt das du lasst Medical dein Gesicht nicht sehen. Erlaubst du irgendjemand?” [ You said you don’t let medical see your face. Do you let anyone else? ]

Your brother flushed. He really was quite pink under the hood.

“Einer.” [ One person .]

You mentally rolled up your sleeves. You had over two decades of little sister pestering to make up for.

“Echt?” [ Oh really? ]

“Ein Freund.” [ A friend. ]

“Ein Freund oder dein Freund?” [ A friend or your boyfriend? ]

“Ich liebe ihn.” [ I love him. ]

“Gefühl er gleichartig?” [ And does he feel the same?]

“Ja.” [ Yes. ]

“Na ja, ich muss sehen, ob er gut genug für dich ist.” [ Hmm. I’ll have to see if he’s good enough for you. ] 

He slumped in relief. With a jolt you realized he was afraid of you… rejecting him. For what? Being in a relationship with another man? No, you of all people would never do that. You silently resolved to make sure he would never have to fear that ever again.

“Du kannst ihn heute Abend in der Kantine begegen.” [ You can meet him in the mess hall tonight. ]

----------

The mess hall is awash with activity. Even here amongst allies and coworkers, people gave König a wide berth.

“Welcher ist er?” [ Which one is he? ]

König pointed to a man sitting alone at a table.

“Dieser.” [ That one. ]

“Noch ein Maskenträger? Bisschen narzisstisch, ja?” [ Another mask? Bit narcissistic of you, isn’t it?]

You felt your brother roll his eyes under his hood. The sitting man’s head jerked up at the sound of his heavy footsteps. His mask already pulled up over his mouth to eat, the man broke out into a brilliant smile.

“Das ist der Horangi.” [ This is Horangi. ] König introduced. “Klarname Kim Hong-jin.” [ Real name Kim Hong-jin. ]

“Sprecht er Deutsch?” [ Does he speak German? ]

“Ja.” [ Yes. ] Horangi responded. “Er war mein Lehrer. So wurden wir unzertrennlich. Du bist seine Schwester, ja?” [ He has been my tutor. It’s actually how we got close. You’re his sister, right? ]

“Richtig.” [ Yes. ]

“Does she speak English?” Horangi asked your brother, switching languages. You knew it was just a way to test your skills, but it irked you.

“I’m American.”

“Just because you’re American doesn’t mean you speak English. I don’t even know if half the stuff that comes out of Graves’ mouth even qualifies as human speech.”

“Graves?” you looked to your brother for explanation.

“Er ist—wie sagt man das? Yee-haw?” [ He is… how do you say it? Yee-haw? ]

“Südstaatler?” [ Southern? ]

“Geneau.” [ Exactly. ]

You crossed your arms and gave Horangi a final thorough look-over.

“I approve under one condition.”

“Yes?”

“Teach me how to fight. It’s great that I was able to meet my brother but I do not want a repeat of the kidnapping.”

Horangi cocked his head, “Wouldn’t you want to learn from your brother?”

“There are plenty of things I want to learn from him. This is not one of them. Based on size alone, we’re going to have very different strategies. I’m sure he’s a great fighter, but I have a feeling that using his technique with my frame would be… lackluster. No offense.”

“Kein Problem.” [ None taken. ]

“Very well,” Horangi relented. If this was all it took to be on the good side of his in-laws, it was a small price to pay. “I expect to see you at 7 sharp. I won’t go easy on you.”

“Perfect.”

----------

Horangi’s right. It’s not easy, but slowly and steadily—and with no small amount of tears and blood—you managed to win Horangi’s respect (and a nice set of abs).

About a week in, he makes a suggestion. You two were on a water break, your brother was sitting nearby. König had taken to watching your sparring, occasionally commentating or tagging in.

“Du verbesserst!” [ You’re improving! ] the Austrian complimented brightly.

“Und ich habe gar nichts mit es zu tun.” [ And I had absolutely nothing to do with the matter, ] Horangi muttered with mock resentment.

“Unsinn, du bist immer ein prima Lehrer.” [Nonsense, you are an excellent teacher.] König apologized with a kiss.

“Wirklich! Vielen Dank.” [ Definitely, thank you so much! ] you corroborated.

Horangi shifted. Even in training, he still wore the mask—at least while in the base’s general gym. He was more lackadaisical about it in private. Your “family dinners” with him and König had given you a good look at both of their faces. 

You’d become well versed in his facial reactions. Even with his face covered you could feel his devilish smile.

“자기야, du solltest ihr deine erste Liebe vorstellen.” [You know babe, you should introduce her to your first love.]

Your head snapped to your brother. Sans Horangi, you were probably the person on base who he felt most comfortable talking about his past with, but even then it sometimes felt like pulling teeth. You quickly learned to treasure any lore you gleaned.

“Was? Warum habe ich noch nie von das gehört?” [ What? How have I not heard of this before? ]

König raised his hands in defense.

“Das stimmt nicht. Er verhohnepipelt mich.” [ It’s not like that. He’s making fun of me. ]

“Wer ist diese erste Liebe dann?” [ Who is this first love then? ]

“Scharfschützen.” [ Sniping, ] he replied bashfully.

----------

After much cajoling, you finally got König to teach you to snipe. You had a good feeling about it. You always had a steady hand and good hand-eye coordination. Before the kidnapping, you’d even been looking into specializing in surgery (though now—whenever you’d return—you’d be taking a hard turn into emergency medicine and the other subjects required for a combat medic). Plus maybe it ran in the family.

You met at the shooting range one early morning. Horangi had recently been deployed and your brother needed to stop stressing about it.

“Ich wollte ein Heckenschütze sein.” [ I wanted to be a sniper, ] he explained as he showed you the mechanics. The assembly of the gun soundtracked his words with rhythmic clicking.

“Du bist ein Insertionsspezialist, ja? Was passiert?” [ You’re an insertion specialist, right? What happened? ]

“Zu groß. Das wird kein Problem für dich.” [ Too tall. That won’t be an issue for you. ]

You crossed your arms. Cheap shot. König didn’t notice your disapproval, eyes now trained on the target.

“Auch ich zappele.” [ And I fidget .]

“Ich habe dein Scharfschießen gesehen. Du hast eine feste Hand.” [ I’ve seen you shoot. You have a steady hand. ]

“Hände kann ich ruhen. Alles anderes, nicht so viel. Problematisch, wenn man unauffindbar sein muss. Erinnern: Drück, nicht zieh.” [ I can keep my hands steady. The rest of me, not so much. A slight issue when trying to be undetectable. Remember, squeeze don’t pull. ]

BANG

Bullseye.

“Du bist dran.” [ Your turn. ]

You approached the marked spot. This seemed so much easier before you felt the gun in your hands and witnessed your brother’s expertise first hand.

“Hol drei tief Atemzüge. Großer letzter Ausatmen. Das ist der Moment. Beacht Folgemaßnahmen, Rückstoß ist eine knifflige, besonders bei deiner Größe.” [ Take three deep breaths. Big exhale on the last. That’s when you want to shoot. And remember to follow through, recoil can be a bitch, especially at your size. ]

Even with your nervousness, you still found it in yourself to retort.

“Nennst du mich kurz?” [ Are you calling me short? ]

“Für mich seid ihr alle kurz. Das ist nichts speziell. Schussbereit!” [ You’re all short to me. There’s nothing special about that. Position! ]

The gun was heavy, but thanks to your work with Horangi not unbearable.

One.

Two.

Three. 

Even watching your brother’s demonstration hadn’t prepared you for just how loud the gunshot was.

You flinched. Hard.

The bullet went left, landing in the dirt with a small puff.

“Scheiße.” [ Shit. ]

“Gute Form. Ohne dein Zucken, wurdest du ins Schwarze treffen. Du musst nur an dem Krach passen. Probier es noch mal.” [ Good form. If it wasn’t for the flinch you would’ve got it dead on. You just need to get used to the noise. Try again. ]

You were still rattled, but your brother’s confidence in you steadied your hands.

You knew you could do it, you just had to…

Eins.

Zwei.

Drei.

There was no dust cloud this time. Only the noise of the round hitting something solid and your brother’s exhilarated whoop as he took you in his arms.

----------

Saying goodbye was rough. Both König and Horangi joined you on the ride to the airport, wanting to prolong goodbyes for as long as possible.

“Bis bald.” [ See you soon. ]

When your flight finally touched down and you returned to finish med school, it was with a few training bruises, an even steadier finger, and a determination to help your new family the only way you knew how.

An explanation of König & Reader's full names and the historical references behind them

[saltnsugarbear]

we've been breathing the same air for too long

summary: you invite Lip to one of your games!

title from: "Brando" by Lucy Dacus

word count: 1.5k

content warnings: fade to black smut moment, lots of volleyball babble, nothing crazy!

side note: today's is for my Sonia!! I know youre not a sports girlie but I love nerd bf/sports partner with Lip, you are my beloved! you're so darling! I'm so glad I met you <3

It started out purely neighborly.

You lived on the same street, it was easier for Lip to catch a ride with you. He didn't know you guys lived on the same street until you had a English project together. Lip thought he'd do most of the heavy lifting, mostly because you were, well.... you were a jock. And he kind of assumed you were.... Well not dumb, but certainly not as into the curriculum as you were.

So when you contribute just as much to the project as he does, Lip is surprised and... Endeared to you. You're much more opinionated on the romantic era than he gave you credit for.

What he liked less was having to wait after your practice. Traditionally, Lip would have set up in the library to wait for you, but of course they were using it this year to help try and get their passing grade percentage up. So he has no choice but to make his way down to the gym. The net is already set up and the ball cart next to one of the posts.

Lip doesn't miss the double takes that some of the team does, looking back at where he's set up on the bleachers. He doesn't bother looking back at them, he's got work to do. What does get his attention is the ball that hits the bleachers below him. Lip furrows his brow before he looks up from his worksheet. What he doesn't expect is to see you standing at the foot of the bleachers with your hands on your hips.

"What are you doing down here? I thought I was collecting you from the library?" Your voice echoes slightly, raising it to be heard over your team talking.

"They're using it," Lip shrugs. His response makes you grin, leaning so you're resting your elbows against the second or third bleacher and place your head in your hands.

"You just wanted to see me practice," You tease, crossing one ankle over the other despite your knee pads. Lip rolling his eyes makes you smile wider, pushing yourself up to rest on your hands.

"Just don't stare at my ass the whole time," You tease him further, not missing the way the tips of his ears tinge just the smallest bit pink.

And he doesn't, for the most part. Keeping his eyes and his mind on his homework. The rest of the week follows much of the same, save for when he catches a few glances of you, hands on your knees while you wait for serve. After practice you change and Lip collects his things, and then you lead him to your car and drive to your house to work on your project.

And your interactions stay strictly focused on the project. Keeping space between you both on your mattress or on the couch. Keeping conversation light or on the section of Self Reliance you had both picked.

That's until the day you have to turn in the project. To say you're going to miss seeing Lip in the bleachers is.... Pathetic. He only ever sat there because he had to, not because he wanted to be there for you. So, you bring it up after you pick him up from his house, waving his siblings goodbye as they mope their way to the bus stop.

"So, I was thinking-" You start.

"That's never good," Lip says after blowing smoke out the window, glancing over at you when he ashes his cigarette out the window.

"Shut up, free loader." You scoff, lightly reminding him you're the one driving.

"You were thinking?" Lip coaxes, motioning with his hand to encourage you.

"I was thinking," You continue. "That... I don't know, that you could come to my game today. I mean, since you were at all the practices. Why not see it pay off?"

You shrug before glancing at him. Lip is watching the road, humming in thought.

"Fuck it, why not?" Lip huffs, like it's something out of his way to stay after school. His response makes you scoff and roll your eyes, trying to suppress the smile toying at your lips.

Lip agreeing to watch your game puts you in a good mood for the rest of the day. Makes you noticeably more cheery at your lunch table and brush off the poor grade you got on your history quiz. However, you don't see Lip after you guys walk into the school. So you just have to trust he doesn't change his mind at some point during the day and just hop on the bus home.

The crowd inside the gym is loud, and they only get louder when your team walks in. There's too many people to try and pick out Lip's face in the crowd and you feel your stomach twist. Maybe you were stupid to think he would actually show up.

Your warm-ups and game go off without a hitch. Except that your nerves nearly cause you to start a fight with one of the rival girls, faces up in the net and calling each other names. The timeout you receive quickly reminds you that there's more than just your feelings at hand.

Your bench time is when you spot Lip. He's managed to wiggle is way to the front bleachers opposite of you. He knows when you see him by how you perk up, eyes wide when you sit up. The only thing he gives you is a two finger salute and nod towards your coach. Who is telling you to get back on the court and hopefully help bag the game point for this set.

The rest of the game is a blur, one that results in your team winning. The celebration with your team is short as you try and hunt down Lip. He's easy to find along the edges of the gym, pushing through families and friends to get to him.

"You made it," You sigh, bringing him into a quick hug. You don't miss how Lip pauses before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close before you slip out. "Ready to go?"

"Ready to get away from these freaks.." Lip huffs, shouldering his bag. His response makes you roll your eyes before you drag him out to the hall.

"Two seconds." You tell him before slipping into your locker room to collect your bag. You text one of your teammates to fill you in on the after match huddle, they're usually the same but just in case.

Once you're ready, you taking Lip by the hand and lead him out of the building.

Your car is the only one in this corner of the student parking lot and no one across the lot will see you down there. You take advantage of that and press Lip up against the side of the door. He makes a noise of surprise that you cut off with your own mouth, not missing the way he drops his bag on the asphalt to get hands on you.

"Thought you weren't gonna come," You say between kisses, placing stray ones along his jaw before going back to his mouth.

"And miss you nearly fighting that girl? Not a chance.." Lip sighs, fumbling for the door handle behind him. You hum, opening the front passenger door to throw both your backpacks in there while he finally opens the door. He waits for you to slip onto the seat before following you in.

You practically jump on him after he closes the door behind him. You hold his face between both your hands as you kiss him, keeping him as close to you as you can.

"Fuck-" Lip mutters against your mouth, panting heavily as you make your way to pressing kisses along his jaw. "Let me- shit- Let me show you how proud I am of you.."

His words make your eyes widen, pulling away to look at him.

"What?" You ask breathlessly.

"Let me," Lip quickly loops his fingers into your spandex shorts. "Show you. How proud I am.."

"Lip, you don't have to-" You start.

"Want to," Lip smirks, tugging gently at your waistband until you get the hint to lift your hips up for him.

"Are you sure?" You ask, helping him push them off your ankles.

"Why wouldn't I be sure?" Lip asks, leaning forward to start pressing kisses along your neck.

"Just that," You sigh softly when Lip places a soft nip at your jaw. "Most guys don't like... Y'know.."

"Most guys are idiots," Lip mutters into your skin, slipping one hand under the hem of your jersey to grope at your chest.

"Wait," You huff, slipping out of his touch to lean up against your center console. You manage to grab at the bar that allows you to push the passenger seat up so Lip has more room in foot well. The pinch Lip gives your ass makes you squeal, nudging him gently with your leg.

Lip gets the hint and slips into the foot well when you slide back into your seat.

"Lean back," Lip urges you, hooking his fingers in your underwear.

"Gonna show you how proud I am.."

[neflil]

Aah here is the text post...

The usual couple doodles ::D

And future projects / catching up vv

*taps mic* Yaelokre gabbro makes a return. Also new song is out! Go listen to it if you haven't jshfjjs

Just gabbooo :3c

Okay so, gather up everyone. Schools started, I suddenly have to study and memorize two latin texts within a few days, history, and ancient Greek philosophy analyses and translations. Not fun, kinda! I don't have as much time as I did during summer and I can't finish a full drawing within a day. *But* ideas are as vivid as ever. And honestly I really want to do some of the stuff I'm imagining. Some are already in the works !!! These are mostly gabbro/time buddies related. Sorry fans of other characters but I spent the entire summer only drawing slate </3

Sooo... What to expect from me? Well:

• I'm writing a short fic! Which is close to being done- Without saying much- a replay of certain memories before the eventual death/creation of everything.

• I am currently doing an OC piece with two owlks ::D this should probably be next post if I finish it soon!

• More short animatics. Cus I have... So many songs... That I want to draw with the time buddies. Short ranging from a couple of seconds, to maybe a minute, so don't expect much. All I'll say is- guhhh y'all better enjoy flower face because all of these are with her songs lmfao..

> There are two songs atleast that I want to make almost full animatics, but that's probably not going to happen, so instead I'll take sections from them.

> Two lyrics from the same song I made last time buddies animatic. Cus I had a vision and I must fulfil it. If this continues, at this rate I'll animate the entire song every time I get struck with a vision, part by part lmfao.

> A possible gabbro centric animatic with the chorus of a song.

• And well, more school doodles/drawings ofc.. but those are kinda random. Please, if you have any suggestions drop them in my ask box!

• A certain fic might get an animatic. I won't elaborate on this. Patience.

• Lastly Mica and Slate piece, bc apparently I've never drawn them and that should be a crime. Some fluff to break up all this incoming angst.

These have a priority list ofc, but the way I work is pretty much spontaneous. So whatever I'm up for will take priority. It'll take time but I hope to have finished all of these within the next couple of months. We'll see how things go... I also have to balance other things and art in-between so blehhh. It's a mess.

Reminder if anyone wants to browse through my art easier without having to go through my entire account- the tag #noofposting is here for that reason. o7

Also also, since I now have these two animatics and more to come- to not get lost in my acc, I'll also tag them with #noofanimatics to be able to filter through my stuff easier.

[moonchild-in-blue]

Vessel and the New Lore

So the new messages got me thinking and connecting dots. I don't know coherent this will sound, but I think there's something here? Anyways. Something about the relationship Vessel has with himself vs. The Mask.

I thought it'd be interesting to link the parallels between the Room Bellow show and the Fall For Me video messages, with the new ones and the album. Long post ahead so I'll put a cut somewhere.

(This is the second time I'll be writing this cus tumblr decided to be a hoe and deleted my entire draft so if it seems weird, you know. Pro tip: never use the app for long posts.)

Disclaimer: I'm in no way endorsing or encouraging any type of discourse about Vessel's irl identity and/or other [Redacted] and such. Unfortunately I do know things, but not everyone does. Respect the band; don't spoil it for others. If you know, keep it to yourself.

So, starting with the first message:

Mask: Why am I here? What is my purpose in all of this? Vessel: Your purpose is twofold. You protect me, from them, and you also protect them from me. Mask: How is it that I serve to protect anyone from anything, that makes no sense. Vessel: In order for all of this to work there has to be a certain boundary in place. They need to be able to project themselves onto this, without anyone else's identity getting in the way. In turn, I need to be able to show my true self to them in a way that does not compromise their ability to connect. Mask: So that's what I am? A boundary? Vessel: Yes.

We have here a confirmation of what he has told us many times before, either indirectly or not. The Mask/the Vessel persona serves as a way for him to connect and engage with us, while keeping both parties safe. We get to project onto and take from him some sort of comfort and catharsis, without any external factors to influence and skew the way we interpret his music, and He gets to expose and deal with his pain and negative thoughts in a protected environment. Who he is is irrelevant, we're merely here to share and understand each other.

Through the anonymity the mask offers, he is free to be as vulnerable and open with us as he wants, while keeping his identity safely stored away. The Mask serves as the physical reminder of how much we are allowed to know about him, and in return, how far he can (or should) expose himself without compromising his true identity. By living as Vessel and forgetting himself, he is ironically free to bare his most fragile and imperfect parts of himself on display (much like how we're all infinitely more honest about our struggles behind a fake online name than in irl.)

(curiously, this seems to be a contradiction to Higher's second verse, which feeds into the idea that Sleep is not the protector Vessel sometimes claims Them to be - "With all that you believe / You still refuse to shelter me")

From the Room Bellow:

"I experienced a great deal of pain in my life, however I do not believe I have suffered as you have suffered. Perhaps that Is another reason why we are here. At the very least, we have all suffered."

Lore wise, we are told time and time again that Vessel is a "sacred guardian", a messenger, a weapon, a tool - a physical vessel - for Sleep and Their message. He is the answer to Sleep's necessity for connection with us. And for that to work, he willingly gives up his identity for Sleep. For us.

Mask: I don't believe you. I believe there is more to it than that. I believe you are afraid of something. Vessel: We are all afraid of something, are we not? Mask: What is it you are so afraid they will see? Vessel: That I am exactly like everyone else. ... Vessel: I think I am afraid of becoming you. Mask: What does that even mean? Vessel: My life is becoming gradually consumed by you. Before long, all that I am will be contained within you. Then, one day, when I no longer wish to wear you, there will be nothing else left.

"I am afraid, are you afraid? I want to understand what it is to let go." (Fall For Me)

At the end of the day, Vessel is just some guy - he fears, and aches, and bleeds the same as us. We're equals. But as Vessel, he can't allow himself to crack, to break the illusion. As Vessel (and to connect to the lore, as the vessel of a god), he poses as someone we can look up to, someone who's there to carry our pain for us, almost like a symbiotic relationship of sorts - we feed on each other's emotions and energies.

From the Room Bellow:

"To love oneself is not the easy task we are sometimes told it is. (...) My own path towards greater self acceptance is paved with the art that I create. It is a path I continue to stumble down at the expense of everything else."

Without getting too much into it, it seems Vessel/Sleep Token were created as a sort of coping mechanism to deal with whatever it is that He went through. And he seems to have achieved that - he escaped his former self and became "Vessel", someone who's allowed to cry and rage and let his feeling loose. Someone who receives praise and comfort for it, someone who is finally understood.

Except that somehow, that same safety the Mask offered him backfired. Because how can you tell what's you and what's not? It appears that the lines between Vessel vs. Him have blurred beyond recognition. Because "Nothing lasts forever", so once ST ends, and Vessel is no longer a necessity, who does he become? Can he go back to his old self? Is there even a self to go back to?

Do you ever believe that we can turn into different people? It's getting harder to be myself. Do you wish that you loved me? Could we ever release? Is it better to just not feel?

I think it's worth mentioning DYWTYLM. Usually when I listen to it, I just interpret as being about self-love/esteem, suicidal thoughts, insecurities, yada yada yada, BUT! I think it kinda fits this right?? Like a conversation between Vessel and Him, the guy behind the mask.

And really, if you think about it, I think this dialogue is the basis of what TMBTE is. It's Vessel facing all these different facets of himself, the past versions, the ugly sides, coming to terms with them and learning to move on. And in the end, we see he finally does realize, albeit somewhat reluctantly, that there is more to it, than he can "be someone new", even if it means he needs to shed and let go of past versions of himself.

(of course, this is putting aside the whole trilogy and the story we've been told about Sleep/Vessel/Whatever romantic entanglement he was involved in. i'm merely giving this some other meaning and choosing to look through a very specific lens. call it a parallel universe if you want)

It's him accepting that although there may not be a version of himself to come back to, his Eden so to speak, there is finally something more waiting for him. But I'll get more into it later.

Also worth mentioning, this part of conversation-

Mask : Do you think they want you to cry? Do you think they like it? Vessel : Not as such, I think they just want to know that I am feeling something, feeling what they are feeling, perhaps. Mask : Do you think that this amount of crying is healthy for you? Vessel: I don't know. But at least I feel something, if I don't feel anything than why would I even do this?

-seems to be directly co-related to those lines on DYWTYLM. He wonders if maybe would be better not to feel at all, as if really asking himself, "should I continue to live as Vessel?", because that is his/The Mask's function.

(I almost forgot to mention the "Smile back at me" / "I can only ever see them smiling. That's good, I want them to smile." co-relations, but you see where I'm going right?")

Mask: It seems you have forgotten who you are. Before you had me you were nothing. All of this artifice, all this pathetic conjecture about your identity, it is nothing but a manifestation of how short-sighted and solipsistic you have become. I lifted you from misery and obscurity. You would be better to become me. You are nothing without me. You always were nothing without me.

"I am nothing without this music. I am nothing without this mask." (Room Bellow)

Sleep is a dickhead. And there it is - another confirmation of what we all assumed, of what he has also told us many times before in different words. Vessel, or better yet, Him, struggles with imposter syndrome, and a part of him seems to believe his worth is exclusively tied to his ability to create music and perform. Because who matters is Vessel, not Him. The praise and adoration, the glory, belongs to solely Vessel (in-lore, to Sleep).

He does not matter. He is insignificant. He is nothing.

So it makes sense to see how much he wishes to be someone else. How dependent he on his Mask (on Sleep). He can't shed that new identity away, because somehow, it became is ONLY identity. And yet, he knows that one day that must happen. And from a creative/artist standpoint, when you expose yourself the way he does into your art, almost bleeding into it, if that outlet is taken away, you really are left with nothing.

(yall, read the poem "about the PEN conference" by Bukowski).

"The truth is, I am ugly, I am inadequate, I am lost. I am no God." (Fall For Me)

And can I just say, how incredibly heartbreaking it is to hear him talk about himself like that? I have so, so much love and respect for Ves, it's almost ridiculous to think he is only worth the weight of his mask. I would give him a million hugs if I could. Whether or not he still believes that, I hope he one day can look at himself the way we do, and be proud and happy of the amazing human that he is.

I also think that, and this is just me rambling, their sudden explosion to fame must've taken some sort of toll of sorts. It must be SUCH an amazing feeling to see this many people connect and dedicate themselves to something you created, to be able to read between the lines of you thoughts, but it must just equally as scary. Suddenly there's SO many eyes on you, demanding and picking apart every gesture. Viciously clawing at the mask for a glimpse of the fragile soul within. It must not be easy to cope - and this goes to everyone in Sleep Token. They have to deal with so much unfairness, it's disgusting.

Vessel: You. Are. Wrong. In the end, my fractured sense of self was only another piece of fuel for the fire that burns in the eyes of these people before us. They too are pained. They too not know who they truly are. They are each stood alone on a stage of their own. And yet, they are here. United by that sense of never truly belonging. They see something beyond their own bleak horizons. And they reach for it. Together. So let us join now. To reflect their joy and to serve as a conduit for their anguish. To swallow their fear. To Worship.

"So for now let me serve as a living drama of your pain. If we are to be submerged then let us be submerged together." (Fall For Me)

And this is the part that really breaks me. He knows how much we need this, how much we rely on his music, on his words. He fights against his own claims that he has no value - he serves a purpose and that purpose is to serve the audience. Us. To take our struggles, our desires, and make it his own. To basically serve as a sacrifice for our well-being. To suffer, to feel together. To serve as a living drama of OUR pain.

"I will smile through the agony for you".

Because in the end, we're all equally broken. Because that's what the Mask is for, the anonymity, the mystery, the band - for us to "project ourselves" onto him, onto them. They are vessels, servants, worshippers of a god who shelters them; much like how we interact with their music, much like how Vessel thinks his purpose is for.

(and I could expand on this weird worshipper vs worshipee cycle, but i'm tired and i can't ramble on for too long. someone more clever than me feel free to expand)

(a post edit: peep that "fire that burns in the eyes of these people before us" vs "those eyes like fire, I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre" parallel. Vessel sacrificing himself to us, for us. Performing and being Vessel as something he cannot but feel compelled to do.)

From the Room Bellow:

"We are here to silently collect. To project ourselves onto one-another. We are here to remember. We are here to forget."

WHICH BRINGS US TO EUCLID.

No, by now The night belongs to you This bough has broken through I must be someone new

If we are to take the messages as a complement to the album, then this definitely marks the "shift" in Vessel's perspective. He CAN be more, and he NEEDS to be more. To be new.

The night does not belong to god - it belongs to US. To Him. Not just Vessel, but Him. Obviously this is all speculation, but it really feels like he's ready to let go of so many things, and move on. To renew himself, to stand up and fight. To finally "bite back". He doesn't seem to be completely changed, as there are things he still seems to hold on to (just listen to Euclid). But it´s different now. The "vicious cycle is over."

"They see something beyond their own bleak horizons. And they reach for it. Together. So let us join now."

Vessel seems to emphasize the "collectiveness" of what Sleep Token is and represents quite often. So in a way, it´s him saying "We´ve all suffered together, we've all experienced so many things together, so let us reach for something better as one. Let us all become new. You are not alone in this, and neither am I, so hold on to us and be happy."

WHICH IS!!!!! JUST!!!!!

I think this shift represents something important. My guess, like many others have said, is that Something Big is going to happen in/after Wembley. I don't know what, I don't know if it's truly the end of the road for ST, as many speculate, but something is definitely going to happen. Whatever it is, I hope this is a positive change for them, and specially Vessel, and I am just so so grateful to be part of this amazing community of ours.

(if you read the whole thing, I love you and thank you and I'm sorry. My brain was itching real bad and this had to be let out. Don't take this a proper analysis or whatever, this is me squeezing excess water off the old rag that is my mind)

[mrradmccoolman]

hello everynyan!! it's baby's second (?) tumblr post. i present to you:

ELLIOTT'S ANDERPERRY SONG ANALYSIS

okay, so, here's the gist of it: i have an ever-growing playlist on spotify of songs i feel fit neil, todd, or their relationship as a whole. each song is not only one i like, but also has lyrics that represent something specific about them. this sort of thing is something ive done for multiple characters for a long time, and ive always had carefully curated reasons behind my choices. i just recently got back into the dps fandom, and thought this would be a good way to not only show how i see the characters, but also become a part of the community on Tumblr myself :)

i will not be doing every song simply because i do not have the time and the playlist is way too long for that, but i'll definitely be choosing some favorites. i'll most likely just post whenever i feel like it, so i can't promise any sort of a timeline. this is just a little project i thought would be fun, especially considering the fics im working on take me ages lol 😅

sooo without further ado: song number one is....

Habanero by Rosie Tucker

i've been listening to a lot of rosie tucker's music lately, and this song really stood out to me as a todd/neil song from neil's perspective. one of the reasons i connect so much to neil as a character is because i see myself in him, and subsequently how he handles what i see as a very real depressive disorder throughout the movie. this song makes me think of his feelings and relationship with todd in canon, how he sees himself and todd, and the bittersweet-ness of loving someone in the "wrong" way.

"...you said "this never happens to me, this never happens" but you smile while you suffer so you're lying or wrong" this lyric encapsulates a big part of neil's perception of todd, especially towards the beginning of the movie. it specifically reminds me of the "what do you mean no?" scene and the argument they have leading up to it. it also alludes to todd's poem scene in front of the class and neil's reaction to it. he sees todd as saying this sort of bewildered, in awe, "this never happens to me," because, well, for todd, that's how it feels. he doesn't speak in front of people, he doesn't share parts of himself like that. i actually believe he didn't even really write poetry on his own before keating's class, either, so even writing at all is a big step for him- never mind showing others. we know todd hates public speaking and being perceived (although it's a lot more complicated than that, but i won't get into it here) so he "smiles while (he) suffers" because even though this is something he hates and feels so much shame about, a part of him is amazed and happy he did it at all. thus the "you're lying or wrong" from neil- i see this as neil recognizing that actually, knowing todd, this isn't the first time he's done something like this like he might think. in truth, todd says and does beautiful things like this all the time. though todd sees himself as dull and embarassing, neil sees the truth. we often think of neil as recognizing todd as a diamond in the rough, but people are more complicated than that. really, todd has always had this beauty inside him- this is just the first time he (and everyone else) has gotten the opportunity to really see it. neil feels vindicated in a sense, because he knew it was there.

"i'm never happy, but i've never been better" i feel this lyric is pretty straightforward when it comes to neil. he has depression, which makes it so so hard to feel happy, even when you think you should- and most of the time, neil doesn't even have those moments. todd isn't some cure-all for his problems, and certainly doesn't make his depression go away, but he's a huge aid to neil. he's the one person who really sees him. even if neil still isn't happy in the traditional way, he still feels better around todd. another thing i could get into buttt this post is already gonna be long enough as is lol.

"i need to see you sweat" i feel this one is also pretty self explanatory. it's sexuality and desire, something neil has likely not felt to this level before. especially when you're depressed, it's hard to feel any sort of desire. i feel that any thoughts neil would have would already be pretty vague because of his internalized homophobia, but this would be similar to the way he would allow himself to verbalize his feelings. there are a lot of great fics out there that i feel really encapsulate this well.

"wouldn't we be perfect together if we wanted exactly the same thing?" i would argue that the majority of the fandom kind of accepts neil's feelings for todd as pretty obviously requited, even though interestingly enough, from an outside perspective i would actually argue neil's feelings are the most obviously canon. not that i don't definitely believe todd feels the same, nor do i think this is a bad thing- it's just that the entire movie revolves around identity, and neil's passion for acting serves as a metaphor for queerness pretty obviously, and beyond that acting is associated with queer identity as a whole, another reason behind mr. perry's aversion to it. neil doesn't know if todd feels the same as he does. even if things may seem obvious to us, this isn't "normal" for the time period and so i believe wholeheartedly that neil didn't know todd had any feelings for him. was this more his own self hatred, him protecting himself, or that anything he saw that may have alluded to reciprocation he convinced himself was his own mind playing tricks on him? probably a mixture of all three.

"but i smile while i suffer like a sucker supreme" even though neil knows this won't end well, that his feelings are "wrong" and this is hurting him in the long run, he can't help himself when it comes to todd. he's a sucker for him and the feelings he gets being around him.

"all at once i'm a child trapping tadpoles in a cup, and i know they'll never make it (...) but i smile while they suffer 'cause i want it so much" neil knows being in the play, being with todd, and defying his father is a losing game. he knows, on a distant level, that he'll never get away with it. maybe during the play he finally, for one gorgeous moment, truly believed things would change- but then his father shows up and proves he was right all along. he knows he's doomed, that todd was right to doubt his plan to lie to his father in the first place, but he wants it so badly he doesn't care (or, more than that, he feels so incredibly trapped that he's given up and has resigned himself to the consequences). not only this, but his depression has made his latching onto the one thing that gives him hope even more intense. to be ripped away from this, the only thing he's ever wanted- the only person he's ever wanted- is the end. he knows that. even so, even though he can see the futility of it all crumbling beneath him, he sees the fall through.

"i can't believe i'll die before becoming a frog" there's a sort of disbelief in his resignation to death in his final moments, a darkly humorous "i can't believe it's come to this, that this is really happening" despite not really being surprised. neil is cutting everything short and throwing away his potential before his father gets the chance to do it for him. he'll never "become a frog" in so many ways- never get to live for himself, never get to become an adult, never get to act again, etc.

well...that was very long! if you've made it to the end of this post, i hope this was as fun for you as it was for me :)) i'll definitely be doing more of these as time goes on!! let me know your thoughts!!

(the playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Fh97W8EItmoJHjQvjsBl4?si=WoH7J5GHTfmt3v7OuqbHnQ&pi=6x2g03n8Q1Knc )

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[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Mine For The Taking: Part 3

MobAU - Colter Stevens x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Eventual Smut, Angst, Violence and Mob related content, Swearing, Alcohol and Drug mentions, Probably a lot of inaccuracies and lack of proof reading sorrrryyyyyy

- Part 2 Here -

—————————

18+ Only

—————————

- 6 Years Earlier -




“I honestly can’t thank you enough.” You sighed in relief as you’d finally walked through the front door and unclipped Tank from his leash.




Tank ran off to his bed and began chewing on a toy, happy with his chaotic walk.




Colter smiled and let out a chuckle as he leaned against the open door frame, a gust of cool air wafting through the room, “There’s no way I was letting you get dragged home, at least not on your own.”




You grinned as you turned to face him, he looked much more handsome in the day light, his eyes practically glowing in the dim light of your homes entry way.




“Did you want to stay for a tea or coffee?” You blurred out, and you turned to busy yourself with some post on the side, suddenly shy and feeling hot under his stare. You had tried so hard to maintain eye contact, but his eyes bore so deep into yours you had to pull away for the fear he could read your very thoughts.




He rubbed the back of his head and smiled softly, “I would love to… but I have to be somewhere.”




You felt deflated, but forced a smile as you turned to face him and nodded, “No problem, thank you for saving me today.”




Colter smiled once more and turned to leave, and you let out a quiet sigh as you let your smile drop.




Suddenly he turned back around, and it almost startled you, and you forced yourself to straighten up from your defeated slump.




“Maybe… maybe another time though? I’d… like to maybe take you out to dinner.”




Your heart skipped a beat and you felt butterflies erupt inside you, your skin began to buzz, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop from grinning like an idiot.




You pretended to consider it for a moment, and eventually nodded. “Okay. Yeah I’d like that.”




You had no idea that that would be the start of the absolutely whirlwind that was your relationship with Colter.




———————————




- Present Day -




Since the incident at the bakery, you couldn’t get Joe to return your calls or texts. It had been a week and as you sat in your usual spot at in the warm, cosy shop surrounded by nothing but cheerful smiles of blissful patrons, you were filled with nothing but dread as the minutes ticked by, and you wondered if Joe would show.




Every stranger that walked through the door had your head whipping up in anticipation, only to let out a defeated sigh of disappointment when you realised it wasn’t Joe.




You’d finished your second anxious cup of coffee and were about to call it a day, but as you stood to leave you felt a soft tap on your shoulder.




You turned and grinned.




“Joe.” You sighed in relief at the sight of your friend, but this was quickly replaced with guilt as you noticed the two black eyes no doubt caused by his broken nose, as he pulled his sunglasses down.




You wanted to cry but instead clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your whimper, “I’m so sorry. I should have told you.” You whispered when you eventually managed to.




You reached a hand out to touch his arm sympathetically, but Joe pulled back as if you were trying to burn him with a hot iron.




Joe looked hesitantly at you, like he shouldn’t even be near you. You couldn’t help the hurt look on your face at first, but you quickly straightened up and reminded yourself it wasn’t his fault.




Joe sighed and shook his head sadly, “I… I just wanted to come and say goodbye in person.” He said, his eyes not quite reaching yours.




“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows creased together in confusion, “You’re not meant to finish your project until next June.”




Suddenly Joe made eye contact, but he looked angry. His bloodshot eyes felt almost accusatory. “They came to my apartment, Y/N. They kicked down my door. I should never have gotten involved with you. I never would have if I knew what I do now.”




You flinched, this revelation made you feel like you’d just been kicked in the chest, you felt so guilty but you also felt hurt.




“I… I’m sorry.” You struggled to say the words, you wanted to scream and sob at the same time. You were so angry at Colter, and so hurt by Joe. “But why did you come and say goodbye if all of that is true?”




Joe sighed, “Because I did get involved and I got attached. You’re the only friend I have here, I couldn’t go without saying goodbye, and God knows how much I’m risking just by being here.”




You nodded, you understood Colter had eyes everywhere, the last thing you wanted was Joe getting hurt again because of you.




Suddenly Joe pulled you into a hug, and you felt taken aback, startled almost.




“Thanks for being there for me these last few weeks, I really am gonna miss you. Maybe I’ll see you in another life.” He drawled, before letting go and swiftly leaving the bakery.




You stood there for a while in shock, unable to comprehend how Colter could do this to you.




If he really loved you as much as he claimed to, why was he doing this?




Suddenly you realised all the eyes in the room were on you and hushes voices gossiped about the commotion you always seemed to cause, heat pooled in your cheeks and anger began to bubble.




You snatched up your bag and stormed out of the bakery.




The entire drive had you replaying the incident with Colter in your head, and the look on poor Joe’s face, and you were just getting more and more angry.




You parked the car outside the all-too-familiar home that you called yours for over 5 years and sat behind the wheel for a moment. You tried to calm yourself, breathing through the tremors and gripping the steering wheel, but it was no use and the fury was now uncontrollable.




You got out of the car and stormed up the long, winding path to the front door of the manor, where your fist slammed angrily against the cold wood.




You could hear the echoes of your knocking on the inside, followed by footsteps against the hardwood floors you’d spent countless hours picking out years ago.




The door flew open and Colter stood, surprised, and shirtless in front of you. He was sweaty, panting, his hair wild, and you knew he’d been hitting his punching bag as he so often did when he was upset.




You scowled at him, how dare he be upset, he had no right.




You slammed both hands down on his bare chest as you pushed your way inside.




“How DARE you?!” You screamed, your hands now curled into fists against his broad chest.




Colters hands moved up to curl around your wrist, holding your hands in place. “What?” He asked, exasperated. This only pissed you off more.




You scoffed, “What? What? What do you mean, ‘what?’?!”




“I mean why are you so fucking pissed off?!” He raised his voice slightly to match yours.




“I’m beyond pissed off at this point, Colt! You had no fucking right to do that to Joe! This is MY life, my friend, do you have any idea how hard it is to make friends in a town that is terrified of you?” You were now gritting your teeth, Colter had never seen you like this before and a pang of guilt shot through him.


But he was not going to show it, “I don’t care, Y/N. He was after you, and you’re mine. I know for a fact you still love me, so don’t think for a second I’m gonna let anyone take you from me.” His voice was loud, stern, and he towered over you.




“Have you ever stopped to think that if you keep going the way you’re going I may eventually fall out of love with you, Colt?” You tried to pull your hands from his grip, and although he was gentle, your hands weren’t moving.




“No because I know you, Y/N, and I know our love. That isn’t something that just goes away, no matter how unhappy you are with what I do!” He shook your hands slightly with frustration, his eyes now pleading for you to admit what he knew to be true.




You took a small step back as you looked into his steely blue eyes, “You smug bastard. You really do think so highly of yourself.” You breathed out in exasperation.




“All you’re doing is delaying the inevitable, and I am fucking miserable without you. You and I both know you’re coming come at some point, please just save us both the pain and come home now.” His voice had softened considerably now, and he finally released your hands which fell limply to your side. You knew he was right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it yet. You had told yourself you would at least try to get over him.




“No… this time you don’t get what you want.” You said softly, deflated, the anger now simmering away to sadness.




You turned and walked out the door, wondering how you would ever get over this man who had an iron grip over you.




You got halfway down the drive when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and spin you around.




The next thing you knew, Colters arms were around your waist and his lips were planted on yours. You gasped softly, at the familiarity, but also how different it felt to all those times before.




You melted against him for a second, your hands resting on his still sweaty chest, and allowed yourself just a moment of bliss before you pushed away and shook your head.




“Just… leave me alone.”




Without looking back you walked to your car, got in and drove out of the estate you once called home.




As you drove you looked back in the rear view mirror, at Colter as he watched you leave.




Something deep inside you told you that you were making a huge mistake, but you were too stubborn to listen to it.




——————————




- 6 Years Earlier -




You buzzed with anticipation and nerves as you finished getting ready for your date with Colter.




The weather was dreadful, and torrential rains uncommon for that time of year had flooded the cold, dark streets outside, but you were determined to make it to town for your date no matter what.




You smoothed out your brand new dress and checked yourself in the mirror for the 10th time.




You looked perfect, but you felt so nervous that you had to check again before you eventually made it to the front door.




You gave Tank a fuss as you left and were suddenly overcome with guilt for leaving him on his own for the first time, however this was luckily short lived as he happily curled up on the couch and went straight to sleep.




You sighed as you stepped out onto the front porch and opened your umbrella, your cab had just pulled up but the short distance between your home and the sidewalk was sure to drench you unless you had some sort of cover.




“Evening ma’am.” The older gentleman answered as you climbed in and shook off your umbrella before rolling it back up. “You off on a date?”




You smiled, “Yeah, is it that obvious?”




The gentleman smiled, “Not overly, but you do seem nervous.”




You made small talk all the way into town and paid the driver, getting your umbrella ready before you opened the door.




“Have a good night ma’am, you be safe now.” He said as you climbed out of the cab and back out into the bad weather.




You thanked the driver and walked down a side street towards the restaurant.




As you approached you noticed Colter standing outside. He wore a slightly unbuttoned white shirt and blue jeans, his short hair speckled with rain drops and obviously getting very wet without an umbrella as he waited for you, soggy flowers wilting under the pressure of the heavy droplets.




You laughed in surprise as you walked up to him. “What are you doing?” You gasped.




A huge grin spread across his face as he noticed you approaching him, “Waiting for you.”




As you got closer you noticed how his clean pressed white shirt stuck to him, his toned chest on display as the material turned translucent.




You pulled your eyes away, “Why didn’t you wait inside?” Your mouth slightly agape in shock. “You must be freezing!”




Colter, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice the cold, and couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “You look… incredibly beautiful.” He breathed, ignoring your question.




You felt yourself blush, but you needed to maintain your composure even though he made you feel like melting right in front of him. You stepped forward so that Colter was under the protection of your umbrella.




“Here, before you get completely drenched.” You smiled up at him. Too late, you realised, but you liked standing this close to him.




You tried not to actually touch him, teetering on the absolute outer edge of the umbrellas protection.




“Well… I don’t think we can go in there while you’re…damp.” you gestured at the fancy restaurant and then at Colter. “I think I know a place we can go and dry off for a while.”




Colter nodded and bit the inside of his cheek, “Lead the way.” He chuckled.




You lead Colter down another dark little side street and through a courtyard, where a soft cosy light lit up the cobblestone from a window that beckoned you, the smell of basil and tomatoes compelling you to follow. It was a tiny Italian restaurant that you had frequented over the years, nothing fancy but the food was some of the best you’d ever had.




You looked up at Colter to explain why you’d picked this place, but you were surprised to see that he was already staring longingly down at you. “What?” You asked in surprise.




Colter shook his head, and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, “Nothing, it’s just… every time I think I have you figured out, you go and do something that makes me realise I probably never will.”




“What do you mean?” You chuckled, shivering slightly under his touch.




“Most girls would insist on the fancy dinner, the nice restaurant, they wouldn’t adopt the biggest, bounciest dog from the shelter, or go out to a club they hated just to make their sister happy, they’d probably be put off that I didn’t think to bring an umbrella-“ you cut him off by grabbing his hand with your free one as you stood in front of the little restaurant.




“Let’s get one thing straight, if you’re going to date me you will realise pretty quickly that the only thing I give a damn about is whether or not you’re a good person, I don’t need fancy… I need real.”




Colter grinned and nodded, “So we’re dating then, huh?”




You rolled your eyes playfully, “Hmm… barely.” You joked.




He took your other hand and gently removed the umbrella from your grip, the heavy rain quickly drenching you as you gasped at the feeling and began to laugh. Colter threw the umbrella onto the cobblestone, and wrapped a strong arm around your waist, pulling you into him.




“What are you doing?” You asked, your heart thudding violently against your rib cage.




“I’m making us even.” He gestured with a nod to your wet hair.




You breathed out a nervous laugh as Colter bent down and pressed his lips against yours, and you felt like the air was sucked from your lungs.




His lips were gentle, but the kiss was purposeful and eager. His hand came up to cup your jaw and you sighed into him, giving yourself into the feeling.




Eventually you pulled away, the raindrops trickling down your back causing you to shiver.




Colter smiled adoringly down at you, “How about we get inside?”




————————————

- Part 4 Here -

[captainuranium543]

Hi! I just wanted to know your thoughts on this post here: https://www.tumblr.com/yamishika/761491771751596032/something-that-has-been-bothering-me-regarding-the

Do you agree with this? Disagree with this? Was this just a light comedic moment? It def feels out of character for Jellal to a large degree. You have such great takes on Erza in general, that I wanted to check about this. I tried looking at your posts (now that I have better cell service) and didnt see this on your posts list. Apologies if you’ve covered it already. Thanks in advance!

the post in question^

thanks so much for this ask actually cuz I have been resisting the urge to yap about this forever and now I have an excuse ahaha.

honestly I completely agree, I've been saying it forever but as fairy tail has gone on Mashima has kind of stopped putting as much thought into it has he did early on. Early on the characters where the center of the narrative and honestly I think that's when ft is at its best because that has always been the best part if ft as a whole. The tower of heaven and the trauma Erza and Jellal faced along with countless others had so much impact on the story as late as season 6 because of just how massive a tragedy it was.

starting with Erza and Kiria, it feels especially disgusting for this to happen to specifically Erza because she has spent so much of her life being treated as less then human already. In the tower her purpose was literally to work herself to death, they needed sacrifices and lots of them. As soon as she wasn't useful to them anymore she would killed without a second thought and her life would only be another number added to the massive death toll of the r system project. she wasn't a person in there, she was a tool. Even after the tower she was still under someone else's control (on a leash you might say) with Jellal holding the lives of her friends over her head to keep her quiet, constantly taunting his power over her by spying on her with seigrain in the magic counsel. this is exactly what happens with Kiria and it feels genuinely horrifying to see it happen again but still its just played for fanservice and I find that incredibly irritating.

as for the Erza vs Jellal fight in the Aldoron arc, here we have a scene that is objectively horrifying to both of them. Erza and Jellal share INTENSE trauma associated with mind control and the loss of free will, and yet the scene is played for laughs and fanservice.

I do understand why Hiro did this, if they took the scene seriously it would probably set Jellal right back into his old ways again of avoiding Erza like the plague which he doesn't want because he's trying to push them closer together. I get that but its still feels like such a missed opportunity to give them some kind of emotional development which neither has had in so long. I'm gonna get into my own idea for the fight here so bear with me.

The fight begins and they intercut it with flash backs to the tower of heaven arc, or even further back to their actual childhood, showing how genuinely afraid of him Erza is right now while also trying to control herself and keep her "fight" instinct at bay because she doesn't want to hurt him. the fight from her perspective should be chaotic, rapidly throwing her between past and present while she desperately tries to hold onto a sense of reality and remind herself its not him.

now imagine this, at some point she loses control and really starts to spiral and he gets the upper hand. she's totally beaten and exhausted after trying to fight him and her demons at once and while she's on the ground he approaches her, lifts her up, and we get a call back to this scene.

throughout this fight we never really see Jellal's face, its mostly been from Erza's perspective and when we do see his face its a flashback to a different time while he was mind controlled. Now in the present jellal says something, idk what he would say exactly, but its something similar to the "it was the color of your hair" moment where it reminds Erza of something he said to her while he was himself. Erza finally snaps back to reality, she looks down at him and we finally get a clear view of his face in the present, and we see that he's crying.

that is enough to fully snap Erza back and finally give the fight her all, because its not just for her sake its for both of them. he would never forgive himself if he hurt her so she's going to have to be the one to do it even if it hurts because its the only way she's going to save him. and more than anything she wants to save him. (Again, call back to the tower of heaven, she was to late to save him then and it weighs on her to this day, she wont be to late this time.) anyway fight ends shortly after that she knocks him out and she's crying because obviously she never wanted to hurt him either she's just taking one for the team (like always but that's another rant). Just before Jellal passes out he looks at her and he thanks her for saving him (ONCE AGAIN CALL BACK TP THE TOWER OF HEAVEN but this time its not manipulation he's being fr showing us that its really him now). he passes out, erza gets up, looks back at him maybe one last time, says shes sorry, then goes off to go keep fighting. fight over

case and point I think this could have been sick as hell and i'm sad it didn't happen. its not that I have a problem with fanservice I just think it should be tasteful at least a little.

[jackseverywhere]

Wanna know one of my hc for Johnny Fiama that is also kinda crack ship ?

I thought about that months ago lol I think it came up because at that time Johnny and Lips were my beloveds and it would be fun to show that at some point they tried to have something but it was so catastrophic that they didn’t go past the two dates.

Around 2005 Johnny wanted to formally come out to the media as Bi. So walking around some bars he met Lips, playing solo on stage, y´ know, because in those years he was apart from the band. Johnny asked him for a duet, bought him drinks and offered to accompany him to his apartment, holding hands.

And seem idyllic… but it was only in theory! Despite having many things in common, Johnny and Lips didn’t have any chemistry. Mainly because Johnny was more focused on attracting some paparazzi than on his date. And on Lips' part because he agree to accompany the man because, deep inside, his calm voice and bearing of Frank Sinatra slightly reminded him of Zoot, finding that in fact, they are nothing alike.

To Johnny’s fortune, a paparazzi saw them just as they left the bar, making sure to squeeze Lips' hand, a little too hard and smile at the camera. Now, Lips doesn't mind being seen holding hands with Johnny Fiama, let alone with a man, but someone putting a camera with a flash straight in his face, naturally.

Well, if the date was so terrible, why did they go out again? Easy, once Johnny got the exclusive he wanted, he went back to being the flirty man we know, so Lips decided to give them another chance.

Somehow the second date was worse! They met in Johnny’s apartment and every topic they decided to talk about just made their differences more obvious for the worse, making everything uncomfortable. Stuff like:

They said goodbye that day, with the silent promise of never seeing each other again. Although I find it funny to think that Johnny actually refers to Lips as his ex, even though they only had two dates. Because Lips is a beauty and it’s always cool to have such an attractive ex.

But they met again 16 years later, during the filming of The Muppets Haunted Mansion.

Both were surprised to see the other on the set, as they never actually knew that the two were part of The Muppets; Lips, because during the time he was away from the band he decided not to know anything about The Muppets and Johnny…simply because he is distracted.

So Johnny decided to say hi to Lips, friendly:

But hey, some things changed at Lips… he came back with the band!

And yes, The Electric Mayhem and Johnny Fiama already knew each other, they worked together on several Muppet projects. Even so, Johnny never knew that Lips was part of the band.

During the breaks both talked a lot about many things, so Johnny found out that Lips already had a relationship with someone in the band, getting a ¨yes¨ to each member when he ask who it was. Their conversation flowed great this time, even Johnny was somewhat disappointed that Lips already had a relationship (or so he thought, he didn’t quite understand).

But Lips and the band invited him to hang out with them, even after the recording. Lips and Johnny agreed to call themselves ex´s to the media, only to generate gossip.

...And Sal? Hahahaha WELL! Sal was there all the time and always knew Johnny’s intentions. Sal looked after him in the distance always, he wasn’t going to let Johnny walk alone at night on unknown streets! also Johnny and Sal live together, he could hear through the walls that awkward date. Although he is the first to mock the fleeting infatuation of his best friend, he accompany him during the duel, even buy him ice cream.

And that is all! I thought about this months ago and the memory came to me because someone asked about hc of Johnny, a post that I plan to do later, but I wanted to expand on this silly point separately. Thanks if you read so far, you just read a long crackship fanfiction xd