#(again these are my two cents and my approach to it)

[saiyanandproud]

18 and 19? Those things can go hand in hand sometimes.

Munday Mumbling Asks

18. shipping / 19. smut

So, I will put them under the same reply as yes, they do kinda go hand in hand. Long answer, so I put it under the cut.

I tend to be multiship, which is the reason why I keep each thread on their verse to allow each story to unfold indipendently and give more leeway to creativity on both ends. I do also like to entwine threads when possible, but when I do, I always make sure to ask both mutuals if they are fine about it, and involve them in the plotting accordingly.

This being said, sometimes a ship does become so relevant to my muse's personal story and development that they do tend to 'stick' in their main verse, or somehow influence it. E.g., before Nucleotide (by @viopolis) was involved, Mariko had a massive one-sided crush on Fu (played by an old mutual of mine) which played a lot on her insecurities and protective instinct. It came with such a good writing chemistry between me and this old mutual that it just happened to shape the way I viewed my character, and gave me a lot more insight on her. A real treat. So now, despite said mutuals not being around to write here anymore, I still write Mariko has having this old crush in her past from when she was younger. So, when I started interacting with @the-demonpr0digyy's Fu, we discussed the matter (I felt their Fu deserved to be treated as an individual muse, and yay, multiverse and Conton allow many of this stuff to happen!), and it offered the whole opportunity of writing Mariko's hesitant approach towards their Fu with this mix of nostalgic bitterness and unfairness, because she knows it's not the same Fu, but a scar from the past can still burn. To put it shortly, I think it all comes down to the usual two elements that are an absolute must in RP -- flexibility and communication. I've seen that most of the fun I had with writing, and with writing ships too, came from keeping an open mind, and turning what could seem an obstacle ("Oh no! Mariko already had a crush on another Fu!") into an opportunity for character growth and unique interactions ("Did Mariko really outgrow her broken heart? And how would another muse feel as being treated with certain predjudices by her without knowing where these feelings come from?").

So yeah, ships are fun for many reasons. They offer angst and comfort. But like any storyline and any relationship, they need to be fed with ideas and opportunities, otherwise they can turn stale.

Smut is the same. I can consider writing it (but I need to be super comfortable with the other mutual and I prefer agreeing on how far it goes) but much like fight threads, it has to be plotted. How does it start? Where can it go? How will it end (yes, it has to end at some point) and what does it leave for our muses and their relationship? Does it test their strengths? Does it improve trust, does it undermine it?

In general, I consider smut a narration tool rather than a writing genre, something that can advance the plot but has to extinguish its purpose at some point. If it doesn't, it might just feel stagnant after a certain point, and thus boring, forced, and even kinda poisonous for the ship chemistry and the fun in writing it. It's good in the right doses, like violence and anything else. At least in my records.

Of cours all of this applies to threads and plotting. Any silly ask sent in for sinday and dash shenanigans are treated much more lightheartedly because I consider them as separate from actual plots, unless otherwise discussed.

[zvaigzdelasas]

Iran is now a “legitimate target” for Israeli missile strikes, one of the country’s most senior ministers has told the Telegraph, raising the prospect of an all-out war with Tehran.

In a wide-ranging interview, Nir Barkat, Israel’s economy minister, also said Palestinians from the West Bank would never be allowed to work in the country again and would be replaced by more than a quarter of a million imported foreign workers.

He also complained that the war in Gaza had not been fought aggressively enough.

Mr Barkat, who is favourite to succeed Benjamin Netanyahu as leader of the ruling Likud party, said Israel could afford to keep fighting and open up a new front with Lebanon, despite the billion shekel (£200 million) a day cost of the conflict.

He said that as “big as the crisis is, it is also a really big opportunity”, with governments around the world needing Israel’s technical expertise to combat global jihadism.[...]

The risk of the war spreading to Lebanon and as far as Iran will alarm Western leaders, with Mr Barkat becoming increasingly influential in the ruling party.

Polls suggest the economy minister would win five more seats than Mr Netanyahu if he replaced him as Likud’s leader.

Mr Barkat, 64, said: “Iran is a legitimate target for Israel. They will not get away with it. The head of the snake is Tehran. My recommendation is to adopt the strategy that President Kennedy used in the Cuban missile crisis. What he basically said then was a missile from Cuba will be answered with a missile to Moscow.[...]

Israel is edging towards a full-blown war with Hezbollah in southern Lebanon, having evacuated the north of the country. Mr Barkat said a second war was affordable while “the threat of Hezbollah must be eliminated”.

“Whatever it takes,” he said[...]

The economy is expected to grow by two per cent this year, down from five per cent forecast prior to the war.[...]

As the country lurches to the Right in the aftermath of October 7 and with Mr Netanyahu’s personal ratings plummeting, Mr Barkat appears to be making a play to replace the prime minister as party leader.[...]

Mr Barkat rejected any suggestion that Palestinian labourers, who previously came into Israel daily to work in the construction and other industries, would be allowed to return. Daily crossings for labourers into Israel from the West Bank have been on hold since October 7.

He likened the Palestinian Authority running the West Bank to the Hamas leadership in Gaza.

“You know what the difference is? Nothing,” said Mr Barkat. [...]

Israel has long been reliant on workers coming into the country from Gaza and the West Bank, but Mr Barkat, whose ministry is responsible for the construction industry, said: “We are done with Palestinian employees. The rationale behind it is very simple: we only want foreign employees from peaceful countries. We don’t want employees from enemies.[...]

India is the likeliest target for a recruitment drive with the promise of wages seven to ten times higher than at home. “Everybody wins,” said Mr Barkat.

“If you don’t do what I proposed, it’s as if we didn’t learn the lessons of October 7.”[...]

On the conduct of the war in Gaza and in the face of international condemnation of Israel’s tactics, Mr Barkat said: “Israel is being very cautious[...]

The reality is at certain points in time I prefer a much more aggressive approach.”[...]

["]This is a religious war.” [he said]

24 Jan 24

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

As love and its Decisive Pain

Main Masterlist

I had some thoughts and had to write them down, so here we are.

Title inspo

Contains: Fluff, loving husband Ray, impact play with a flogger, bondage, smut (fingering, sex toys, P in V) aftercare. Not beta read.

2.1K words

Ray goes shopping

The narrow, cobbled stone street was one of Ray's favourites. The area, which was once a red light district back when the Thames was filthy and a loaf of bread cost a few cents, still had an illicitness about it, like the pleasure and vice still lingered in the air. Up an old set of poorly lit steps and left through a glass door into a store with walls lined with goods that would make The Marquis De Sade blush.

"Mr Smith, good to see you again. I was just about to call you about a new piece." Mavis, the woman at the counter, ducked down and produced a long black flogger with the strangest handle he had ever seen. "It came in yesterday. Nice thudy fall with no sting, and the handle," she handed to Ray as he approached the bench. "It's muti use."

The handle was made of the smoothest metal he had ever felt and it took up the heat of his hand like it was enchanted. "How much."

Mavis smiled. "For you, five hundred." He slid the money across the counter as she packed it in a fancy black box. "Anything else today?"

He shook his head. "No thank you, Ma'am. Pass my compliments onto the Leatherworker, they did some wonderful work." He left with a wave and a smile on his face, tonight was going to be delightful.

Ray did his best to fight back his smile as he walked into his home library. You were sitting, curled up on his favourite chair by the window and flashed him a warm smile when you set eyes on him. "Hello Dearest, I wasn't expecting you until six."

He smiled. "Micky let me off early. I got you something." He took the box from under his arm and placed it on the table. "I think you'll like it."

You took your time opening it, untying the ribbon before pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion, Beloved, I just wanted to get you something nice." He sat next to you and pressed his lips to the side of your face. "Do you like it?"

You removed the flogger from the box and ran your fingers through the many tails. "Oh yes, I love it. Thank you." You placed your hand on his cheek and kissed him. "Can we use it tonight?"

He grinned against your lips. "Of course."

You return your attention to the implement in your hand; the hilt was odd, it was longer than any others you owned, with two sections separated by a guard, it was only when you took a closer look at the pommel that it registered. "Oh, that's interesting."

His beard scratched your skin as his teeth nipped your ear. "I thought so too." He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and kissed you as his hand slid up your shirt, only when you were breathless did he pull away to speak. "I'm going to cook you dinner, then you're all mine."

The bedroom was pleasantly warm, as were Ray's hands as he undressed you. "You remember what to say if you want to stop?"

You nodded. "Poppy."

He smiled. "Good girl." The rope he looped around your wrists so he could tie you to the bed posts was soft, each knot made carefully for your comfort. There was enough tension so that when your legs eventually gave out, you would stay standing, your back remaining a perfect target for him to land every well placed strike.

To anyone outside the room, it must have looked like some lurid facsimile of a crucifixion, you standing naked, your arms spread open with each one tied to a bedpost, but it was one of the most erotic things Ray had ever seen. The brush of leather on your skin was gentle, a mere promise of things to come. "Are you ready, my Darling?"

You took a deep breath. "Yes."

The first few hits were soft, an easy warm up so you could fall into the sensation in relaxed comfort. There was a pause and his eyes met yours as a warm, calloused hand found your back, feeling the growing heat coming off your skin before his voice filled the air, already tight and filled with lust. "Are you ready for more?"

"Please." The next hit wasn't soft and it had your muscles coiling to avoid jolting too much in your bonds. He paused to wait for you to relax before delivering the next one, and the second you stopped tensing, they came in steady succession until he hit a pleasant rhythm that filled the room with satisfying thuds.

When he came around to your front this time, his shirt was rolled up to his forearms, and his pupils had all but taken over the pretty blue of his eyes. "So, do you like it?"

"I do, very much."

He smiled and scratched your heated skin, the feeling mixing with the dull ache of his hits and sending tingles up and down your flesh. "Good. Would you like more?"

You nodded. "Yes please."

He pecked your check before disappearing from view again and the hits began once more. Time grew fuzzy around the edges, like he had wrapped your brain in cotton wool and you fell into the support of the rope like a sailor falls into the safety of a hammock. Eventually he stopped, returning to your side as he ran his hand up and down your back. "I think it's time we move on."

He placed the flogger down for the moment and ducked under your arm so he could stand in front of you. The kiss he took you in was filled with lust and he didn't even give you a moment on control as he nipped your lower lip. He slowly ran his hand down your body, his fingers seeking until they reached your core. "Fucken hell, you're so fucken wet Sweetheart, is this all for me?"

He must have meant for the question to be rhetorical because there was no way you could give him a clear answer when his index finger circled your clit. He watched your face as he slid two fingers inside you, smiling to himself as your expression grew tight with pleasure. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

He pulled away and your eyes popped open, and you watched as he stepped away, making his way to his bedside drawer to collect a bottle of lube. Each movement was full of intention as he picked up the flogger by the bottom part of the hilt below the guard and spread a generous amount of lube on the pommel. The metal was surprisingly cold, given how it felt when you first held it. He rubbed it through your folds and you felt him grab your face with insistent fingers as your eyes drifted closed. "No, don't close your eyes, I want to watch you feel it."

The second your eyes met his, he slid the hilt inside you in one long, persistent push. He paused for a moment to admire the glassiness of your eyes and the way your breath caught in your chest before slowly pulling it out and then using the same slow, steady pace to slide it back in. The smooth steel was unforgiving hard, and guided by Ray, it pressed against your walls in a way that made you feel unbelievably full. He changed the angle so the rounded head of the pommel pressed against our G-spot with each pass and mercifully, he allowed your eyes to close as your head fell against your bicep.

He seemed intent on torturing you, never picking up speed or adding force but something about the unrelenting pressure and hardness of the hilt increased the pleasure growing in your core regardless. He shifted, never letting go of the flogger and you felt him press himself against your back as he resumed fucking you with it. He was hard in his trousers and it seemed the whole scene was affecting him just as much as you as he began to whisper praise in your ear.

Soon enough, Ray's persistence began to pay off and you felt yourself grow closer to the edge, but as your thighs closed around his hand involuntarily, you felt his foot kick at you calf. "Keep your legs open or you'll regret it." There was no force in the kick, it was nothing more than a tap but for a moment, you felt the same level of helplessness that you imagine the men who ran afoul of him felt when he kicked them to the ground.

You planted your feet on the ground and forced yourself to keep your legs still. "I'm sorry."

He smiled and pressed his lips to the back of your neck as he slid his free hand down your body to run your clit. "Hush, just be the good girl I know you can." While the push of the hilt remained languid, his fingers were fast and the juxtaposition was as confusing as it was enrapturing. "Are you going to come for me?"

You nodded. "Yes, if you want me to."

He smiled as his teeth nipped at your shoulder. "Of course I do." All most as if by magic, you fell into bliss as he sucked a mark into your skin. It was wave after wave of intensity while he poured praise over you like you were Venus in the shell. He slowly slid the handle from you, and you heard it thud before he untied you, allowing you to lean your back against his chest as you found your legs. "Can I have you tonight or will it be too much?"

You shook your head. "No, I don't want to stop."

"Good." He took your hand and led you to the side of the bed, pulling back the covers and gesturing for you to lie down while he undressed. The carefulness was a show in itself, each item coming off slowly before being folded and placed down on a chair. He was deceptively large under his clothes and watching his cock spring free as he slid his black boxers down his legs had your mouth watering.

He shot you a cocky grin as he closed the distance and climbed onto the bed, manhandling you until you were lying under him. He leaned down and kissed you, his beard scratching your skin as one hand trailed down your body so he could lift your legs over his waist. He shifted onto his elbow as his hand slid up your thigh then between you, wrapping around his cock so he could line himself up.

He met eyes with you, his expression going soft. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. "Yes please."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he groaned, his hips twitching as he fought to maintain control of himself. "Fucken 'll Love, your cunt could kill a man." His whole body coiled as his hips started to shift, a rhythm that had the head of his cock brushing your G-spot with each stroke. You clung to him, trying to match his pace as he pushed you closer to the edge. After the steel of the flogger hilt, Ray's cock felt positivity molten and the heat of bare skin against yours had a comforting heat spreading from every point of contact.

His words had turned into a hushed prayer, said more to himself than you as he wove a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. "Come on Love, you gotta come for me."

It happened slowly this time, a radiating warmth emanating from his cock, through your core and to the tips of your fingers and toes. His pace picked up as he chased his own high, the hand that was on your clit curling into your hip in a pushing clasp as he neared the edge. He took you in a kiss, equal part loving and rough as you felt him pulse inside you, and his muscles faltered as his hips stuttered and his weight fell on you.

His forehead rested on yours as he caught his breath, gazing into your eyes lovingly as he smiled softly. "Thank you."

You giggled. "Shouldn't I be thanking you?"

He chuckled and rolled off you, bringing you with him as you rested your head on his chest. "No, you are the one that is so ready to give yourself to me whenever and for whatever I ask and I'll always be grateful for that."

You sighed and pressed your lips to his chest. "You're really sweet when you want to be."

He smiled and brushed his fingers over your cheek. "Yeah, well when you're ready I'm going to run you a bath and get you clean up then we can get some sleep. How does that sound?"

You nodded. "It sounds good. I love you Ray."

His lips were soft when he placed them on your forehead. "I love you too y/n."

Fin

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On Your Six

Warnings: dark elements, stalking, violence.

Another sidequest complete (...or maybe you want more of this one? Let me know your thoughts!)

You have a second shadow. You're not alone. While your pursuer has given themself away, you're in no rush to do the same.

You keep going, slinking from pillar to pillar, balancing your target with whoever seems to have made you one. You keep your back to the wall as you grip your pistol, one ear listening ahead of you, the other behind you. You dip back into a pool of darkness and shuffle your foot to make it sound like you're running, let the noise peter off as you wait

A figure smoothly turns the corner and you stand unseen in the alcove. Shit, you know that goddamn strut. Even when he's trying to be covert, he's a dead giveaway.

What the hell is Hansen doing here? This isn't his kind of job. Unless you're his assignment.

You watch him creep past. He slows as he listens to the silence, stopping completely. You raise the barrel of your gun towards him as you tiptoe out from behind the pillar. He hisses into a cackle, raising his hands.

“Take it easy, toots,” he faces you slowly, “we're not enemies here.”

“Aren't we?” You approach with your hand steadied against your forearm.

“I'm just watching your six. Like a nice guy does.”

“Hansen,” you walk to him until you have the barrel to his back, “what the hell are you doing here? I'm not splitting the fee and I have no problem wasting a bullet in your ass.”

“Oh, I love it when you talk dirty,” he gives a dramatic shiver, unfazed by the gun between his shoulder blades.

“This isn't an open bounty,” you snarl.

“Toots, if you're not gonna use that thing, put it away,” he turns to face you slowly, “at least, that's what I've always been told.”

You shake your head and scoff, lowering the gun halfway. You sneer at him in the darkness and huff, “why are you getting in my way? Again.”

“Again? What– are you talking about San Paolo? I'm flattered you remember–”

“I nearly lost an eye.”

“Really? You're looking good, toots–”

You close your eyes and exhale through your nose, “I don't have time for this.”

You sidestep him and continue down the pillared walkway. You keep along the wall and stop as you sense him following once more. You pull back and holster your gun, just as swiftly slipping free your knife. You spin to bring it just along Hansen’s throat.

“I'll tell you one last time,” you hiss.

“I'm helping–”

“I told you, you're not getting a cent.”

“Trust me, honey, the view is worth it–”

“You are–”

“Deranged. Devoted. A total bottom.”

You bite down another snipe as the stone pillar beside you cracks and powder puffs in the air. Fuck. You dip into the shadows as Hansen shoulders past and raises his gun. Two shots before he crams into the alcove next to you

“Really?” You sneer.

“Tight fit, babe, but always figured it would be,” he chortles as he squints into the darkness. “Think I got th–”

Another shot silences him. You wonder if he's hit but don't really care. You duck down and switch out your blade for your fun. You creep along, listening to the approach of those that pest has drawn in.

You weave in and out of shadows, zeroed in on the echoing footsteps. The first silhouette falls before your silenced shot, the second doesn't notice his comrades collapse until it's too late and he joins him on the stone. The third you don't spend the bullet and use the but of your gun against the back of his skull.

You hear a scuff and raise your gun. Hansen waves and pants as he appears once more.

“Got one,” he puffs proudly, “damn, look at that.” He marvels at the bodies heaped around your feet, “you work fast, baby.. I'm more the type to take it slow.”

“Ugh,” you scowl and turn away.

As you do, you hear Hansen barrel towards you. It's too late for you to get your aim. You dodge as best you can as the rifle levels across from you only to be bowled over from behind.

You hit the ground as a shot fires and Hansen grunts. He fires back and the man lands on the rifle with a rattling gasp.

Hansen hisses and drops to one knee, grasping his side as he wheezes. You sit up, check your gun, and stand. He should've stayed away.

You flinch as suddenly a loud thrum cuts the night air. Fuck. You look above as the helicopter rotor whirls loudly. You harumph and kick a body near your feet.

“Fuck.”

“Don't worry, baby, I can take you on a nice vacation, you don't need the bounty,” he sucks in air and stands, “I got you.”

You look at him and scoff. You sneer and bring your gun up, aiming at his ass as you fire. He yelps and falls back down, grasping his rear. You shake your head and mutter.

“Fucker.”

You spin and walk back the way you came. Dimwit better get the hint. Next time you'll aim higher.

“See ya soon, toots,” he calls after you in a strained grit, “probably in my dreams.”

[vixensbrainrotts]

Money, honey - Kokonoi Hajime

Content: imagine

Tropes: Tenjiku! Kokonoi, established relationship, neither Inui siblings exist for sake of convenience (or else there would be immense plot-holes but this is a fanfic so it doesn’t really matter)

Summary: you and Kokonoi having been put in a forced marriage at a young age and being okay with it. Both of you have seen and felt the positive impact you both make not only on your bank accounts but also on each other. yes the relationship you both share is more based on convenience, but he is your husband after all. So when during a Tenjiku meeting he is asked about the single diamond-encrusted ring on his finger, he reveals your existence to them. How convenient is it that you're coming to find him right now, too?

Vixens two cents: hi all! This is something that has been rotting away in my drafts for very, very long time, and since I’m on a streak today (3 posts in a day?!) I’ve decided to give this some daylight too. Let me know what you think of this, and remember that REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! yes, now enjoy the rich and famous!

"Wait Kokonoi, since when do you wear rings?" Rindou asked during a semi-official meeting where his attendance was only half-required. At that question Kokonoi’s faces into an uncharacteristically warm smile, his eyes softening as he said “I’ve always worn this ring, you must have failed to notice it prior..” his voice drifts off dreamily as he started at the diamond encrusted jewelry. Completely bewildered Rindou started to back away from the Financier, making a straight backwards lunge towards his brother.

“Ran.” Rindou nearly whisper-shouted, his voice cracking unattractively, fierce stare still fixed on the suspicious acting Koko. Slightly annoyed due to being interrupted, Ran sighs and turns to face Rindou “What could you possibly wa-“ “fucking emergency. Kokonoi has lost it. He’s gone. Fucking depleted. Only good for the loony bin.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ran questioned, excusing himself from the prior conversation before turning back to his brother. “Look, look. Over there. See that? The way he’s staring at that ring, which might I add I have never seen before?!” Rindou points at the male in question, prompting Ran’s eyes to follow the accusatory finger. And lo and behold, Rindou wasn’t lying. Both the expression and the jewelry Kokonoi wore looked awfully foreign, so soft that it made Ran’s skin crawl in disgust. “What the fuck.” Ran mumbled.

Both Haitanis were fixated on Kokonoi, eyes wide as saucers, hectically darting from his hand to his face and back down to the ring… The softness of his face- his normally cold eyes especially- was a spectacle incomparable to anything that they had ever seen. The brothers share a look, both of their mouths hanging open. „We have to clear this shit up.“ Rindou states and Ran nods in silent response, grabbing his brothers arm, tugging the both of them closer to Kokonoi.

„Hey Koko.“ Ran states, voice coming out slightly more strained than he would have liked. „What’s- whats good?“ Kokonoi didn’t spare them a glance when they approached, keeping his eyes transfixed on the ring on his finger. In desperation, the borthers‘s eyes meet once again, clearly helpless in this situation as they tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

„What do you need from me now, hmm?“ Kokonoi‘s voice was still sickly sweet as he spoke, clearly influenced by the glittering gems in the ring. „Well..“ Ran starts again, a little unsure how to phrase the question lingering on his mind. „So that ring…“ Rindou tries this time. „What about it?“ Kokonoi quips.

It takes everything for Ran to choke out the question, and he thinks this might be the most uncomfortable situation he's ever been in.„Does it have any greater significance?“

The Haitani‘s pathetic try at interviewing the financier were interrupted by a smooth, honeylike voice„Haji?“. Crips and clean it cut through the air, ringing uncharacteristically high in comparison to the low huffs and grunts the Tenjiku hideout normally hears from it's members. The brothers barely have time to register the call before they notice the way that Kokonoi‘s head snaps up, his eyes wide and loving upon hearing the noise.

The hand he was previously so enthralled in drops, falling limply at his side as he focuses on the owner of the voice instead. „Yes?“ his voice is meek and soft when he speaks, lacking the sharp, silver-tongued edge it normally has and rather mirroring the call.

Finally, the brothers turn to look at the voice. As if the world had slowed down around them, their heads turned and met sight with something magical. A woman.

She was coming their way, slowly, confidently taking long strides, the long, open Trench-coat flowing smartly behind you, an invisible wind causing it to billow majestically with every step. The rhythmic click click click of your heels against the floor seemed to hypnotize as neither of them could peel their eyes away.

When they realised that you were coming their way, they scrambled to seem put together. Ran hastily pulled a hand over his hair, haphazardly smoothing down any flyaways, and Rindou straightens his uniform gloves and pushes his glasses up on his nose, forcing his eyes to be sleepy (he thinks it looks sexy).

Once you reach the three though, you dont spare either of them a moment of your time, passing them curtly and walking straight on towards Kokonoi. He in response opened his arms invitingly for you, which you took- giving him a quick side hug and a kiss on the cheek before pulling away and straightening yourself.

Both Haitanis clearly deflated at the display of affection and shared a glance. Whilst this answered some questions the brothers had, a million new ones took their place and zoomed around their brains hectically. Ran (still a little hopeful that perhaps you’re just Kokonoi’s long lost sister) opened his mouth, about to ask of your whereabouts and why you’re here (and what your connection to the financier is but he wouldn’t have asked even if he could).

You beat him to it though. “They want us both to be present during the board meeting, which I find ridiculous, but they specifically reached out to my agent to request both of our presences.” Your hands came up to his uniform as you spoke, smoothing out the collar and brushing off non-existent dust.

Kokonoi’s eyes furrowed in confusion and he looked down as you, one arm still wrapped around your wait loosely, keeping you pulled to his side. “What, aren’t you enough? I think I’d anything at all they should be happy it’s you and not me sitting there. Why’d they want both of us?”

The Haitani brothers watched you discuss as if they were watching a tennis match, eyes flipping left and right to follow the leader of the conversation, only to return back to the other to hear the response. They didn’t have the slightest idea what this was about, but they were oddly intrigued by your very adult-sounding problems.

“Something about co-ownership of our shared title in the board. Not sure why they couldn’t just get a different ambassador to act as triangulation if only one of us would come, but I suppose it’s because of some type of marital regulations that have to be followed.” Your left hand ended up resting on his collarbone, and shiny, glittering jewelry that embezzled your hand glinted in the overhead lights. One item in particular caught the eye upon closer inspection.

The ring.

The same ring that Kokonoi wore sat pretty on your left hand, the white-gold band mirroring his perfectly.

The brothers noticed. They noticed and shared a sullen, rather beat moment of eye contact, grieving the things that could have been. Rindou is shameless enough to butt into your important sounding conversation. “Wait hold on so you’re married?”

You both halted your conversation and turned your heads to face him before turning back to each other. “They don’t know?” You ask Hajime with slightly wide eyes, a voice just above a whisper. He looks back at you, eyes just as wide as he shrugs and whispers back: “No I haven’t told them, sorry sweetheart I hadn’t figured that they’d ever meet you.”

You look at him with an incredulous look, nodding slowly. “Right…” moments of awkward staring passed before both of you sighed. „You or me?“ Kokonoi asked you in a brief whisper, and you whispered back: „You, i did it last time.“

Kokonoi groaned, seemingly remembering the aforementioned ‚last time‘. The brothers shared another look, but chose to remain quiet, silently bidding for him to speak. „We’re bound by a contract strictly immersed in the world of business. What brought us together was a marriage of convenience and mutual agreement of such circumstances. Originally, we were arranged to stay solely engaged, but as we prospered together as an item, we both started seeing the benefits that came not only financially, but also in terms of time management and simple, casual things. So, individually we decided to make it a permanent, and we’re please try surprised by each others willingness to bind ourselves to this contract for life.“

Kokonoi’s voice sounded calm, almost rehearsed, but that was probably due to the frequency of how often both of you probably had to explain this. Despite the monotone nature of the words, his voice still sounded sincere, if not almost sweet at times, as he glanced at you every so often, eyes lighting up for a split second.

Something within the brothers stirred, something unbelievable. They for some reason didn’t doubt the nature and seemingly effortless chemistry between the two of you, and they couldn’t lie and say they didn’t see the way you two looked at one another. It was a complete picture, a stark contrast to the usually silver-tongued, quick-witted, highly calculated individual they knew Kokonoi to be.

No, this Kokonoi was unknown to them. This Kokonoi had a stable relationship- a wife. This Kokonoi has stars in his eyes as he watched you confirm what he said, adding details about how the two of you met. This Kokonoi held your waist softly and squeezed once, twice to remind you of the time, and why you were here in the first place. This Kokonoi whispered to you softly underneath his breath, prompting you to nod and give the Haitani‘s both a quick handshake and a goodbye before turning around in Koko‘s arm and allowing him to drag you off towards the exit.

Rindou took off his glasses and said a quick prayer, hoping that perhaps some day he could be hit with the same stroke of luck that Kokonoi had, and Ran watched as the two of you passed Kakucho, who seemed acquainted with you, and nodded as you exchanged a quick few words, presumably excusing your absence.

Both Haitani’s could tell that the debrief session after this would be juicy, and that they had to get to know you closer. Perhaps you could tag along to the next upper echelon meeting Tenjiku was hosting.

[tinybrooms]

The Beggining - Thomas Hewitt x Fem Reader

Thomas Hewitt (TCM: Beggining) and Female Reader

NOTE: This is my first one shot and it's pretty long, hope you like it, comments and feed back is always welcome.

Summary: Y/N has been the only friend Thomas has had his entire life and he will give his life to protect her when she needs it and after all, they're meant to be.

Warnings: Reader being abused, family being killed, hard lenguage, kill references, slasher content and fluff.

________________________________________________________

Everything was packed and ready to move to Austin, the town had fallen into a decline that there was no possibility of continuing to subsist in the place where you were born and that meant leaving everything behind to start a new life, your mama, a single woman in charge of 3 girls did everything possible to put food on the table, first working as a packer in the old meat factory and then helping Luda Mae at the small gas station, but money was little and they couldn't support two households with the few cents that the drivers left every time they filled up with gas and everything even worse when the pumps ran dry.

You were the oldest of those 3 girls, little Jo Anne was 5 years old while Ella had just turned 11 and was beginning to be a young lady, taking you as an example to combine her clothes and comb her hair as golden as the sun in a cute way.

One day before moving to Austin you decided to make your favorite dessert, some small bonbons filled with cherry jelly, your favorite fruit and you plated them in a nice container to take to the Hewitts' house, you wanted to say goodbye to them for being your second family but Above all, you wanted to say goodbye to Tommy, your best friend for as long as you can remember.

The road to the Hewitt's farm was short but the hot summer sun and the warm afternoon wind made you feel that it had taken you a little longer to reach the residence in the middle of a dry cornfield, your footsteps sounded as they stepped on the leaves and a greeting In the distance made you look towards an old tractor that made more noise than it seemed to move.

-Hello there little one, what'ya doing here? -Old Monty came down, wiping his hands on his pants, approaching you while he adjusted his glasses.

-Hello uncle Monty - you smiled watching him approach, greeting him with your hand - I came to say goodbye before we went to Austin, I brought my favorite dessert for you to eat tonight during dinner

-So you are leaving after all? Little Tommy still doesn't understand that you're leaving, he's been a little out of his mind these days - the old man sighed, putting his hands on his waist, closing his eyes a little for the strong evening sun

-I see…can I go inside? I would like to say goodbye - you looked at him letting out a little air feeling a blow in your chest, you knew that maybe you would never see your best friend again and the man just nodded making a gesture with his hand inviting you to go to the house while he returned to the old tractor

Your steps were slow, nervous and sad until you reached the entrance of the place and opened the screen door that made a peculiar squeak when opened, You left the plate on the kitchen table and wiped your hands on your skirt of your dress walking up the stairs slowly heading to the side of the hallway where you knew Tommy's bedroom was located.

The door was open a little and you could see his big back as he sewed what was apparently a shirt, your hand hit the door slowly making Thomas grunt without looking.

-Hello Tommy…- your voice sounded low and shy but it made Thomas turn around quickly looking at you as you opened the door and walked towards him, smiling and sitting next to him- how have you been? I heard that today was your last day at the meat factory

Thomas looked back at the floor barely nodding returning to his work with the needle and thread on his shirt

-What are you doing? Did you rip another one of your shirts again? -You smiled even though he didn't notice it and carefully took his hands to take the needle and help him - I'll do it for you.

The enormous man, submissive to your touch, let you take the things, looking at you through the strands of his long hair, releasing a sigh that sounded loud due to the obstruction of his mask.

-Do you remember that days ago I told you that tomorrow would be the day we were going to Austin? - You looked at him while you carefully sewed the sleeve of his shirt that covered your entire lap as if it were a blanket, Thomas just turned his face, looking at the other side of the room, clenching his fists, making his knuckles turn white.

- I know you don't want me to move Tommy, but I can't leave mama alone, I have to go with her to work and help her with my sisters - your hands fell into your lap looking at him sadly trying to get him to meet your eyes but he just lowered his head without growling as was his way of communicate - Tommy, don't be sad, we will always be friends, okay? I promise that whenever I can I will come visit you and bring you things from Austin - you smiled at him, taking his hand, making him look at you with his noticeably moist eyes.

After a few seconds looking at you, the huge man pounced on you, hugging you tightly, almost taking all the air out of your lungs, you felt that at any second one of your bones would break but that didn't matter to you, Tommy always gave those strong and wise hugs. You were going to miss him so you enjoyed it, the two of you staying like that for a few minutes until Charlie interrupted yelling from the kitchen with one of his mundane comments.

After a few hours and Luda Mae insisting that you stay for dinner, you went home again with a plate in your hands to take to your family, even though Thomas grunted and insisted on accompanying you home to spend more time together you convinced him that he should stay for reasons that Charlie only knew, you didn't want him to get in trouble so he agreed to stay, saying goodbye one last time with another hug and a kiss on your hair.

The breeze was fresh and the moonlight illuminated the path between the plants and trees that had already been formed from so many times that you and Thomas went or came to each other's house. After a few minutes walking you could see your small house with the lights on but something strange seemed to be noticeable when the door was open, you quickened your step almost running home entering while you looked everywhere noticing objects thrown and broken.

-Mama?…Ella? - You walked between the rooms looking for them, walking between glass and furniture lying on the floor - Mama?

Your steps stopped when you entered the kitchen, throwing the plate that was in your hands causing it to break into a thousand pieces while you tried to understand why your mother and sisters were on the floor unconscious among blood and pieces of clothing, the golden hair of Ella and Jo Anne was dyed a reddish color while your mother had a thin carmine line on her neck where a pool of blood formed, her dress was tangled around her waist and her underwear was missing.

Your steps backwards stopped when you hit your back on a wall, your vision blurred by tears and you could only run outside stumbling through the furniture to run towards the Hewitts' house, your only hope to help you.

It was a few meters ahead when you heard the engine of some motorcycles approaching while screams and shots in the air made you stop in fear, leaving you petrified.

-Well well, where are you going in such a hurry little doll? - A man with a beard and dressed in leather smiled at you, spitting out what looked like tobacco.

You couldn't say anything, your body was shaking and the tears didn't stop coming out of your eyes.

-Can't you talk, darling? The other bitches couldn't stop screaming a while ago and you don't say a word? - the other 2 men laughed while one of them got off his motorcycle, approaching you, pointing a gun at you, making your eyes widen with fear - I won't hurt you, I won't do anything you don't want, you look like a pretty girl, the kind that make cute sounds when they are fucked like the sluts they are

Your moans and cries came out muffled from your throat and your brain forced you to run as the only escape but a strong hand grabbed your hair, pulling you on your back while you screamed and moved your hands and legs trying to defend yourself from the scratchy hands that touched your body.

-Please let me go, I didn't do anything wrong - you screamed while your tears ran down the edges of your eyes, wetting your hair.

-Of course you haven't done anything wrong, little angel, that's why you're not a woman yet - the blonde-haired man laughed, putting his hand under your skirt, touching your between your legs, hurting you - stop moving, damn bitch, - his strong hand hit your cheek leaving you stunned

-Do it quickly, I want some of the slut too- the bearded man ordered as he took your wrists placing them on top of your head.

For you they were hours of agony, between blows, insults and three men abusing you, you lost track of time before falling unconscious among the neglected grass that covered the intruders, it was almost dawn when your eyes opened looking at the dark sky with some rays. of sun about to appear.

Your head hurt, your sore and weak body could barely get up, stumbling making you fall to your knees, your dress was torn causing one of your breasts to be exposed, your private part hurt and burned as if a knife had been stuck in your innocent crotch.

The path that took you 10 minutes to travel became a long trip of almost 40 minutes, your feet barely dragged and your dry mouth made your throat hurt every time you took a breath of air and when you looked at the Hewitt house a sigh came out of you in relief even though you still had to walk the entire driveway.

Luda Mae was walking carefully with a basket of clean clothes that she had recently washed by hand and was preparing to hang them on the clotheslines in the yard when she looked at you walking in the distance, she carefully adjusted her glasses on her sweaty nose and let out a frightened moan when she could recognize your battered form covered in bruises.

-Oh my sweet lord, oh my god - the woman almost screamed, dropping the basket on the floor, walking hurriedly towards you - for God's sake baby, who did this to you?

Your steps continued slowly, your chest rumbled with sobs as you looked at her and felt safe, but as soon as her arms held you, your body vanished, causing the woman to fall next to you on the floor, but not before taking care not to hit yourself.

-Thomas! Thomas, come here - the woman screamed hysterically, making Charlie and Monty quickly leave the house, Charlie still holding his cup of coffee which almost fell to the floor when Thomas rushed out to help his mother, but when he looked at you on the floor between her arms his steps hurried quickly as growls came from his throat.

-Take her inside carefully, son - Luda adjusted your corrupted dress to take care of your little privacy - Lord, have mercy on this poor girl - the woman was praying to herself as she followed her enormous son inside and the two men looked at the scene, frozen, scared of what that they had looked at.

Thomas ignored his mother's instructions and instead of lying down on the sofa in the living room he quickly went up to his room with you in his arms, laying you down on his bed slowly as if you were the most fragile and precious thing that his hands had ever held, his anxiety gnawed away his head looking at you unconscious and covered in wounds and bruises that went from your legs to your face, his growls were loud and aggressive and he didn't calm down until Luda took his arms making him look at her.

-Look at me son, Thomas relax -Luda looked at him tenderly but with a firm voice- this is not the time for you not to listen to me, we must take care of her and know what happened, do you understand? - Her hands went up to his cheeks, calming him a little while his chest rose and fell with an anger that he had never felt, not even the day he was fired from the factory and ended his boss's life.

Luda was in charge of commanding that day, she sent Monty and Charlie to your house to tell you what had happened, but as soon as they arrived and saw the scene, both men knelt down, bowing their heads, while old Monty shed a couple of tears, then After all he was the ''Uncle Monty'' of those little girls and someone had annihilated them, Charlie found a little humanity in his heart and ordered Monthy to find some sheets to cover the bodies of the three women to put them in the truck and take them home where they could give them a decent burial, after all they had been good people with their family and deserved respect.

When the men came home and told Luda what had happened, the woman couldn't help but cry and fall into a crisis when she saw the lifeless bodies of her friend and her little babies, what cruel person had done that to your family? They were the sweetest people in the whole town and they didn't deserve an ending like that.

While the three eldest were arranging everything to respectfully say goodbye to the three ladies, Thomas in his room had already carefully removed your torn dress, to be honest he had often imagined your body when Charlie forced him to watch those obscene movies or told him stories of how girls behaved when he touched them, but this time all his thoughts of desire disappeared when he saw you like that.

A bucket of warm water rested on his nightstand while he carefully cleaned your face with a small damp towel, when he removed all the dirt from your face, he could notice your broken lip and the bump on your cheek that was beginning to heal dyed purple, his hand slowly went down your neck cleaning and then carefully passing the towel between your breasts, your chest rose and fell slowly with your calm breathing, Thomas couldn't help but turn his gaze when he saw your breasts with scratches Just like your stomach that had red marks on your waist, his head didn't help him, he imagined what had you been suffer alone there and he wanted to kill slowly and painfully the person who had done that to you.

After all his thought's and after cleaning your legs covered in scratches and your injured knees, Thomas slowly separated your legs, squeezing his jaw looking at how your inner thighs had wounds, scratches that looked red on your skin that looked like porcelain, his hand covered In the damp cloth that every now and then he washed in the warm water, he slowly passed over the marks of the attack, as if he were afraid of hurting you even more than they had already done, your small moans of pain made him retreat in fear, but when he looked at your eyes closed without any sign of wanting to wake up, he returned to his tasks until he left you completely clean, then he took a Luda dress that he carefully put on you as if he were dressing a small doll that could break into a thousand pieces if he barely touched it with his big hands, the dress was too big on you but it covered your body and that was enough for him, he didn't want anyone else to look at you, you were his only and he was going to take care of you with his life.

After a few hours the sky had already begun to darken and your eyes tightened as you woke up in a room that you knew very well, you looked at the ceiling and the old closet on the side of the room, the old lamp on the nightstand was on and a blanket covered your legs, the heavy steps in the corridor made you look towards the door with fear, you knew that in that house you were not in danger but your state made you think that at any minute someone was going to attack you again.

But a large figure that covered almost the entire door frame appeared looking at you, releasing a deep sigh as he walked towards you.

-Tommy?…-your eyes moistened feeling safe, he walks to you letting his knees hit the floor next to the bed while his arms surrounded your waist and despite the pain, your arms surrounded his shoulders while you cried, hiding your face in his neck.

Not long after, Thomas looked at you with his frown, he was angry, more than that, you had never seen him this upset, his hand slowly touched your cheek over the bump and then pointed towards his chest, you knew what that meant, ''who was the one who make you this?'' cause he would be in charge of making them pay.

-I don't know who those men were, Tommy, but they hurt my family, I know that they were the ones who hurt my little sisters and mama - your voice was broken with your crying, his hand touched your face while his breathing sounded heavy - they were …motorcyclists, one had a beard, another was blonde, they were all dressed in leather - your eyes followed his enormous form as he stood up, turning quickly towards the door but your hand did not let go of his, making him stop - Tommy?…what? are you going to do?

He looked straight into your eyes, the blue of his eyes had disappeared, they were black and deep, you had never seen them that way, he just let go of your hand slowly and rushed out, making his heavy footsteps sound as he lowered the stairs.

After a few minutes Luda came up with a tray with tea and a plate of warm food, it looked like stew and smelled good but your stomach hurt from the blows you had received so you barely ate while the woman brushed your hair slowly with her fingers looking at you tenderly.

-Luda…where did Tommy go? - You looked at her curiously while you drank some iced tea that made your throat feel fresh.

-Tommy loves you too much, he would do everything possible for you to make you happy, you know? -She looked at you over her glasses while her hand stopped.

-I know, I would do the same for him but I'm not as big and strong as Tommy is, he takes care of himself and he also takes care of me.

-You're wrong about that honey, he is strong on the outside, my boy was blessed with a huge body that can intimidate anyone who stands in front of him, but on the inside my boy is just a pure soul who doesn't know how to deal with this horrible and disgusting world where we live, that is where you come to protect him, your heart and courage makes my Tommy feel safe and continues to be the strong and brave boy that he is

A small smile formed on your face thinking that you were very lucky to have Thomas in your life, everyone had always been cruel to him, they made fun of his poor ability to speak and his skin was always so sensitive and no one understood it, just You and that was enough, you had gotten used to only having Tommy's attention and affection for you that you wouldn't know how to deal if someone else took a little of his attention away.

That night Thomas did not come home, you spent most of the night looking at the door waiting to see him arrive but he never showed up, only the sound of the crickets and the wind coming through the window accompanied you and little by little you fell asleep between the blankets with its aroma.

It was early in the morning when you heard some murmurs and an argument downstairs that made you wake up.

-You can't do that, you don't know how she's going to take it, she's going to run away from here and accuse us, we would have to kill her too, is that what you want, damned idiot? - you could recognize Charlie's voice from his screams

-Stop calling him that way, he is not an idiot and he knows what he is doing-Luda shouted.

-Thomas, come here you damn bastard - Charlie shouted as loud footsteps went up the stairs that then became light as they approached the room.

There was Thomas, covered in blood, looking at you from the door, when he saw that you were awake, lowering his head thinking about what he would do but also thought if Charlie was right.

-Tommy?…why are you covered in blood? they hurt you? - Your hands rested on the bed, sitting up as fast as the pain allowed, he just shook his head and looked at you again, approaching - Are you okay?

Again his knees rested on the floor next to you while his blue eyes looked at you and his huge hand took yours carefully, his free hand rested on his chest pointing with his finger.

-You? -His hand moved slowly towards you, touching the center of your chest with his finger- me? - He nodded shyly taking both your hands in his, kissing both palms on the mask - I know you wouldn't hurt me, Tommy, you don't have to explain it to me.

He looked at you with relief and stood up offering you his hand to stand up, but when you tried, your sore knees felt like they were melting, making you stumble, Thomas holding you quickly and carefully by your waist.

-I'm fine Tommy… I just…- Thomas didn't let you finish your sentence when with his arm he held the back of your knees lifting you up making your arms quickly surround his neck in fear of falling.

His steps were delicate as he left the room and went down the stairs, three pairs of eyes looked at you, questioning his that you going down was the right thing to do, but Thomas cared little and continued on his way to the basement door.

The place was cold and damp, the walls surrounding the stairs had scratch marks and you could notice a couple of nails stuck in the cement, Thomas walked towards what looked like a work table and carefully sat you in a chair as he walked to a coat rack and took an old apron covered in red stains and put it on him.

-Tommy?…- He didn't pay attention to you for a few seconds, searching for something with his eyes until he took an electric chainsaw from a tool table and walked towards you, taking you again with one of his arms, walking to a place behind a shelf full of jars and he sit you delicately on a wooden table

You could notice three figures hanging from what seemed to be a nail where the animals were hanging in the slaughterhouse and when your eyes adjusted to the darkness you could notice the three men who had attacked you hanging from their tied hands, one of them moaning as they others were unconscious

Your hands quickly covered your face, fear took over your body when you looked at them, feeling the fear of being attacked again but Thomas approached you, took your hand and your scared eyes looked at him while your hands trembled.

-It's them Tommy…it's them - your voice hurts whispered the words when Thomas gently removed his hand and touched your face and then looked at the men, then his hand delicately touched your lap, caressing your wounds over the fabric of the dress and point at the men looking into your eyes - it's… him - your hand pointed at the bearded man

Thomas quickly walked away from you, pulling the motor of the chainsaw hard, turning it on with just two attempts to start it and with both hands he lifted it closed to the man, placing it on the crotch of the bastard who abused your innocence cutting him in half until he reached his neck.

Drops of blood jumped everywhere, Thomas was covered in it and you could feel the warm liquid wet your face.

You couldn't believe what you saw, but you couldn't believe that a feeling of fear didn't take over inside you, you had seen Thomas murder a man but inside you the only thing you felt was satisfaction and a small flight of butterflies, your Tommy, he had spent the entire night looking for the men who harmed his precious girl and was making them pay.

After finishing the first, Thomas looked at you with heavy breathing, he didn't need to say a single word, his eyes spoke for his and you understood his language perfectly

-Him too, Tommy…- you pointed at the blonde man and then touched your chest over the scratches that made your skin look swollen, Thomas didn't think twice when he lifted it again, closed it and moved it over the man, cutting his legs, his waist, his arms making him fall on the wet floor while he screamed in agony and then cut his head, the other man did not seem to react but he was not going to let him leave in peace, so he did the same with him and cut him in half When he finished his work he turned off the chainsaw and walked towards you, leaving it at your side to clean his hands wet with blood on his apron that was equally dirty and wet.

Your heart was beating fast, you were not afraid of Thomas, you did not feel in danger nor did you feel disgusted by him, on the contrary, it seemed that by seeing him perform the sickest actions he had finished convincing you of what you had begun to suspect years ago, what you felt was a deep and true love for the one who had done everything to heal you and defend your dignity.

-You did very well Tommy - you smiled at him, placing your hands on his cheeks over the mask, his blue eyes were so calm that it didn't look like he had finished with three men a few seconds ago, his forehead rested on yours while your fingers caressed his slow hair - thanks for taking care of me

He just gave a light growl as he hugged you around the waist, he wasn't going to let anyone else touch his little cherry, not even the sun could hurt your skin because he would be able to do anything to destroy it.

That afternoon and after Monty had spent the entire previous day making three graves in the back garden, Charlie, Luda, Thomas and you went out to say goodbye to your family, Luda had picked a couple of flowers in the front garden and Charlie surprised you when with his worldly mouth he said some beautiful words to say goodbye to your mama and your little sisters, Tommy never left your side, he was holding your hand, making sure your fragile legs did not collapse and make you fall.

-Well, all that remains us to say welcome to the family y/n, it will be a pleasure for us if you are a Hewitt, what'ya think? -Charlie approached you while Thomas worked hard to cover the graves with the dirt he threw with a shovel.

-Charlie… you shouldn't say that, it's so sudden.- Luda Mae looked at him, scolding him. She knew he wouldn't last long without saying an injudicious comment and she wasn't wrong.

-It's okay, Moma - you smiled at Luda, holding the small flowers waiting to put them on the graves. - It will be a pleasure for me to share Tommy's last name

-You see, mom - Charlie smiled, chewing his tobacco - our Tommy will be happy honey, welcome to the family

You barely placed the small flowers on the three graves and caressed the wood signs where the names of your family could be read, Tommy took your hand, caressing it carefully, with pain in your back you hug him, your arms were barely able to surround his torso as you continued reading over and over again the name on the wood that functioned as a tombstone.

-Do you think it's okay that I'm a Hewitt Tommy? - You raised your head looking at his eyes despite the rays of sun that crossed his long locks of hair, he just looked at you smiling a little making his eyes narrow as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders - Then I won't hesitate to tell everyone I meet that i am Mrs. Hewitt

Your hand took his slowly walking together to the house while you talked about things that he only answered by nodding or shaking his head, just when you were both a couple of steps away from reaching the entrance of the house the sound of tires made you both turn around to look at the car that came down the road approaching you

-Now what this people want? These damn city dwellers get lost and come to disturb my property - Luda Mae sighs, annoyed, looking from the porch.

-Come in Tommy…let me bring you your apron so you can work - you smiled as you entered the house knowing that now the family business needed you.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Interference vs Difference

|PT1| |PT2|

JJK / Reader

{After being isekaied into Jujutsu Kaisen, you expected to be winthin the main storyline. Instead... You're in the past!? Far past...}

-

Not even caring on which horse you placed your hard earned money on, you run after the tall male.

"Train me!"

You shout excitedly, stepping closer to the bigger male.

The older man blinks at you, taken aback by your strange approach.

"Hah..?"

He smirks at you, leaning close.

" "Train you"..? Pfft-"

The, "Sorcerer Killer", laughed in your face.

Undetered, you hold up your arms, flexing them to your best abilty. "See! I'm strong!"

The elder Fushiguro sighs at your oddness, shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm not training some Sorcerer brat who doesn't even look qualified to be one." Toji rolled his eyes at you, walking away further down the row of seats in the stadium.

Unwavering, you follow close behind like a duckling.

Ticked off at your presence, he sneared at you. "Quit while your ahead, I'd rather not kill some stupid girl on my day off."

"No, I wanna' be trained by you!" You sqwaked again, undetered stomping closer.

Toji laughed bitterly, taking a seat, glancing at the track. "Why's that?" He mocked, disinterested.

"Because I... I want to change the future." You state, straightening up to look more assured than you felt.

"And you think seeking me out is gonna' fix that?" Toji scowled.

"Yes!"

He laughed once again, but it wasn't as light-hearted. Tense as he sees the horses race down the track. Seeing the horse you choose cross the finish line...

"I..." You gape at the results as Toji frowns, cussing angerily.

-

Your... Mentor lazily chides your stance as you throw a fist at the air. While he was laying on his back, flipping through a magazine you gave to Tsumiki during your arrival. Not even bothering to take notice of your struggle. "Hup!" You raise your leg, losing balance and falling back. Groaning in pain, muscles tense at your horrible work out

While Tsumiki and Megumi watch on quietly. You sigh, grumbling at yourself for not doing the stance right. Sitting up to try again, not giving up.

Tsumiki pouts at Toji's laziness, choosing to go next to you and follow your actions. Megumi slowly going after her.

The elder Fushiguro eyes the three of you and smiles.

"Okay, move your foot to the side. Make sure you have enough space and kick."

He sits up, placing down the magazine as he gets up to show all three of you.

You gaze in awe at the strength, wishing you were just as much a power-house!

-

"Eh! What do you mean Shoko?" Gojo asks the brunette as she shrugs. "Hm, dunno'. I saw her talking with this older guy the other day. Seemed fine to me..."

Haibara nods along to Shoko, while Nanami rolled his eyes at the gossip.

"That doesn't sound "fine"..." Geto mumbles thoughtfully as his friend pouts. "There's no way, an oblivious-idiot like that doesn't even know what dating means!" Gojo yells out.

"And you do..?"

"Course'!"

"No one said anything about her dating.." Shoko sighs. Feeling slightly bad for her teacher.

"Maybe he's a family member or something!" Haibara puts in his own two cents.

"No, now it's time for drastic measures!" The white haired male slams his hands down on the desk.

"Gojo..." Yaga grits out, who had been reading out the missions for the day before being interupted "Pay attention!"

-

Getting ready to leave since your mission was over, you proudly glance at your hands. Less calloused, more firm. Your hard work was paying off! You should bring some pizza to the Fushiguro household to celebrate..

Nodding at the idea, you start calling in the order as you wait.

Pausing, you sensed someone close by...

Turning around quickly, you blink at the saphire eyes gazing at you in bewilderment.

"Ah.. Gojo, Hi!" You smile at him kindly. "What are you doing here? I thought I asked Yaga to give you guys the off day.." You mumble, hoping Yaga didn't lie when you asked him earlier that day.

"Oh, that... Yaga sent us out here incase you got into any trouble Teach'!"

"Hm? "Us" ?" You quickly turn your head side to side, not finding any other student.

"Yup!" "Mhm."

"Hm?" Turning around, you noticed a politely smiling Geto and a unimpressed Shoko. Who looked like she was dragged with them unwillingly.

"Woah..!" You mumble, realizing you needed more training. Along with recognizing foot-step patterns. You'd have to ask Toji about it...

Wait.. Speaking of!

"Well, I'm okay. No worries, I was just heading out anyway."

"Hm? Where too?"

Geto asks, smiling too sweetly.

"To pick up a pizza." You grin, merry at the idea.

Gojo and Geto grin viciously. "Oh? I'm a bit hungry anyway, so lets join you!" Satoru smirks, his sunglasses gleaming as Geto agreed.

Shoko takes out her pack of cigs', shrugging. "Where too?" She smiles too sweetly.

-

"Is.. This where (L/N) sensei lives..?" Gojo mumbles, kicking a stray can as Geto nudged him, glaring. "Satoru-"

Going up to the doorsteps, you knock on the door. As your students watch curiously from behind you.

A big, bulking figure stood in the doorway. A frown on his scared lip as glares at you, but you smile. Holding up the pizza like an offering.

Shoko chokes on her cigerette as Getos eyes widen, Gojo's body rigid, as trio of students tense up.

Toji sighed, yet directs the glare at your compainons.

"Who are they?"

"Oh-! These are my wonderful students!" You shrug, not seeing how BAD this was..

"Well.. Half of them!" You grin at Toji, beaming.

"They wanted to join for pizza! I bought three!"

"Yeah, I can see that." Side-eyeing the frozen students behind you, he placed his fingers on his temple.

"Augh... Stupid hang-over headache.. C'mon in." He relents, side-steping away. "Tsumiki! Megumi! (Y/N)'s here!" He hollered, not moving out of the way fully.

You pause, handing the elder male the boxes and turn to your students.

"Please be polite in Mister Fushiguros home, or I'll kick you out!" You pout, laughing it off. "He's super nice and I don't want you guys to tell embarrassing misson stories about me.." You rub your neck shyly, before herding them inside.

Settling down at the table, you hand out slices as you converse with Tsumiki about school, occasionally asking Megumi as he only nods.

The table was way too quiet...

"(L/N) sensei...?"

"Hm?" You pause, lowering your slice. Shoko sweats slightly, "C.. Can I have some water?"

"Of course! I'll be right back, I bring some drinks for everyone." Getting up, you head to the kitchen. Leaving your students to fend for themselves in the presence of your... Friend?

The trio quietly gaze at their plates, quietly agreeing. This was possibly a mistake on their part.

"U-uhm.." Tsumiki softly pipes up, drawing everyones attention. "I.. I really like your hair, miss Shoko."

Blinking, the brunette eyes the smaller girl, smiling politely. "Thank you, I.. Your hair pins are very pretty."

"Ah! M- I mean, (Y/N) got them for me!"

The suffocating air becomes less dense, letting up with the bits of small talk and you stumbling back with a pitcher of water and balancing cups.

-

"So.. You care for them?" Toji states. Idly standing beside you as he watched you put away the dishes.

Bubbles of laughter heard in living room as you saw a small ghost of a smile on Toji's face at the warm atmosphere.

"Yep!"

"... Huh." Toji sighs at your carefree nature. Though, he trusted you.. Sorta. You were his... Mentiee? Protogè would be pushing it. You were always lingering near by, bombarding into his life without any grace or lack of security. Always facing ahead, only looking back when you noticed he was nowhere to be found.

"You know, Mr. Fushiguro... Have you ever thought.. I dunno.. Maybe, teaching? At Jujutsu High? I mean, you'll be paid, and there's dorms. And Megumi can learn more about his skill set, then Tsukimi can learn more about curse energy if she'd want?" You offer up, tone akward, worrisome.

It disturbed him slightly, having been used to your constant whining to train and up-beat smiles.

You were serious.

Toji mulled it over, it wasn't a bad idea per-say... But-

"Hm.." He shrugged, playing it off.

Toji wasn't borned with cursed-energy. He was sure you knew that simple fact, even still. You treated him as if he was just fellow sorrcer or friend. It boggeld his mind to no end, you weren't the "high-and-mighty" type to care. He knew that, there was this strangeness of your presence, pesent to a fault.

Seeing his lack of response, biting the inside of your cheek in worry. You grip his sweater sleeve, gazing down at your shoes.

"Please... Please think about it." You begged quietly.

Blinking at the action, his brows furrow. He didn't understand where this was coming from. Yet... He pitied you, you weren't a Gojo Heir, Zenin'in or Kamo. Just some girl who appeared and declared she wanted to get stronger.

All for the sole reason of, "changing the future". He had to admit, he was curious of your mind-set. A pathetic pursit to higher-ups, maybe even to your own students. Even he doubted your optomistic view. Though, you wouldn't back down, clearly stuborn pride, he assumed.

Letting go, you smile reassuringly. "But I won't force you! Promise. Scouts honor!" You quickly place a hand on your chest, as he scoffed at you. While you happily grab some treats from the freezer. Pulling him along to the living room.

-

[Thanks for reading, reading, fanart, comments, likes and such are welcomed! If you have any ideas for this Au, I'd be happy to listen!]

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Ok here’s my two cents that no one asked for on the current (sort of?) debate going on in the Creepypasta fandom on here rn.

For starters, I grew up with Creepypasta. I also grew up mentally ill. I am also autistic. So I know my way around good and bad mental health rep at this point. And to be honest? A lot of the original stories DID suck balls at representation or just horror writing in general.

However, nowadays I see other people on here, often mentally ill or any other social outcast, taking these characters and reshaping them as their own to fit their own feelings and experiences, and I don’t think anyone has the authority to criticize things like that. Cringe culture is supposed to be dead anyways, nevermind the fact it’s inherently ableist at its core.

We also need to take into account kids still exist in the fandom. Pre teens who got tired of shit like scooby doo and wanted something more “mature” or “edgy” to get into without fully going off the deep end into full blown horror movies. At least that’s how it was for me. Not everyone, especially someone who’s younger, is gonna be comfortable with the grit and gore a lot of Creepypasta “purists” are pushing for these days, and that’s okay! When a fandom gets popular it’s always inevitable and unavoidable to have the popular characters get two dimensionalized.

There’s also the whole mascot horror thing that I don’t wanna get into, but I’m 90% sure that also plays a part in the old favorites like Jeff and slenderman being brought up again. They were and still are recognizable characters. Recognizable characters aren’t a bad thing. Making horror more approachable for younger audiences isn’t a bad thing. People having their own interpretations based out of their own experiences isn’t a bad thing.

Some of us grew up and wanted the more edgy and reality based content, and that’s also not a bad thing! But neither side should be dictating or policing how the other enjoys content in this fandom. If you personally don’t like the way something is written, characterized, depicted, or drawn, no one’s forcing you to look at it. No one’s claiming it as canon. No one’s asking for you to accept it as the end all be all.

At the end of the day this fandom was built on OCs and personal depictions of stuff. I can’t name a single character or story in this community that was created by some outside party like a movie or TV studio FIRST (because I know some got so popular they breached the fandom and got their own shows/movies/comics/etc). Everything here was created by someone who wanted an outlet for their creativity, or their pain, or their coping, or whatever else.

Realism and dark headcanons aren’t bad, and neither are any of the headcanons out there who just wanna make a goofy found family of social rejects as a form of escapism.

A 13 year old drawing a fictional layout of a fictional mansion where these fictional characters live isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the horror, I promise, it’s not that deep and it never was.

A 22 year old making a dark comic on the realistic origins of Jeff who is a fictional character in a fictional world isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the more softhearted side of the fandom.

Sure, there can still be a split if people are so adamant about that, but as someone who personally enjoys both the brutal horror side and the “haha Jeff is 15 and gay” sides equally, y’all need to at least learn to be civil to anyone who has a different headcanon than you. And if that seems like too much still, the block button exists for a reason.

TL:DR this fandom is based entirely off OCs and headcanons and people can do whatever the fuck they want because none of it is real and horror comes in many shapes and sizes and intensities and no one should be bashing anyone on their headcanons or views or rewrites or whatever else.

EDIT:

Actually wait I think I have more to say-

Horror, like any genre, has NO AGE LIMIT. And by that I mean, if someone younger wants to delve into scary stuff, they should be allowed to do so without criticism. I personally grew up on “child friendly” horror media like Scooby-Doo, and the older I got the more horror I wanted to experience.

There’s no right or wrong way to “understand” horror, and I frankly think it’s ignorant and stupid to say if you don’t fully “understand” something, then you shouldn’t be involved in it at all. Horror isn’t always about gore and unspeakable violence and the eldritch entity that wants everyone’s skin inside out. That’s why horror has sub genres for fucks sake. Gut wrenching brutality against innocent people isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and that’s okay!

However, bashing anyone’s tamer headcanons, or calling anything anyone interprets differently than you “stupid”, that’s not okay. God, I feel like an exhausted parent giving this lecture to fellow adults, but this really needs to be said and stressed.

I am an adult. I like when stuff in the fandom takes a dark turn. But for nostalgia’s sake, I also love the fanon so much, because that’s what I was exposed to.

And for fucks sake if it comes down to picking sides, I would rather stick with the part of this fandom that gives zero shits how you see a character as long as you’re having fun.

You can have your serial killer 30 year old Jeff and your canon-accurate-to-that-one-image eyeless Jack, but don’t shit on other people if they don’t want the same thing. Your interpretation isn’t canon, and neither is anyone else’s for that matter.

Realistic, dark, gritty Creepypasta isn’t a new concept, and neither is “adult” Creepypasta. And by the way, Creepypasta was never stated to be for adults. That’s like saying kids and only kids can eat trix cereal. It sounds that stupid on paper.

Let people interpret things the way they wanna interpret. No one is infringing on YOUR character ideas. Creepypasta has no age limit, nor a set way the horror has to be presented. Those who do continue to claim that just sound like pretentious assholes.

Very small side note, I personally think it’s inappropriate and rude to keep using Toby as a “bad example” of mental health rep when the creator has stated multiple times the character is old, not researched, and not even in the fandom anymore. Leave the poor guy alone.

[zingaplanet]

hi, i adore your blog so much. <3. what are your thoughts on the state of fedal in 2024, especially as we approach (cries) rafa's retirement at davis cup?

Ergh I missed this one sorry! Although this might be prime timing considering what just happened during the retirement. I've been wanting to be as candid on this as possible for a long time and voice what all of their fans are thinking but I'm afraid I might cause quite some pain. So forgive me lovely tennisblr, here are just my two cents:

If you ask me what their relationship is like now, I've got to say I have no idea and I think that's a v telling answer. Fed retired end of 2022 and has been busy doing insane sponsor stuff for the whole year. He still showed up at tennis stuff (e.g., for Andy at Wimbledon, etc) but we can never tell how much engagement he actually has with the players anymore. Hence, even though he mentions Rafa a lot more often than others, I think we need to take it with a grain of salt here because the media sharks are simply pouncing on every opportunity to get a story from this too.

One thing I am quite sad about tho, is how everything after the mega publicised retirement ceremony seems to be a bit too PR-stunty. I get it, the rivalry was a big thing in the tennis world but with that photo going viral and winning all sorts of awards, being used in motivational sports speeches etc - it kinda transcends tennis now. Federer and Nadal have both always been bigger than tennis, but perhaps now that they are getting the attention together, it's getting a bit much.

When they mentioned each other throughout interview snippets all year, only sometimes do we get to see what's going on behind the scenes. Other times, from my perspective, it feels sadly like they have been media briefed after the whole whirlwind about how to make this as positive a press for them as possible without revealing too much. On this, I have to say, Federer is still a maestro - I have never seen an athlete with as much PR talent as him. I work a lot in comms and he is a simple branding wet dream, he says all the right words you want to hear, the same message in many different versions of sentences, but never actually reveals what's going on. Rafa used to be much more of a trainwreck early in his career but he has improved so much with age. He still sometimes, fascinatingly, slipped up tho, and seemingly only during Spanish interviews, when he's a lot more honest. In several of the Spanish tv and radio interviews he did this year, he seemed to hint that on the one hand, Federer is the only one he still speaks to regularly in tennis, but on the other hand, he gives a strange indication that they're not as close as they used to be?

I think it's quite predictable though. After Federer retired, they were now freer to build on the friendship without any of the rivalry hurdles - but at the same time, I think they didn't realise how much the intensity of the rivalry played such a central part in what made "them" special. It's such a push-pull enemies-friends delicate line they've been mastering how to tread all these years. It could be difficult to find footing now that tennis no longer binds them, and their initial obvious differences (you know, the "calm Swiss maestro - passionate Spanish fighter" kinda narrative) begin to show again. I don't necessarily think this means they can't connect without tennis ever again, it's just a bit like your school friends. When you graduate, you no longer have that connection of going to class together or hanging out during recess - but the truest bonds always survived, and after a few rough years, your good friends are still there.

If I'm honest, I think they are at the point where they're a bit unsure what to do with one another but might be forced to play a bit of a part as the media has lumped them "the eternal rivals turned friends fairytale". I honestly feel like the media and public interests might have made it a bit awkward between them. You can see a little bit in their PR stuff - Rafa namedropping Fed a little and sometimes a bit tired when he constantly got asked about Federer in his post-match pressers recently, and Roger doing stuff like the letter. The letter is v generous, heartwarming, and such a loving tribute - and I have no doubt he wrote it himself but it's a v public thing that would've and could've landed better just being delivered in person directly? Or perhaps in a speech for him. But the whole social media stuff seems a bit fishy.

Of course we all don't know what he did or didn't do privately, the same goes to whether this is all really true or they are both just v busy dealing with a big change in their lives (Fed newly retired doing a gazillion sponsor stuff and travelling the world, Rafa dealing with a career ending injury and retirement) - they might simply not have the headspace --or even want-- the other to be such a significant part of their lives at the moment, as these two new things they are experiencing are something uniquely theirs.

The retirement ceremony is a whole other story I could write lots of paragraphs about (don't encourage me!). But I think if we learn something this year, I think it's that athletes unequivocally deserve personal space, and we should never meddle with their personal lives too much.

For the first time in their lives, they will now be fully retired, out of the limelight, able to enjoy all the things we take for granted (like travelling anonymously! or trying out restaurants in new cities)! It's what they deserved after giving us 20+ years of blood, sweat, emotion, and passion on the court and in the limelight. They both owe us nothing. I think if they both disappeared from the spotlight next year (albeit unlikely) or decided to just grow their friendship in private and never appear publicly together again - that is completely their right. We can only show them support and thank them for all the amazing things they did to make our childhood and our lives so wonderful.

[mrs-gauche]

So, on the new teaser published on DA Day this year, while I won't even try to go as in-depth as the amazing @felassan already did, compiling everything of note in this excellent post, like the sleep deprived German with limited vocabulary that I am, I'm just gonna add my little two cents to it, hopefully not repeating too much of what has already been mentioned. 😁

So why not start with the caption here!

This honestly made me snort out loud. 😂 I mean, it's like BioWare is not even trying anymore to be subtle about the fact that Thedas has we know it is 100% doomed. lol And yes, I know we all joke about Thedas constantly being in Apocalypse mode, but this time it really feels like some massive change is approaching.

But to be specific, I am pretty confident in that this is referring to both the destruction of the Veil, as well as the freed Evanuris dooming the world through some kind of mega Blight.

When I first read the word "revelation", it immediately made me think of Solas' Tower tarot card. The Tower literally represents sudden, disruptive revelation and potentially destructive change. While "damnation" is the concept of a divine punishment, to be "doomed to suffer in hell forever".

And as felassan theorized, if the last person in the teaser speaking is Elgar'nan, and if he is in fact connected to the Old God Lusacan, who is the God of Night, bringing about the "eternal night" and darkness…

“Lusacan, the Dragon of Night, calls to you. He lives where it is darkest and waits for the day he will rise. Drink of his blood and know the power in darkness: either fear the Night or wield it." "The darkspawn yearn to awaken and corrupt Lusacan to start a new age of darkness." “A night that will never end”

...Whereas the "revelation"/Solas tearing down the Veil, to me at least, always seemed to be associated with light or "purification" (for lack of a better word), with how it was described in Sandal’s prophecy and the way the destruction of the Veil was portrayed in the 2022 cinematic, almost blindlingly bright. (Also, "Solas" literally means "light" in Irish. lol)

„One day the magic will come back. All of it. Everyone will be just as they were. The shadows will part. And the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.“

So I think, like this "revelation" contrasts the "damnation", like Light and Darkness, at least in terms of visual language, there could be a hint of a figurative, as well as a literal "clashing" of two opposing forces? Like, both are destructive, but like The Tower represents destruction in order to rebuild/to enforce new growth/for the soul to evolve, while the damnation is nothing but irreparable corruption?

Anyway! So generally speaking, the teaser highlights yet again three of the factions/places we've seen in all the 2020 teaser/concept art/books/comics. It looked absolutely gorgeous and the voice over gave me goosebumps, as well as the amazing score again (that may or may not be composed by Hans Zimmer and/or Lorne Balfe lol I wonder) and the sound design! <3333 Though what’s curious to me, is that neither the Shadow Dragons of Tevinter or the Veil Jumpers from the Arlathan Forest were mentioned this time around…

So, I think this time the teaser might be more about the main plot beats/quests in the game than about the protagonist's potential origins, like how in DAO and DAI, you travelled to various places gathering allies and completed their respective narratives first before facing the main threat. Each of the places shown is coupled with a voice over from what is most likely gonna be an important character in each of these plot beats.

The fact that they changed the word "hero" in the plot blurb on the official DA website to "leader" is also.. interesting. It kinda reminds me of when Mark Darrah mentioned that the "vision statement" for Joplin was gonna be "We would be heroes, but the records are sealed". 👀 Or maybe the new protagonist might not be so heroic after all and more on the morally grey spectrum, which is always nice to explore. lol Makes me also yet again wonder about the "They call me the Dread Wolf. What will they call you when this is over?" line, meaning that, no matter how heroic our actions might be, in the end history might still remember us as the villain.

Antiva

This looks phenomenal and if they actually manage to realize a city as big as what this suggests AND fill it with meaningful content and people (side-eyeing you, Val Royeaux lol), it will blow my mind! lol Like felassan said, I'm very curious if we're gonna do some Assassin's Creed style "parkour" here, like what was kinda described in the short story "As We Fly" from last year! The Crows as the only real military defense of Antiva, particularly in Treviso, seem to be in deep trouble now, having been invaded by the Antaam and if you look closely, you can actually see the banner of the Qunari being displayed in the city!

"We fight for everyone. And we always will. The Crows rule Antiva."

My first thought hearing the voice here was actually Caterina Dellamorte. The lines express authority or leadership and it's also a more elderly sounding voice (to me at least), so Caterina as the First Talon would make a lot of sense to me! There have also been lots of speculation about her grandson, Lucanis, being a potential companion as well.

Rivain

(Oh no, all of Rivain got eaten by a squid. lol)

I've been hoping to go there ever since I first saw concept art of Rivain, and this is still giving me huge Pirates of the Caribbean (but with magic) vibes. 😂 As someone who thoroughly enjoyed playing AC Black Flag like ten years ago, this looks VERY promising! Though please, if we're getting any kind of underwater combat (like with the Vinsomer mentioned in the codex entry from last year), just don't make me fight dragons underwater, I'm still traumatized by the Lagiacrus in Monster Hunter Tri. 💀

"Glory to the risen gods. They come to deliver this world."

As to who is saying this, honestly, no idea. 😂 The blurb on the website mentions dragons in this place acting up for some reason, and the line sounds very cultist. lol But I'm definitely with felassan here, too, that this has to be connected to the Evanuris as well, given this GIANT squid thing on the map and all of the horrifying ocean related stuff linked to Ghilan'nain and her monstrosities, my money is also on her being one of these "risen gods".

And honestly… If I was a simple sailor or pirate and then one day I would see this emerge from the ocean…

….I'd probably start believing in these "gods", too. lmao

Anderfels

Next up, we're going to the Anderfels and Weisshaupt and I don't really have anything to add to what has already been said, other than "Shit is definitely Going Down Here". lol Lorewise, it would be crazy to go there and learn more about the very beginnings of the Wardens at their headquarters, so.. given the lines, the ominous sound of battle in the background here and some *things* from those reddit leaks earlier this year (felassan made a great post about this too, but spoiler warning of course!).. I just hope there will be enough left of Weisshaupt to explore after all this. lol

"Grey Wardens don't hide in our castle. I won't ask good soldiers to turn tail and run."

My first guess was the First Warden as well, but felassan actually made a few very good points here that make me question it… 🤔

I was also wondering what these "pillar ring" things are and while I first thought some kind of magical defense mechanism, I saw a reddit user suggesting that these rings could be part of a griffon training flight path?? Hell YEAH. #BringBackGriffonsInDA4

"Tremors have been creating disturbances of late. Their cause is unknown. Upon the distant horizon, a storm of ominous intent brews and darkens the skies."

That is a very interesting description, given that the sky in *this* concept art (which is definitely also showing Weisshaupt), is quite clearly the opposite of "dark". lol

(*looking suspiciously at the things I mentioned at the beginning here about "Light and Darkness" clashing* 👀👀👀 Maybe Solas came to visit here, too, because he just loves the Wardens, right? lol)

You know, if I read the words "tremors" and "Grey Wardens", my natural conclusion is "Something something Old Gods Underground + Grey Wardens Trying to Kill Them Before They Awake = Nothing Good" (and let's not forget about the eleven(!!) mountains/Ghilan'nain's ancient pools underground mentioned in Tevinter Nights as well), keeping in mind that Solas gets furious about the Wardens deliberately searching them out and slaying them (because he obviously knows what's gonna happen if all of them are slayed(!)), and in DAI there was already something ominous going on at Weisshaupt...

And all of this coupled with the new vinyl artwork and all the promotional stuff for DA4 so far, makes me feel like the Wardens will be busier than ever before...

Seven semi-circles with two of them still "lit" and the "tambourine"/Veil looking more broken with each new update....

Seven Old Gods/Evanuris that were banished when Solas created the Veil.....

Seven mirrors shattering....

Seven gates of the Black City, which Kordillus Drakon prophesied will someday shatter and cover both the mortal and spirit realms in darkness....

And speaking of "DARKNESS COVERING BOTH REALMS".....

Tevinter

One word: TENDRILS. lmao

So the last shot shows a big part of Tevinter on the map, most of it covered in purple clouds and tendrils...

Followed by a voice that had me like

"All the world will soon share the peace and comfort of my reign."

First off, that voice actor sounds SO familiar, omg, who IS that?? Someone suggested Joseph Capp, the voice of the Shadow Prince from Divinity 2 and that fits perfectly (DOS2 has quite a few VAs from DA actually and funnily enough, the Shadow Prince is part of Sebille's main quest, who's voiced by Alix Wilton Regan lol) Whoever it is, they're doing a great job at sending a shiver down my spine. lol Like, you can just TELL, he's the Real Deal. "Peace and Comfort" never sounded more menacing. 👀

Alright, so I'll make this short, and say that I'm also very very confident that this is Elgar'nan speaking.

People have suggested the Archon, the Black Divine, some Venatori or Qunari leader, but honestly guys, none of these make much sense to me when looking at the bigger picture here (aside from the visual hints I've talked about earlier). Like, this teaser is obviously trying to set this person up as a serious threat to *the whole world*, and the only way I can see this work would be if this person held just as much or more power than Solas, because if they don't, they would just end up being a secondary concern, like another Corypheus…

You just don't market a game by suddenly introducing a new smaller threat to *"AAALL THE WORLD"* less powerful than the one we already have, you know. 😂 And imo, the only one "outmatching" Solas in terms of power, at this point, would be Elgar'nan or any of the elven gods. Or literally the Blight itself/the Titans.

And then there's this

"Hundreds of years in the making."

We know who has been directing the course of history for ages behind the curtains… I mean, the entire series has been building towards Mythal getting her vengeance.. and what better way to finally get to that point than to bring her husband into the narrative, the one who was potentially the main instigator of the Evanuris's betrayal and Mythal's murder. 👀

(There's one thing I need to say though, and I know this is the silliest of nitpicks, but.. if that guy really does turn out to be Elgar'nan, am I the only one who thinks it's really funny how he's just… talking British English/the common tongue like that? 😂 I mean, I 100% get why they cannot make the actors talk in ancient elven with subtitles for the whole game (something I personally really appreciated when they did it for some of the ancient elves and spirits in DAI), like Corypheus wasn't talking in the old tongue either, and I feel like there are multiple reasons for why this just wouldn't work. And if we're looking for a lore reason, I guess even the imprisoned Evanuris had somehow enough access to people's dreams over the course of thousand years to learn the languages of present Thedas as much as Solas or any other ancient elf like Abelas or Felassan did, but it's still funny to me nonetheless. lol)

Anyway, the teaser ends with a dragon's growling sound and then another wolf howling in the back, which I interpreted as Solas giving Elgar'nan a fair warning here that he's indeed still the title-giving DAD character. lol If we get to see these guys battling it out for real, like Giant Demon Wolf vs Black City Sized Blighted Dragon, it's already the best game in my book. lol

You just know someone at BioWare is having a blast at coming up with as many references to Solas' Trespasser dialogue to put in these blog posts as possible. 😂 I just hope they can keep this promise, cuz I have a LOT of questions (and I need Solas to answer ALL of them lol).

Hmmm... You "hope so", yes? Well, after *this* teaser I sure *hope* that the sentiment of "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" still holds true in this particular situation, because I'd rather still be on Team Solas if I have to choose between "revelation" and "damnation". 👀

I guess we'll see next summer... 😁

[clydesavage-thefox147]

So, a while back I made a post explaining a lesser known part of Virgil and Patton’s beef as of late. [Read here]. I said I would follow it up in more detail as to why I believe they are at odds. Honestly, shocked to have heard other fanders lately speaking on this similar point, so I'll throw in my two cents to see if anyone else picks them up.

This point in particular being about the most recent reason why there's a disconnect between them. That reason being Patton’s new found friendship with Janus. To start off, I think this is a commendable leap for Patton. He went from viewing Janus as a moral obstacle and an opposer to his “good person” image that he pushed harshly onto Thomas. Then, once Janus had explained his motives or at least attempted to, Patton started having a change of heart. He could tell Janus wasn't as such an awful guy as he once thought. Janus actually had sincerity and even helped reassure Patton that making mistakes is okay just as long as you're obviously trying to do better. Patton then later even admitted that Janus wasn't exactly wrong in the matter, proving that he did have a point. This flip in view for Patton is a good one, for both him AND Janus. Patton, with Janus' philosophically nuanced views and his lawful neutral-bridging evil approach, could learn to understand the grays of morality and selfishness. While Janus, with Patton’s softer demeanor and strong empathy, could learn to embrace his own softer side and even take a chance on selflessness towards others. This could be the first step in balancing out Thomas' mind and finding common ground. Despite Thomas' weariness to fully trust Janus, he's willing to give him a chance. This is a positive swing in the right direction. 

However, to Virgil, it may not be. We all know Virgil has his own personal vendetta with Janus, as well as the Dark Sides as a group. He has pushed time and time again that Janus is not good to have around and he isn't to be trusted. Later in Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts, he had admitted to wanting to protect Thomas from the Dark Sides or “The Others” as he called them. This was why he was so persistent in trying to keep them at bay. So, on the surface, he wanted them gone for safety but..his personal views on them are underlining the tension. Particularly with Janus, he has this aggressive behavior whenever Janus is present, showing that his views on Janus aren't very good. This is understandable seeing how it seems that Janus triggers something within him. He constantly pushes the notion that Janus is an untrustworthy, conniving liar. That's how he views him. This is the last image of Janus that’s ingrained in his mind. So, seeing him in a softer light like Patton is now, isn't going to be easy for him.

It's funny that Virgil said that Patton struggles with issues involving the past(which is a valid point to bring up) but..he himself is struggling too. Since he's holding onto these grudges, he can't embrace any form of compromise. Though, he could be valid in these grudges. We have yet to know what really transpired between all of them but it might have been quite tragic or traumatic to say the least. So, it's understandable why Virgil wouldn't want them around. They must've hurt him in such a way that made him outright refuse to view them as anything more than what his warped mind chose to view them as now. That’s why in Perfect Gift, when Janus gave Patton a genuine gift, Virgil didn't know how to exactly respond. His expression gives one of two feelings. Either one of not being able to see Janus in this softer light and finding it off-putting or maybe one of jealousy over Patton being treated nicer than how he might've been treated by Janus. I mean hell, they both gave Patton the same gift albeit years apart. Maybe Virgil saw it as competition for Patton’s affection? Or maybe, could Virgil be thinking that Janus is trying to manipulate Patton as well?

To further add, Virgil could also be feeling a strong sense of failure. He said he wanted to protect Thomas and the other Cores from the Darks but he felt like he failed with them becoming progressively harder to combat. Now, seeing the embodiment of Morality being friends with the embodiment of Deceit could be rubbing salt in the wound. He feels betrayed by Patton here. He constantly pushed that Janus wasn't trustworthy but those warnings were ignored.

Think of it like this: You have a toxic partner/friend/bully in your life and you have routinely ranted about them with your peers. They all agree you should leave them or ignore them. You do and everything seems fine for a while. But, then you turn the corner one day just to see your so-called best friend hanging out with this person. How would you feel? You'd feel hurt wouldn't you? This is how Virgil is feeling. It's a valid feeling. Seeing someone you trusted being with someone you couldn't trust is heartbreaking. Patton was Virgil's first supporter when he first showed up and now seeing Patton trying to accept Janus, his sworn enemy and/or possible ‘abuser’ is painful. Sure, Virgil was pushing Patton away due to previous issues between them but Patton still cared about him and wanted to reconcile. However, it seems like that won't be happening any time soon. Now, by giving Janus a chance, Patton not only pushed Virgil further away but cut a rift between himself and Roman. Now, Roman and Virgil are best friends all because they have a mutual hatred for Janus. We know why Roman hates him, but for Virgil, we don't know the exact reason(s) yet. Hell, Roman and Virgil were calling Thomas a liar throughout FWSA all because he decided to give Janus a chance too. Both Roman and Virgil feel betrayed by Patton here. But, I think Patton is in his right to fire back at Virgil with “Well if I can learn to accept you, why can't I accept Janus?” Then Virgil could either fall silent and not know how to respond, blurt out something so revealing about them, or something subtle yet still telling. Virgil hates the new found friendship Patton and Janus have formed but Janus could be annoyed with Roman and Virgil’s new connection formed around the hatred for him. These four are going to really have a brawl going forward and it could end great or tragic depending..and seeing how things have been escalating... probably tragic

But in summary, Virgil feels betrayed and hurt by Patton's involvement with Janus after repeated attempts to steer him and the others away from the Darks. He's not going to take this lightly at all. However, Virgil's hypocrisy in not being able to move on from his past grudges is blinding him from the positives of the situation and possible reconciliation. But, what do you think, do you pick up the two cents I just threw down?

P.S: I will add more explanation to Pat and Virge’s issues in another installment later hopefully.

[paradox-valleyy]

Lost and Found

Pre-canon rdr2 x Teen!fem!oc

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Word count: 2,5 k

Notes: Gangs first appearance 😋

The days had rolled by, and Jolene had spent nearly all the money she’d earned from Dr. Avery. She knew she should have stretched it out longer, maybe saved a few coins for the harder days, but the temptation had been too much. Johnson’s store, with its shelves of chocolate bars, canned peaches, and sweet candies, had been too good to resist. For once, she’d paid for what she took, and Johnson had been grateful, giving her a nod of approval when she laid down her coins.

But now, Jolene was out of money again, her stomach already grumbling as the night crept in. She wandered toward the saloon, hoping to make a bit of coin the only way she knew how. As she pushed through the saloon doors, the place was packed, the usual smoky haze and noise rolling over him. Townsfolk were leaning unsteadily against the bar, drunk and laughing. A table was set up for poker, while other men sat with half-empty bottles, chatting loudly with friends or staring dully into their drinks. Around the room, the women who worked the saloon fluttered about, eyeing men with practiced sweetness.

Jolene had learned a thing or two from those women. They were tough, and they’d seen enough to know a hard-luck case when they spotted one. They were kind to her, in their way. When she approached one of them, offering a boyish compliment and a downcast look, the sympathy worked like a charm. A few of them reached into their pouches or aprons, handing over coins with knowing smiles.

“Here, darlin’. Don’t go spendin’ it all in one place,” one of them teased, slipping her a few more coins.

By the time Jolene had collected a grand total of two dollars and thirty-two cents, she thanked them and slipped to a quiet corner, surveying the room. She scanned the crowd, sizing up which man might have a bit more cash on him than others. That’s when she spotted two men by the bar, a pair she hadn’t seen around town before. A rare sight.

The first was an older man, maybe in his fifties, with sharp, well-defined features and steel-gray hair. He was lean, almost wiry and his eyes were soft but, missed nothing around him. The other, perhaps in his forties, was more solidly built with black hair, a thick mustache, a red vest, and a pair of gold rings on his fingers, that set him apart from the usual townsfolk.

They leaned against the bar, talking and occasionally laughing, drinking whiskey with the ease of men who were no strangers to saloons. It was clear from their clothes and their confident air that they were new here. And new men in town often meant new money.

Jolene waited, watching as they drank and slowly became more relaxed. A half-hour passed, and the whiskey was taking effect; they were speaking louder, their laughter coming easier. Deciding the moment was right, Jolene slid through the crowd, lifting a stray wallet from another patron along the way before slipping toward the black-haired man in the red vest. She reached for the pocket, fingers brushing the edge of a wallet.

She was just about to pull it free when a drunken voice bellowed from across the room, “Joel, you goddamn thief! Where’s my wallet?”

The shout was enough to freeze the saloon. Jolene’s heart leapt to her throat as she turned, only to find the black-haired man’s gaze fixed on her, realizing all at once what was happening.

With her hand still inside the man’s pocket, Jolene did the only thing she could think of—she yanked the wallet free and bolted. She dashed toward the back door, hearing the uproar behind her, chairs scraping as people got to their feet. Jolene didn’t dare look back, but she could hear three sets of footsteps close on her heels.

As she hit the door and spilled into the alley, she cursed under her breath, feeling the frantic burn of adrenaline in her veins. She raced toward the stable, hoping she could cut through, jump the fence, and vanish into the dark before any of them could keep up.

Just as she approached the fence, she risked a glance over her shoulder to see who was chasing her. That second was all it took—her foot caught on a loose plank in the dirt, and she went sprawling face-first onto the ground, her nose slamming into the dirt and gravel. Pain shot through her face as she tried to push herself up, but rough hands grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

The first man, the one who’d shouted, William, was a burly townsman, red-faced with a mixture of anger and whiskey. His fist came down hard, catching Jolene on the jaw and sending fresh pain jolting through her.

“Give me back my damn wallet!” the man demanded, voice slurred with drink. Jolene, holding back a grimace, pulled the wallet from her pocket and handed it over, too dazed to argue.

The man looked like he might throw another punch, but a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back. “That’s enough,” came a calm, measured voice. “You got your wallet. There’s no need to beat up the boy.”

The man cursed, spat in Jolene’s face, and staggered back toward the saloon. Jolene coughed, tasting blood, and rubbed her jaw as she looked up to see her unexpected saviors: the two men from the bar.

The black-haired man studied her, looking her up and down. “You make a habit of lifting wallets around here?”

Jolene glared back, feeling defiant despite the ache in her jaw. “Only when I’m hungry,” she muttered, reluctantly holding out the man’s own wallet.

The man took it back, flipping it open and checking the contents with a casual glance. “How old are you?” he asked, a trace of curiosity in his voice.

Jolene spat some of the blood from her mouth, her voice bitter. “Twelve, I think.” She lied.

The two men exchanged a look, something in their expressions shifting. The older one with the gray hair, whose gaze was soft, finally spoke. “So, no family, then? You’re an orphan?”

Jolene said nothing, just held their gazes with a challenging glare. They didn’t need to know her life story.

The black-haired man sighed, tucking the wallet back into his coat. “Relax, kid. We’re not here to hurt you. Just maybe don’t try to pick our pockets again.”

A flash of frustration crossed Jolene’s face, but she couldn’t hold back a smirk. “If that drunk hadn’t yelled my name, you wouldn’t have even noticed.”

The two men laughed at that, surprising Jolene. The black-haired man seemed amused, giving her a nod. “Fair point,” he said, still chuckling.

It fell quiet for a moment, and then the black-haired man extended a hand. “Dutch van der Linde,” he said. He tilted his head toward his companion. “And this here’s Hosea Matthews.”

Jolene, feeling awkward, gave a slight nod and took Dutch’s hand, letting the man pull her up and muttering, “Joel.” She looked away, scuffing the dirt with her shoe, but Dutch only laughed softly.

“Figured as much from the way that fellow hollered your name back there,” Dutch said with a wry grin. “So, Joel, you from here?”

“No. I live… nowhere, really. Just here and there. I sleep where I can find a place, and sometimes when people start recognizin’ my face too much, I move on.”

Dutch and Hosea exchanged another glance, nodding slightly. There was a flicker of understanding between them, as though they’d seen this before.

After a pause, Dutch’s eyes glinted with an idea. “Well, tell you what, Joel. How about we go back to the saloon? I’ll buy you a meal—on the condition you talk a bit more. Maybe even tell us about this town and its… characters.”

Jolene hesitated, sizing them up. She knew these men weren’t ordinary travelers. Outlaws, she guessed, but something about them felt different. They didn’t strike her as the type to waste their time on pickpocketing coins; they were the kind who’d hold up a bank and take every last cent if it suited them. But for tonight, the promise of a meal outweighed her caution.

“Fine,” she said, her stomach growling at the thought. “But I don’t talk about everyone. Only the ones that don’t kick me when I’m down.”

Dutch grinned, satisfied, and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Fair enough, Joel. Let’s get you something to eat.”

With that, they headed back toward the saloon, where the noise, the smoke, and the night awaited them.

Jolene was devouring the steaming bowl of stew Dutch had bought her, each spoonful a rare treat after days of stale bread and dried meat. Bits of stew clung to her chin as she talked, eagerly spilling all she knew about the town between bites. Dutch and Hosea sat across from her, leaning in, their faces attentive, but their eyes watchful.

“There’s this one guy, Mr. Finch,” Jolene began, the name dripping from her mouth with a note of contempt. “Filthy rich, at least for around here. They say he’s got a few hundred thousand stashed away, mostly from cattle deals and a mining venture he sold off a few years back. His house is out a ways from town, all by itself.” Jolene paused to take a bite, savoring the taste before continuing. “He’s got a wife, but she’s strange. Never leaves the house, never talks. I only see her starin’ out the window, big eyes watchin’ like she’s afraid of somethin’. Folks say she was pregnant three times, but each time the baby didn’t make it.”

Dutch exchanged a glance with Hosea, a silent message passing between them. Jolene didn’t notice, too wrapped up in recounting the local gossip. She lowered her voice as she continued, not wanting others nearby to overhear.

“Mr. Finch? He thinks he’s better than everybody here,” Jolene muttered, scowling. “But he keeps the bank full and gives plenty to the church, so no one says nothin’ against him. Everybody just goes along with it.” She stuffed another spoonful in her mouth, chewing with a mix of satisfaction and frustration.

Dutch leaned back in his chair, his hands relaxed on the table, a calm smile on his face. “Interesting fella, this Finch,” he said, more to himself than to Jolene. “And what about the bank, kid? How much is in there most of the time?”

Jolene swallowed. “Pretty full, mostly,” she said with a sly grin. “People here don’t trust carryin’ too much cash around, so they all keep it there. Not that it does ’em much good, but that’s how it is.”

She glanced up, seeing Hosea and Dutch watching her closely, and feeling bold, she continued, “The sheriff here, he’s a real piece of shit. Was married four times, if you can believe it. Every one of ’em left him, ran out or worse. Last wife… well, she up and killed herself. He don’t work with bounty hunters neither, likes to keep things his way. And when he catches me takin’ something, he doesn’t hold back with his fists.” Jolene clenched her jaw, her anger visible despite the bruise already turning purple on her face.

Jolene finally set her spoon down, wiping her face with the back of her hand, and looked directly at Dutch and Hosea. “Why you want to know all this anyway? You two thieves or somethin’?” She grinned a little, though her eyes held genuine curiosity.

Dutch smiled, unruffled by the question, and leaned forward, his voice soft yet edged with humor. “Let’s just say we’re travelers, and we like to get a feel for the towns we come through. Easier to make friends that way, you know?”

Hosea, leaning back with a faint smirk, added, “Sometimes the less someone thinks they know about us, the better.” He raised an eyebrow at Jolene, who was looking at him with her head cocked slightly, not fully understanding but sensing the undercurrent.

Jolene’s fingers toyed with the spoon, glancing between them. These weren’t ordinary men; that much she’d already guessed. They had a way about them, a calmness she hadn’t seen in others, like they were used to being in control. Despite her best efforts to appear tough, the interest on her face was clear.

Dutch’s gaze softened as he took in the girl’s bruised form and scarred forehead. “Look, Joel,” he said, keeping his tone gentle but steady. “You seem like you’re good at gettin’ by, finding your way in a world that ain’t exactly kind. Hosea and I? We know a thing or two about that life too.”

Jolene’s eyes flickered with interest, and she crossed her arms, leaning back. “So you are thieves,” she said, as if confirming her own suspicions.

Dutch only chuckled. “We’re… liberators,” he said with a grin. “We take from people who wouldn’t miss it and don’t care about folks like us.”

“Or you,” Hosea added, with a hint of sympathy in his voice. He eyed the bruise on Jolene’s jaw, the lingering evidence of the rough life she was accustomed to.

Jolene took a long breath, weighing her next words. Part of her wanted to ask what they had planned, whether they’d bring her along or show her their way of doing things. But another part, the part that had survived on her own up until now, held her back, cautious.

Instead, she muttered, “Well, whatever you’re doin’, just don’t think this town’s easy pickin’s. Folks here are nosy, and they don’t take kindly to strangers who don’t fit in.” She glanced away, pretending to brush dirt from her shirt.

Dutch and Hosea shared a quick, amused glance, appreciating the girl’s quiet warning.

Dutch reached into his coat, pulling out a few coins. He tossed them onto the table, the clink of metal catching Jolene’s attention. “Here,” he said, nodding toward the money. “Enough for another meal or two. Think of it as payment for the… insight.”

Jolene looked at the coins, hesitant. She didn’t like taking charity, but she also knew enough to recognize an opportunity when she saw one. She snatched them up with a muttered “Thanks.”

Dutch rose from the table, straightening his coat. Hosea followed suit, giving Jolene a nod. “Well, kid, stay out of trouble—least till we’re gone,” Hosea said with a grin.

As they turned to leave, Jolene called out, surprising herself. “If you need me again, I’m usually around town.”

Dutch paused, a thoughtful smile crossing his face as he exchanged a glance with Hosea. “Alright” he said, looking back at Jolene with a spark of interest in his eyes.

Dutch considered her words, his mind already working. “Good to know. Thanks, Joel.”

With a final nod, Dutch and Hosea turned and headed down the stairs, leaving Jolene alone. She sat back, absently rubbing her bruised jaw as she thought over their conversation, a faint thrill of excitement mixed with a sliver of worry.

She didn’t know what Dutch and Hosea planned to do in this town, but she had a feeling things were about to get a lot more interesting.

[buckydeservesthebest]

Okay, the new Thunderbolts trailer scared me at first, but now that I think about it, I'm hopeful that Marvel isn't going to force Bucky out of character by turning him into a ruthless anti-hero.

Bucky first disables the vehicle that is directly attacking the TB car, and not the other two armored vehicles immediately in front of him. This means that Bucky is primarily trying to protect the TBs.

2. One of the remaining armored vehicles attacks Bucky with both the integrated turret, and one of his agents with an assault rifle. Bucky evades fire, and simply takes the weapon from its bearer, then overturns the vehicle suggesting the use of non-lethal force.

3. Bucky's own grenade launcher ammunition seems non-lethal as well, because the explosion did not even wreck the rear of the TBs car, being an ordinary vehicle. An ordinary military-grade grenade would wreck any ordinary car. This means that Bucky is just trying to stop the TBs. That's why he saved them from the guys who were trying to kill them. In fact, the car looks almost intact...

4. Bucky incapacitates one of the members of a tactical team (who appear to be the bad guys) by a simple head-butt, again showing a non-lethal approach.

5. Bucky is actively protecting innocent civilians from danger, something none of the other TBs seem to do.

6. Bucky gives Yelena advice about doing something to change her criminal past. What he said about “doing something about it now” is what he himself is doing, ergo, Bucky is fighting for the greater good again.

My full two-cent theory is: Bucky joined Congress some time before the events of Thunderbolts (apparently he was already a congressman in Cap4, and this occurs shortly after the end of TFATWS), either by coercion or blackmail by the government, probably promising him that this way he could bring some good to society without having to fight on the battlefield, going along with him not wanting to have to fight anymore.

But at some point they forced him to have to do more and have to fight again, having to be part of some sort of SHIELD or other force of justice/law, and this would explain the court scene, where they could have forced him through a modification to his conditional pardon. Now Bucky is forced to fulfill a role similar to that of a cop who must catch the bad guys, which at first seemed to be the TBs, but later it is discovered that Val is the real villain, Bucky teams up with them to overthrow her, in the process being the voice of reason, and inspiring them to be better people.

I really think that being a Congressman and a cop of sorts as well, Bucky's role will come across as heroic and not that of an anti-hero/bad guy. He will be the leader that inspires the TB's to redeem themselves and bring good to the world, being able to be heroes and no longer criminals... Going along with what Seb said about Bucky making the Thunderbolt a real team....

BUCKY HAS ALWAYS BEEN A GOOD MAN AND HAS PROVEN HIMSELF TO BE A HERO IN HIS OWN RIGHT TIME AND TIME AGAIN. IT'S TIME FOR MARVEL TO FINALLY RECOGNIZE THAT.

[iztea]

dy have any tips to make your art look less lifeless? I stare at my rendered digital art and everytime without fail i start to rot from the lack of soul in it

ok first of all, I think you might be judging your art too harshly. The only quite literal soulless art is AI art so as long as you create something, there's soul in it. But I understand what you mean. Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm best suited to answer this since it's something I struggle with myself, but since you asked me, here are my two cents on the matter

A lifeless look in your art may come from two places: a lack of skills or a lack of message/delivery

Skill-wise, there's a looot you can do and improve on : gesture, dynamic poses, more expressive faces, better color language, strategic line expression, shape language, using color theory to better express a certain mood of a piece etc.

i could go into detail for each point but it would take too long so I'll leave it up to you to google and research things on your own ( or you can shoot me another ask if you want me to yap about a certain technical approach and I'll gladly do so)

but honestly, these are just skills and tools that you master in time. A first step is to at least acknowledge their existence. I want to talk more about the second aspect of this issue: intention. The intention behind your art is more valuable than you think. Art can feel soulless if it doesn't send any message, if it's generic, if there's no emotion behind it or if there's nothing to be interpreted. I'm not saying all art should be super deep or profound to hold value of course, but i often feel like this is a rather neglected part when discussing art. We sometimes get so tied up in the technical aspects like rendering or anatomy but the truth is, a general audience (aka the people who will see your art) doesn't give a crap about the technicalities. They judge something at face value and the first thing they look for is the /message/. What is this painting about? Who or what did you draw? The second thing they will look for is connection. When they can relate to the emotion conveyed or the subject matter, the experience becomes more rewarding and engaging. The same applies to the artist. Creating something meaningful and personal often leads to a greater sense of accomplishment. Honestly, skill comes second.

Case in point: why does hyperrealistic art get shit on? It's very impressive technique-wise, yes, you can't deny the artist isn't skilled, but does it express something? Nope, they do the job of a printer which again,. it is impressive but not from an ~artistic pov, just from a skill pov. On the flip side, why do poorly drawn sob stories get so much attention and praise? Because the art triggered a certain emotion (that has overwritten an already untrained eye) and emotions are extremely powerful for humans as we all very well know and it basically makes them ignore or neglect the execution

So, my piece of advice is to draw something that has personal meaning /to you/, that ignites a certain feeling you can't shake ( it doesn't have to be something #deep or sad, laughter and joy are equally valuable so keep that in mind), a certain situation or scenario and I can guarantee your art won't feel as lifeless to you as before. To better express this idea of yours that you now possess, you can now think about the technical side of how you'd express it. For example:

~deliberately messy brushstrokes and textures -> create chaos.

~maybe you're feeling something lovely dovey and soft -> warm colors to express that + brushes with lost edges

~maybe you want to tell a story in a comic format -> focus on calligraphy; shaky lineart gives off the impression of vulnerability; leave whitespaces etc

~something funny? -> goofy facial expressions or lowkey downgrading the quality usually makes something funnier

~Colors ! colors ! colors !!! pretty self-explanatory blues and grays for depression pinks and rainbows for the happy ( or NOT if you're feeling adventurous winkwink)

BONUS TIP: hiding/blocking out/blurring the face of your subject makes the painting feel more immersive. The viewer can relate to the person you're drawing ( "oh he's just like me fr")

There are artists who are insanely skilled but make kinda "boring" art and then there are artists with cool ideas but with maybe an underwhelming execution.

Ultimately, it's a combination of BOTH awesome skills and intentions. Those are my favourite artists. When i find someone who draws something that makes me stare and wonder how tf they drew that while also appreciating how cool the concept is I knoww I hit jackpot. And if they draw fanart of my fave?? bonus points

okkkkkkkkk i yapped for too long sorttyyyyy hope it helped maybe idk

!!!!DISCLAIMER!!!! this is all my personal interpretation and how i view things I'm self taught I've never been to art school or taken any art classes so i might be completely wrong !! take everything with a grain of salt !!

[heartfullofleeches]

Could you tell some more about your rodeo clown and minotaur hybrid yan idea? like, you have Caught My Attention and i would rlly love to hear more 👀

(Have a blurb instead)

Crouching by its chipped bars, you squeeze your arm through the bull's cage and toss an apple on the floor.

"Here you go little guy, eat up."

The creature snorts; fruit disappearing into the shadows of his habitat. You're glad he's eating. Poor guy had a rough time getting settled in and you doubt he's seen the light of day since with the tarp your bosses kept over his cage. Something about keeping him hidden from public eye until his big debut. Feeling bad for him, you snuck him snacks and spoke to him on your breaks. On top of welcoming him home, you hoped it'd stop him from mauling you when you met later that night.

"Y/n! Show's about to start!"

"Coming!" You pat the roof of the cafe as you stand. "See you soon, buddy. Hope you don't kill me."

-

Working in the crowd, you hardly pay attention to the main show in favor of your own act. The rodeo runs the same with the horse riders and other performers out in the field, and you performing in between the time it takes for the next to beginning. When the showrunner announces the final act is the first time you look away, drawn to curiosity by the crowd's astonished and frightened gasps. The bull.. was a man. Or a hybrid of the two.

The horns and hind legs of the creature, but the physic and body of a man. The bullman rams into the handler freeing him of his ropes and tears off the mask attached to his jaw. He charges onto the stage as the doors fling open and straight into the horse rider who was apparently as uninformed of the beast as you. He goes flying, out cold before he even hits the crowd. The bull stalks towards his unconscious form as screams tear through the crowd. Your body is shaking, but you can't just leave him out there alone. Tumbling as you grab hold of the railing, you hop over the fence.

"Hey, over here!"

The beast redirects its focus on you. An angry grunt puffs its chest. Its eyes soften as they center on you. You don't have time to regret your decision as it storms towards you. It's almost twice your size and far quicker than any bull you've ran from before. You're going to die. Definitely going to die. You brace for the worse as you're sent to the uneven earth and its large body cages you from escape- a wet muscle licking the salted tears in your closed eyes.

What.

The bullman continues to lap at your face as you open your eyes, lifting you up by hands held on the curve of your spine and into his lap. His tongue sweeps over your lips before he's hiding you against his chest as the rodeo attendees approach to help you out.

"They're mine."

He speaks too? You push yourself away from his chest to give your two cents, forced into submission by him pinning your arms beneath one of his.

"Don't move too much, you might get yourself hurt. I'd hate to accidentally harm my mate when I've just got them in my arms."

"I'm not.... your mate."

The bullman chuckles. "I'm glad I have a human with a good sense of humor. You've been with me every night since they captured me and made sure I was taking care. What else would you be if not my lover? Dont worry. Not that I've got you, I'll never let you go again. "

[blerb-f1]

"Pick up" - Charles Leclerc x fem!german!reader Part 3

Charles and Y/N are in Monaco as an invitation arrives.

This is part three! Here is part one if you'd like to read it before. Here's my masterlist if you want to see more of my writing.

Warning: french! I haven't used my french in a long while so uh PSA. It's just two sentences.

“Why exactly are you on my Yacht, Y/N?”

Charles Leclerc stood at the front of his beautiful, beloved and very expensive Yacht docked in the equally beautiful, beloved and very expensive Monaco Harbor.With his Hands placed on his hips and his white, crisp ironed Dress Shirt making him look like the average yacht owner, his expression was clouded however. Y/N L/N, his german savior could be seen lounging on deck, dressed in swimwear and large sunglasses obscuring her eyes. 

“Because.” she overly punctuated her sentences quite often. “ I get to lay in the sun and stare at Monaco! And it’s free!”

Charles stared at her and sighed. “Could you be any less cheap than this?”

“I would call myself frugal”

“Frugal? You sure about that?”

“Very much.”

She was not just frugal, she was the pure embodiment of cheapness. If a person could be more unwilling to spend a single cent, it would be the people doing extreme couponing on TV, busy with holding up lines at Walmart for three hours.

The driver just decided to accept the situation, as Y/N had already pushed him through quite a lot of these shocks over a short time. Anymore and he’d be found to have a stomach ulcer the size of a soccer ball.  As he leaned back, taking in the sun, a sense of bliss and joy felt his stomach. F1 pushed him around the planet, therefore returning home was always the best.

Then, Y/N leaned forward, offering a glass. A thin flute with colorful liquid and one of those little sparkly umbrellas attached. 

“No alcohol! No Beer before four o’clock.”

“This isn’t beer, Y/N. And that didn’t even rhyme…”

“It does in German!”

Charles took the glass, drinking the colorful juice mixture with relief. Sweet liquid on dry throat. Perfection.

Y/N turned towards him again, beginning to speak. “Say, Charlie, when’s your next race? Need me to drive you back to Italy? Or the airport?”

Grumph. She never missed the opportunity to hit the sore spot called ‘losing his physical license’. 

“No, nothing. I’ve got time now. Nothing on the schedule for the next week or so. By then i’ll have a license again.”

Before he could finish speaking however, a disturbance was approaching. Charles Mother Pascale was approaching the boat in fast steps, her expression determined. she sprinted up the little plank, coming to a stop right before her son. Pascale dug around her Handbag, pulling out a crisp envelope which she handed over. 

The envelope was quickly opened, revealing a pretty looking card. 

Charles read out aloud. 

“Dear Mr. Charles Leclerc, you are hereby invited to a traditional ball hosted at the Prince’s Palace of Monaco along with a companion of choice.”

“-the fuck?”

Y/N audibly was confused. “A Ball? In this day and age? And in the Palace? Are you that important Charles?”

Charles Leclerc was too stunned to speak.

“Y/N, I-”

He took a deep, deeeeep breath in. His lungs filled to the brim with fresh air, willing to steady his thoughts. 

“Y/N, I am Monaco's first driver in so and so many years. I have won races. Obviously I matter.”

“Hm. I really should look at sports more. I only notice Soccer because drunk soccer fans are the worst train passengers.” She then got up, snatching the invitation from his hand and reading it over. “A ball. I wonder, does it feel magical or annoying?”

“I’ve been to one or two before - unless you got someone nice accompanying you it’s just polite chatter and more alcohol than you should drink.”

“So like every social event that has ever occurred?”

“Very much.” He nodded.

Then, a thought occurred to him. The letter expressly stated ‘a companion of choice’. Last year he had taken his girlfriend but they had long broken up by now. What was the right choice now? Ask a friend? Maybe his mom?

At that moment, Y/N leaned over, putting her sunglasses on his nose. 

“Take these or you’ll go blind with that paper flashing you. The sun’s dangerous, you know!”

The solution was right before his nose. He could take Y/N.

“Say Y/N - did you ever want to go to a Ball?”

“What?”

########

The next day, after a long sleep in Pascale’s guest room, Y/N found herself seated at the parlor in one of Monaco’s biggest and most luxurious clothing salons. 

The attendant was visibly judging Y/N up and down before stepping forward to take her measurements. 

“Since the event is this evening, we have to pick one that fits you quite well. We can complete minor alterations until then, but nothing big is possible.”

Y/N simply nodded as Pascale looked around the salon. She looked quite emotional at this situation. 

“Pascale, is everything alright?”

Pascale sniffed. “I never thought I could go dress shopping with a girl!”

“Huh?” 

“I have three sons, not a single daughter. And their girlfriends never wanted to spend time with me. Lorenzo’s last one didn’t want to visit Monaco, Arthur’s is very shy and Charles? Oh Charles, he changes them so often! I can hardly remember their names! I’m so glad to have you around, finally.” 

Oh. This was bad. Y/N had totally forgotten that Pascale believed her to be Charles Girlfriend.

The older woman took a look around the store again, looking at the different fabrics and the clerc fuzz around. Finally, Y/N was allowed to state her thoughts.

“I uh. I guess something not too outstanding. I don’t know most of these people and am just here for Charles.”

“Anything else?”

“No clue what suits me. I couldn't go to my graduation ball so I’ve never worn an evening gown.”

Pascale pulled a grim face. “You never got dressed up like that? You definitely missed out.”

The attendant added. “Then, since you are unsure, how about Miss Leclerc and I pick some dresses to try?”

“I’d like that”

The attendant took that Chance to show Pascale where the right sized dresses were placed. Like pigs searching for truffles, the two were busy digging around for the right scrap of tailored fabric.

15 Minutes later, Y/N stood on top of a little walkway, dressed in a frumpy gown.

“It’s uh…”

Her brain worked hard.

"Nice."

Pascale stared at her with her eyebrows lifted. “Are you sure? You look like a frosted cupcake.”

Y/N audibly sighed. “Trying on dresses is so tiring. I never even considered that. All that work and none of them have looked good.”

“Try the next one honey, I just know that you will like one of them.”

“You sure?”

Charles' mother gave her a reassuring smile. “Yes.”

The German woman disappeared behind the curtain, fabric rustling. She finally returned, her walk more confident and her head lifted up high. The dress was beautiful yet not too busy. A jet black fabric with a light shimmer, the straps folder over her arms. The skirt trailed apart with a light slight on the side. 

Y/N grinned at her advisor, visibly content.

Pascale beamed back at her. “Is this it?”

“This is it?”

“Then let’s go to my salon to get you ready.”

########

Pascale lead Y/N to her salon, turning on the lights as she prepared one of the stylist's tables. She washed Y/N’s hair, before giving it a trim. Then, she picked out hair pins and tied it into a pretty looking, tight updo with loose pieces framing her face. She placed gem decorated pins into her hair to help it stand out more. 

As she finished, a bicycle rang outside. Another older Lady entered the store, approaching Pascale while speaking french. 

“This is my Friend, Marietta. She will do her make-up. Since she speaks french only, any of your wishes need to go through me.”

“I got nothing to say.” Y/N said. “I’m still in a daze. She definitely knows better than me”.

After being shown a photo of the dress, Marietta got working. Brushes en masse passed over her face, applying layer after layer into a beautiful artwork.

Just as she finished, the tailor also approached, bringing the altered dress and a pair of heels along. The three present helped Y/N into the gown and shoes, leading her back to the Leclerc’s place.

Pascale stopped and looked at Y/N, taking in her appearance. 

“Something is missing”

She seemed to go deep inside her mind, thinking hard. Then, she quickly rushed off. Running from room to room, she finally came back carrying quite a few things.

First of all, she handed Y/N a pair of black, long gloves.

“Gloves, you know, always make an outfit better. They prevent you from touching bad things and make you look more mysterious.”

After that, she slipped a bracelet of pearls around her right arm. Matching earrings graced her ears, the necklace decorating her neck.

Finally, she stared at Y/N again. Her eyes are getting watery.

“Y/N.. You look beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Definitely, look”

She spun the surprised woman around, facing her own reflection in the mirror.

Y/N stared at herself in awe. She didn’t know this woman. Her tired skin was gone, along with the darkened eye bags. Her hair looked so great like this, her body looking as if made for the dress covering it.

“Is this…me?”

“That’s why we like dressing up, you know.” Pascale sniffed. “You realize how pretty you truly are.”

Having worked as a train attendant for so long, with ungrateful and rude people had made Y/N less willing to care for her appearance. She hadn’t dressed up or tried in such a long time, this truly was a special moment for her.

Then, the door opened. “Maman, je suis retourné! Est-ce tu finis de choisir une robe pour Y/N?”

Pascale called back. “Oui Charlie. Allez, Allez! Viens ici, regarde la!”

Charles opened the door,  carrying a bag with something. He looked good, all dressed up. Yet, as he caught her appearance he dropped his bag. 

“Y/N?” he asked in surprise.

Y/N gave him a spin. “Do I look that bad?”

Charles Leclerc was too stunned to speak. Again.

“You don’t look bad.” He shook his head. Seeing his moms angry expression, he quickly added. “You look breathtaking.”

Y/N stretched her hand towards his. “Then, shall we get going? I’m glad you picked me up. I would have been scared if you had me go somewhere on my own”

####################

Taglist:

Next part is the last one!

If you want to be tagged, let me know!

Translations:

"Maman, I'm back! Did you finish picking a dress for Y/N?"

"Yes i did. Hurry up, come look!"

############

@itsjustkhaos

@appl3-0rchard

@barcelonaloverf1life

@randomnessis-mine-me