#And decides to make it everyone's problem

[worldweary-walker]

There's a bit in Dark Wizard Of Donkerk where the main character talks about this. We get used to working around problems, we stop seeing them as problems, and when they affect us we're caught off guard again- we think we fixed it, when really we just got used to it.

There's a bit of ADHD organization advice I've heard, the fifteen minute rule. If it takes you more than fifteen minutes out of your way to start a task, you're not going to do it. You just won't remember. That's not something you can solve by just deciding to remember, and it's not something you're going to solve by walking faster.

The best way to solve it, that advice says, is to change your path or to change your destination. If you won't remember to go to the gym, you might remember to exercise in your own home- weights, a yoga mat, some tactile reminder you can see. A five minute preparation, not fifteen.

I think the fifteen minute rule might apply to mental health, too. If you can identify the steps that make your struggle easier, or that help patch you up, then you can smooth the path to get there. Put a reminder to call your doctor on the fridge. Find a doormat that reminds you to go for walks. Make it easier to get the things you need.

I dunno. Everyone's situation is unique. But I think it's easy to get hung up on doing things the right way instead of the way that works, because the right way is something you can talk about and the way that works is something just for you.

[rottenherbs]

Saint Like // G.W x reader

Request: Would you write a George x reader where Molly doesn't like George's girlfriend and she's kind of mean towards her but when she sees reader take care of George after he loses his ear she starts to slowly accept her?

Word count: 2.2k

Authors note: finally back to writing! Yippie!! That sickness actually was the worst ive had in years.

[masterlist]

Much love, Saige

———

It hurts to be dismissed by your boyfriend's mother. Year after year you arrive at his home, welcomed by others in his family, banter with his father, and simultaneously given the stark cold shoulder by the woman who gave him life.

It confused you to no end. She never supported the twins' endeavors; she consistently dismissed and shrouded any thought of their joke shop, practically banning any conversation of the idea in the burrow indefinitely. In her own world, Fred and George would magically wake up one day and decide that they wanted to pursue a career that was more lucrative. Her own fear of poverty inflamed her distaste in their aspirations — purely because it had the possibility of their own financial demise. She wanted better for her boys, and unfortunately you were the easy scapegoat to place blame.

It poked and prodded every nerve on you. You wanted nothing but success and love for George and his family, but you were seen as a threat to the possibilities that they might turn out… normal.

—

The climate of the wizarding world was beyond bleak. Everyday you rose to the sun, beyond blessed to be living another day, but filled with anxieties that it truly may be your last.

Your addition to the order was practically mandatory. With no ties to your parents it was easy for you to sign away your life for the greater good. Your heart lied with Goerge and your friends and fighting next to them would be an honor.

As it came up on Harry’s seventeenth birthday, figuring out how to transport the boy became more trivial. The magical protection given to him by his mothers sacrifice would wear off and he would be more vulnerable to Voldemort than ever. Every movement or spell he made was under the view of the ministry and it had to be done with extreme caution.

The burrow was the next safest place for him, but getting him there bred confusion and limited options.

“What if we just had him apparate out?” Ron asked. The order sat around the kitchen table at the Burrow, just days before operation Free Potter.

”He is still underage Ron, it’ll be flagged immediately.” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes slightly. Ron shook his head.

”We’re already breaking the law, why not one more!” He chuffed, disappointed how easily his idea was shut down.

“Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem.” Moody interrupted “He’s made it an imprisonable offence to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here or Apparate in or out.”

The table silenced at his arrival, everyone soaking in the new information and the loss of yet another helper on the inside.

“That’s pointless, he is protected anyway -“ You started. You were honestly just thinking out loud, soon realizing everyone’s eyes on you.

“All that’s done is stop Harry from leaving safely.” You coughed, attempting to find your voice again. Moody shook his head in agreement, those in the order all now speaking among themselves. George arrived at the kitchen taking a spot next to you. He nudged you quietly, smirking down at you.

“Anything juicy?” He whispered, leaning down. You smiled and shook your head no, leaning over to reply.

“Just all hobgobble about how we will get Harry here. Even moody is stumped.” You whispered. George scoffed.

“Moody stumped? Give him like 4 minutes, we’ll be out of here in no time.” He chuffed. The feeling of his hot breath tickled your neck, causing you to shiver slightly. Giggling, you looked over the room, unfortunately making eye contact with Mrs Weasley. She pursed her lips and scowled.

“I think we ought not be distracted.” She stood, walking around the large table to the sink. She stood with her hands firmly on the ledge leaning away from the crowd. As much as you felt targeted by the statement she was right.

“Its risky but it’ll take cooperation… from all yous.” Moody thumped, his fake eye spiraling around the room. Thievery fell into a hush, waiting for what he had to reveal.

“Everyone will be a potter. As many heads as we can round up. They’ll be confused, won’t know who’s who.” He coughed, opening his flask and taking a swig.

“Polyjuice potion?” George asked. It was more of a rhetorical question of course, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Aye boy.” Moody nodded.

“They’ll just kill us all.” Molly shrieked, the idea of everyone now the face of the target became increasingly daunting.

“No they won’t Molly.” Remus coincided. “We ride on brooms, quietly through the night in groups eh” He raised his eyebrows, checking the feelings of the table. Most people nodded in agreement.

“It’s the order Molly. We’ve been in danger from the beginning. It’s not the time to become fearful.” Moody coughed, standing up from the table.

“One month from today. Stay vigilant.” Moody snapped from the room, leaving everyone in silence.

—

The month came and went in a flash. It felt as if the sky was grey every day since that meeting. No sign of summer or joy, only the steep consequences that were to come.

“Hi my love.” George purred from behind you. He wrapped his arms around your torso, resting his head on top of your.

“Hi.” You whispered, leaning back into his body. You both swung lightly in each other's arms enjoying the feeling of peace.

“They just got word of who’s flying.” He mumbled, keeping his head steady. You kept swaying, but your body stiffened slightly at his words.

“You’re going.” You sighed. You knew he would, and you kicked yourself daily for worrying about his demise. It wasn’t exactly a positive situation to be in, but your milling about danger wouldn’t help.

“I know you wish I could stay, but Fred and I fly well, and they need people who are confident in their brooms.” He murmured, rubbing your sides lovingly. He turned you around to face him, his cheeks warm with glow, beaming down at you.

“What am I doing?” You asked, holding his arms tightly. Part of you wished to be in the sky with him, as if your presence could protect.

“You, my beautiful bird-“ George leaned down, kissing your forehead after every word. “You are meant to stay here. Look for signs and send alerts back if anything happens.”

You didn’t respond, you just sighed and smiled.

“I know you wanted to go.” He whispered. “But it’ll be good. A good opportunity to help from the ground.” He smiled. You could tell he was trying to reassure you, his eyes darting between yours looking for any sign of disapproval.

“Okay.” You whispered, leaning up so your nose grazed his. “I’ll be waiting for you, and you better come back in one piece.”

—

The night finally arrived and you spent every waking moment with George. You hated to think it was your last time seeing him, but the reality was clear. Anything could happen tonight and you would be sure that it was spent with him.

After dinner, Moody arrived at the burrow rallying up those who were going.

“5 minutes and we must be out, got it?” He looked around the room, heads nodding in acceptance. He turned to you and Molly, softening his face.

“You two will be the first to know if anything happens. I will send a message once we have left the Dursleys, then we will be back here in approximately 30 minutes.” His eyes widened in question, looking for any look of approval between you two. You dare not look at Molly and keep eye contact with Moody.

“Yes sir.” You choked, the air in your chest seizing.

“Atta girl. Alrig’t move out.” Moody winked, turning on his heel and walking out of the room, numerous bodies following. George paused and jogged over to you, kissing your cheek and squeezing your hand before joining the fray.

Once everyone left the burrow became quiet. Molly soon looked for any way to busy her fingertips knowing she’d have to distract her mind or else she’d go mad. You stood by the window for a short period, looking at the sky and prairie out past the horizon looking for any sign of movement. Hearing a hefty sigh behind you, you turned to face the sound, already anticipating a lecture.

“Could you help me make supper? I bet they’ll be hungry when they get back.” Mrs.Weasley spoke softly, her back turned to you still maneuvering pots and pans in the kitchen. You nodded to yourself and took a deep breath in, walking over near her.

“Maybe start with the potato’s, rid the eyes and peel the skin for me.” She didn’t look at you, instead speaking into her hands, sniffling after ever few words. She wasn’t crying, but you could hear the trouble in her voice clear as day. Grabbing a peeler, you got to work, trying to pass the time as well.

“I hope you know I don’t .. loathe you like you may think.” She whispered, just loud enough so that you’d hear but quiet enough that the words don’t linger in the air.

You stood in silence, peeling the potatoes, confused entirely by her statement.

“I don’t think-“ you lied, thinking it was the right thing to counter, even deep down you felt that she thought you were better off dead most days.

“You have every right to think it.” She snuffed, pausing her work and biting her cheek. “I just….”

“I understand a mothers love.” You whispered, picking up another potato and holding it softly. “I understand wanting the best for your children, but ..” you choked. You didn’t know if you had the confidence to say yet another thing that would make her angry.

“But sometimes their best interest isn’t yours and it’s out of a mothers control what their adult children do.” You finished. You knew it was the truth, but on the heels of Percy abandoning the family it had to have stung just as hard.

Mrs Weasley didn’t respond. She didn’t move her head or acknowledge your statement but stood and pondered what you said. You couldn’t tell if she was boiling with rage or the words finally penetrated the field of deep affection that clouded her judgement so.

Just from the window, a owl rapped the glass, begging to be let in.

“That’s them.” She muttered, wiping her hands on her apron and rushing over to let the owl in.

“Thirty minutes.” She sighed

“Thirty minutes.” You repeated.

Time moved extremely fast after that. You both were taking turns by the window to cool down your nerves with the cold night air. The meal was brewing magically on the stone and didn’t need the tender touch of either of you to finish. Even though very little was said between you two, it felt as if you had become closer because of tonight. At least, we understood a little more about each other retroactively.

The sound of loud snapping wood alerted you both that people were apperating at the burrow. Running out of the burrow, you locked eyes with Harry, who was barreling off of Harris’s motorbike, stumbling towards the house.

“Death Eaters, loads of them — we were chased —" Harry coughed, falling into Mrs.Weaslys arms. Your mind raced, searching the sky for any one else who would arrive.

“Death eaters-“ You whispered, fear overtaking your body. You could taste the adrenaline in your mouth, a sour foul feeling overcoming your every sense. Luckily the pain of unknowing was only for a moment more, as Lupin and George followed suit.

“George!” You cried, running over to the boy. His hand held the side of his head, blood was dripping down his shoulder and across his cheek.

“I’m okay im okay.” He mumbled, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and hoisting himself upon your small frame. You tugged his body indoors, flopping him on the family couch in the living room.

“It’s just my ear darling.” He smiled weakly, his face was pale from the loss of blood but still held your hand tightly. Mrs.Weasley quickly began to tend to her son, allowing you to hold his hand and be with him through it all. Even though you were slightly inconvenient to her tendings, she dare not ask you to move. Both Fred and you had been tied together, your sobs uncontrollable.

“Honestly I think I’m way cuter without an ear. Don’t you think?” George tossed, rubbing your hand affectionately. Mrs Weasley had successfully stoped the bleeding and bandaged what she could, leaving you both alone in the room. Just in the kitchen, Lupin and the order continued to talk about their now sudden loss of Moody and who could be trusted.

“It definitely makes you stand out.” You laughed, finally feeling comfortable in his state. You both smiled at each other, the everlasting admiration you had for him only grew, how resilient and fateful even in the face of death he had been.

“I’ll always get the last laugh-“

[oharaslove]

We’ve always seen Grumpy x Sunshine when it comes to Miguel and Reader. Today I present you with Grumpy x Grumpy

Reader who never showed a smile towards anyone in the Society. 

Miguel who notices them in the group meetings. Every Spider has a sense of humour, they smile through the pain, but you didn’t. You were always with a serious expression. You were integrated, at the same time though, you seemed closed off. Not letting anyone come close. 

Miguel who takes interest. There is only one place for a Grumpy person in this lab, and that’s him. Or at least, most people say he is grumpy, not that he believes it 100%. 

Reader who enjoys spending time by themselves, recluding to the rooftop of the Society. A place that, weirdly enough, no one frequents. 

Miguel who looks for Reader in the common spaces, but doesn’t have luck. He didn’t exactly know what he wanted with you, but there was something pulling him towards your person. Did he want to be friends? Was he just curious? No idea.

Miguel who has to admit to Lyla what he is doing, having to accept her teases. “Oooohhh Miguel has got a crush” At which Miguel rolls his eyes. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even know you! How could he have a crush? he definitely has. If it were any other Spider, he would probably not care, but you. You had something. 

Lyla who, after an uncountable amount of mocking, takes pity on Miguel and reveals your location. Miguel who sees you through the security camera, sitting at the edge, dangling your feet. 

Miguel who marches towards your location. No plan in his head. He was just going with the flow. His body guiding him towards what it wanted. You

Reader who is startled by the sudden sound of someone opening the door to the rooftop. Who the hell comes here?. You turned around, spotting Miguel silently watching you from the doorway. You turn around again, rolling your eyes. Whatever. 

Miguel who approaches you. What the hell has he come here for? It’s been a looong minute since he has spoken to a woman, other than work stuff.

Miguel who just stands there, looking off at the distance, while keeping an eye on you from time to time. He was just testing the water, yeah. 

Reader who finds it weird, but let’s it happen. Miguel is the leader of the society after all. Besides, you knew (or at least heard) that he was “grumpy”. Problem, you didn’t know if he really was, or like you, he was misunderstood by everyone. In doubt, better keep quiet. 

Miguel who after a while, decides to go. That was embarrassing enough. But don’t get confused, he would come back, he just needed a plan. 

Miguel who, the first week, just stands there, getting comfortable with your presence, hoping you do too. Until….

“You know you can sit, right?” “Uh… I-” He stutters, not expecting you to talk. You scooch over, even though there is plenty of space. Miguel sits, rather close. He enjoys the view now, but most importantly, the heat emanating from your body. He sighs, step 1 down. 

Days turned into weeks. Now, you two were comfortable. Not talking much yet, but sitting next to each other, enjoying each other’s company while appreciating the skyline. Miguel hadn’t realised how much he needed this, relaxing. After a day being cooped up in the lab, this was a nice change. You would share food with each other, a lovely and quiet picnic between two friends? A boss and a worker? Co-workers? He had no clue, but whatever it was, he liked it. 

But… he wanted more. He felt the need to know you better. So.. that’s how the conversations started. About whatever, whoever… didn’t matter. What matter was that step 2 was down. 

Step 3 was by far the hardest one. Make you laugh. At least a small giggle or a smile, Miguel would be happy with either one. 

Granted, Miguel wasn’t good with jokes either. He didn’t know how the other Spiders did it. But thankfully, as a man of science, he knew how to achieve a goal. 

Miguel who spends quite some time observing the other Spiders. He never had a reason to, but now, he did. He thought that you would like it if he was funny, like the others. Yeah, surely, why wouldn’t you?

Miguel who writes some jokes and practises how to deliver them, over and over again. Lyla was having a blast. The big, “bad”, “grumpy” leader of the Spider Society, creator of Nueva York, was mad about another person. 

Miguel, nervous af, goes to your spot. After meeting for quite some time, you two developed a routine. Always at the same hour, same place. 

Reader who is already there, waiting. You really enjoyed meeting with Miguel, you felt he was the only one who understood you. 

Miguel who slowly approaches you. He could feel sweat dribble from his temple, down to his neck. 

Miguel checks the paper on his hand. Yeah, these jokes would do. 

Miguel who, after a peaceful chit chat, feels comfortable enough to start trying with the jokes. They were awful, to say the least. 

“How would you describe Spiderman’s perfect home? The world wide web!”

Miguel who after every stupid joke watches your reaction. At first, you are confused, but as jokes go by, he can see you trying hard not to smile. 

“What is–” “What are you doing?” you said, your lips tugging up into a smile. you were so adorable. “What do you mean?” “The jokes” you clarify, your smile widening. “I– I was trying to be funny, like the other Spidermen. People seem to like them. I–” “Don’t” you interrupt, your tone and expression serious. 

Miguel wanted to be swallowed by the Earth. He scrunches the paper and fists it. This was all a waste— “I like you just the way you are” You confess, making Miguel snap his head towards you, eyes wide like plates. 

“You– you do?” He must have misheard you. “Mhh” you mumbled, nodding. “Just,” you bite your lip, debating if you should say it or not. “Just be my Miguel. The one you’ve always been” And you smile as bright as the sun, warming Miguel’s hug. 

“Your Miguel” he repeats in a trance. You nod, biting your lip, trying to suppress the smile that had been printed on your face. Nothing could wipe it now. 

Miguel mirrors you, smiling from ear to ear. He looks at his clenched fist, the paper sticking out. He looks at you and laughs, throwing the paper into the city. “I’ll be your Miguel then” He scooches closer to you, giving you the opportunity to lean on his chest, as he rounds your body with his arm. 

“Yeah, my Miguel” you sighed, closing your eyes and melting into his touch. His warm body and heartbeat lulling you to sleep. 

Miguel who kisses the top of your head, before resting his cheek against it. He sighs, step 3 and goal down. 

To the world, you were two Grumpy people. But between you, days were spent between laughs and giggles. Kisses being interrupted by smiles. Just seeing each other made you happy. Life was warm, yellow and red, all together. It didn’t matter how the rest saw you, just that you two were happy and in love. 

[thrashkink-coven]

anyways guys so the hot take of the week is that religious people are offended by demonolatry.

I can’t believe I have to say this but yes, Jews, Christians , Muslims, and all other people from organized monotheistic religions are probably going to be offended by you worshiping demons in general. Crazy concept but yes. Religious people get upset when they see people worshipping or working with demons they believe are evil. If you are concerned with the negative opinion of religious people, keep your practice a secret. It’s what we’ve been doing for centuries. The worship of these demons has never been popular or encouraged. That’s how demons work. They have specifically been demonized, working with them is more controversial than working with pagan Gods who have not been demonized. No it is not fair, that’s simply the way it is.

Regardless of who you are working with or where they come from, you will always be practicing an alternative form of spirituality if you are working with demons. You will always be subject to ridicule for it.

In the last couple posts I’ve made about this, people gotten so over consumed with the logistical claims I was making about the religions of Judaism, Christianity etc. that my main point was completely lost. It’s not my place to speak as a Jewish person, so I’m going to speak only as a demonolater and my experience. I’m still debating deleting that post because the point seems to have flown over everyone’s heads.

So I’m just going to be as direct as possible. Yes. Religious people have always and likely will always be offended by demonolatry regardless of what demon you’re working with.

If you’re using a name that was used by a religion to identify a negative spirit, you are very likely going to offend that religion by using that name and seeking them out. It’s up to you to decide if you care that your practice is offensive to others, because it always will be. The only way to work around actually appropriating any of these religions is to make these demons your own. Just as they encountered and documented these spirits, pagans and demonolaters can do the same, discover their own names, and use them to identify these spirits. In the very short conversation I had with (L*lit) on this subject, she was very excited about the idea. Many goetic demons don’t even use the names documented in the Lesser Key because they were recorded by people who did not respect them. Prince Cerberus never allows me to call him Naberius.

Of course these spirits don’t give the slightest bit of a shit whether your practice offends the church. Nor do they care if you use a Hebrew name. But humans care, and if a religion is asking us not to use the word they invented then okay. That’s easy to work around. We’re still going to be worshiping these demons.

Satanists, Luciferians, and all those who walk the left hand path have never been regarded positively by Christianity. They will never understand why we do what we do and how we benefit from it. This has always and likely will always be the case.

Lucifer isn’t going to abandon his cult because Catholics have a problem with his worship. Nor are the followers of Asmodeus going to stop worshiping him because Jews don’t like it. This is what demonolatry is.

At the end of the day, you will offend someone. That’s the reality of the left hand path. You will be hated and you will be used as a negative example. These energies have been demonized and so will you. If that’s too anxiety inducing for you, demonolatry might not be the path for you. This has never been a popular path for a reason. Demonolatry has never been about pleasing the church.

There’s 1000 other things that I do that are offensive to religious people. I find the accounts of ancient Christian magis and other religious people to be valuable because of the information they provided on these spirits. They were the only accounts of these spirits that have actually survived. But I have no interest in appeasing the beliefs of these magis, or really anyone else but myself.

So yeah. I can’t believe “demon worshippers are offensive to religious people regardless of which demon they are worshipping” was my most controversial take of 2025 so far, but yeah. It is what it is.

[faramirsonofgondor]

i love you season 1 of the flash

[bialbovi]

I know I don't need a label to live but god do I feel miserable sometimes (paradoxically from the label and the unknown)

I am genuinely happy for my friends and their love but it is such a maze for me and maybe that's how it's supposed to feel

I've confused a friendship with what my ex friend considered "romantic" and I regretted it when I agreed to date, all this was resolved later because I confessed our feelings vary a lot

Thing is I do not feel miserable because I do not have a partner right now, absolutely not, I feel so happy because I get free time for myself and for my friends and other stuff and hobbies

I don't even want to date right now or anytime soon. And I still hang out with my friends and I am satisfied. Socially, I mean. But in the future I would love for it to work out with a future friend

I feel miserable because I am afraid that this label is going to fit way too well and I wish I was wrong. I wish I'll discover that I'm an aromantic who can feel romantic attraction just a little. for just like one person. it's scary because I don't know how it's supposed to feel

maybe I'm just an aromantic asshole who has suuuuuper unrealistic expectations, that could be the case as well

but... when would it ever stop me? I am well aware that we are all imperfect works in progress and I really want to think people are comfortable with me, or well most of them. I try to approach most people I meet, because gods I love meeting people and getting to know them, and if we establish trust we can talk about more complicated stuff and I am like down to. Because I cannot handle smalltalk constantly, we need to throw in some deeper thoughts and- and

I don't know

It just feels funny because out of all people why am I, the one who is (100%, I am so fucking sensitive) very sensitive and emotional and overthinking and overanalyzing and you know. It's funny that I'm the one who just doesn't get romantic attraction and if it happened to me like right now I'd be scared shitless. Because I don't want the chemistry of my brain to decide what I feel randomly. Like I know love from the first sight is most likely an overblown thing but also people somehow get magnetized and they just stick to each other and then just something happens. Maybe I just love everyone??? Maybe my problem is I want to have a relationship somewhere in the future but this someone has to be a friend first, but that's like the bare minimum?? That's how normal people would build a relationship, would they not?? (I mean you can date even if you know each other for a week but hey. trust issues)

It's also funny because I actually love fandom shipping, oh I love pairings so much, I love putting my own characters into relationships and I love it when some pairing clicks with my preferences. but like hell I don't even know what they are feeling and I am probably dooming the romance a little too much but I like poetic shit. I just wish. I experienced a fraction of this. but not right now because I'd be uncomfortable. I want to dissect my brain. We could argue that "Hey Albo you probably write them through the lens of friends with benefits" DING DING DING WRONG. well not entirely because it feels like how I view relationships in general is friends. with benefits. but not entirely but like??? this shit is so complicated. none of my ocs are officially friends with benefits lmao they and my favourits characters have "proper" relationships. Maybe the reason why I like pairings is my creative attempt to tap into something I have not experienced. and ofc these relationships are not perfect but that's what I love about characters and people and------

Maybe that means I am not a lost cause entirely? But like... I understand the deeper connection between people but I have not felt it if it makes sense. I can't come up with a metaphor you get me

But I cannot see myself in a relationship. And I really want to.

And I am well aware that relationships do not have to fit a structure or be stereotypical, it can be anything

But also..thinking about relationships still makes me want to prioritize my autonomy and it feels like a relationship takes so much of your time, and some type of force keeps people together for decades, even living together. "duh Albo that's what you do in a relationship, usually". I know! And I still dedicate time to my friends but it feels like getting into a relationship would be very restricting.... or maybe I am hoping for the only ideal unrealistic option again..... sigh

Even though I could keep living as I do now, for some reason I am afraid my friends are going to eventually prioritize their significant others. we should not go there right now

I just don't want to stay alone forever.

I know there are demisexuals but that's not my case entirely

and yes even though I think I still have the label bisexual somewhere every single time pride month arrives I put the green stripes on my accounts because well it stays consistent for now

and I am in my early 20's oops

what is wrong with me (rhetorical)

Aromantics who want a relationship are Valid

Aromantics who DON'T want a relationship are a Valid

Aromantics who hope to feel romantic attraction are Valid

Aromantics who feel a LITTLE romantic attraction are Valid

Aromantics who are romance repulsed are Valid.

Aromantics that enjoy sex are Valid

Aromantics who "Sleep around" are Valid

Aromantics who want kids are Valid

Aroaces are Valid

Allosexual Aromantics are Valid

Queer Aromantics are Valid

Hetro Aromantics are Valid

AROMANTICS ARE FUCKING VALID

[snoopyhughes]

it's you, it's you, it's really all for you (nh13)

Happy winter fic exchange @puckology101 !!! For the plot I had in mind, I didn't think a Swiss Alps trip was realistic but I hope this does the trick. I tried to detail the beautiful Banff scenery as best as I could (especially for someone who has never been!) so I hope you could truly envision that.

As always, @wyattjohnston Demi thank you so much for hosting this event for our community!

This is 2k+ words, I don't believe there's any mentions of any defining traits but I have not done a thorough check to ensure that this is safe for all to read. If you would like me to do that, shoot me a message and I'm more than willing to double check.

Title from Video Games by Lana del Rey (the live version, iykyk) this is loosely edited!

Nico Hischier, in hind sight, was thrilled that Switzerland was not a part of the four nations tournament. His logical, captain sense knows that he should want to play hockey all the time, work on his game, and he does really love international play. However, he needed a break. The high powered, adrenaline filled season had taken a toll on his body and his mental capacity.

But deep down, he was thrilled. Because that means he gets to go on a trip with his best friend, Y/N. When some of the guys who weren't going to four nations decided to get a group together and take a trip to Banff, complete with skiing, the beautiful winter scenery, and two hot tubs on the property, he jumped on the opportunity, even faster when he knew Y/N could come with.

Dawson insisted that he invited his girlfriend because he promised her a trip on the all star break but she ended up not being able to go. Soon enough, almost all of the guys were inviting their partners, save for Luke who insisted on bringing his best friend Dylan Duke, never one for formalities with girls.

Nico was chronically single, but always by choice. He does not have enough fingers and toes to count the amount of times he's tried to show you how much he loves you, more than a friend, but it never works. Either you're lovingly clueless or you don't feel the same way, the latter causing a pit in his stomach. That being said, Nico will always pick you as his plus one to pretty much anything. If you ever suggest that he find a real date, someone who he might want to be romantically involved with, he shrugs it off immediately, letting you know that "he doesn't have time for a relationship right now" and that "you make him happier than any relationship ever could."

Everything leading up to the trip was relatively smooth. The private jet flight (that you'd never get used to) was like flying on a resort, you were able to get time off work with no problem, and even the packing didn't seem like as much of a chore as it usually does. But things started getting interesting as soon as you, Nico, and the group made it to the ski resort. You always knew you'd be sharing a room, that much never bothered you. You'd shared hotel rooms with him before, having not been a first timer on an all star break trip, which is essentially what this was. Coincidentally, all of the people on the trip ended up with rooms right next to each other. When you opened the door, you saw one huge king bed staring right at you.

You and Nico shared a look, assuming that your room may have gotten mixed up with the others. Sure enough, when you knocked on everyone's door, they all had the same set up as you. The only room with two beds on the floor, it seemed, belong to Luke and Dylan. You thought of asking them to switch, but you could only imagine Luke's dramatics and theatrics if you tried to suggest switching rooms.

"It really doesn't bother me, Y/N. As long as it doesn't bother you, I'm fine with it. Besides, did you see the size of that bed? It could probably fit a third person in there also." You really didn't know why you were so nervous. Of course, you had known you had feelings for Nico. But you always felt that Nico could never have any feelings for you. You had watched Nico flirt with girls in the bar after games, even on the trips you went on, awkwardly tagging along on his side. It was the same way he flirted with you sometimes. It made you feel like you were just another girl for him to flirt with. He had a naturally flirty personality, and you were just another person who came in contact with that.

As you opened the door to the bedroom again, accepting your fate, you took a second to look around and truly take in the room. You were amazed at what you saw. When you first walked into the room, you could clearly see the bathroom, with a jacuzzi tub and a waterfall shower, and even a double vanity sink. In addition to the huge bed, there was a massive TV set up across from it, some of the softest towels you've ever countered in your life, and a huge glass sliding door. When you moved the curtains, you couldn't help the gasp that had came over your mouth.

Nico had seen tons of beautiful mountain scenery in his lifetime, growing up in Switzerland. He had seen the mountains, the snow, all of it. And sure, you had seen snow. It was usually tinged with grey and brown, tire tracks and footprints ruining its true beauty. This, this pure, unaltered beauty of the mountain scene in Banff, it took your breath away. Nico couldn't help but smile, seeing your pure joy, watching the breath get stolen from your mouth as you observed the scenes around you.

"Nico this is... wow," you gasped, leaning in when he wrapped his arm around you, feeling him rest his head atop of yours. Your heart fluttered, feeling like you were meant to be here. "You're my best friend," you smiled nuzzling into his side. "Yeah, my best friend."

You should've known with the room situation that the guys were up to something. After all, Dawson insisted on booking the rooms, saying that Nico deserved a break from his "captain duties," causing Nico to rebut that "booking rooms on a vacation is hardly a 'captain's duty.'" But when you turned away from the mountains, you were beginning to discover that it was possible that you and Nico had gotten the "honeymoon suite." You had your own private hot tub on the deck of your room, the first floor patio backing up into a beautiful mountain scene. You imagined snow falling onto your face and hair as you and Nico lounged in the hot tub together. Your cheeks heat up at the thought, causing you to pull away from Nico. You couldn't allow yourself to get too caught up in the what ifs. If Nico really wanted to make a move on you, he would make a move, not the same move he had made hundreds of other times.

You found yourself in your bathroom getting ready with the other girls that were on the trip. Nico had already gotten ready and was downstairs at the bar drinking with the guys. Since you had gotten in to the resort after 5, you knew no skiing would be happening, so you made reservations at a nice restaurant in downtown Banff.

"So, how's it going with you and Nico? Do you like the room?" Dawson's girlfriend giggling, nudging you in the side. "I knew that couldn't have been accidental. Dawson seemed way too excited watching me trying to figure out how to unlock the room door," you laughed, nudging her right back. "It's so foolish. You both clearly love each other, but neither of you will make a move. It makes no sense. If you guys won't do it, someone else had to try it." You sighed, putting the cap on your lip gloss.

"I know what you mean, but I really don't think Nico likes me back. He acts the same way with every other girl he's come across. If Nico really wants to be with me, I want him to make it known, make it obvious. Do something that lets me know that it's me only, not me and the girls at the bar, not me and the girls who wait for him after games, just me." Whether you realized it or not, the other girls were silently taking notes, and as soon as you went to the bathroom at dinner, they told Nico.

When you arrived with the girls at the restaurant, you learned the guys were already waiting at a table. Nico's eyes lit up when he saw you, smiling wide and blushing at your prolonged eye contact. As you came closer to the table, he took a step toward you, pulling you into a hug. His large hand ran along your back as he pulled you in close, causing goosebumps to raise up your arms and on the back of your neck.

"You look absolutely stunning," he whispered in your ear, causing your cheats to heat up, a smile just as big as Nico's. Nico only pulled away to pull your chair out for you, again causing your cheeks to heat up, the girlfriends smiling around you, although you had genuinely no idea because you couldn't stop staring at Nico.

They wondered how you couldn't see how much he cared for you, more than anyone, especially any other girl. Even the guys could see how much he cared for you. The girls understood deep down, knowing how difficult it can be to be able to fully trust a man, especially if you had been hurt in the past by one. Because yes, they were taking notes to share with Nico. But they really didn't need to. And everything they told him, he already knew.

He knew exactly where you'd want to eat, knowing that you craved your comfort food when you were tired. It was the perfect place to eat after a travel day, and getting to the hotel when it was already dark. He knew your preferred seating choice, and of course he knew that you would want a table with a view of the mountains. He didn't care how much it cost him, or that he had to name drop himself (and Luke) to get the table with the view. All that mattered was that he could sit across from you, and watch you admire the view, while he admired you, which was really all that mattered to him.

And nothing felt more perfect than when the rest of the couples started either making their way back to the resort or to the next stop on their drinking trip down the Main Street in Downtown, you and Nico stayed. The two of you stayed, his hand softly brushing yours as you talked, him with his back to the window, taking that spot specifically so that you could see the scenery. And even as everyone left, leaving the two of you at the table alone, all he wanted to do was look at you. The way you smiled, the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you laughed, even the soft yawn you let out towards the end of the night made him smile, his cheeks hurting at the end of the night.

When the uber dropped you two off at the resort at the end of the night, Nico held the door open for you, helping you back into the room. When he moved from the front of your view and you saw what he had done, you couldn't stop the gasp from coming from your mouth. How he had done it while being at the restaurant and you being the last to leave the room, you truly didn't know. But you didn't need the logistics, because it all settled in for you.

It's you. It's always you. It always has been, and always will be. The most beautiful bouquets of your favorite flowers sat around the room, no flower petals on the floor because you both agreed that that was impractical. A bucket of champagne sat cooling right by the glass doors that outlooked the view, the most perfect view. It was then you realized that it was more than Dawson who picked this room, it was Nico, wanting to share the space with you. It was Nico who knew how much you'd love the view. It's Nico. It always has been, and it always will be.

When your eyes locked from across the room, your eyes finally looking up at his, which you knew had been on yours the whole time, you couldn't cross the room fast enough. And when your lips locked with his, everything else floated away. It was like nothing else mattered. As the snow fell in the background just behind you, you knew that it didn't matter where you were, and it didn't matter who came in the way. It was always you.

[dreamwavesexploringreality]

Unfinished business (pt 2):

Chishiya x Reader

Read the first part to understand

----

Sweat ran cold down her forehead as she struggled to focus on the task in front of her. Problems and options, numbers and equations... the more levels she cleared, the harder it became to maintain her concentration. Especially with that man staring at her from across the room. "Doesn’t he have his own issues to solve?"

Y/N hastily scribbled down the answer she had just calculated, and while the response was being processed, she dared to look up. Sure enough, he was watching her. Kai. She locked eyes with him, trying to appear intimidating, indifferent, and self-assured. A familiar smirk spread across his face—a crooked smile she had seen before, one that promised nothing but trouble. She felt her screen vibrate in front of her.

"49. Focus."

She turned her head slightly. Chishiya was still working, focused and seemingly absorbed in solving his problems. But she knew him too well, and the faint furrow between his brows was a clear sign that something was bothering him. Y/N typed the number into her console without even bothering to read the problem. "Correct."

Just as a new question popped up, the voice in her earpiece announced there were ten minutes left in the game. A surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins, and as she became engrossed in solving the problem, she didn’t notice the way the man’s expression darkened.

A soft melody flooded the room, accompanied by the creak of a door. Someone had finished. Y/N watched as the door to a player’s cubicle opened, granting them freedom. The game was over for them. He bolted out of his glass enclosure and approached the central console in the room. He stared at it for a few seconds, deep in thought. Whatever had crossed his mind was dismissed quickly, and with one last glance at the group, he walked to the exit, opened the door with ease, and disappeared.

Y/N glanced at Chishiya. He seemed to be calculating something internally—or so it appeared. It was inconceivable to her that someone could finish this test before he did. Chishiya looked at her from within his transparent cubicle, arms crossed over his chest. "What are you doing?" she tried to convey through her gaze. He just stared at her. His expression was fixed, inscrutable, as though he could see right through her. She sighed and refocused on her console.

"Seven points. I just need three more," she muttered to herself.

"Five minutes left in the game," the robotic voice blared in her ears, louder than before, reverberating through the glass and making it tremble.

A sharp, harsh sound was followed by a scream. A woman was trying to force open her door, her cries filled with desperation. Y/N covered her ears, trying to block out the panicked wails. That woman wouldn’t achieve anything by forcing the lock, and even if she succeeded, she’d be met with a deadly laser aimed straight at her forehead.

With trembling hands, Y/N solved two more problems. "Three minutes," her screen displayed. "One more problem."

Beside her, she didn’t notice Chishiya reclining in his cubicle, adopting an apparently relaxed posture. His white hoodie now covered his head, partially hiding his face and concealing his worry. He would never admit it, but yes, he was worried. He knew Y/N was more than capable of solving all the problems, but he also knew she wasn’t entirely focused. That man hadn’t stopped staring at her, and his mere presence at the start of the game had set off every alarm in Chishiya’s mind. A bad feeling settled in his gut as he deciphered, through body language, that the man already had his final answer but had chosen not to submit it, deciding instead to stay in the game—just like Chishiya.

Of course, he had finished the game before anyone else; he’d solved all the problems in just twenty minutes, leaving him time to study his surroundings. It was clear that not everyone would leave that room. There were players too panicked to answer correctly, their faces twisting in agony every time their consoles spat out a bitter "Incorrect." And then there was that man. He had finished about ten minutes after Chishiya. It was obvious from the way his posture had relaxed, and his eyes had locked onto Y/N. Chishiya had expected to hear the man’s door open and watch him leave, like any sane person fleeing imminent death would. But he hadn’t. Instead, the man leaned against the glass, glaring at Y/N as if he wanted to burn her with his gaze.

"Well, Y/N. You have a type," Chishiya muttered to himself, immediately regretting the thought. No, he was nothing like that man. He glanced at his console, where his final answer had been paused for the last twenty minutes. The "Submit" button glowed green, tempting him like candy to a child. He looked up. The man was still staring, trying to intimidate her. From the corner of his eye, he saw Y/N shift uncomfortably, struggling to focus.

"One minute."

Chishiya sighed under his hood, fixing his gaze on Y/N. She was definitely grappling with the last problem. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and typed into his console. One last hint… He could already hear her complaining on their way back to The Beach, hanging onto his arm, telling him she could have done it on her own and didn’t need his help. He would smile and agree, with that signature smug look of his.

"Send hint."

Then everything happened very fast. A flashing red light illuminated Y/N’s cubicle, accompanied by a loud alarm that reverberated through the glass. Chishiya flinched at the sight of her curled up in the corner, hands over her ears, eyes shut tight.

"The hint cannot be sent," his screen announced. Chishiya looked up. There, in the middle of the room, Kai stood tall and proud, his hand firmly pressed against a red button with bold letters: "Sabotage."

Chishiya didn’t hesitate. As if driven by an unseen force, he submitted his final answer and didn’t wait for his cubicle door to fully open before sprinting toward the central console. His hood fell back, revealing his face, and by the time he reached the console, Kai was already retreating, slowly, waving mockingly at Y/N, who was still curled up in her cubicle, teary-eyed, hands over her ears.

The burning rage in Chishiya’s chest demanded he go after the man, but his fear of losing her clouded his mind, forcing him to focus on the console before him. The word "Sabotage" glowed on the button, surrounded by neon red lights flashing in sync with the ones in Y/N’s cubicle. Below the button, a screen displayed: "Console 4 locked. To unlock, answer correctly..."

Chishiya took a deep breath, his eyes glued to the console. Thirty seconds. The problem was simple—at least for him. He typed quickly, entered the answer, and waited. One second, two seconds...

"Correct answer. Console 4 unlocked."

Chishiya’s head snapped up so fast he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He’d worry about that later.

"Y/N! Answer the final question!" he shouted, his voice raw and tearing at his throat.

Terror gripped him when she didn’t move, still huddled in the corner, her head buried between her knees, hands covering her ears, despite the alarm having ceased.

"Fifteen seconds."

Chishiya pounded on the glass of her cubicle.

"Y/N! Listen to me. Just listen. Enter the answer—‘white.’ It’s ‘white.’"

His voice was desperate, unrecognizable even to himself. But at that moment, all he could think about was a life without her. For the first time in his existence, he was truly afraid—terrified. He felt as though he was losing control, the reins of his life slipping from his grasp, leaving a painful scar he knew he would never recover from.

"Y/N," he whispered. Her name escaped him like a final breath, a last shred of hope. And then he collapsed, falling to his knees.

He felt a hand on his arm, pulling at him urgently. Chishiya’s body refused to respond. No, it refused to move. If that cubicle was going to explode, he would stay there. His survival instinct had been relegated to second place by something much stronger—something he dared not name. Giving his life for someone, staying by their side regardless of the cost... Ideas that had once seemed stupid, absurd, and incoherent had suddenly taken shape, transforming into the only thing that made sense.

Another tug.

"Move!"

That robotic voice.

"Five seconds.”

And then he saw her.

Her tear-streaked face, pulling at his lifeless body.

“Four, three..."

"Chishiya, move!"

Automatically, he stood, gripping her arm tightly. His calculations were quick—they wouldn’t make it to the door. Instead, Chishiya ran, dragging her toward the farthest corner of the room, away from the cubicles. He used the momentum to press her body against the wall, caging her in with his arms. Her face buried in his chest, he rested his head atop hers. He shut his eyes tightly and tensed every muscle in his body.

The explosion shattered the cubicles, sending shards of glass flying across the room. The ground shook violently, and the air grew unbearably hot for a few seconds, making it hard to breathe.

When he lifted his head, the air still buzzed with energy. His ears rang from the blast, but the silence that followed was equally overwhelming. He looked down, and his heart clenched in his chest.

"Y/N," he murmured, running his fingers through her hair, ignoring the shards embedded in the back of his hand.

She lifted her head.

"Chishiya," she croaked, her voice broken from crying. Her cold hands cupped his face, sending a shiver down his spine—not from the icy touch against his warm skin, but from the fact that she was there. Intact, as far as he could see.

A cloud of dust rose around them. The pair remained in that position for several minutes, just staring at each other, silently acknowledging the fatal consequences the game could have had.

"I... I knew the answer. I knew the last answer..." she said.

Chishiya felt himself tremble, slowly returning to his senses. She didn’t need to justify herself or prove her worth to him. He didn’t care whether she knew the answer or not because he was there, ready to help her. It had all been that other player’s fault.

He felt no need to ask her about the man. What he had seen and witnessed was enough to know that he had tried to kill her. Shaking his head, he rested his chin on her head one last time before rising carefully and offering her his hand. Ignoring the sting in his arms from the numerous cuts, he intertwined his fingers with hers without a word, leading her out of the room filled with debris.

He dismissed Y/N’s worried voice when she noticed the blood running down his arms, shaking his head in indifference.

Deadly silence and at a slow and steady pace, he led them to The Beach. He needed to treat his wounds and ensure she was alright, that there were no aftereffects from the explosion—though there were bound to be from the experience. He would take care of her. He would heal the physical and emotional scars that had undoubtedly torn at her soul. He would wash her hair that night and tuck her into bed, lying beside her to make sure no ghosts haunted her sleep. And he would kill that man.

Borderland changed people. He had seen it, and now he had lived it. After that incident, he knew he would never find peace while that person continued to breathe the same air as his girlfriend. No. Chishiya wouldn’t allow it. They would leave that place together, and he would ensure that no one—absolutely no one—stood in their way.

© 2025 [@dreamwavesexploringreality]

----

Hey everyone!

The long-awaited Part 2 of The Unfinished Business is finally here!

I really hope you enjoy it and that the wait was worth it. Let me know what you think—I’d love to hear your feedback!

Your support means the world to me. ✨

[revelboo]

Honestly at this point, we're all feral cats that came round when you left a plate of food out.... And now we just exist here, constantly begging for more food XD

All almost 1800 of you…

Disaster Hearts Pt 2

Earthspark Starscream x Reader

• “All I said was that his plan was flawed,” he says, and you cling to his servos as he seems to forget he’s holding you and gestures with the hand you’re clutched in. When he’d asked you if you wanted to talk about it, you’d been too stunned to come up with an answer. So, he’d started in on his problems. Well, problem. Megatron, the reformed warlord you’ve seen on the news. Your captor, Starscream as he’d introduced himself, all too eager to have a captive audience to listen to his complaints. “I mean, you can’t solve every problem with brute force. Even you must know that.” And you obediently nod when he looks at you expectantly, because it’s been a couple of hours and you’re pretty sure you’ve heard his entire life story at this point.

• “Right. Of course, not,” you say, little hands shifting on his servos. Squirming and he eases his grip some. “I mean, he made you his second in command for a reason. He obviously needs your advice and then doesn’t bother to listen. Sounds like a terrible leader.” Wings flicking he rolls the wrist of his free hand and huffs through his vents. For a filthy, little organic insect, you’re surprisingly astute.

• “You have no idea,” he growls, opening his hand so you can sit up instead of being trapped in his grip before he reaches to idly tug the bottom hem of your shirt back down with the servos of his other hand. “Not only was he inept and brutal, but he betrayed all of us. Turned his back on everything we’d fought so hard for.” Shifting to tuck your legs under yourself, you make what you hope is a sufficiently commiserating expression. Because you really want to keep on his good side. It’s not like your life is much, but it is yours.

• “That must have been hard on you after all he put you through.” Staring up at him with those wide eyes, he can’t deny your voice is soothing. And it’s not like he has anyone else to vent to. There’s no real cohesion anymore, the Decepticon cause splintering and everyone doing their own thing. Even his fellow Seekers don’t really listen to him. But you do. Reaching a decision, he tucks you close to his chassis.

• “Keep your hands close to your body,” he says and before you can ask what he means by that he transforms around you. And you can’t even manage a scream as you’re jostled and find yourself sitting in the cockpit of a jet. Inside Starscream. Heart hammering, you’re afraid to touch anything or move as you hear his turbines scream and you’re flattened back against his plush seat. Eyes closing, when he takes off, you don’t know what to make of the fact that he’s apparently decided to take you with him when you’d assumed that if you kept him happy, he’d just let you go. Trembling in anxious fear, you hear him start in on Megatron again.

Previous

[cugzarui]

initial worldbuilding

alternate history where humans went a bit more overboard with fossil fuels (and started with them a lot earlier) and global warming covered the world in oceans. society divided into three main categories:

landlobers: clinging to life on the few small islands that are left. even if they figured out fossil fuels were the problem they decided the world is already fucked so might as well keep using them. the technology of this group varies wildly from wild savages using sticks and stones to a technologically advanced society with like androids and stuff. the only limitation for them is they dont have enough land to develop too big or too quickly. plus the weathers kinda awful which makes things difficult. oh and the sea peoples

the sea peoples (pirates): most people couldnt evacuate to the islands but some managed to survive on boats. the islands eventually stopped accepting refugees and even started violently expelling them as there just wasnt enough land to support everyone. as a consequence, the sea peoples became much better at surviving on the water. and, at stealing from the landlubbers. eventually they became pretty self sustaining and don't really need to steal so much anymore but they still have animosity to the landlubbers over past grievances and so harass and steal from them as a way of life. there are also a few things they legitimately cant make on their own since they live on the ocean surface. specifically, metal. which requires mining ores to manufacture.

the sea peoples have a much more consistent level of technology; both because they need to maintain a minimum level of tech for their lifestyle, and because they have access to all the islands and their technology (though unreliable access).

mermaids/sirens/etc: some humans survived through rapid mutation and evolution, becoming semi-aquatic. these people had a rough road and barely survived, but now they are by far the largest group and are a major threat to the sea peoples. some were also genetically engineered by the more advanced islands.

these people generally become more like animals in their way of life as human technology doesnt work well underwater, and is difficult to make there. they do have impressive natural abilities though, including sonar, the ability to hold their breath for an hour at a time, excellent swimming, the ability to swim while sleeping, the ability to sleep with one hemisphere at a time and sleep for only four hours a night, resistance to cold, resistance to pressure changes, tough smooth skin (except the palms which are incredibly rough even when wet, giving them great grip underwater), and more. they do still need to go on land to breed and raise their young, and this is where the landlubbers get control over them.

the three groups eventually reached a sort of peace with each other. an uneasy peace with frequent bloodshed but peace nonetheless. pirates get to dock at land once in a while, maybe even move in and start a family (the landlubbers dont exactly have big genepools). the mermaids get to spend time on land to raise their young while being almost revered by the locals. the landlubbers get to enforce some demands on the pirates and mermaids. and pirates arnt mauled by mermaids whenever they fall overboard. oh and mermaids arnt hunted for sport by pirates (mostly).

There are certain very specific, unsustainable periods of history.

The Golden Age of Piracy lasted from the 1650s to the 1730s, and was really three different waves of piracy that all had their own specific causes and characters. My personal favorite has always been the post-Spanish Succession period, when a bunch of sailors and privateers were left unemployed and turned en masse to piracy since those were the skills they'd picked up during the war. This supply of pirates was obviously non-renewable.

The Wild West lasted between 1865 and 1895, depending on who you ask, not even a full human lifetime. It's a very narrow band of time, and of course it wasn't sustainable, there was only so much land to colonize.

There are lots of these times of change, conquest, colonization, and war, particularly in the last three hundred years. I always think they're interesting, mostly in how quickly the course of history moves on to some other relatively more steady state.

There's a thing that speculative fiction does where it stretches specific periods out to extremes, most notably with Medieval Stasis, but I think it's far funnier when applied to these tiny slices of history that have ballooned in the public consciousness. Either it takes heroic feats of worldbuilding to make it make sense, or everyone is just sort of okay with the idea of a Golden Age of Piracy that's implied to have lasted for a millennia.

[kazuhahalol]

▹ Jeff the Killer Headcanons

Basic NSFW & SFW headcanons of my favorite creep! I’m so sorry I’ve been out for so long, I’ll try to post more!

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, nsfw content

Disclaimer: Everyone is welcome on my page and I will not turn you away. However, it is your fault if you’re uncomfortable or peeved with my writing because I give multiple warnings prior to my content. thanks!

Appearance

⇀ I will not lie and say I grew up seeing Jeff as an accurate representation of what a burn victim would look like. I grew up with the skinny anime looking boy that most of us know as “Jeff the Killer”. Here are a few ways that I see Jeff different than how I used to see him when I was younger.

⇀ I honestly see him standing at around 5’7-5’9. I don’t expect him to be super tall like LJ, but not super short like BEN.

⇀ His skin is less of a white pigment and more pink since his skin has been burnt off and exposed. His skin has healed over time, making it look more like shitty patchwork over what a good recovery should look like.

⇀ I doubt he’d have hair but for the sake of fan service, if he did, it would probably be greasy. If he’s not living at the Wisconsin Sanctum for Wayward Boys (slendermansion) he’s not able to shower so he’d look dirty. No shower = no washing hair = greasy hair, scalp buildup and hair loss. In reality, Jeff would looked chopped AF.

⇀ His style hasn’t changed much from when he was 13. White hoodie and his black dress pants. He wears what’s practical and what he can get his hands on. If he did take the time to actually find clothing he approves of, I’d see him mostly being into something edgy.

⇀ Would have piercings but it would hurt like a bitch because his skin and tissues didn’t heal normally. He doesn’t mind because he likes the pain.

⇀ His glasgow smile heals overtime and he doesn’t mind it, but will occasionally carve it back open if he feels like it since it’s his signature look.

Personality

⇀ Edgelord.

⇀ People may say this is overdone, but I also see him as an arrogant asshole. There’s just something about him that screams, “I have a big ego and I’m going to make it everyone’s problem”.

⇀ Gets really pissed off when you call him his government or first name, “Jeffrey”, “Jeffrey Alan Woods”. He would tell you to shut the fuck up and to never say it again.

⇀ His sense of humor is twisted AF. He could be chatting with you and he’s suddenly bringing up how he tortured this poor school girl he kidnapped a few days ago and how much she was screaming, then laughs about it obnoxiously. The topic of the conversation was strawberries.

⇀ Doesn’t matter if it’s a person, place, or thing, Jeff is going to be obsessed with it if it catches his attention because he can’t like something like a normal person. One night he had ran into a girl that had managed to escape him, so he decided to stalk her to entertain himself, and now she’s all you hear about. “I can’t wait to sink my blade into her throat”, “I can’t wait to kill that fucking bitch. She kicked me in the balls”.

⇀ Has street smarts but is really dumb academically because he went crazy during 7th grade. He also mainly works off of impulse and never thinks before he speaks. All bite and bark.

⇀ Has a big ego. He’s obsessed with his own appearance and it’s hard for him to find anyone he deems attractive because his ideal type is basically himself.

⇀ Being completely serious, his type would be someone feisty and strong. Someone who can put up with his shit. He doesn’t like timid people or pushovers. He likes it even more if they can come up with run-on insults on the fly. He might save one of those for later.

⇀ Thick thighs, boobs > ass

Relationships

⇀ He’s toxic as hell and don’t even think for a second he’s not.

⇀ Gaslighter and manipulator.

⇀ Would never outright say that he “loves you”. His love language is acts of service, so he’d do small things for you like pick up something from one of his kills that reminded him of you and leave it at your door. He’d never willingly show the affection he has for you.

⇀ While we’re on that topic, he can be quite…different when it comes to romantic gestures. Gift giving was one thing, but he might even go the extra mile by carving your name into his own skin or random objects.

⇀ If you’re one of the creeps, he’d most likely loathe you at first but become attracted to your power. If you’re a normal person, he might’ve found interest for you while he was out on one of his kills and stalked you enough to feel something for you.

⇀ He is extremely obsessive and protective, often “marking you” so none of the other creeps lay a hand on you if you’re also a proxy living in the mansion. If you’re a normal person, he’s often stalking you. If he witnesses you getting bullied or harassed, the attacker ends up dead later that night.

⇀ Gets very jealous very easily. Be careful with him because it can get really ugly.

⇀ Platonic or romantic, everyone has to be careful around him. Jeff can go from being chill to being hotheaded in only a few seconds. Arguments often happen because of his low patience, leading to wavering trust and security in the relationship.

NSFW Beyond this point

⇀ Doesn’t usually call you pet names, but when he does it’s usually “Babe”, “Doll”, “Sweet Cheeks”, “My Girl”, “My Bitch”. (Girls, if your man is calling you “his bitch”, leave him immediately!!!)

⇀ Very rough in bed. He doesn’t hold back when it comes to marking you, leaving any spot untouched bruised and covered with hickeys.

⇀ His kinks are rather…questionable. You guessed he’d be into bondage, choking, and role play, but you weren’t expecting him to hold a gun or knife to your head or throat mid blowjob. He thrives on seeing your scared and confused expression while you suck him off.

⇀ Doesn’t care for aftercare. He cleans you up with a towel then slumps for the rest of the night. He could blow your back out, have you screaming all night then leave you shivering on the side of the bed with no blanket, snoring obnoxiously.

⇀ Before he met you, he would usually find one lucky girl whenever he’s in the mood to fuck. He wouldn’t force her, obviously. He’s a killer, not a monster. He would then leave without another trace, not caring enough to go back to her. It depends whether or not he’s in a good mood if he’ll kill her right after or spare her. He’s probably gotten someone pregnant and is unknowingly a deadbeat dad.

⇀ Six inches is all I’m going to say.

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Three

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97

I let out a deep breath while pulling my jacket closer to my chest as I continued the walk down the busy streets of New York City. It was after six in the evening and everyone was rushing to get home to enjoy the rest of their evening while I was trying to make it to the office in time, before he left. 

This wasn’t an easy decision I made, knowing the consequences that could follow. But I didn’t have any other choice. He was the only one that could help me with this.  

The thought of if he would even want to help me did cross my mind a few times, especially with how things ended, but there was a small part of me that hoped his feelings for me were still strong. Strictly to help me with my problem, nothing else. 

I hadn't talked to any of the three men I used to work with, deciding to stay off of social media because I couldn’t bother to see what happened with Bucky and Natasha. By now, he had to have realized that I was right; Natasha was faking the entire pregnancy. 

Yet, I hadn’t heard from him so maybe he still decided to stay with her. 

You told him to stay away. Eight months ago.

Shaking away the thought, I turned the corner and the all too familiar building came into view as with one last deep breath, I pushed through the door and my eyes landed on the person sitting at what used to be my desk. My heart hammered in my chest as his scent filled my senses. 

“Well, it seems like the job isn’t available anymore, huh?” 

He turned around in a haste in the chair, eyes grazing over every inch of me to make sure I had been standing in front of him. 

The last time we talked was a few months ago and we actually hadn’t seen each other since before I quit. He looked the same, hair and beard a bit longer. 

“Hi Steve,” I smiled. 

“Y/N?” 

Steve was quick on his feet to wrap his arms around me and lifted my body off of the ground a few inches. I closed my eyes at the warmth, silently missing him just as much. 

“How have you been?” Steve asked while setting me back onto solid ground. 

I nodded. “Good, I guess. How have things been here?” 

Steve hesitated, his shoulders going stiff. “Have you talked to him at all?” 

This time I shook my head so Steve gently led me to the couch in the main area of the office and we sat next to each other. He scratched at his beard, trying to find the right way to say this. 

“He’s gone rogue the last couple of months. He doesn't need mine or Sam’s help for anything, he takes care of the problems himself.” 

I pointed towards his office. “Is he here?” 

Steve shook his head. “I haven't seen him all day. He called me earlier to say he’s got something to take care of so he’s going to be at Power Brokers tonight.” 

My eyes narrowed. “He hates that club. Why would he go there?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed. “He doesn’t tell Sam or I anything anymore. We only show up here now in case he needs us.” 

“Are he and Nat-?” 

He placed a hand on my knee, stopping the words. “That’s something Bucky has to talk to you about.” 

With a slow nod, I contemplated my next move because I knew that if I went to Power Broker tonight, it would be a disaster from the start. That club was highly known as a black market, people trying to sell you things that you couldn’t buy anywhere else. But if you didn’t agree to it it would be highly unlikely that you would make it back out alive. 

“Are you going to tell me why you showed up tonight?” 

I gave Steve my attention now and shrugged. “Trust me, I would rather go to anyone else with this but Bucky is the only one that can help me.” 

He cupped my cheek. “Please be careful.” 

“Always,” I covered his hand with my own. 

The music of the club vibrated against my bones as I maneuvered my way through the seas of people, who did their best to either dance with me or sell me on their latest project they had hiding in their pocket. I ignored all of them, keeping my focus on finding the one person that I needed. 

When I asked the bouncers outside if they had seen Bucky, they were quick to give him up. 

“He’s been causing problems here all night but refuses to leave. The men we have here isn’t nearly as strong as he is to kick him out.”

I was on high alert, skin tingling with my senses, as I observed the giant open dance floor of the club until some commotion at the bar piqued my interest. I watched as a guy was thrown onto the glass bar top, black and gold fingers wrapped around his throat. 

“Where is she?!” 

The voice was deep, angry, and wanted to know the answers. 

My heart beat intensified as I marveled at how different he looked yet looking exactly the same. The brown leather vest that covered his broad chest was missing a sleeve, his entire vibranium arm on full display.  He didn’t look like a mob boss any longer but more so a soldier. 

The heat pooled between my legs but I squeezed them shut, knowing that now wasn't the time to think about that. 

“I swear, I don’t know where she is! Last I heard, they were in Budapest!” The man struggled for his life under the tight grip around his throat. 

“They were together?” 

The man on the bar nodded, as best he could. “That’s what my guys tell me.” 

As I saw a glimmer of sharp metal emerge from the pocket of the other man's vest, I finally decided to speak up. 

“Bucky.” 

My voice might have been hushed with the background noise of the club but I knew he heard because Bucky looked away from the man he had pinned, his once blue iris now dark stared back at me. The firmness in his body faded with his face softing, as he dropped the man to the floor below. 

“Doll?” 

I swallowed thickly at the old pet name because I couldn't get distracted, I needed to finish what I came for. 

“I need your help,” I admitted with a sigh. 

[crystallinecardinal]

“The strings are wrapped around you,” or, a discussion about Truthless Recluse, Pure Vanilla, and an idea of an awakening

One of the things I’ve been hung up on ever since finishing A Game of Truth and Deceit’s story is the fact that the things Truthless Recluse says does not feel exactly in character for Pure Vanilla. I’m sure this is the point. You’re supposed to get that feeling out of hearing him, Gingerbrave even directly points it out.

So, other than the corruption, why the so sudden change? Why is he suddenly turning against everyone? And most importantly, how is he supposed to get out of it?

Or, a CRK analysis/theory of sorts regarding Beast-Yeast episode 7, as well as how episode 8 might go, split into sections below the cut.

1 - An Introduction

I will start off by saying that before this update came out, I was one of the people adamant that Pure Vanilla was not going to end up corrupted. Not because I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, but because I couldn’t see a reason why.

For as much as Shadow Milk could break him, dig into his biggest fears and insecurities and make them appear real, there wasn’t a reason to me for him to suddenly turn against everyone on his own— not when those around him had consistently helped him, bringing him out of what might have been the worst dips of his bad mental state. Not unless Shadow Milk was able to really manipulate him into it.

Then again, I knew what Shadow Milk could do. I knew he could control the will of other cookies (seen with the faerie cookies), and disguise himself in another form (see: every time he impersonates the Light of Truth). I also knew Pure Vanilla would be vulnerable to him, both with the bad mental state, and by the fact that the first time they encountered each other, he was already struggling. The right strings being pulled could just make him snap.

And then, I saw Truthless Recluse. And I lost my mind.

So, the point of all this. I had been TERRIFIED before this update how Pure Vanilla would fall. I thought he’d have his sense of self broken, all his emotions toyed with, sure, but I wasn’t ready for a FULL CORRUPTION. Then I got to thinking: it’s been a pattern this happens, right? In the Ancient vs Beast chapters, they encounter each other, fight in some way, and the Ancient somehow loses their connection to their respective Light. They only awaken after, picking themself back up from the brink of defeat. And we already know Awakened Pure Vanilla exists, so that leaves the question: how do you help him? How does he come back from where he is now? How does he awaken if he’s already been “defeated?”

That’s what I’m here to discuss.

2 - The Spider-Man meme problem

So! Fortune Teller. That guy.

Almost everyone I saw took one look at him in the trailers and KNEW he was Pure Vanilla. Had to be. The voice was the same, appearance the same, motifs the same, the character design was a pretty big giveaway. If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, yknow. It’s probably a duck.

And that presumption was right! Fortune Teller is Truthless Recluse, and by extension, Pure Vanilla.

How can that happen, though? If Pure Vanilla talks directly to Fortune Teller, how can they be the same? Luckily, the game decides to answer this question on its own!

So, if this is a space the future of the past (the present) and the future of the present (just the future) can both exist… that means Fortune Teller, and by extension, Truthless Recluse, are likely from the future. Not only because we’ve seen PV walking around in the present, but because we KNOW how TR talks about PV like he’s dead, as well as because of a fun little quote from Shadow Milk!

“In the end, you will become me.”

This is what I’m going to be building the rest of this off of. Stick with me here.

3 - What’s that, puppet boy??

Lies. Manipulation. Deceit.

These are the things Shadow Milk lives for. But any good snake, any good spider weaving a web, knows that the best lies have a hint of truth to them. This is what I intend to dissect.

It feels... a bit strange to think that Pure Vanilla could become someone like Shadow Milk. And yet, the signs are already there. He isn't honest with himself, tells white lies in the hopes that it may make someone feel better rather than the cruel truth, and his mental state is already in a horrid place. Of course, none of these are particularly bad things, they're human, and I can't blame him for any of it. But they're also all undeniably things that could lead him to snapping. What's the point doubt is all that's left? What's the point that he delves into the comfort of the lie of fantasy? What's the point that reality is too much agony to bear? Is that not how the Fount of Knowledge became the Master of Deceit, finding that cookies enjoyed the sweet lie more than the cruel truth?

“In the end, you will become me.”

And so, he just might.

So, consider. If present and future can both at once in Shadow Milk's domain, if Fortune Teller is not merely an illusion, then who's to say Truthless Recluse isn't who Pure Vanilla is destined to become?

The best lies have a shred of truth. This is our (hypothetical) truth. If nothing changes, if Pure Vanilla falls to Shadow Milk's games, lets himself be broken, plays the role he's had laid out for him ever since he was young (once again, if we choose to take that as truth and not an illusion), then his fate is sealed.

"Despair follows in your footsteps... A river lies on your path. Cross it, and you will face unfathomable dread. Turn back... Turn back before it is too late. Turn back before the cold flames of doubt swallow you whole."

That river is fast approaching, if it hasn’t already.

4 - Finding truth, breaking strings

Let's circle back to one of my first points.

"Then I got to thinking: it’s been a pattern this happens, right? In the Ancient vs Beast chapters, they encounter each other, fight in some way, and the Ancient somehow loses their connection to their respective Light. They only awaken after, picking themself back up from the brink of defeat. And we already know Awakened Pure Vanilla exists, so that leaves the question: how do you help him? How does he come back from where he is now? How does he awaken if he’s already been ‘defeated?’"

Is episode seven not still following the same formula, yet iterating on it in its own unique way? Pure Vanilla comes directly into contact with Shadow Milk, and tries to defend himself the most he can. However, he's a lot more vulnerable than the others this time around— after all, lies and truth cannot exist without the other. They're not entirely opposites. After having his sense of self shattered, Pure Vanilla falls from the Spire. Somewhere, he loses his connection to his Light of Truth. Enter: Truthless Recluse.

We know Pure Vanilla will eventually be awakened (see: dev commentary), so how does he leave the state he's in? How do you come back from falling so far?

This is where our "Truthless Recluse is a future version of Pure Vanilla" idea comes in handy! To put it simply: he hasn't become him yet. Not in reality. The present Pure Vanilla has fallen somewhere deep, deep down, into the darkest abyss... And has yet to come back. It sets a perfect scene to trick those closest to Pure Vanilla to believe the lie wrapped in truth of his ‘death,’ doesn't it?

It also solves our characterization problem from the very beginning of this post. I never said he immediately becomes Truthless Recluse. Given that in this interpretation, TR is what PV will eventually become, it provides a reason for Truthless Recluse to say the things he does, and act the way he does. Maybe Pure Vanilla wouldn’t have said or done those things, but to Truthless Recluse, that part of himself has long been dead.

So. Where does Pure Vanilla find his truth?

It could be a lot of things. However, one of the main things I've seen reiterated is just how much Shadow Milk toys with the mind. Right now, Pure Vanilla likely believes his entire life is a lie. Not once has he had free will. Since birth, he has been a marionette on strings, a plaything for a being beyond everything he ever knew. Every action, every decision, it was just part of an Oscar-worthy performance. Everything he may have once defined as himself is null.

And even worse: there's no one to drag him out of it this time. White Lily is gone, off on her own mission. Gingerbrave and his friends have Truthless Recluse to deal with. The Light of Truth is silent. Everyone, everything he may have depended on isn't there. It's just him, the Other-Realm, and eyes that have been watching for his entire lifetime.

To get out, he has to break the strings. Just as he once awoke from his prison when he needed to confront his past, he can do it again. But this time, it isn't going to be while he hides under another identity, it isn’t going to be while telling himself a lie. Outsmart the snake, remember, remember, remember. Hold onto the love, the care, the things that are true. No amount of deceit can change how he once felt. They say the heart is true. Maybe that's the key out.

To put it more simply: no matter what it ends up being that causes it, he needs to realize himself that he is in charge of his own destiny. The truth of the question "who am I" is "whoever you want to be." It isn't an question that can be answered by someone else. You only become fully truthless, only fully wall yourself away from everyone if you choose to do so. It isn't fate.

And so, in the end, I think Pure Vanilla will awaken. By proxy, if my entire idea here were to be true, Truthless Recluse would cease to exist. Paradoxes are funny that way. There's no way for that ending to exist if it's no longer the future that lies ahead.

5 - A conclusion

I have absolutely no clue what's coming in episode eight. I'll say that upfront. I have no clue, and it terrifies me. I love Pure Vanilla, I want him to make it out of this, but I know he won't make it out unscathed. The tragedy could stay, it could just be for this episode, it's unclear. We just have to wait until episode eight goes live.

Regardless, I want him to struggle. I don't think it makes sense for him to get out of this easily. Not when he considers himself pathetic, not when he can't trust the voice of the Light of Truth, not when he's been questioning himself. Let that doubt sink into him. Let him rebuild himself, piece by shattered piece. It makes for an emotional story, and makes me like Pure Vanilla even more as a character. Maybe that's just the Omori fan in me, but I love delves into characters' minds like that.

It may not be anything like what I've discussed here, but I'm very excited to see what Devsisters does. This is all I'm going to be thinking about until then.

[renardtrickster]

It makes it clear that the United States considers trans people to be an "enemy", framing the existence of trans women as an attack on cis women, much like how homophobes claimed the existence of gay people was an attack on straight marriage. Even without policy, labeling an entire section of the population as "the other" will increase violence and discrimination against them, though the policies do come later. And if you think the violence of the Holocaust only began the moment they turned the ovens on, I have some premium Rolex watches to sell you on the cheap.

But yeah, if you want examples of the policy effects.

Defining "gender" to just mean "sex" and then erasing any recognition of gender not only legally defines trans people out of existence, it also makes them exempt from things like Title IX or any other protections. You can still be trans, just good luck landing a job, buying a house, renting an apartment, or anything else if someone in charge doesn't approve of your deal. It isn't discrimination, because the category they're discriminating against you over technically doesn't exist!

In fact, Section 5 might imply that you could now argue that if a workplace allows trans women to use the women's restroom, you could sue over that being an act of discrimination against cis women.

The final part of the order is just rolling back any previous protections granted to trans people. Guidance to protecting trans people from workplace or educational discrimination, guidance to schools addressing anti-LGBT+ bullying, protection for intersex youths. Those were already instituted, but he just wants to remove them. If someone wants to treat you like shit or ruin your life for being trans, they can just do it. Your problem now. FYGM.

Speaking of, federal mandates on bathrooms based on biological sex. "Men disguising as women and sneaking into toilets to rape" was never happening in any significant manner, but don't worry! Now visibly feminine people can either wait until they go home to piss (subtly freezing them out of existing in public), or use the men's restroom where they're much more likely to be beaten or sexually assaulted (but it's happening to an undesirable so it's okay).

Federal documents have to ID you based on sex, meaning that not only does the government get to decide what your identity is on your paperwork, but anyone who got their gender marker changed could have their passports confiscated, driver's licenses cancelled, or just straight-up be charged with fraud. For the crime of putting an "X" or "F" or "M" on a little plastic card.

If you do shoplifting and end up in jail, those are now based on sex. Meaning trans women in men's prisons. Meaning they get denied access to medical transition (even ones they were doing before), are forced into wearing men's clothing, heads shaved against their will, and an increase of sexual harassment, assault, and sexual assault from the guards and other inmates. And in spite of the fact that "men disguising as women and sneaking into women's prisons to rape" is just as much fearmongering as the bathroom shit was.

I don't imagine that any of this is going to convince you. You'll either say it's fearmongering and it's not going to happen (until it already happens, in which case oh well), or nitpick the sources and say they're pro-trans and therefore biased (meanwhile your source is a gut feeling), or that none of this matters because sex and gender are self-evident biological truths (which you want the government to enforce with violence). But I'm not really interested in convincing you of anything. You're a 34 year old republican wife who still uses tumblr and your icon is *the* anime shota, you're a fairly ridiculous person. If you do realize how in the wrong you are and seek to learn more in the future that's great. I mostly just wanted to remind everyone what the current stakes are, and how incurious and unintelligent the people who want us dead are.

"You're overreacting, nothing will happen!"

Immediately upon his inauguration, Trump made an executive order that America will now only recognize two genders.

All of you that didn't vote or voted third party can go choke.

[detritus-of-the-earth]

The universe has decided to let Kelpie live for another day, and he's about to make that everyone's problem.

He wakes up sometime after noon, escaping from Selkie -who has been clinging to him like he's a stuffed animal- and hobbling over to the kitchen.

"Choccy milk?"

- @eyes-that-decieve

Lucy being Lucy, she's already cooking breakfast. Or, more accurately, she's holding an empty pan over the stove and anticipating food manifesting. She hasn't really eaten in years.

The pantry is empty. Her hands are cold.

"Oh? Oh, yes, let me make you some."

[azspot]

In practice, no monarch or dictator has ever been able to govern with absolute power without fear of the ultimate sanction, namely, assassination or revolt. Which just as obviously underscores a theoretical problem with monarchy or dictatorship: how does one person rule everyone else? Even in a single nuclear family, one person who asserts total authority over all members of that family discovers that you can’t always make people do what you want them to do by any means. A family monarch can beat and torture kin, forbid behaviors, control finances, confiscate contraband, wheedle and persuade, or tolerantly suggest preferred practices. Even if the family gets moved to a place where no other people reside (a theme of various fictions both grim and upbeat), even if there’s nowhere to hide from power, a domestic monarch will hit hard limits on what they can command—and have their dependence on the voluntary obedience of family members be constantly revealed. If your power relies on people deciding as independent agents whether or not you deserve to have it, in a constantly mobile re-evaluation, it’s not absolute. The Great Santini stops being in charge the day his son won’t obey him, the day his whole family turns on him.

The News: We're Talking Kings and Succession