#THE BAD WEATHER PARALLEL?? REALLY????

[raayllum]

Was originally going to do a screencaps post but then it was getting a little unwieldy so here's a short meta post about Callum's story to Ezran in 7x09, specifically how it pertains to Callum's broader character arc in arc 2 and the show's narrative as a whole.

So we start out with an easily accessible, likely drawn from life sibling scenario. (I too, for example, had a beloved toy accidentally adjacently broken by a sibling.) This also ties us into 4 important things, however:

The game and toy motif, primarily present surrounding Aaravos and the key, as well as other objects of note this season (i.e. Ezran holding onto the elf toy from 1x04 at his angriest in 7x03 and 7x09).

Reaffirmation of Callum's tendency to get fixated on / emotionally attached to objects (old meta on it here).

In the scenario, while we don't whether Ezran was 'at fault' (he was a Baby lmao) the harm caused was. This parallels Rayla's absence and return in S4, as Callum states, "And she messed [things] up" with himself being the party not at fault ("I was so mad" in 4x05 & 7x09)

The concept / theme, to varying literal degrees, of something being broken, whether in people, relationships, or the continent itself (bigger meta on that here):

This is reaffirmed further in what Aanya says to Ezran on the bridge in 7x03:

I know it hurts right now, Ezran. But you need to know that you and Callum are not broken. The both of you will heal one day. You’re brothers. It’s okay to be angry, and it’s okay to be sad.

However, the toy isn't really a metaphor for their relationship. Callum doesn't say that it was mended, or if it even could be. He moves on instead to what their mother told him, which likewise echoes what Aanya says:

Again, there's a reaffirmation of needing to feel, and letting yourself feel, the bad emotions. Anger is not inherently bad and sometimes we need to be angry, even or especially at our siblings. Like Aanya, Callum, and Sarai say, it's okay to be angry and to be sad. But — as we see Karim and Janai are unable to come back from ("all you do is look at me with contempt!") — you can't let the feelings stick. You have to let them go.

Harrow's heart burned with anger (3x06); Ezran has fire in his eyes as he hears Runaan out; and Aaravos wants to set the world on fire. But anger cannot — or should not — last forever... because what is left for you afterwards?

The other implicit message is Callum and Sarai knowing, and now communicating to Ezran, that however much he loved that toy "more than anything in the world," it ultimately meant nothing in comparison to his brother.

CALLUM: You're my brother, and you mean everything to me. (2x06)

CALLUM: I'm sorry, Ezran. I can't be your High Mage anymore... but I'll always be your brother. (7x02)

This is also, in many ways, how Callum frames his relationship with Rayla once he learns to forgive her as well. He knows that he needs her (implicitly) and that they're a team; he reaffirms "it was always her" much the same way he knows he will "always be [Ezran's] brother". His bonds of love are strong and can weather any storm; he still wants them in his life, and will always want them and need them.

This raises an interesting concept to Aaravos, who is deeply hurt and angry at his family (the other First Elves), referring to himself as "their dark brother" (TDP shorts, Patience). He wants them to suffer, and he wants them to hurt... but is there any other way forward? Is there any hope of forgiveness, or reconciliation? He clearly believes that they can never change unless through force... but what if they could? What if they could be brothers again, the same way that Callum ("there is great affinity between your brother and I [...] he understands the need for compromise") and Ezran are?

It'd also tie into Claudia and Soren's sibling dynamic, as their mother counselled a similar message to Sarai: "that my brother and I needed each other."

If Callum and Ezran coming together can represent the continent, and Aaravos + the Cosmic Council, and Soren and Claudia one day coming back together, too.

[whimsicalpolitical]

Stormy ride // Matty Healy x Reader

a/n: idk how it is with you but weather is so shit right now, I’m in a stormy mood

summary: you’re in the car with Matty but you have to pull over cause it’s storming too bad, now you have to spend your time otherwise

content warning: stormy weather, swearing, smoking, p in v, dry humping, fingering

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It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.- Edward Bulwer-Lytton

You’ve been on the road for two hours now and still not at Matty‘s house. Usually it takes 50 minutes but it’s already 9pm and you lost all hope that you’ll arrive today.

„Oh for fucks sake,“ Matty cusses, hitting the steering wheel at the third red light in a row.

The rain is still pleasant, the windshield wipers are still set to the slowest setting but the clouds are thickening and getting darker while the sky is turning black.

„You’ve got to be joking,“ his right hands comes up to his face, to rub his forehead and sigh out. The second the light turns green you expect that you can drive immediately, however the driver in front of you doesn’t move at all.

„Start driving you wanker,“ Matty honks and screams at the driver ironically because he can’t hear him. You giggle at his impatience. Driving for a long time in the rain is annoying, especially when you’re not the only one on the road, having to stop a lot.

„Relax,“ your hand squeezes his thigh, resting there, which pulls Matty out of his angry state.

Matty’s hand comes on top of yours, his thumb rubbing slow patterns on your skin. „Sorry love, just wanna get home.“ He brings your hand to his mouth kissing every knuckle.

„Your hands are fucking freezing,“ he says mildly, bending his head to look at the way your nails are turning blue. „I already turned the heating to 71 Fahrenheit.“

He brings your hands up to his face and blows warm air on the blue tips of your fingers, massaging them with circular motions to force the cold out of them. Your heart picks up at the way your hands disappear beneath his, what’s visible of them looking small in his gentle grip.

„My hands are always cold but it’s worse when it’s storming outside, I don’t know,“ you shrug, „I feel the cold.“ You wink at the parallel to ‘girls.‘

Matty snorts at you quoting him. “Fuck off.” He shrugs his jacket off with one hand, keeping the other steady on the wheel. He drapes it over your lap, its warmth immediately soothing. “S’ should help.”

“Thanks Matty,” your heart swells with affection as you look at him.

The rain began as a light sprinkle, but now it is pouring, the sky dark and heavy with clouds. You glance over at Matty, his hand firm on the wheel, while the other still holds your hand, eyes focused on the road. The windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the rain, swishing back and forth.

“I don’t like this weather,” you admit, goosebumps spreading all over your body, shuddering at the dark road in front of you.

The storm outside intensifies, lightning flashes across the sky. You tense, trying to ignore the unease creeping up your spine. Matty's thumb strokes your hand in slow, soothing circles.

"It's just a storm," he says softly, his voice calm.

You nod, trying to relax. Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder booms overhead, shaking the car. You flinch, your hand tightening on Matty's thigh.

“Easy there, love. If you squeeze any harder, I might not be able to drive properly.” He jokes, glancing over at you for a second to make sure you’re actually alright.

“Caught me off guard, sorry.” You pull your hand from him but he finds your wrist to keep it on his thigh.

“It’s just a bit of weather,” he reassures, “nothing I can’t handle.” He has a smug grin on his face but you’re not really in the mood to smile at his jokes, feeling like the road is getting more slippery.

Right now you’re driving through the -well known- forest road which takes up to 20 minutes to drive all the way through. There is nothing but dark trees beside you, the lightnings lighting up the green color only for a split second.

Matty doesn’t seem really bothered by the weather, only annoyed that the ride back takes so long. You are too. The thought of laying in bed with Matty- a warm bed- makes you more excited to finally arrive. If you arrive.

“Love, you’ve gone quiet there,” he observes, your grip on his thigh also a bit loose. “Does the weather bother you this much?” He tries to find any concerns written in your face but it’s gotten also very dark in the car, just outlines to recognize.

You nod, hiding both of your hands under Matty’s jacket on your lap. “Maybe we should pull over, wait till it’s a bit better?” you suggest, your voice barely above a whisper, barely audible over the roar of the rain hitting the car.

“I wouldn’t mind to keep driving, you’re the scared one,” a smile tugs at his lips, “say the word and I’ll pull over.”

You flip him off and turn your head to observe the weather. You can’t see anything besides when the surrounding lights up. You hear however a lot, which is making you fucking crazy.

“Pull over?” You ask, turning your head back to Matty, who is already nodding and pulling to the side of the road. You didn’t see a single car in front or behind you since you’ve been on the forest road, but Matty turns on the hazard lights anyway.

“Anything for my girl,” he remarks, stopping the engine, the rain getting louder. “Didn’t know you hate storms so much.”

Matty leans back, his hand reaching into his hoodie pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. With a casual flick of his wrist, he flips open the lid, revealing the neatly lined rows of slender white sticks. He selects one and deftly tucks it between his lips, his movements smooth and practiced.

Then he pulls out his lighter, tugging the packet away. With a quick motion, he sparks the flame to life, holding it steady as he brings it to the end of the cigarette. The flame dances and flickers, casting fleeting shadows across his face as he takes a long drag, the tip glowing bright orange with each inhale.

You watch him, unable to tear your eyes away as he exhales a plume of smoke, the scent hanging heavy in the air between you. There's something undeniably alluring about the way he handles the cigarette, a sense of ease and confidence that draws you in despite yourself.

You unbuckle yourself and pull your feet up, Matty’s jacket wrapping around yourself, trying to keep you warm.

Matty takes a long drag, the ember pulsing with each inhale. He exhales slowly, the smoke swirling around him in lazy tendrils. “You know,” he says, his voice low and husky, "there's something about the quiet of the forest at night. It's like being in a whole other world.”

“Weirdo,” you laugh which is quickly replaced by a quiet inhaling sound when another roaring of a thunder is passing through the air. You shudder, your hands shaking in your lap.

“What are you on about,” he asks, taking the last drag of the cigarette before opening the car door, letting the cold air fill the car, to throw the end of his cigarette outside. “You’re still shaking.” He states.

Matty too unbuckles himself now, rolls his seat back and adjusts it so that there is more space in the footwell. Then he empties his pocket and puts his lighter, his cigarettes and his phone on the front of the desk.

You’re curious on what he’s planning, drowning out the sounds of the storm with watching Matty’s curls fall into his face when he looks around him to check if everything’s alright.

“Come here,” he finally says, pulling his jacket off of you to grab your arm.

“Matty,” you roll your eyes, thinking he’s just going to tease you about freezing and scaring your ass off.

“Come here,” he repeats, spreading his legs a bit, “m’not joking, hate to see my girl freezing.”

That does it. You climb over the console, wrapping each leg on each side of Matty, lowering yourself onto him, onto his warm body. You sigh contently, your head immediately resting on his shoulder.

Matty wraps the jacket he pulled off of you over your shoulders again, doing everything he can to keep you from turning into an ice block.

“There we go,” he feels you relax as his fingers brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, not from the cold, but from the electrifying touch of his fingertips. You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze, a silent exchange of longing and affection passing between you.

He’s smiling at you, and you don’t have a single moment to spare to register that he’s leaning in before his lips are on yours. 

You sigh into the kiss, pleasantly surprised to be interrupted in this way, and glad your hands are free so you can hold onto him. One second of it and you’re ready to collapse under the sweet weight of it all. His arms circle your waist to pull you against him, and your arms circle his neck, keeping him close. As close as you’ve really wanted him.

When you finally break for air, it’s only to press your foreheads against one another’s, not wanting to move too far. “Don’t seem so scared now.”

You hit his chest playfully before leaning in again to brush your lips against his. “Want me to make you forget about the storm? S’that it?” He asks between kisses, his hands resting on your hips, giving them a light squeeze when you bite his lower lip slightly. You just nod, too busy to answer him.

“Say it to my face darling, you haven’t got that tongue for nothing,“ he grabs your ass and starts to help your body grind against his growing bulge. You’re already clenching against nothing, huffing and puffing as Matty‘s lips travel down your neck and licking wet stripes on the sensitive skin there.

“Distract me Matty,“ you whisper, head falling back as Matty keeps sucking on your neck.

“Anything‘ for my girl,“ he growls in your ear, biting your earlobe gently right after, thus causing you to shiver.

Your hips stir over his, and Matty audibly groans. At last, he drops a palm to your ass and gives it a taut smack, and your whole lower half reverberates with the sensation—and a welt of pleasure.

“Fucking hell,“ he groans, your hips rolling over his again, this time with more pressure. His fingers trail from your thighs up to your pants opening your zipper. “Lift your hips for me,“ he pleads, puppy eyes looking up at you. “S‘ too tight in here,“ he mumbles.

You lift your hips, letting Matty pull your pants down, leaving your panties on before slamming you down onto him again. The friction of his jeans is now rubbing against your clit perfectly making you gasp into his mouth. “Needy little thing,” he hisses as you rock yourself on his bulge.

Matty slots his hand between your legs to rub against that dampened patch of fabric. You almost jump. His fingers slip beneath your panties and make swift, easy contact with your heat. You bury your face in the crook of his neck to try to muffle the sounds that are clawing their way out of your chest, while your hips tilted up.

“So wet f’me,” your hips rock back and forth over his fingers—sliding the two digits in and out of your cunt with each motion. He works his free arm under your body and pinches hard on one nipple, eliciting a soft moan of ‘Matty’ above him.

“Love your tits,” he has a boyish grin on his face, acting like it’s the first time he has touched your boobs.

“Oh, baby,” he breathes, watching you rut your hips for more friction, “use my hand to make yourself feel good— that’s my girl.”

If you would still be grinding on his bulge instead of fingers, he would’ve cum seconds ago, you’re messy hair and flushed cheeks enough to pull him over the edge as well as the friction on his cock.

“Matty,” His fingers curl up and hit that sweet spot inside you, your barriers beginning to crack with each thrust of his fingers.

“Make a mess baby,” he encourages, keeping the same pace hitting your sport, “show me how good you feel.”

Your hips are grinding erratically, Matty’s tongue is pressed against your neck, and your clit is twitching. Sparks linger in your vision as your eyes fly open and find lust-darkened orbs, watching you fall over the edge of your orgasm.

“That’s perfect,” he hums, kissing you while you’re riding out your orgasm, “always so good for me.” He pulls his fingers from you, a whine leaving your lips, your head falling back against his chest which is heavily moving up and down.

He takes his fingers into his mouth groaning around the sweet taste of you, “need to be inside you right now,” he groans, opening his belt. Your hand swats his away and he throws his head back, a grin on his face when you first palm him through his jeans.

“Baby don’t-“ he begs, his hips involuntarily thrusting up to meet your hand, “don’t want to fucking cum in my pants like a pathetic teenager.”

You listen and lift your hips again to pull his pants and boxers down, freeing his hard cock which is leaking with pre-cum.

You don’t waste another second. You wrap a hand around his length, slowly sinking onto him. Your cunt stretching around him and you both grown into each others mouth as the pleasure hits you. Matty pulls you into a kiss again, trying to keep his sounds as quiet as possible.

“You feel so good,” he has his hands pressed deep into your hips, helping you move in a fluid motion. You feel him hit your sweet spot as you make your way down, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling.

“Fucking knock yourself out,” you can’t hold in the loud moan you had been holding, feeling your stomach flutter at his words. You feel a slight burning in your thighs and you know Matty’s shoulders hold tiny crescent shapes from how tight your grip has become. You feel one of Matty’s hands move to your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves.

His cock twitches inside of you and he holds your hips down for a second, preventing him from coming too soon. When you lift your hips again he lets out a guttural sound, bunch of ‘baby’s’ leaving his mouth.

He grabs your chin, making you look him in the eyes. You look at him and grin, fucked out and eager before he thrusts up into you. “Close,” you whisper and he nods, “fuck,” is all he can say.

You rake your fingernails down his tattooed chest, lowering only to reach back behind yourself, and grab his thighs. Adjusting yourself before dropping back down and bouncing on his cock, feeling him repeatedly strike a deep spot within you that causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head. 

Fuck, you felt absolutely incredible around him, and not only that, but you looked beautiful the entire time. Breasts bouncing in that tight pullover, ass jiggling, and repeatedly smacking into his thighs, slightly sweaty with the scent of sex tainting each other's bodies. 

Your hips rocking at your own pace, it was starting to become unbearable on Matty’s side of things. His hips were trembling to the sound of your wet folds struggling to take him all the way down to the base. 

“Let go darling,” His tongue slides into your mouth, parting your lips as the rough skin of his thumb rubbed rough circles against your clit.

The new sensation is enough to drive you over the edge, and Matty is watching your body tense and tighten. The feeling of you squeezing around his cock, drawing out his own orgasm, his thrusts stuttering as he continued to ride out yours. 

“Christ,” he shudders, prepping kisses all over your face, his cock softening inside of you. “How are you feeling love?” You giggle at his attempt to focus his attention but he looks just as fucked out. Pupils dilated, curls sticking to his face and his chest flushed.

“Very good Matty,” you offer him a smile, sliding off of him, pulling your pants up and get Matty dressed before sitting down on him again. “Sorry,” you say, suggesting to his stained pants but he just chuckles, kissing you, rubbing your lower back.

“Don’t ever apologize for that,” he hums, your hand finding its way to his hair, wrapping a finger around his curls, “it’s wickedly hot.”

“And look at that,” he looks outside, only small thuds of rain hitting the window, most of the storm having passed. “Can finally drive home and take proper care of you.”

You get off of him, climbing back over the console to sit down in the passenger seat, fixing your clothes the right way and wrapping his jacket back around your thighs.

You lean your head over to give his cheek a gentle kiss and then resting your head on his shoulder.

The drive back is way more relaxed, no thunder, no lighting, you can finally drive your attention to Matty and his singing skills to ‘teenage dream’ by Katy Perry.

[vickyvicarious]

It seems like the general first impression was "The Demeter crew is suffering and sleepless and dying, while Mina is having a nice sightseeing vacation", but... Doesn't it seem less of a contrast than that?

Lucy's now increasingly odder sleepwalking was there from day one of Mina's arrival, making Mina sleepless. While the crew sleeps with one eye open.

Even on the first day on Whitby, Mina was taking about death and lost ships. While the crew was beginning to lose men. Mina and Mr Swales talk about tombstones and suicide. While the First Mate jumps to his death.

*Mina voice*: the reports of my hot girl summer have been greatly exaggerated...

You're onto something here, definitely. Of course, in the original book, we don't see anything from the Demeter until a little ways into Mina's stay, so it (re)reads as more foreshadowing than it seems like a parallel, but that's one of the really fun things to notice in the daily format! I'm reminded of Lucy's three suitors and her letters about looking into her mirror coming so soon on the heels of Jonathan's encounter with the three vampire women and with his mirror getting broken.

I never noticed just how much a lot of Mina's storyline here lines up so well with the Demeter though. And now that I'm thinking about it... There's a bunch of those kinds of connections!

Of course, there are overall ones. Like you said, Lucy's sleepwalking begins right away, and it robs Mina of her sleep. Meanwhile, the crew of the Demeter are kept awake by storms, by double-watches, by having to pick up the work that no one else is left to do. But though that's pretty overarching, there are also some moments that line up really well. For example, July 27: "Lucy walks more than ever, and each night I am awakened by her moving about the room." and July 28: "Four days in hell, knocking about in a sort of maelstrom, and the wind a tempest. No sleep for any one. Men all worn out."

Then there are Mina's conversation with Mr. Swales, especially the latter one with its talk of suicide, of going to hell - only two days before the mate leaps to his death rather than allow Dracula to get his soul. Mr. Swales also parallels the first mate a bit in being, as Mina says, "a most dictatorial person in his day" and very insistent that there's nothing supernatural going on, though as yet he's not been proven so terribly wrong about that the way the first mate was.

On July 24, Mina says there is "a buoy with a bell, which swings in bad weather, and sends in a mournful sound on the wind. They have a legend here that when a ship is lost bells are heard out at sea." That same day the Demeter is approaching more bad weather, and later on they get lost in the fog. (Though we never get mention of any bell ringing.)

Mrs. Westenra is afraid of Lucy's sleepwalking because she "has got an idea that sleep-walkers always go out on roofs of houses and along the edges of cliffs and then get suddenly wakened and fall over with a despairing cry that echoes all over the place." On August 2, the captain is awoken by a cry that sounds close, but which he cannot see the source of in the fog. The next day, the mate runs up onto the deck crying out after being figuratively 'wakened' to the true horror of who he's up against just before he leaps over the side of the ship. Also on August 3, Lucy goes about searching for the key so she can get out, and the mate went searching through the boxes in the hold. He clearly found what he was looking for, and it had terrible consequences; if Lucy finds what she seeks in her sleepwalking, what might happen to her?

And, one that I can't believe never occurred to me before... Mina's not only worried about Lucy, of course. She's very afraid for Jonathan. Because he, much like the men on the Demeter, has vanished unseen. He went off to his work (on watch/work trip) and hasn't been seen since. Even when she hears from him, it's brief and she can sense the letter is uncharacteristic of him, short and lacking detail. The reason, though she doesn't know it, is of course that Dracula stopped him from saying anything else/more. Jonathan's real sentiments and words were 'lost in the fog' so to speak (the false trail laid by the letters being the metaphorical fog here). It reminds me of the one sailor's cry that awoke the captain. And even with that, she's still waiting for more word of him and should have had it by this point. But he's simply gone.

It's not endless horrors for Mina at the moment, but the ominous tone is certainly building over time despite more positive moments happening too. To use a weather metaphor, more and more stormclouds have been gathering over time, looming threateningly overhead. And it looks an awful lot like the weather Dracula brought to the Demeter.

[bakugoushotwife]

Bad Liar // katsuki bakugou

a/n: i got soooo carried away with this one lmfao no regrets though, i love bakubaby so bad and this is so self-ship coded no apologies :D this is probably my last piece before kinktober! i know i know boo hiss im sorry, im sorry, i'll probably still pepper in drabbles and headcanons just because :0

cw: suggestive, 16+ to read. bakugo is agressive as always, he has his own language lmao, possessiveness? friends to lovers, hiding it from the bakusquad!

wc: 2.9k

He can’t stand it. It was his stupid idea in the first place, but still, he finds himself knee deep in regret instead of ocean-water. And his friends make everything worse. Oh his stupid, stupid friends and their stupid gatherings and hang out sessions, just irritating him beyond belief. You weren’t included in this tirade, no. Never. You’ve never had a stupid idea in your life, other than agreeing to be his woman, he thinks now. 

Denki and Mina would want to go to the beach. That’s so perfectly, stupidly, them. It’s the hottest day of the year, and Katsuki is miserable in so many ways it’s almost comical. Certainly he would laugh if it was happening to anyone but him. He’s already prone to hyperhidrosis due to his quirk nature, and the weather certainly wasn’t helping the matter. He looks like he’s been greased in baby oil or something slimy straight out of the sea. You on the other hand, look—he can’t look. You’ve been friends since your first year at UA, or as close to friends as one really can get with the explosive blond. You seemed not to mind his bristly nature, even when he got a little loud, you never flinched away from him or went out of your way to push his buttons like everyone else. 

You were different. You invited him to read your favorite books and mangas with you, you introduced him to new video games and even offered to train together, something that anyone outside of Izuku ran away from. You were unafraid, he realized. He knows he makes it hard. He’s hateful and unforgiving, loud and brash. None of those are good qualities, he’s well aware, but you made him feel like they were. You laughed at his rude comments, only shaking your head or rolling your eyes playfully to disagree. When he got loud, you got louder, a tactic his mom first employed and something he hadn’t realized worked on him so well. No, you made those qualities feel endearing. It wasn’t long before he was inviting you to tag along with him too, teaching you how to make different dishes and even trying your hand at baking while he’s crouched over recipe books spouting the ingredients at you. He wants you to study with him, even if he hasn’t allowed anyone from the inner circle to join him willingly. He always invites you, and he never hides his casual requests for you to come back to his dorm for movies or the newest episode of your favorite anime. He’s completely smitten, clearly. 

To everyone, really. It was obvious, even to you. Katsuki is nothing if not prideful, so you were certainly not going to burst his bubble, or allow any of the bakusquad to do so either. You knew he would work through his emotions and thoughts on his own, and he would come to you when he’s ready. 

And yes, that took well into your adulthood. School was filled with tragedy after tragedy, you were happy to make it out of there with Katsuki, your friends, and your ability to become a hero still intact. The two of you worked for the same agency for the next couple of years straight out of high school, and that’s what helped him really understand just how different you are. You’re strong, the strongest woman he’s ever seen if he’s honest. Your abilities are insane, your motivation is inspiring, and your knowledge and instinct are only paralleled by his own. Perfect. You’re smart, beautiful, powerful, and so unique. He couldn’t stand it anymore, just watching from the sidelines as he tried to figure out why he was so enamored with you. 

Turns out, jealousy is one hell of a motivator. 

One day, when he was assigned a different route on patrol and you were sent off with a new male partner, it all made sense. He watched the guy put a hand on the small of your back, dangerously close to the elastic-wrapped mounds of your ass. His ass. He was fuming. The sidekick gave you an excited smile, championing himself lucky to be partnered with such a force–and beauty– as yourself. Katsuki saw it immediately, how the other sidekick was looking at you, it was painfully clear. He wasn’t worried, you would never give this extra your attention–hence how you throw the rando’s arm off of you and stomp away–what does piss him off though, is that other men cannot understand that you might as well walk around with his brand across your forehead. Was he not crystal clear? Even if he hadn’t known that you were unspeakably his, surely everyone else could tell? You two went everywhere together, never was one seen without the other, except for this fuckin’ dumbass  patrol–and he was scary enough no one should even think about you in that way. 

So he finishes his rounds as early as possible that day, making it back to HQ to meet up with you after your disdainfully different route. He’s pleased to see you alone, leaning up against a doorframe with your skin-tight hero suit still perfectly intact and clinging to your every curve. No drama, no danger, he smirks to himself in relief. The way you look back at him, though, that has his heart stopping in his chest. You look so at ease, your resting bitch face melting into a smile of succor. He can tell you’re just as relieved to see him, the way you jump from foot to foot in excitement tells him so. He can’t help but give you an arrogant half-smile, amused by and admiring your every move. The air is different, the space between the two of you spoke of something different than just friends. He throws his arm around your waist, and you can tell from the look on his face that he’s ready. His red siren gaze sparkles with a bit more intensity, his calloused fingers soothing circles into the curve of your side, even the smile playing at his lips says it all. You’re his now. He knows you know this, and you’re so good to him you won’t even make him say it, but it seemed that his little revelation was enough to change him in a way you didn’t suspect. 

“Yer my lady now.” He says, no trace of annoyance, only a slight upturn to the corners of his lips. 

“I know. Been your lady for a long ass time.” You chuckle, leaning your head over on his shoulder as you begin the walk home. You couldn’t wait to tell Mina–she would freak the fuck out that he finally made his move. Even more relieved would be poor Kirishima, the man on the receiving end of so many you-themed rants. Denki’s teasing may be endless–and Sero may be the only soul genuinely happy for everyone without making it a big deal. You know the last thing Katsuki wants is to make this a big deal. He was still working his way into emotional fluency, and you didn’t want them to stunt his progress–even though it was well intentioned. 

It’s like he can read your mind, or more aptly the subtle knit of your brows and purse of your lips. He knows your brain is hard at work thinking, so he steers you home, his house of course. The weather was decent, cold like he likes. He lets you think, focusing on the sound of your boots crunching in the snow. “What’s going on in that fat head’a yours?” 

You chuckle. “I was just thinking about how insufferable our friends are gonna be.” You say, icy fingers reaching for the solace you know awaits in his warm hands. He doesn’t fight you, cupping your hands in one of his. He furrows his brows, considering your sentence, yet his thumb still absentmindedly strokes your soft skin. He huffs after a time. 

“We ain’t gotta tell ‘em. They’ll figure it out eventually anyway–let’s just enjoy bein’ us. Press’ll be stupid too.” He sighs out, not having considered the issues you two may face now, status and all. How annoying. He squeezes on your hands to convey his love. 

You sigh. “God, so true. I didn’t think of that either.” You muse, smiling at the snowflakes collecting in Katsuki’s ashy hair and lashes while he stares at you. It can only ever be described as a stare, the intensity too much to be considered anything less. You slip your hands from his momentarily, and he frowns at the loss of you. He looks up and realizes you’re unlocking his door and sighing at the warmth that greets the two of you upon entering. Once the door swings shut, your hands find him again, though now you face him, and you dare to let your touch wander up his forearms and biceps before falling back down and reaching back up again. He enjoys the feeling, the soothing comfort of your strokes nearly causing him to sigh. He just hangs his arms around your waist instead, appreciating your beauty without fear now. 

“S’ppose we’ll keep this ‘er lil secret then.” He drawls, gently pulling your body until it stops against his. You can feel his warm caramel-scented breath waft over your face, the heat in his eyes causing your own to rush to your cheeks. He smirks at that, cherishing every moment he can fluster you since it’s so typically the other way around. 

You nod, unashamedly looking down at his lips. He doesn’t hide the sultry way in which he coats them, before letting them stretch into another, wider, predatory smirk. He forces your eyes back up to his with his two fingers under your chin. 

“Sound good?” He asks with an arched brow. You nod again. He chuckles, one so deep it reverberates through his buff chest. He’s entertained,  you’re absolutely falling apart just from standing so close to him now that all his feelings for you were confirmed. “Use your words and I’ll give ya a kiss.” 

You force yourself to swallow, and then clear your throat, feeling frozen in place. He looks at you like you were the only person he could see. He looks at you with such insatiable desire, you’re rendered speechless just from a few touches and his carmine eyes dancing over your body. “Yeah–our secret.” You manage. 

He nods his approval, sliding his hand to cup your cheek instead. His hand is so big his fingers reach over your jaw and into your soft, vanilla scented hair. He almost loses his confidence, your scent and the way you bat your eyelashes hitting him all at once. You always smell so sweet, even though you were actually spicy. He thought it fit you. You stand on your tiptoes to prompt him, your hands landing on his toned pecs. It brings him back to the present, and his heart actually flutters at what he was about to do. He swallows any nervousness and leans down, licking his lips a final time before he slots them over yours. You jolt him awake, the cool touch of your mouth sends warmth tingling through him, and you’re not doing much better. You feel like you’re melting as he pulls you closer desperately, unable to get enough of you. 

And maybe, just maybe, that night ended with him becoming very acquainted with that beautiful body you proudly display today, at the beach, with all his friends, who still don’t know that you’re together. 

That’s why he’s so impossibly frustrated, keeping his head turned and pretending to be entranced by the ocean waves. His friends are stupid, but they aren’t dumb. They’ve known for the longest that Katsuki’s head over heels for you, but upon your promise, they tried to give him less shit about it. 

But Denki just can’t hold back this time. To think that he can’t see Katuski’s “sunburn”, the noticeable way he’ll look anywhere but you, and his overly sensitive nerves today is an insult to Chargebolt. He scoffs loudly. 

“Hey Bakugou, you allergic to sexy?” 

The blond’s head snaps to him and his eyes narrow in confusion. “What?!”

Denki chuckles smoothly. “You won’t even look at Y/N–and she is definitely sexy. That bikini is working overtime–”

“Say one more word about her.” He dares, sparks collecting in the palms of his hands. At the crackling sound, Kirishima decides it’s time to intervene. He holds his arms out like someone approaching a wild horse to saddle. 

“Woah, woah–easy bro!” He chuckles nervously, but it gets Katsuki’s attention, at least enough that the threat of violence dies down. “I think what Denki’s trying to say is, normally you and Y/N are side-by-side. Is everything alright?” 

Great. There was no way to win. If he looked at you, he’d surely pop a raging boner and that would confirm everything they’ve ever thought about him and his thoughts about you, but not looking at you resulted in their suspicion anyway. He huffs through his nose and scowls. 

“Yeah? Just tryin’ not to be a perv like you two fuckers. Stop lookin’ at her–” 

“Right. Okay.” Sero rolls his eyes at the longtime friend. “You know none of us give a fuck if you guys want to get together, right? In fact, we’re literally praying for it so you stop being so goddamn intolerable.” 

“So you admit you have to fight looking?” Denki snickers. Katsuki eyes the two with the wrath of hell.

Kirishima gives him a defusing glare, sighing at his hot-tempered buddy. “I second Sero, but either way, we want you to have some fun, man. We know you can’t be having a good time sitting in the sand like this. Come play some volleyball with us!” He insists, dragging Katsuki to his feet. 

Bakugo wrenches his way free of him, but follows nonetheless, scowling even deeper when Mina calls out, “Three on three! I want Bakugou and Denki!” She giggles, leaving you to team up across from him with Kirishima and Sero. He convinces himself that beating your ass in volleyball should keep your friends off your scent.

All goes well, for a while. That is until the rotation puts him directly across from you. 

Denki was right. You are so sexy. And that bikini…how could you set him up like this? The fabric clings to your hips, disappearing into the folds of your dimpled and sand-covered ass. God, he shoulda never let you out of the house. His eyes finally move up toward your bust, almost laughably stuffed into your top. It’s so unfair. You’re ridiculously stunning, and he can’t help but think you did this on purpose. He can feel his blood rushing all at once, and he knows he must be staring hard. Before he can comprehend anything else, you’re running towards the net, beautiful body glistening in the sun, your sea-textured hair swaying in time with your chest as you jump and smack the ball right in his face. 

Kirishima can’t stifle his laugh, and Denki nearly collapses in laughter beside the explosive man. Mina just puts her hands on her hips, trying to hide her knowing smirk. 

Katsuki is prideful, arrogant, brash, unforgiving, loud, and hateful. You made sure to love and accept those qualities to an extent, and help him grow out of them in some others. One thing you’ll never be able to change is his competitive spirit–and you just took a cheap shot in his rulebook. 

“That was a low blow. It doesn’t count!” He groans, swiping some of the kicked up sand from his tanned abs. He goes to pick up the ball when Sero challenges. 

“How so? She just spiked it. That’s legal.” 

And to his dismay, you play right into it. “Yeah, why’s it a low blow, Suki?”

Goddamn you. Batting your lashes and all. You’re challenging him too, daring him to keep lying or to come clean to all his friends. He snorts at you, clearly you underestimate who you’re dealing with. He’ll fuck you on the beach if you wanna push buttons–but he decides he’ll take a more moderate approach only because he doesn’t want anyone else to see you naked. You can’t back him into a corner without doing the same to yourself, so he just juts his chin at you. 

“Because you wore that bikini just to piss me off ‘n make me tell our friends yer mine.” He growls, arching a brow and folding his arms over his chest. The friends in question are unusually quiet and deathly still, exchanging knowing and relieved looks.

You shrug, blushing a bit. He caught you, but it worked anyway. Only because he allowed it, but still. You hum your acknowledgement and motion for the ball back. 

“You got me, baby. That counts as a point though. Ball’s mine.” You wink, that smug grin of yours enough to make his heart pound like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you. You’re most definitely somethin’ else, but he loves you to pieces, and he feels a lot better about being able to be just as pervy out loud as he wants to be. 

He slings the ball back over the net, mirroring your smirk. Once again, he’ll never let you best him. His eyes shine with mischief as he winks and says for your embarrassment, “Oh yer still goin’ down, sugartits.” 

[two-white-butterflies]

drug (two) | toto wolff

Description: He meets his girlfriend's parents, and they don't like him. (age gap.)

Pairing: toto wolff/horner!reader

part one

"We're trending, and not for a good reason." you chuckled nervously, browsing through the thick of social media. Darn Twitter's post viewing limits, there were at least a million posts mentioning you. "Bad publicity is still publicity," Toto responded - closing his eyes in his inability to fight against rest.

"Hm, will you tell my father's publicist that?" you teased him and all color drained out of his face. He reached for his reading glasses on the bedside table, eyes slightly narrowing against the sharp light. "What is it about?" he groaned in an attempt to have a clear view of your phone. "-ever heard of dark mode?" he humored, slightly freezing when he sees the article's title.

"They make it seem like we're a divorced couple," he joked again, but it was clear that he was panicking. He hoped that nothing would come out of Christian. He prayed that his rival would learn to accept the change sooner than the media could get a wind of it - but nay, Toto was always a dreamer anyways. "Well, aren't you?" you giggled.

"I'll have this wiped off the face of earth," he mumbled to himself, reaching for his laptop hidden under the bed. "Gods I hate it when sports magazines push out this non-sports crap," you rolled your eyes - contemplating on whether or not you should message Christian. He was the only person that could fix this.

A sigh escapes your mouth. He wouldn't understand.

"How did you get rid of that article anyways?" George couldn't help but ask while taking the cooler out of the trunk. "I had to convince a close friend to buy the company," Toto sighed.

"I can't believe that we're living in a reality where Wolff-Horner babies are possible." Lewis chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. Gods, there were a million ways that this one could go wrong. "You're thinking way too far into the future," you chuckled - helping George carry the ice creams inside the house.

Christian half-expected his daughter to show up around Toto Wolff's arms, but he was more surprised to see the man show up alone. "Nice seeing you again," Geri smiled, welcoming the Austrian with arms open wide. "I wanted to bring Y/N but she feels under the weather." Toto reasoned for his daughter, but he already knew that it was some half-baked attempt to evade this dinner.

"Rainy seasons always make her sick." Geri sympathized. Christian shook his head in disbelief. No amount of clarity would ever make his wife believe that you were anything less of an angel. "I'm sorry for being late," the man apologized, sitting on the chair parallel them.

A waitress comes towards them with a menu, but Toto ignores the sheet of paper. "I'm not really here to have dinner. I wanted to inform you of something," he started with a tone that told Christian that he wasn't going to like where the conversation was going. "What is it?" he couldn't help but ask - taking a sip of his lemon water.

"She asked me to marry her." Toto began with a sad smile. "No, no fucking way." Christian shook his head. If this was Toto's way of inviting them to the wedding then the wedding wasn't fucking happening. "And I redirected her." he added and Geri let out a sigh of relief. You were too young for marriage.

"Because I knew that you didn't approve the both of us." he breathed, looking to the far horizon. Toto was a traditional man. He dreamt of a house in Beverly Hills or Bel Air - beside some hot shot producer - inside a house that seemed like a cleaning nightmare. He wanted a small family, a white picket fence with fun neighbors.

He'd be willing to let that go - all for you.

All for your family that didn't love him in return.

"Is this your way of trying to convince us? Y/N's had her turn of older billionaires in the past - they're all the same. I'm not letting her make the same mistakes again," he responded with courage.

Toto stood up - fiddling with his Patek Philippe watch.

"I want you to think about it, Christian. I really love your daughter."

@oceandeepthirst2 @h-c-u @perihelioneclipse @fallwinterr @ohkapten @crimeshowjunkie @ironcowboycopnickel @clusidino-27 @luckyladycreator2 @upsteadsstuff @omgsuperstarg @champomiel @wavesnotfeelings @soph1644

[python333]

déjà vu — python333

— — — —

synopsis you and ghost are more similar than the two of you realized.

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 2.88k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [call sign/code name], ghost's backstory [yes that is a warning within itself], kind of badly written.

note holy shitttttt i'm so sorry i haven't posted in two months. to everyone who is disappointed this isn't a req they submitted—i am very sorry but i have like. no motivation. please take this small fic as a peace offering after being silent for two months. also yes i said alej fic but i only had motivation to write for ghost LMAO

“So…” Ghost can hear Price next to him, creating an echo as he speaks through his earpiece, “Doesn’t it get hot, always wearing that mask?” 

“Not when it’s made of the right materials,” Your voice crackles through, the wind blowing by slightly distorting your voice, “It’s also winter, captain, so no, it doesn’t get hot.” 

The corners of Ghost’s lips twitch upwards when you answer, but he otherwise doesn’t say or do anything, simply leaning against the wall parallel to Price. For you, maybe your mask doesn’t get hot, but his certainly does—though, he doesn’t voice that, simply listening. 

“Oh really?” Price hums, looking around the corner of the wall he’s leaned up against, spotting a few enemy soldiers walking by without a clue of who they’re in the presence of, “What’s yours made of, then?” 

“Polyester,” You answer. 

From what Ghost understands, you wear a mask for the same reason as him—anonymity. As much as he can respect that and understand the want to remain anonymous, he can’t help but wonder why you would want that. Is it for reasons similar to why he wears his? Have you gone through things similar to what he’s gone through? Did a fellow SAS soldier also murder your entire family and attempt to pin it on you, to which you responded by killing him, stealing his dog tags, and burning your own house down? He had many questions, but didn’t ask any. 

He doesn’t think you’d answer them, anyway. He certainly wouldn’t. He’d maybe try to divert the conversation with a bad dad joke, or simply not dignify the question with a response, anything but an actual answer. He strangely expects the same of you. 

He vaguely remembers a conversation he had with Price when you first joined maybe two months ago, specifically a comment Price had made about your file; “I had the same conversation with Laswell about their file that I did when I first got yours. She said the same thing when she saw their file, too, word for word.”

It turned out that they had the exact same exchange that they did when they saw Ghost’s file, verbatim. Laswell had pointed out that you had no picture, and Price said, “Never.” Ever since then, Ghost has felt an inexplicable connection to you, despite not having talked to you that much. 

He’ll admit, he tried to initiate a conversation with you more often than he did with the others when he first met them. Maybe one or two times a day, he’d find you and make small talk, something that made his skin crawl with discomfort but something he still forced himself to do, just to try and make sense of the invisible line that seemed to tie you both together. 

This small talk started off as anything from a question about the weather—yes, Ghost asked about the weather, unfortunately for the both of you considering how awkward and stilted that short conversation was—to asking about training and skills. He didn’t normally initiate conversations with anyone else, he was typically the one that was walked up to and barely even had to carry any conversations he was in. 

Every conversation the two of you had always ended the same way, though; with you cutting it short the moment it got anywhere near your personal life, or even just your life outside of being a part of the 141, and walking off elsewhere. Ghost could see the tiniest bit of himself in you everytime you did that, and an annoying voice in the back of his mind always asked, Was I always that much of a hardass? … Am I that much of a hardass?

“Ghost,” Price’s voice snaps Ghost out of his train of thought and he grunts, looking over at Price. The man in question nods his head towards the now clear path to the building they needed to get into, and Ghost nodded back, taking his SMG out of the sling and moving out of the small alleyway they’d camped in, following after Price. 

They quickly rush over to the building, the doors thankfully unlocked and the soldiers guarding it stupid enough to not be right beside the front doors, and lock the doors behind them once they’re in. 

“Are you guys in?” You ask, the wind no longer distorting your voice, the background of your audio now relatively silent except for your faint breathing. 

“Yeah,” Price replies, the darkness of the building making him squint as he scans the walls for some sort of light switch, “Anyone notice we got in?”

“Not that I can see, no,” You answer, your sigh audible through the comms, “They’re pretty far from the building, actually.” 

“Perfect,” Price hums, patting his hand along the wall for a moment before finding a large lever. He hesitates to pull it, and ultimately decides against it, deeming it too risky. Instead, he searches his tactical vest and goes through a few large pockets that sit around his lower midriff before finding a relatively small flashlight. 

He presses the button on the end of the handle with a small click, and the flashlight flickers for a moment before the light becomes consistent and a small buzz begins to sound. Price looks around for a second, scanning the area for any immediate threats, and motions for Ghost to follow him. 

“See anything?” You ask curiously, some rustling heard on your end. Ghost looks around for a second, footsteps echoing eerily through the building. 

“Nothing important,” He replies, voice quiet, “Just dust and old furniture.” 

“His office is just down there,” Price interjects, nodding towards the hall to their left, making Ghost look in that same direction, “I’ll head down there, you stay here, let me know if anyone’s coming.” 

The echo from Price talking to Ghost both through comms and being right beside him, as well as the echo from being in such a large room, starts to irritate Ghost. He rolls his shoulders and puts his gun back in the sling, looking back at Price.

“Turn off your comms,” His suggestion sounds more like a command, but he’s sure Price understands it’s more of a request than anything else, “You’re echoing. If anything happens, I can just talk to you without them.” 

Price pauses before nodding, and pressing the small button on his earpiece to turn off his mic, and the piece entirely. He trusts Ghost wholeheartedly, and it shows. He takes one last look around before walking towards the office he pointed out. 

The office belonged to the man who had stolen vital intel from the 141—not intelligence on the task force itself, but rather a separate team that had recently allied themselves with the task force. They couldn’t risk that data being taken, as it would not only expose the other team, but several other similar teams and task forces. 

Ghost waits until Price is actually in the hall before speaking again, “You still there, [c/n]?” 

“Yeah,” You answer almost immediately, “Need something?” 

“No,” Ghost hums, leaning against the wall behind him, “Just wanted to talk.” 

“Please don’t ask me about the weather again,” You sigh, almost exasperated, “Or about how my training is going, or about how my CO is, or—” 

“I’m not,” Ghost interrupts you, not sure whether to laugh or cry at your examples of past conversations. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” He says, before asking, “How long were you apart of the army, before joining here?” 

“Before the 141?” You pause, thinking for a moment, “Sounds kind of personal.” 

“You don’t have to answer,” Ghost offers, voice almost reassuring, “Just curious.” 

“Aren’t you always,” You mutter, a comment Ghost promptly ignores, before you properly answer, “Just a year. Maybe a year and a half.” 

“American army, right?”

“Mhm,” You hum, “Would you believe me if I said we sang Yankee Doodle before going on any missions?”

“Oh, sure I would,” Ghost chuckles, before countering, “Would you believe me if I said that song was made to mock Americans?” 

“I’m not sure if I should be offended that you believe that,” You say, a lighter lilt to your voice as you do compared to a few moments ago, “But yes, I believe you. I think that almost every American has reclaimed it as one of the most patriotic songs, though.” 

“Almost every American?” Ghost questions, growing more amused as the conversation goes on. It confuses him, making him wonder why he’s so easily drawn into conversations with you, no matter how small or dry. 

“I’m sure there’s some here and there that don’t like it,” You elaborate, “But I haven’t met any. Not yet.” 

“Alright,” Ghost nods even though you can’t see him, before asking another question, “What branch?” 

“The Navy,” You answer, now without questioning Ghost which brings him a strange sense of relief, “I flew planes around and stuff. Didn’t really like it, though.” 

“Oh yeah?” Ghost sounds more interested now, “Why not?” 

“The soldiers there aren’t the best people to be around,” You hum, the sounds of you moving audible, “One mention of any sort of mental issues, even if it’s just something like feeling anxious or being sleep deprived, and suddenly everyone’s on your ass pressuring you to be better or just… being weird about it. It gets draining after a while.” 

“I bet,” Ghost murmurs, “Is that why you left?” 

“Partially,” You answer honestly, “Half of it was that, the other half was that I just didn’t like flying planes. I was also eighteen and couldn’t really control my impulsive thoughts, so a majority of the time I was fighting myself trying not to crash the plane on purpose.” 

“Makes sense,” Ghost considers what you said for a moment, before his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he asks, “Isn’t the enlistment age for the Navy nineteen?” 

“It is,” You assure him, “I was an exception, ‘cause I was a month or two away from turning nineteen.” 

“Hm,” Ghost hums, “And you’re twenty now?” 

“Twenty, almost twenty-one,” You confirm. 

“Did you wear the mask back then?” Ghost asks, praying that the question isn’t too personal to the point where you stop responding. He’s been dying to ask the question, always worrying whether or not it was too personal—it was pretty personal, to be fair, but he wasn’t used to worrying this much over another soldier, much less one he only met two months ago. Sure, you both wore a mask and remained somewhat anonymous, but that didn’t mean you two were automatically best friends who braided each other’s hair. 

“...” You don’t respond for a moment, making Ghost’s worry increase, before you reply, “No.”

Your simple answer makes Ghost more curious, and he can’t tell if he should ask why or not. He stays silent for a few seconds, weighing his options, before he ultimately says, “Alright.” 

He tries to leave it up to you whether or not you want to tell him about your own story, of if you’re comfortable with that, which you probably aren’t, considering that—again—the two of you only met a couple months ago.

“Did you wear the mask?” You ask quietly a moment later, catching Ghost off-guard, “Before this?” 

“Before the 141?” He echoes your question from earlier, nodding to himself, “Yeah. For some time before this, I had a different mask, but it was still a mask.” 

“Was the skull always there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“… For just aesthetic purposes, or?” Ghost feels the corners of his lips tug up in amusement at your question, and at how genuinely curious you sound. 

“Eh. Not really,” He answers, taking a deep breath in and out through his nose. He doesn’t say any more than that, not being able to as his mind takes him back to a time a while ago, when he was being held hostage and was in the same room as some kids who heard him spill his entire background to the men holding him hostage. 

He remembers one kid in particular, a little girl with blonde hair, who had listened to every detail that he’d said. When he was telling the story of why he has the call sign Ghost, in hopes of distracting the men so that the 141 could rescue him and the kids, she had clung to every detail and later asked him if what he had said was true, her tone of voice eerily similar to yours. 

He remembers when he was carrying her out of that room, the questions she’d bombarded him with, and how he answered every one with as neutral of an answer he could muster. He debates doing that now with any questions you ask, but decides against it almost instantly—something that shocks him, even though it was his own thought—considering that he wanted to ask you those same questions. Not about your call sign, only about the mask. 

“It’s a long story,” He says after you’ve been silent for a while, your curiosity somehow palpable even through just the comms, “But it has to do with some family members.” 

“Yeah?” You hum, “I know a thing or two about that.” 

“Do you?” Ghost asks, slightly ashamed at the small jolt of excitement he feels at the opportunity of hearing more about you. 

“Mhm,” You pause, staying quiet for a moment, before continuing, “About family members. Dead ones.” 

“Ah,” Ghost nods, the discomfort he originally felt sharing some of his own story starting to melt away, “Dead ones. I understand.” 

“Can’t tell if I should be glad or not,” You snort, “Like, I’m glad you understand, but also sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ghost grins under his mask, “I was wondering the same thing.” 

“So… dead ones,” You think out loud, before asking, “That’s why you have that call sign and mask?” 

“Yeah,” Ghost looks around for a moment, reminding himself to keep watch while talking to you, before cautiously asking, “Are yours the reason for your mask?” 

“Not really,” You answer honestly, with a little less resistance behind your answer to Ghost’s relief, “Well… I mean, kind of. But they’re not the reason-reason. I didn’t really like them, so I’m not gonna give them all the credit, but I’ll give them… maybe twenty-five percent of it.” 

“A quarter’s still a lot,” Ghost points out, “What’d they do to earn that?” 

“They died, and…” You’re doing more pausing and hesitating now, making Ghost wonder if he’s going to personal every second that you stay quiet, before you finally answer in a more guarded tone, “I almost got blamed for it. Almost.” 

Ghost gets hit with a pang of mixed emotions, like a weird sort of uncomfortable nostalgia. They almost got blamed for it. He lets out a breath that’s slightly shaky, and thinks for a moment before saying, “Almost?” 

“Almost,” You confirm, tone a little less guarded, presumably at Ghost’s more calm reaction, “Then I handled it the best I could, and the guy who killed them got what he deserved.” 

“Which was?” Ghost feels more of that uncomfortable nostalgia bubble up, giving him an uneasy feeling in his gut, as if he knows where this conversation is going. 

“Death,” You answer softly, “And the nameplate on his uniform stolen, which I replaced with mine. I would’ve taken his dog tags, but we didn’t really wear them on missions ‘cause our drill sergeant didn’t care too much.” 

Ghost can put a name to the feeling now. Déjà vu. He takes a deep breath and considers your words for a moment. 

“And the body?” His lips move before he can think. 

“Burnt.” You answer simply, “The whole house. It was mainly drywall, so it took a moment to actually completely catch on fire, but it was quick enough. It also smelled disgusting.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Ghost swallows, vividly remembering the smell of his own house, before continuing, “He was a soldier for the Navy, too?” 

“Mhm. He was… a Private, I think,” You reply, “I wasn’t too close with him. I wasn’t with anyone.” 

“And so the reason you wear the mask is…?” 

“I didn’t really exist anymore after that,” You hum, “At least, not to them. I was dead in a burned down house, my own house, and was far gone. I like wearing the mask; it keeps me as just another soldier, not as the person who died in that house.” 

“But you didn’t,” Ghost points out, trying to ignore the eerie feeling that only grows stronger the more you talk, “You’re here.” 

“… Yeah, I am,” You say after a moment of thinking, smile evident in your voice, “Doesn’t mean I can take that back, though. ‘s not the best feeling, doing something like that.” 

“Trust me, I know,” Ghost chuckles, “If anyone here, I’d be the person to know, kid.” 

“Really?” You ask, voice more curious like it was before, “Why’s that?” 

“I’ve… weirdly been through almost everything you said,” Ghost admits, “Word for word with the house burning down, actually.” 

“… Huh,” You huff out a small laugh before saying, “I’m wondering if I should feel happy or sad again.” 

“Me too, again,” Ghost smiles, eyes flickering up at Price’s footsteps sound through the hallway, his silhouette slowly coming into view, “One last question.” 

“Shoot.” 

“How’s the weather?” 

“I’m not answering that, fuck you.”

[ripplestitchskein]

Now that we’re almost done I’ve kind of solidified some of my season 3 theories based on the story beats they’ve hit so far and what was setup from what I think of as the point where they really thought about the plot and started laying things out.

One thing I think will come from Blitzo’s new fame is that people from his past, like Cash and Barbie are going to come out of the woodwork seeking money predominately.

Definitely think Season 3 is going to include a lot of substance abuse issues and potentially someone from Blitzo’s family as the antagonist, probably Cash with Barbie and Stolas probably paralleling each other in Blitzo’s life. In order to help Stolas he needs to learn from where he went wrong with Barbie and reconcile with her while trying to get Stolas help with his own issues.

Stolas of course will be dealing with living life as a normal guy and the situation with Octavia. He is going to spiral, hard and it may end things with him and Blitz temporarily or they may weather it but I expect it to be messssy.

I expect Andrelphus to maybe be done next episode but Stella will still potentially be a threat, although I change my mind on this. They haven’t really set Stella up as a credible threat on her own, she’s too stupid and not in a she could be faking it way?

Andrelphus could get more powerful and be an overarching big bad fighting on the front lines of the class war for the ruling class or he could slink under ground to pop up like Striker does.

Vassago, since he’s very much in entertainment based on design and abilities and enthusiasm for Stolas singing. I actually see as handling PR for both Stolas and Blitz? Stolas needs an image overhaul and Blitz is going to crumble under the pressure of this much fame, guaranteed. I could also see him maybe investigating and trying to help from a legal standpoint.

I feel like they have to do something with Ozzie and Fizz, the characters are too popular to not have at least one feature episode. I was disappointed by the lack of Mammon and Ozzie follow up, I feel like they setup something in the musical special we still need paid off and don’t have time for this season but haven’t had any momentum on and the trial was a great opportunity to fit that in if they were pursuing it so we’ll see on that.

I think Moxxie will have a bigger role. t seems like this season was more Millie focused but Mastermind really focused on Moxxie and it seemed almost like they are passing the narrative baton there,

Loona I think will be the bridge that holds Octavia/Stolas/Blitz together. Her outreach and relationship to Octavia was established for a reason in Seeing Stars and now she’s the only non hostile link between them. It will also touch in her issues with accepting family, bringing one together, helping to build it.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

The albatross x dancing with our hands tied

Aaaaaah this is another wonderful thematic parallel!

First of all: Girl and Her Guitar Doing A Bit At A Coffee House. I LOVE THE WAY SHE SOUNDS IN THIS. She's adding a little country twang/bluesy drawl to The Albatross and I am liiiiiiiiiiiiiiving! I enjoy The Albatross on the album, but I absolutely love it performed this way. Her little strummy strums make me so happy, especially as she builds to them at the end of the song.

The theme is: I'd kiss you as the lights went out, swaying as the room burned down, I'd hold you as the water rushes in, and when that sky rains fire on you and you're persona non grata, I'll tell you how I've been there too and that none of it matters.

This is suuuuuuuuuuch a good story, and I've come to realize over the last few months that Dancing With Our Hands Tied kind of plays into so many of the songs on TTPD, but that is a whole other discussion.

When you think about it, both songs kind of tell the same story: falling in love amidst chaos, and the pressures from the outside world trying to throw a wrench in it.

In The Albatross, the outside forces warn the lover to stay away from her, but at first he stands firm and shoots them down, e.g. ignores/fights back against the people telling him this is a bad idea-- which is echoed in Dancing With Our Hands Tied and People started talking, putting us through our paces / You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it, i.e. outsiders tried to put down what they had, but he stood up to them because they couldn't stop the way he felt for her.

In both songs, she wants to protect her lover from the oncoming storm. Whether it's spreading her wings like a parachute or holding him as the water rushes in, she wants to keep them close as the world closes around them, because that is their salvation. And it's really interesting to go from DWOHT where she's riddled with anxiety about what will happen to them, but dancing through it anyway because it was worth the fight, to The Albatross where she knows they're surrounded on all fronts, but she knows how to weather the storm if he'll let her guide them.

I also like the connection between I knew there was no one in the world who could take it / I had a bad feeling and I'm the life you chose and all this terrible danger. Just the idea of fearing that this person couldn't take the heat, to knowing that they chose this life with you, knowing full well what it would entail.

An interesting lyric parallel I just noticed between the two songs: And darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis // You were sleeping soundly when they dragged you from your bed and I tried to warn you about them

This was a great trip down memory lane, anon! Loved this one.

[canadiancryptid]

How does the Train decide where passengers start their journeys?

Whenever I start thinking about Infinity Train again, I always find it interesting how the Train seems to have rules about what can exist within a car and how passengers interact with it.

One of these rules is how it decides where to drop off passengers to start their journeys. We've seen 5 passengers after they got dropped off by their pods, and all of them are in a car that's somewhat similar to where they were when they got abducted picked up, and that's at least relatively peaceful in its normal state

Warning: this is gonna be a long one.

Looking at Book 1, Tulip doesn't even realize she's not where she was before until she finds the door. She just wakes up in a snowy landscape and assumes she passed out and dreamed the weird glowing train. Even the giant snowman doesn't seem too strange. The least 'normal' thing in her starting car is One-One, who got dumped there by Amelia and isn't meant to be part of the car. It's quiet, uninhabited, and while certainly cold, she was dressed for colder weather. Sure, the Train picked her up in a forest area, but while the Snow Car may not have as many trees, it has some, and they even seem to be the same type. It's a close enough match that she doesn't even realize she's somewhere else.

Next up we have Jesse. We only see his arrival in a flashback, but we can put the pieces together. We see from his video of the incident with Nate that he was in some sort of grassy, vaguely hilly area with a bunch of trees, and considering he said that he never got to talk to Nate again before the Train took him, he probably stayed in the area to think about what happened and how badly he screwed up. Even if he did head home at some point before the Train picked him up, it's clear he never made it back, and the area around his house still has a ton of massive, grassy hills with trees.

When he wakes up on the Train, he finds himself in the Hill Car.

We know from the Train Documentary about it that its a peaceful car, albeit inhabited by giant birds, and that some of the hills can talk. Comparing the car to where he was before, we see the same kind of hilly, grassy plains, just with seemingly no trees and bigger hills. And if there are giant birds, there's a decent chance there are trees somewhere. It's not a bad match, all things considered.

There's even a piece of crew art on Owen Dennis' Instagram that shows him sitting on a hill contemplating his actions, with the filing cabinet from the incident lying nearby. This art shows fewer trees nearby and bigger hills, making it look even MORE like the Hill Car. Crew Art may not always be a perfect reflection of canon events, but the small differences in the surrounding area only make the parallels even stronger.

Before we see the flashbacks of Jesse's arrival, we see Lake passing by Mrs. Graham getting her orientation video from her pod. We don't know much about her other than the fact she's a lunch lady at Jesse's school, and that she got picked up while still wearing her hairnet and apron. For as many questions as I may have about where she was and why she got picked up at all, there's not really anywhere on earth that looks like that.

At first glance, it might seem like this disproves the idea of any sort of algorithm that decides where passengers start based on where they were picked up, and while yes, it does throw a wrench into it, I wouldn't say it proves that there wasn't one at some point.

When Mrs. Gramm got picked up by the Train, it was well after One-One was back in charge after his period of unwilling absence. It's not hard to tell that his time experiencing a passenger's journey first-hand with Tulip has changed the way he runs things. He started leaving passengers in their pods until they wake up, keeping them safe instead of just dumping them out in the open, and giving them a little orientation video to explain where they are and how things work. While how much this actually helps them adjust to the fact they just got abducted and got stuck in the world's worst therapy program is… debatable, it's clear our little Conductor is trying to work on some pain points he saw with Tulip.

Doing the math, Jesse got there before Mrs. Gramm. He was already on the Train for a while before Lake found him, but she sees Mrs. Gramm just starting off not long before. They both got picked up after One-One started the orientation videos, and if he's only been back in the driver's seat for a few months now, he's likely still working on changing things. The Doily Car is unlike anything on earth, sure, but most importantly, its safe. It's peaceful, there don't seem to be any native denizens that could pose a threat, and it's just generally a decent place to wake up in. There's a good chance that One-One is trying to start prioritizing a safe starting car over a smooth transition.

Tulip's first car had the risk of freezing, even if she was dressed for the cold. Jesse's first car was pretty safe, but there was still the giant bird issue. Mrs. Graham's first car was perfectly safe. The biggest threat in there was Lake, and she was just passing through.

Even with the surreal landscape, the Doily Car actually sort of loosely fits where she may have been before. As previously mentioned, she's still in her work clothes. Doilies are typically used as decorations when serving desserts or other sweet foods. While they aren't the sort of thing you would see in a school cafeteria, they do share a theme of serving food. The attempt to match the context of where the Train picked her up with her starting car is still there, but could you imagine how crazy a cafeteria full of denizens could be? That would only serve to scare her more, if not put her in more danger.

If we look even further back, we find Ryan and Min-Gi. When they got on, the Train was working as it was seemingly intended to. Amelia hadn't taken over, One-One was still One, and yet, the two of them got dumped in a frozen wasteland. You might think this implies there wasn't an algorithm for this sort of thing before Amelia started whispering in One's ear and convincing him to make some changes, but this car is actually a decent match.

The problem is, this car has multiple states, and the ice age obviously isn't the one that fits best.

In the car's "normal" state, when the Erastat dial is set perfectly in the middle, the car reflects a relatively modern city. A little futuristic, perhaps a little alien, but still a 'normal' city. With how long it takes Lake to get to the Number Car, we know the pods can be travelling for a while, so when it sent them off, it probably WAS a modern city. Kez just came in and messed with the dial after the car was selected.

If the modern-day state of the car is what was used to decide where to drop them off, its not that far from where they were before. Its not a perfect match, but it could have been so much worse. The Train doesn't have a lot in the way of modern cities that don't have some big twist. A dial that changes the time era isn't really that wild.

Overall, it seems like the Train has some sort of system that uses where the Passengers are picked up to help decide where it should drop them off. Like most of its other systems, it doesn't do it amazingly, but there seems to be something going on behind the scenes.

The Train is such a fascinating machine to think about. Its one of the many reasons this show always seems to stay creeping about in the back of my mind.

[jackrabbit-fandom]

Hello, hello, hello

I have seen your post about Cyno being autistic and I agree since you can literally see it in the game.

Truly hope someone doesn't come after you with bad intentions because I might just have to thoroughly shut them down in a very ✨️friendly✨️ way.

Anyway, I noticed that you have also added that you'd be interested in writing HC for the two, so... May I request one of Alhaitham? I would be very grateful.

Have a lovely day

YOU DONT HAVE TO ACT AO FORMAL I KNOW YOU-

Anyway

For the most part, you know my al headcanons, but let's make some more hm? Hope you guys enjoy it!

No warnings, really just cute junk and alhaitham being alhaitham. Mabye a lil ooc. Plus spelling and grammar cause I suck at that

As i said before, I see alhaitham as autistic, so we'll be adding that a bit here

Alhaitham isn't super touchy. He can get a bit overwhelmed if he's touched too much. However, I do see him being a bit more willing with his partner, though PDA likely would be off the table.

Handholding would be fine for him if it makes you feel better, though not for very long, so I recommend pinky holding instead!

Look, it's cute as hell and isn't constantly squeezing his hand, so it works.

Or you could hold the back of his coat of even that is to much contact for him

Speaking of such things, alhaitham is likely someone who can hide when he's overstimulated VERY well, so you'll have to be able to read him very well to know when he's uncomfortable, as if he wouldn't just bluntly tell you to let go ether way.

A few tells would mainly be a slight change in his expression, from his more relaxed one to a more annoyed one, a twitch of his eyebrow or the corner of his mouth.

He'd get more fidgety, ether messing with his headphones, adjusting his clothes to much, ect.

In the game, we can see that he is a kind person, but also very blunt and doesn't feel any fear in telling people what he thinks. So don't get too upset if he so bluntly tells you your affection is a bit too much.

He may not be a very affectionate man but he still shows his affections in his own way, weather that be: allowing you to read his prized books, reading to you himself, letting you lean on him, teaching you bits of knowledge he has, ect. His affection more comes out in these simple actions.

He's fairly knowledgeable on quite a few topics, so if you ask him questions about them, he'd be happy to answer them even if his expressions seem more 'annoyed' then happy.

If he doesn't know an awnser, he'll tell you so, but be sure to research the topic later so he can answer said question.

This is how he shows his love lol.

His love language is more-so quality time/ parallel play in which you're each doing your own thing nearby

On a more general alhaitham note, he mainly gets overstimulated by too much or too loud noise, which he uses his headphones to cancel out.

He likely would know sign, for moments where he ether deafened his headphones or just decides not to speak. This just helps him keep himself from that overstimulation.

He also stims in more subtle was, fidgeting with a loose thread on his clothes, tapping his fingers together, messing with a loose strand of hair (his or yours depending on how close your relationship is and how long your hair is) or just tapping his foot.

He can handle confrontation easily on his own, so no need to worry when someone bothers him about his habits sense hell eeasily shut them down with no problem.

I see him as getting more frustrated if anyone attempts to talk over him or baby him. He is a grown man. Doing these things is more likely to annoy him than make him feel relieved.

This doesn't mean he hates you defending him completely. He'd just rather not be treated like a child or as if he can't speak for himself.

Alhaitham wouldn't be a bad partner. Honestly, he's attentive and very loyal. You'd just have to be able to handle his lack of touchyness and just overall blunt attitude.

That's all I've got for now, I'm writing this like 10 minutes before work, lol. Anyway, I hope you liked it! Might attempt a fic at some point with him being overstimulated and using my own experiences for that. Bye bye!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The DUFF 11

Warnings: groping, insecurity, food and body issues, manipulation, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥

Image credit (I want to give dues where due but don’t want the creator to keep getting tagged in my posts as I have been approached by some before that they don’t want me in their notifs)

You pull out a drawer from the counter, taking in the quaint kitchen space. A set of french doors look out onto another sprawl of wilderness, a wooden bench draped in vines, and a round table with carved chairs set around it. You slide it shut as you part to get a better glimpse of the dimming sky.

A spec of moisture lands on the top pane, then another, and another. The rain taps off the glass and blur your vision as you stare out. The clouds have finally broken and the sky darkens much earlier than usual.

You don’t hear Curtis until he’s almost right beside you. He rests his hand on the wooden trim around the glass and exhales. As he watches the downpour, it grows heavier and a roll of thunder shakes the house.

“I thought we’d beat the storm,” he says as he drags his other hand over his hair, “sorry, bun. Bad timing.”

“We’ll wait it out,” you assure him as you back away, hugging yourself as the rain sends a chill through the cracks. “I’m sure it won’t last long.”

He faces you and his lips curve slightly. He stares at you with a glint of admiration in his pale irises. He touches your cheek and leans in to kiss your forehead.

“So, what do you think? You like the place?”

“It’s nice,” you answer, “very nice. I can’t believe you can afford all this.”

“Ah, it’s not very expensive. Small compared to most,” he shrugs and shifts to stand parallel with you again. He slips his arm over your shoulders, “it’s nice to get out of the city. Away from the restaurant.”

“Restaurant?” You echo curiously.

“Work,” he says dully, “long nights, hot kitchen, not exactly relaxing.”

“Huh,” you tap your lip thoughtfully.

“What?” He asks as he nuzzles the side of your head.

“Makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, you’re a way better cook than I am,” you giggle, “I guess I should’ve asked sooner.”

“I haven’t exactly given you a chan–”

A clap of thunder booms and the sky lights up. Curtis quickly backs you away from the door as you let out a startled yelp. Holy! He curls his arm around you and pulls you in tight.

“You okay, bunny?”

“Yeah, yeah, just… that was loud,” you babble.

The rain pelts against the doors, rattling them as the sky turns almost black. You can’t believe how quickly the weather’s turned. You hope it passes quickly.

“Let’s stay away from the windows,” he girds as he leads you back through the kitchen, “I can get a fire going in the front room until it’s clear. There’s some puzzles too.”

“So,” you peer around, “you come here often?”

“Haven’t had the chance yet. I’ve just been fixing it up, moving in… summer isn’t here just yet.”

“Oh.”

“You’re the first person I’ve shown.”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t have anyone else to share it with,” he takes you to the couch and lets you go.

You sit and he draws the blanket from the back of the sofa and wraps it around you. You thank him with a smile and he strokes your cheek gently. He turns away and gets down to his knees before the fireplace. He works at stacking the wood as your eyes skitter around the room. For such a new place, it looks well lived-in.

🐰

You check the time on your phone. It’s almost ten and the storm is still blowing. You shake your head and put your cell face down beside the border of the puzzle. You take a piece but aren’t really paying attention to the patches of those already connected.

“Something the matter?” Curtis asks as the fire crackles and flickers in the warm space.

“Just thinking about work,” you rest your chin on your hand and try to push the piece into another, “gonna be a late ride back.”

“Uh, yeah,” he hums, “you know, bun, I don’t know if we’ll be able to get back tonight. I wouldn’t want to get in an accident. I’d hate for you to get hurt.”

“I can’t stay. I have to work at like eight.”

“I know, bunny, but… it’s too dangerous. The roads out here aren’t maintained and there’s no lights.”

You huff and sit back as you drop the puzzle piece. Shoot. He’s right. You’d feel horrible if something happened and all for what? Work? You just weren’t prepared to be stranded here. You just want to be home in your own bed.

“We can try leaving early,” he offers, “or you can call your work and let them know you’ll be late.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” you pick up your phone again but frown at the status bar. “If I have service then.”

“Should come back once the storm is gone,” Curtis assures. He’s strangely calm, even with the wailing just on the other side of the door.

“Right,” you mutter.

He’s quiet as he puts a piece into place. You set your phone down again and stare at your palm, tracing the lines as you think. You’re lost in your mind, in going back to the standard Monday to Friday. This short weekend has felt like an endless dream, sometimes skewed, other times disarming.

“What’s wrong?” Curtis asks in a deep rasp.

You pop your head up and shake it, “nothing, just… guess I’m just spacing out.”

“You think I knew or something? Forecast said the storm was coming at 4am. I didn’t wanna be stuck out here either.”

“I know, I didn’t…. Didn’t say that.”

“But you were thinking it, weren’t you?”

“No,” you pout, “no, I was just thinking about work. What I’m going to tell my boss.”

“Your boss? I’ll take care of him if I have to. Tell him it’s all my fault.”

“Yeah, I… guess.”

“Just, you’re here with me,” he insists, “so why don’t you enjoy it.”

[covenofthearticulate]

Helloooo again the blog with the most correct vc opinion <33333 What do you think Louis and Gabriel’s relationship is like in the PL era? I’ve been thinking about it and my thoughts are that people EXPECT them to hate each other due to 1) the in-law stereotype 2) the mlm/wlw hostility. But really they are fine with each other, they just have nothing in common lol. The Venn diagram of their lives is just Lestat so when he leaves the room it’s just awkward silence. And then a pause, and one starts talking about weather adsgfjfkkf. What do you think? 👀

THIS IS SUCH A GREAT ASK THANK YOU FOR SENDING IT WOWOWOW

I really wish we got more time in canon to see Louis with literally any of the female cast, but especially Gabrielle! I absolutely agree with you in that I don't think they'd be super warm towards each other, not out of malice, but simply out of a lack of commonality. Realistically, I think Gabrielle would be so unimpressed with Louis' meandering philosophies and moral qualms when it comes to hunting, whereas Louis would be off put by her rejection of civility and overall lack of manners. (and on a funnier note, I'm not sure if Louis would know how to process Gabrielle's specific brand of Gender Fuckery, like he's chill with androgyny but I do wonder how he would feel about her masc energy LMAO)

But there has to be a mutual respect there (maybe even a sense of comfort), especially when it comes to their concern over Lestat. I could definitely see Louis trying to draw connections between Gabrielle's behavior and Lestat's—maybe every once in a blue moon he gathers the courage to ask her something about Lestat's childhood, which is inevitably met with surprise and a long painful silence, before a curt response (or maybe he sometimes accidentally leaves his thoughts unguarded when he's around her and thinking about the Marquis, and the time he spent with Lestat's mortal father, though I think Gabrielle might be offended by that LOL).

Also, despite her demeanor, I do think Gabrielle would have at least a little curiosity about why on earth her son has picked this man, out of everyone, to fawn over. Maybe she also draws parallels between Louis and Nicki. Maybe she kept a beat up copy of IWTV stashed away in one of her travel coat pockets, and read the bits with Lestat over and over in the 70s.

And like....it's so terrible that all the time they really spend together is under insane, traumatic circumstances! As if the whole QOTD fiasco wasn't bad enough, I am always curious about what their time looked like during Lestat's hiatus post-Memnoch. We know Louis insisted on keeping watch over Lestat, to the point of starvation, and I wonder if Gabrielle ever spoke to him or spent time with him in that basement. I imagine she would be one of the few folks Louis would trust in the room alone with Lestat, but like, did they ever mourn together? Did they ever discuss what had happened to him, or debate over how to best care for him? Did Louis ever lash out at her for being too cold or too absent?

ALSO LIKE!!!!!! What is their relationship post-Rhoshmandes kidnapping?! ANNE PLEASE, I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!! I know it's unlikely that either of them would approach the other to discuss the shared trauma there but like, does their relationship change? Does it soften, or does it become more fraught as they each react differently to the trauma? Though we don't get much in the books, I always imagined it would be something that Gabrielle would repress and/or brush off and move on from, whereas Louis is much more volatile in his attempt to process it all. I wonder if they ever butt heads in that regard!!

SO MANY QUESTIONS AAAAHHH WE NEED MORE LOUIS AND GABRIELLE CONTENT!!!!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi

Alot of people are saying Meleanor and Maellus are the same when she shot everyone with lightening. But I think she is more extreme. At the very least Malleus hasn't hit anyone, though their have been some close calls. But he has never threatened to hurt sebek, Lilia, or Silver. Melenore and Maellus are similar, but I think Malleus is more in control. Lilia does reprimand him if he acts up or he loses thought.

Mmm, well... I don't really think it's fair to say one is considered "worse" or "better" than the other in terms of control of their powers and emotions??? They're a lot alike, but they're also at completely different points in their lives and under much different circumstances. We also get a very limited perspective of one (Meleanor) over the other (Malleus), who is very much a prominently featured character.

Both Meleanor and Malleus in their basest forms are temperamental, and their bad mood stirs changes in the weather. The old adage, "like mother, like son" is very applicable here. The main difference between them is that Meleanor, the parent and adult, has more responsibilities and lived during a warring period.

We hear tales of Meleanor acting up and letting her powers flare out of control in her youth, and that parallels what we know of Malleus's childhood (ie when he froze the castle and many servants). They are the same. However, I would say that Meleanor's emotions running high is considerably more understandable (at least during the instance when we actually physically see her in the dream), considering that she's in the middle of a war and the life of herself and her unborn child are at risk. She's not just "shooting everyone with lightning" because she's lost her temper for no real reason. Meleanor is mad at Lilia and the soldiers for not showing up to defend her and her child. She had NO reason to believe her men would be returning with humans (Yuu, Sebek, Silver, Grim) in tow (who would be much more susceptible to being hurt from her magic than a fae), so I don’t think she was shooting at them specifically; they just got caught in the crossfires. I have no doubt that Meleanor could have done some serious damage with her magic, but since she's expecting only enemy soldiers or her own to walk through that door, I do feel like she has her reasons??? Like, if it's enemy soldiers, then those humans are for sure fried. But if it's her own soldiers, then she's most likely expecting them to be experienced enough to avoid her strikes (since they are, after all, trained rigorously to protect the royal family). Seriously striking down her own soldiers in a time of war only hurts herself, doesn't it?? Meleanor's anger focuses on Lilia and Lilia alone when he refuses her order to take her baby and leave her to fend for herself. I don't believe that she seriously intended to harm Lilia in that moment; she needs him alive and well to ensure the safety of her son. If anything, it feels like she summoned that lightning (the second time) to try and scare Lilia into running or as some kind of "test" to prove his readiness to do so. (Keep in mind that Lilia at this point was ALSO holding Malleus's egg while Meleanor was trying to blast him; do you think she would honestely try to decimate her friend and her baby when she just told Lilia to make sure the baby was kept safe?) This only got messed up because Silver (bless him) leapt in the way to defend his father, because to him, the danger still felt very real. Comparatively, Malleus gets upset over what are much more mundane things simply due to being a student during a time of peace (not being invited somewhere, Lilia getting a text message from a friend, etc). He does an excellent job of self-regulating most of the time, but he also has bad days when he expresses intent to harm those that anger him or at least considers it (ie the Magicam Monsters during the first Halloween event, Rook in his PE vignette (until he realizes Rook is purposefully provoking him), Rollo in Glorious Masquerade for deceiving him). Maybe he hasn't ever threatened to hurt Diasomnia, but that doesn't mean everyone is safe. Look at book 7, he did not hesitate to turn his magic against the people he cares about to force them to comply with his desires. Malleus is immature and doesn't know a lot about the world, nor is he able to easily cope with change or things that already escape his understanding, which results in these kinds of incidents. And like... even if Malleus doesn't mean to hurt people, that doesn't negate the harm he does do, does it? Just because he "never hit anyone" with his magic (at least not that we know of) doesn't mean he can't hurt in other ways. Think of the worry he caused in Endless Halloween Night or as far back as when he (accidentally) froze various servants in the castle. All of book 7 is also indirectly hurting people; he's not allowing them to live their lives and is deciding it FOR them. Even if Malleus doesn't see what he's doing as harmful, the truth of the matter is that it IS harmful. (Mr. Shroud even surmises that without food or water in those bodies forced to sleep, the dreamers might actually die.)

To quickly touch on Lilia, he shouldn't be used to excuse or to hand-wave away any bad behaviors on Malleus or Meleanor's parts. Yes, Lilia is an important person in both of their lives. Yes, he tells them off for their actions--but 1) his words are not always taken into consideration, understood, or followed through on by Malleus (such as in the Dorm Uniform vignettes) and Meleanor, and 2) there are also instances when Lilia enables them instead of discouraging them from acting out. (Endless Halloween Night comes to mind for Malleus.) Additionally, 3) Malleus and Maleanor have a a certain amount of accountability for their own actions, since they are beings independent of Lilia. To entirely fault Lilia for Malleus’s/Maleanorms attitude is like saying Mrs. Rosehearts is responsible for what Riddle himself did to his classmates in book 1. That’s unfair and it is shifting blame to someone else in order to shield the actual culprit. As Ace says back in book 1, Riddle (/Malleus or Maleanor) may be his mother’s (/Maleanor’s or Maleficia’s) child, but he is still responsible for his own actions and should own up to them.

Malleus, like his mother, HAS to learn how to better control himself or risk repeating these same mistakes with or without Lilia. Let's not forget too, it's Malleus who Overblotted, a condition which arises mainly due to negative emotions. I don't know if I would call that a demonstration of being "more in control", but rather a sign of Malleus’s immaturity and inability to accept change 💦 ADDENDUM: it is implied later in book 7 that Meleanor also Overblotted, but not out of negative emotions but rather that she overexerts her magic when fighting.

We don’t know as much about Meleanor or how much of her childish tantrums (like the incident where she blew up part of a castle) carried over to adulthood. We also don’t know enough about her to understand if she ever compromised the safety of others like how Malleus did in his own childhood (again, the whole ice thing). When her castle is under siege, she takes control of the situation and makes a plan, then confronts the Silver Owls for a duel. She’s somewhat selfish in her insistent commands to Lilia, but then again, she has to be—she’s a sovereign with people she desperately wants to protect. Malleus is actually just as immature as his mother was as a child. It's possible to see him as "more in control" because we have so many other instances of him being calm and rational to refer to. Meanwhile, we only hear about Meleanor's destructive rampages via stories and have only one real instance of interacting with her to refer to, and she's being violent for most of it. We have very few instances of her being nice or pleasant to compare to, so by focusing only on what we physically witness, a biased interpretation of her can form. In reality, neither mother nor son is "worse" or “better” than the other—again, the standard for comparison for the two’s present behavior is not equal to begin with.

Malleus needs to be given the time to learn and grow to get to the same position and maturity that his mother reached. He’s still at a point where he’s insecure about his relationships and with the change that comes with the passage of time, not a pillar of control—and that’s just a consequence of his youth and lack of real-life experiences. That’s not to say that Meleanor is perfect or that she’s somehow “more” controlled than Malleus; they're both powerful, demanding, domineering types, which is how the Draconia family in general is described. It’s Meleanor's age and experiences have helped to temper her into a leader who knows what she most wants to prioritize in a live-threatening moment. She still uses force to get her way, but utilizes her powers with a more learned wisdom that deviates from Malleus.

[mysadblacksoul]

Backslide - 3/13 of the Clancy album

Grab a coffee and let's start this madness

MV

Tyler is wearing the same clothes that he wore in Overcompensate MV to I would assume that this MV takes place right after

Let's break down the signs first

We see the return of Ned Bayou as well as FPA, now standing for Food Petrol Etc.

You can buy 9 buns for $21, love the symbolism

There is a Jim sign omg. Baby is having his own bubblegum business

Of course the Bishops sign with 9 lines marked on it

I could've sworn that the black sign says "Dema Vapes", but looking closely I believe it's "Velma Vapes" lol

What is more, the cones (?) are yellow and I'm pretty sure that the fact that there are 5 of them is not an accident

They sold him bread that went bad lol. Nah for sure it's not the case since he gives the same bread to a child

But I believe that the scene and the lyrics are closely tied with Stressed Out

Now the next scene is interesting

I think that the bad weather is a simple metaphor for feelings of anxiety or fear

We can see that Tyler was contemplating then he was suddenly pulled from his thoughts

This is when the scene changes to normal, right? Exactly on the line It's over my head

Then we move to the scene with the kid

And I really believe that this little lad is personification of Ned

Like he has the same boba eyes lol

No but for real, this is parallel to Chlorine - kid is giving Tyler a cup just like Tyler gave to Ned. Yet he accepts it and drinks whatever is inside and Ned just shudders

Another interesting thing, that could make my point more valid is that the kid literally asks Is that a stain? You should change / Are you doin' good? / Did you solve all of your problems? like he knows Tyler very well and is in a way looking out for him

It's like he's keeping Ned by him - okat I'll stop

It might be a stretch, but the N kinda looks like a mirrored band symbol, do you also see it?

If 0.75c is equivalent to the cost of one bun than Tyler is being ripped off since he paid $21 for the pack instead of $6.75 lmao

Something is really wrong with those buns lmao

Then the mood changes again, but this time is even worse. Like his mental health is declining even more and even faster

The bread is wet, the day is ruined, thanks Mr. Joseph

You killed it Josh, love your creative mind

*funny music stops*

Now let's talk about the way how the MV is looping itself

I would say that it is a demonstration of the twisted circle that is life

Maybe it's a very basic analysis but I think of all the complicated lore-oriented MVs this one is uncomplicated

What is shown here is how our psyche can play tricks on us and how we can complicate a rather simple situation ourselves

If Tyler hadn't had dark thoughts then nothing would have happened to the bread, so he would have just gone and given it to Josh

This shows how our psyche itself can abolish the situation in which we find ourselves

Looping, on the other hand, shows that as long as we don't do anything about it ourselves, we will be stuck in this fishbowl (see what I did there?)

Maybe it's one big AD to check your mental health and a sign to try to get better

Lyrics!

Rat race, place to place, adding weight / Tendencies on repeat, innit? - rat race for sure happened in Dema, and repeat is literaly the loop, innit meand that Clancy is canonicaly British

Benefit from a shoe with no lace - shoe with no lace would make you fall back on the behaviour that you are running from

Take the seat with the crease in it - seat of someone who already tried to change their life, or even who had the same dreams and hopes for better future like Clancy

This could be parallel to When I leave, don’t save my seat/ I’ll be back when it’s all complete from Chlorine

I don't care, you control me / Leading me anywhere - well, all I should say is Dema don't control me and we all know the rest of the story

I don't wanna backslide to where I've started from - he doesn't wanna go back to his back habits as well as doesn't wanna go back to his life before he tried to escape

There's no chance I will shake this again - if he falls back one more time that will be the end of him. His psyche won't take it anymore and his plans will be buried

'Cause I feel the pull, water's over my head - this is parallel to Fall Away And I, I can feel the pull begin. But it also gives me the parallel to Holding On To You MV, the scene with the rope

Strength enough for one more time - like I said, this would be the last attempt to change everything

Reach my hand above the tide - it could indicate that his physical strength is also wearing out

I'll take anything you have / If you could throw me a line - again with the line. But it also can mean that he can endure anything now, he just needs a little helping hand

I should've loved you better - this line can be directed both to himself but also to the person who extends his hand to help. He might not have appreciated both parts before and now regrets it

Do you think that now's the time / You should let go? - This line is like both a request and an apology. As if he wants to say “I'm sorry I treated you badly before but please don't leave me when I need help”

Bad place, on a hundred-dollar bass - this line is also giving me Stressed Out. You can imagine the cheap bass being transported on the bicycle right?

Kinda wishin' that I never did "Saturday" - I think that he doesn't mean the MV irl lol, but the regret of taking part in Bishops' manipulation altogether

Is that a stain? You should change - a play with mentioning Saturday and the lirycs She said that I should change my clothes

Are you doin' good? / Did you solve all of your problems? - like I said before I believe that this is Ned looking out for Clancy, wishing him well

Thanks for asking, in a way, but / Accidentally uncovered a new one yesterday - safe to say that he is not doing better lol

What happened to what I brushed under the rug? - what happened to how well he used to be able to hide his problems and true feelings

I used to be the champion of a world you can't see / Now I'm drowning in logistics - if viewed as a fact that he created this world it now looks like he wants to regain all control over it. Logistics is to take care of the management of planning. And once again we see the mention of drowning

The bridge is acting as an externalization of his myhs and fears that even if he is outside the Dema, the Bishops will still have control over him

The entire song is about both regaining conrol over the world of Dema but also regaining control over himself, his psyche.

The main theme is about not going back to old habits.

The most important thing here is progress and pushing forward.

Because one wrong move can make all the work in vain and we will sink to the very bottom.

Safe to say that I liked it haha

[lucidheart3]

Here is an addition to my Sonic Live action fic series; Different Kinds, Kindered Souls

It is longer than my usual fics so I’m only posting a small part here, hope you all like it!

————————————

“Seriously Knux, are you alright?” Sonic’s voice takes him out of his trance, and he worriedly glances at Knuckles, who grunts in response. His expression looks distressed, and he’s panting a lot more than usual. Tails looks over at the computer to somehow find an answer. The programme doesn’t detect any decrease in Knuckles’ base power, but he is shown to be falling into defensive a lot. Tails compares the data to the previous fights, and sees that this has been the case for the several of their latest spars, which parallels the rising trend of Sonic’s base power. The answer is clear to Tails, Sonic is catching up to Knuckles. Sure, Knuckles is a powerhouse, even without generating chaos energy, but the amount of power behind his punches only matters if it collides with Sonic, like the latter had argued before. Albeit less powerful, Sonic can easily pack a nasty punch or kick using his momentum and take Knuckles by suprise.

But that doesn’t really explain older boy’s frustrations, Tails thinks the boy would be proud of his brother, having declared that Sonic is a noble warrior and all, right? Maybe he feels under the weather today, and the spar is straining him. The thought worries him more, since Knuckles has a bad habit of not telling anyone when he’s unwell.

“Knux, you’d tell us if you were sick, right?” Tails says, and Knuckles frowns. Sonic backs away from the fight, awaiting an answer, but the echidna gets more annoyed. Sonic and Tails’ eyes meet, and they pass worried glances to one another in every passing moment Knuckles doesn’t answer them. Then, just after Knuckles catches his breath, he lunges at Sonic, who narrowly avoids one hell of a punch. Tails gasps, and Sonic chuckles to dissipate the bad mood.

“Dude, this is giving me flashbacks! None of ‘em are good. At all!” Sonic says, his voice trembling slightly, and he is exerting himself to avoid Knuckles’ attacks. The programme alerts Tails of Knuckles’ increase of powers. In fact, he is on the verge of sparking. Tails also notices Knuckles’ short breaths, his eyes are unfocused, and he doubts Knuckles recognises his opponent as Sonic at the moment. Not anymore.

“Sonic, I think you guys should wrap this up, quick!”

“Buddy! What a great idea! Right, Knux?” Sonic slides to a stop, and holds out his arms defensively. Knuckles halts in his step.

“What it is, hedgehog? Afraid you’ll lose?”

“Nope! No need to be afraid when it’s you I’m sparring! It’s all to improve, right?!” Sonic says, trying again to lighten the dark aura he can feel surrounds Knuckles.Tails is about to sigh in relief but red sparkles envelope Knuckles’ fists, making Tails doubt that the words got through to Knuckles the way Sonic intended them to.

“Then you must have forgotten who you’re up against!” Knuckles declares, and before Tails can interfere, he lands a punch on Sonic’s stomach, sending him to the other side of the backyard.

[jaggedwolf]

tlou s2e2 opinions, full spoilers for the second game below

that's one way to solve a housing crisis

stuff I liked

Ellie says to Jesse, casually and confidently, dude we all know that you're going to run Jackson one day, and damn if that didn't break my heart. Jesse's been great, btw, loved the replication of the morning doorway conversation

Ellie dragging herself closer to dead Joel...pressing herself as physically close to him as she can...I almost wish that was the last we saw of him and her this episode...

Ellie yelling get up Joel get the fuck up immediately brought me back to that scene in that game

that and Dina getting drugged I thought were nice ways around the "conveniently knocked out for the appropriate amount of time" trope that also elevated the lodge scene

golf club remained! golfing jokes will continue until morale is crushed to zero

very good job displaying the discord within WLF squad, especially Mel

zombies hiding under a snowy layer of dead zombies is fucking creepy and stressed the fuck out of me, good job show

even frostbitten Dina trying to understand what's going on with lodge crew and asking about the WLF patch, going no no no about being drugged...protect her...

I wasn't unmoved by Maria and Tommy in the game but I think I am more attached to them in the show and this is gonna be rough bro. Emphasizing their and Joel's role in Jackson as a community has been a really good aspect of these episode.

I have a suspicion about where the Eugene stuff is heading and I'm very into it.

stuff i'm silly/neutral on

rip bigot sandwiches. did they make Seth more genuinely remorseful here or am I misremembering? will find out when I replay the game

i'm neutral on swapping Dina for Tommy as Joels' patrol partner. There never needed to be an excuse for name disclosure, and the idea that Dina had insufficient motivations for going with Ellie in the game is a very foolish idea - even if they weren't dating, Ellie is her best friend. of course she would. same reason Jesse does.

But Dina being able to recognize the WLFs is intriguing, and given the parallels between the characters it tickles my brain to have Dina and Mel be so physically close this episode

I will absolutely be annoyed if Ellie and Dina are not together together before the departure for Seattle though, that'd be dumb. I don't need a getting together story for these two. (oh god, or if we don't get Ellie/Dina banging but maintain the explicitness of the Abby/Owen scene. I'm fine if we skip both.)

Jackson simultaneously readying themselves for an attack, sending out pair patrols, and working on pipes, all while a blizzard was raging felt a tad stupid to me. It's a completely random day in the game, and IIRC, the weather doesn't look bad enough for anyone to comment on it while patrols leave Jackson.

This is what happens when you don't take New Years Day off people, don't let it happen to you

Tommy having all the runners ignore him as he baited the bloater was him stealing all of Joel's plot armor, I've decided.

Yet I do enjoy the indications here that even Tommy and Maria are not immune to the human flaw that drives the plot of TLOU - my person over duty, my person over my community, my person over your people, my person over the fucking world.

I understand you hired Kaitlyn Dever and Pedro Pascal and Isabela Merced and so you want to show off their faces as much as possible, but it is impossible for me to take them seriously when they run around outside in a blizzard with zero covering of their faces or mouths. From what I've seen, all three are capable of acting with their eyes. Maybe let them do that?

This is probably just a reality of the set, but RIP staircase down to door of doom

stuff I did not like

okay...oh boy...first let me say nothing I say in this section is criticism against the actors and their acting abilities/choices. I think every actor is knocking it out of the park with what they're given

but I think it's completely fair to be displeased with the casting of Dever as Abby, and anyone going "people were upset Abby was muscular and now they're upset she isn't, how stupid" or "HDU criticize an actress's looks, very sexist of you" isn't worth listening to.

Abby's physicality in the game served gameplay purposes, yes, but it also (1) indicated the level of determination she'd approached her revenge mission (2) indicated her rigor in her WLF work (3) was frankly satisfying to see, given the general tendency for even action-hero female characters to be skinny and/or small and/or physically unimposing (4) made the first fight between Ellie and Abby interesting in their respective advantages (5) made the final state that we see Abby in sobering. Losing these, especially (3), is a bummer.

People saying that it is impossible to find a buff actress or even an actress that is noticeably more physically imposing than Ramsey that is good at acting...be for real. I had my writing critiques for Brienne in GoT but even there they managed to find Big Girl.

All of that said, Dever is mostly very good in the lodge scene. The way she conveys Abby's violence and vulnerability, her frustration with her friends and which of them she cajoles, her delivery of lines from the game

but the monologue to Joel felt very silly. Did you know the doctor was my dad?? Have you already guessed that??? uh how on earth would he have guessed that. why are you making Dever say these lines when she would've done a very good job with game!Abby getting interrupted sooner.

Oh god, and she doesn't get to declare game!Abby's final decision that they are leaving Ellie (and Dina or Tommy) alive, that they are Done, which helps her "We let you both live, and you wasted it!" rage later on.

why are you having Abby balk at torture, when in the game it's heavily implied Abby's done it before but doesn't want to confess that to Lev. why do that soft-pedal.

If the intention of the early revelation of the Fireflies or dead dad was to add sympathy for Abby early in place of the early focus on Ellie in the game, I both think that's wrongheaded and that it doesn't work, because murdering Joel overrides that sympathy.

The game does it smartly by having the Fireflies reveal, however obvious, be explicitly stated right when Ellie is being extraordinarily cruel to Nora, and the Abby's dad reveal happen right before we are stuck spending time with Abby and cannot escape her PoV.

Neither does Ellie escape the show's insistence on Loudly Stating Exactly What Feelings Are Happening right now, because we basically get her telling Jesse that she and Joel have made up. Why. Why do that. Let Ramsey react more subtly to a casual mention of Joel and Dina out on patrol together. An explicit update on Ellie's Joel feelings is not needed for that brilliant burst of grief and sorrow at seeing Joel gone.