#Waiting for a message to come

[tradingstorieswiththeleaves]

Eddie Vedder as a pirate and singing the Jack Sparrow song from that Michael Bolton sketch. The thing I never knew I needed and now I can't live without.

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

He just wants to be missed

[spooksier]

deltarune tomorrow, pandorica radio at some point idk give me a year or two

[oneroomjestershow]

CHICKEN NUGGET!!!!!!!!!!!!

I deep fried him for you

[saetiate]

hi @mangostarjam i cannot believe you left this in the tags ohmygod

fuji’s og rb

[pushing500]

As if we would go anywhere without our loyal android. Alistair is coming, and... I think he's probably happy about it in his own way. Perhaps seeing the majesty of the first Archonexus structure will be the catalyst for his awakening? Who knows?

That does leave us with one last choice to make. I think this one is the one I'm most unsure about the result of. I had a pretty good idea where the other three were going, but this one could be the wild card. Let's find out!

For the very last time, here are our options...

Why should we bring Tokori?

- He has an expertise in first aid, which will likely be an essential skill in setting up a new colony

- If his medical skill doesn't work, he can also raise the dead (nine more times, at least. Then he's out of fingers to sacrifice.)

- He's got a detoxifier lung and a detoxifier kidney, which could both be useful for dealing with pollution in our new colony

- We only just met him, so it will be a good opportunity to get to know him more

- He's a delight to draw and still has both his natural eyes so I can have fun drawing them

Why should we leave Tokori behind?

- We only just met him, so we wouldn't miss him as much as some of the others

- Mechi and Kwahu are both accomplished doctors, so we don't really need a third one

- It would feel really bad to leave Lansa all on his own at Sparks

- He would be sad if we didn't get plumbing and a bathtub set up ASAP

- Addiction to coffee in more than one person may be difficult to keep in check while we set up a new colony

- Seeing the same face drawn over and over again will surely become tedious eventually, right?

Why should we bring Lansa?

- He's still getting used to being alive and needs someone responsible to keep an eye on him

- He's got untapped psycaster potential that we still need to explore

- He is the only Jones boy NOT addicted to coffee so we don't have to facilitate that in a new colony

- He's a delight to draw

Why should we leave Lansa behind?

- He's grumpy and rude and dislikes most of the other colonists already

- He hasn't been alive in this colony for very long so we won't miss him as much as some of the others

- It would feel really bad to leave Tokori all on his own at Sparks

- His bionic eyes are less fun to draw than they could be

- Seeing the same face drawn over and over again will surely become tedious eventually, right?

Why should we bring Melissa?

- Having a colonist with unnatural healing abilities akin to reusable healer mech serums is op as hell and also very cool

- Even if she didn’t have creepjoiner healing powers, she has fun cancer powers

- Every new colony benefits from a creepy blind grandma

- Mechi and Kwahu owe her for saving them from duplication sickness

- She’s a delight to draw

Why should we leave Melissa behind?

- Everyone hates her more than usual because she’s super ugly

- She’s blind

- Apparently the creepjoiner unnatural healing has the potential for nasty side effects

- We haven’t had any creepjoiner negative side effects from her yet, but she’s been at an outpost which might have paused the countdown for it to show up

- She’s polyamorous, which means she’ll constantly be sad that she’s not in a relationship

Why should we bring XiaoLiang?

- He’s always been there for Mechi and co., it seems appropriate for him to follow them and continue to help out

- He’s very cool

- He’s got an expertise in sharpshooting which is bound to be useful

- We might run into his grandpa Paul again and it’d be nice if they met

- He's 100% got a crush on the Jones boys and that'd be funny to watch

- He’s a delight to draw

Why should we leave XiaoLiang behind?

- Perhaps it’s time for XiaoLiang to go back to being a wandering Man in Black

- He’s an undergrounder, which means he’ll get upset if we make him go out to hunt or otherwise put his shooting expertise to good use

- He’s polyamorous, which means he’ll constantly be sad that he’s not in a relationship

- He's 100% got a crush on the Jones boys and they would be extremely annoyed having to deal with it

- His grandpa Paul might show up to Sparks again, and it’d be nice if they met

Why should we bring Flapjack?

- He’s a little bit good at every skill which is very useful for starting a new colony

- He is kind, which means he’ll get along with everyone no matter how disfigured they are by flesh whips or cut-out eyes

- My brother says he has a "cool beard" and you "can't beat that"

- Looks a bit like Jesus

- He’s a delight to draw

Why should we leave Flapjack behind?

- Not a particularly interesting colonist so far

- He’s just sort of got NPC energy

- Looks a bit like Jesus

- Good at lots of skills but not great at any

Why should we bring Jut?

- He’s a good boy and I love him

- Incredible melee ability which is useful for defending a new colony

- Can explode people with his mind

- We already know his creepjoiner downside (it's the "disturbing" trait) so we don't need to worry about anything more serious popping up in the future

- Sanguophage powers might be useful

- Speaks French

- He’s a delight to draw

Why should we leave Jut behind?

- He’d need to steal other people's hemogen from time to time

- He’s "disturbing" and makes the others uncomfortable sometimes

- He’s blind

- He’s French

Godspeed everyone. Put your best vote forward.

First | Next | Previous

[teddybeartoji]

i keep ghosting people bc in my head i'm sure i've already replied back to them?????????? i hear how fucking stupid that sounds like my god it's like the most pathetic excuse ever but i just.. it's happened multiple times now AND I DON'T EVEN REALIZE I'VE DONE IT BEFORE IT'S SO FUCKING LATE when they don't reply back i just think oh they might be busy or smth . only to realize that I'M the one who hasn't fucking said anything👍

[butmakeitgayblog]

Jumping in on the CI appreciation. The dynamic is just so fun and deceptively beautiful as messed up as they are. You are a great writer and have a unique way of captivating a reader. Kudos and much success however you choose to pursue your talent! Speaking of… have you written or plan on writing that blowout fight scene (post hospital release) where Lexa draws the proverbial line so to say?

CI fight 😈

///////////////////////

This is the stupidest you've ever felt in your life.

Which is saying a lot, considering the sheer amount of reckless and dumb shit you have done.

But this absolutely takes the cake you decide as your hired nurse wheels you into your lounge room, the sheets already turned back on your couch-turned-makeshift bed and the mountain of your wife's borrowed pillows that are already fluffed to within an inch of their goddamn life.

Your hip kills every time you try to stand on it and your back feels like it'd gone one too many rounds with a baseball bat, and thanks to the four fractured bones in your wrist, you can't even deal with it on your own with the use of a crutch or cane. So instead, you hang on to this fucking stranger and woddle over like a toddler, sweating through all three herculean steps it takes until you can sink down into the godsend that is your new recovery zone.

You wave her off with your good arm once she gets you settled. Tell her you're fine and to stop fucking hovering because you didn't even really need a nurse to move in with you to begin with.

But your wife had insisted and left no room for argument, and well... You're not very good at telling her no when she's upset.

So here the hell you are.

Your grousing is hushed by the sweeter notes of your wife's voice when she comes trailing in behind you with that familiar sharp clicking of her heels.

She apologizes for your lack of manners and tells RN Whats-her-name she can go get settled in the guest room that she'd already showed her - you suppose she must have gotten the grand tour at some point while you were still laid up in the hospital.

Ass out in a gown and perpetually high as a kite.

Not your finest point in life.

Not the lowest either.

At least the drugs made it a good time...

Your temple throbs when your 'guest' excuses herself and snaps the doors shut behind her, making you groan and reach to rub at the bandage taped to the side of your head.

Fingers quicker than yours catch you before you can do any damage.

"Don't," Lexa warns you in a whisper more gently than you had expected, considering she's had to remind you three times already today.

You murmur your sorries and pout because it hurts, but can't help but breathe lighter when she slips into the space between your legs.

Rather than settling in your lap as you'd foolishly hoped for, she perches on the edge of the coffee table instead. She smells so good and her gorgeous face is so serene when she gets comfortable and looks at you dead in the eye.

But then she folds her fingers together and she leans her elbows on her knees, and you already know you're in for some kind of ass chewing.

Fantastic.

She levels you with that 'wife look' she gets. The one that tells you that she means business.

Nobody warned you about that when you'd agreed to this whole 'marriage' thing.

"So," she breathes, only pausing to lick her kissable lips, "Welcome home, Darling."

You snort a laugh through your nose that still hurts where it's swollen but the good drugs kinda help you not care. "Thanks for having me, babe. Nice place you got here," you say in sarcasm-dipped words.

She merely hums and gives you a narrow-eyed grin that feels sexy and distinctly lethal.

"Yes. I've missed you in it. I've missed having you here. With me."

That softens you. Lulls you into a false sense of security.

"I missed you too, baby."

"Good. Then," she says in a quick breath that sounds not unlike ripping off a bandaid. "I wanted you to know that I've taken the liberty of finding a buyer. Well, a few of them, really. All predictably salivating over the collection. But I supposed it'd be appropriate that we talk about the logistics of this before moving forward. I'm open to deferring to your expertise in this field when it came to numbers because, frankly, I'm more than willing to just give the fucking things away. So, we should talk about this."

You smile, because you're an idiot, and you think it's hilarious that she's talking to you like one of her clients. But you also smile because you're a little high off your medicine, and she's really just so pretty, and because not one word of that made any sense.

"What's... 'this'? What're you— Talk about the logistics of what?"

"Selling your cars," she answers with an easy nod, like it absolutely should've been obvious.

The silence that rings through the apartment feels loud in your ears... before you burst out laughing right in her face.

"What?" you choke out and chuckle, because you must've heard that wrong. "What are you talking about?"

"Just what I said, my love." She reaches out boops the tip of your nose with a patronizingly scrunched smile. "You know I don't like repeating myself."

"That's cute, Lexa," you titter and swipe at the hand that's already so far out of reach.

"Oh I'm not kidding, Clarke."

"Okay. And I'm not selling my cars."

"No, actually, you are."

You scoff and use the shoulder that isn't currently trussed up in a sling to push you hair off your neck so you can see her better. Or... something.

Because all you really see is the calm of her smile. Those eyes that are sharp. Hollow. Unyielding. And if you'd looked beyond the swell of anger that suddenly bursts through your chest, you might've seen the whispered-smoke of terror that hid in their depths.

But you do not.

Instead you focus all of your righteous indignation and stubbornness that burns white hot. You give a derisive laugh, and shake your head, and level her with a cold stare of your own.

Making sure she hears your every word, loud and clear.

"No. The fuck. I am not."

It almost feels like victory when her smile falls away.

"Clarke," she says with a deathly click to your name, "I want those deathtraps gone."

"Lexa—"

"I don't care."

"Lexa—"

"Stop saying my name, because whatever comes after it, I promise you, I do not care."

"Well I don't really fucking care either," you spit just to get a rise out of her, "because I'm not doing it, and I don't give shit what you say, Alexandria."

Her jaw ticks to the side as her eyes flash with hellfire.

She hates that name and you know it but right now you just want her to be every bit as angry as you are.

"Okay," she says so quiet you barely hear her over the hammering of your heart as she pushes on her knees to stand up and hovers over you for a moment.

And you think it's a victory because it feels like a victory...

Until it does not.

Because she just nods.

And keeps nodding.

Just this slow up and down of her head, her eyes empty and her face cold, but not in the way that you fell in love with.

This only fills your chest with dread.

So it's a shock when she straddles your hips, planting one knee on each side and sinks down to sit in your lap. Her weight is comforting after your stay in the hospital, if not a little painful in the way it twinges your fucked up leg. But you don't even let yourself flinch because God you've missed this. You've missed her, and her scent, and the way she practically drapes herself over you.

Your good arm wraps around her waist and digs fingertips into the soft dip of her spine, pulling her flush against you. You soak up the flutter of her lashes at the feel of your breasts pressing against hers; the way she fidgets not to grind down like her body's muscle memory is obviously screaming at her to do.

Instead she stares at you through those dark hooded eyes, now so beautifully filled with emotions that make your heart pound out a more pleasant rhythm than before.

"I love you, Clarke," she says. Whispers.

And your breath catches in your chest.

Same as it does each time she says those words, so fleeting and so rare as they are that they pierce straight through the mushiest parts of your heart. Because you know she loves you. You know it in every single thing she does. But there's just... It's just... Nothing will ever rival these moments when she lets them slip out, so unguarded and vulnerable with you.

And really... that should've been a warning.

"And I love you, pretty girl," you whisper right back instead, grinning as she preens under the praise, so lost in her beautiful face you don't even remember there exists a world beyond her.

You watch her throat dip in a thick swallow, her hands smoothing up the length of your neck. She cups your cheeks as her eyes trace every line of your face... as if she were committing this moment to memory.

She shakes her head. Sadly.

"I adore you," she says again, softer still and with more conviction. "Everything. I adore everything about you, Clarke. I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my entire life. And I'm always going to love you, no matter what."

When she kisses you then, in that moment, it's possibly the softest, purest thing you have ever known. She kisses you like it's the only thing she needs in this world and you hope she knows it's the same for you. Because her lips pillow and give under every caress of your lips, and her tongue slipping against yours feels like the only home you've ever known. It's one kiss among thousands you've shared. But you know you'll think of this one for years to come, and honestly if fighting gets you loving like this then you should really make a mental note to call her by her birth name more often...

She breaks the kiss with a sigh, and a shuddering breath against your lips.

"I love you. So, so much... I just want you to always remember that."

You barely have time to blink out of your haze when she extracts herself from your arms and your lap and your lips, and stands up on shakey legs.

She lets out a deep breath and smooths her hands along the front herself, rigidly primping herself free of any creases you might've left.

Her chin rises in that regal arch as she looks down at you and nods once again.

"I'll have our lawyer draw up the divorce papers in the morning."

Your hand snaps out when she turns to leave and catches her shirt cuff before you even have time to think, gritting your teeth to try and bite back the sudden shock of pain that slices up your arm and explodes through your shoulder.

"Wait, what the fuck did you just say?" you practically yelp.

Her icy glare drops to the hand that holds her, jaw flexing as she watches how bad you tremble.

"Let go of me."

"Uh, no—"

"If you don't," she cuts in, enunciating with lethal precision, "I'll have to rip my arm away, and that will hurt you more, and I don't want that. Now stop acting like a child, and let go of me."

You grit your teeth and fist her cuff harder through the cold sweat of pain. "I guess you'll have to hurt me then, because I'm not letting go until you repeat what the hell you just said."

"You heard me perfectly well, my love."

"No, I don't think I did."

"Then you'll figure it out tomorrow, won't you."

You let out a strangled sound and collapse back on the couch - both from the pain and the sheer terror ripping through you. "Lexa, what is this? What are you playing at? Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not playing at anything, I'm telling you that I'm not doing this with you ever again, Clarke," she says in her crisp business voice. "The hospitals. The sitting at your bedside. The wondering if you're ever going to be able to paint again. Watching you limp around for weeks, just to turn around and do it again. I'm done."

You roll your eyes at her dramatics. "Oh my god, are serious? It was just an accident—"

"One that could've killed you."

"It wasn't even my fault."

"That's not the point," she nearly growls, all fire and fangs. "This is your third accident in four fucking years. I can't keep doing this."

"And what exactly is 'this'?"

"Waiting around to lose you!"

Your ears ring at the volume of her shout.

You swallow as she takes a moment collect herself.

Feel the lump grow in your throat as she mindlessly fiddles with the diamond on her finger.

You know it's a habit that calms her when she's feeling particularly out of control. A tick she picked up and never seemed to kick somewhere around the third year you were married.

"I trusted you," she starts again, sounding calmer. Less shaken, but still frayed at the edges. "I told how I feel about you. I told you I wouldn't— Couldn't... survive without you."

"So your solution is to divorce me now?" you scoff. "Tell me, how does that makes sense?"

"Because I have loved exactly two people in my life, Clarke... And this way? At least I won't have to bury one of them."

It's like a bucket of goddamn ice water has just been upturned over your head.

You can't help but stare at her, dumbfounded.

Because you are... so fucking stupid.

Your heart twists and it pounds and for a split second you wonder if you're having a heart attack, or if maybe this is what they mean when they talk about broken heart syndrome. Because nothing has ever hurt this bad. Nothing has ever devastated you as much this tidal wave of guilt. Nothing has ever scared you; made you feel this kind of shame so deep in your bones.

And when she drops her hands like she's given up and turns toward the door, you almost feel like you're going to throw up with the way your stomach clenches in a fresh wave of terrified dread. You want nothing more than to pop up and run over to her and explain and just fix this, but your hip and your leg and you just—You just...

You did this.

You did all of this.

"Okay," you damn near yell, sounding distinctly like a wounded animal to your own ears.

She pulls to a stop and snaps back around, "Okay, what?"

"I said... okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll fucking get rid of them," you bite right back again, desperate and annoyed and shaking so badly it's making your shoulder ache.

She stares at you, placid and unmoved.

"All of them?"

You grit your jaw and blow a breath out. "All of them... The dangerous ones at least."

She clicks her tongue and starts to turn away when you yell—

"You have to compromise with me here!"

She wheels back around with thunder in her eyes and a snarl already twisting her lips.

You know you have never needed to talk faster in your life.

"The ones that aren't street legal, they're gone, okay? Nothing that is actually dangerous stays. But I'm not getting rid of the ones that are perfectly safe, and, Lexa, I'm not getting rid of my grandfather's car. It's the only thing I have from my fucked up family that means anything to me, and it's mine, and it's not fair of you to even consider making me get rid of it."

"You hate that fucking thing—"

"I don't hate it, I love that car! That car changed my life! That car got me you."

You watch the rage bleed out of her as she slumps at the shoulders.

She runs a hand through the controlled chaos of her hair.

"That car did not get you me, Clarke," she strains out in a sigh, sounding tired and beautifully frail. "We're married because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Because I fell in love with you. Because I'm in love with you."

It makes your heart squeeze tight all over again.

"Maybe, but you wanted that car before you ever wanted me—"

"That is not true," she cuts you off in a hush of a whisper.

She stares at you with eyes clouded with devastation and hurt, and for the life of you, you don't know how to fix it.

You never seem to know how to...

The air between you feels frozen for a long moment before she seems to make up her mind about something all at once.

She shakes her head as she crosses the room in quick, elegant strides and drops to her knees right in front of you.

"Listen to me," she says, and tenderly - so tenderly - takes your least injured hand and folds it into her own. "There are so many things I regret about my life. But making that bet, and losing it, are not included. Half of the reason I ever even wanted that car to begin with was because of how attracted to you I was whenever I saw you in it."

Your scoff is loud enough to give your concussion addled brain another headache. "You are such a liar, Lexa."

Your belly swoops when she flits that damn eyebrow up in challenge.

"While I appreciate your assessment of my moral virtues," she practically purrs, "on this, darling, you happen to be wrong... All that windswept blonde hair? The way you looked like you owned everyone and everything in those shaders that you'd so carelessly slip down before pulling away?"

You wonder if you even still have those sunglasses as she bites her lip and lets her eyes run the length of you.

You'll have to check the next time you can walk properly.

Maybe have them make a reappearance at your next brunch date.

Just for old time's sake.

The hand holding yours squeezes gently.

"You were so damn cocky. The way you'd throw that thing in park and hop out. You'd just toss your keys at the doorman like you didn't care about anything. I hated it so much," she laughs with a rueful grin that slips into something entirely more fond. "And yet I could never seem to make myself stop staring at you, darling."

Even after all these years of marriage, the thought of younger her having wanted younger you...

You shift at the throb that weakly pulses between your thighs.

"So... You made the bet because... you thought I was sexy in my car?"

"I made the bet because I thought you were entirely too full of yourself," she corrects, "which I still believe. But I wanted the car because I'd envisioned getting fucked in it more times than I could count."

God you love it when she gets vulgar.

She reaches up and brushes a curl away from your forehead.

"It just took me a little while longer to realize that the person I had been imagining fucking me was - annoyingly - very much you."

You know your smile is kind of dopey right now rather than the teasing slope that you're aiming for, but later when you look back on this moment, you'll definitely blame it on the drugs.

"So our marriage is based off you wanting me to top you in my grandfather's car?"

Her faces pulls up in distaste. "No. It's based off the fact that you are—"

She pauses and exhales something from deep in her chest, her eyes closing under the weight of whatever it is she's feeling as she finally trembles out,

"That you are everything to me."

You really really really kind of hate that you're injured in that moment, because when she opens her eyes they glisten with a lovely wet sheen. And you just want nothing more than to scoop her up and hold her in your arms. Because it's where she belongs. It's where she's always been meant to be...

"You're everything to me too, baby," you say because she is and she should know it, and you really need to remember to say it more often. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lexa, I didn't— I didn't mean to..."

She nods when you can't find the words and kisses the bruised ridge of your knuckles.

Rests her forehead there for a moment as though in prayer.

When she looks at you again she's already pulled herself back together.

That's part of why you love her so much.

Always unbreakable.

Except... when it comes to you.

You have no idea what to do with that knowledge, but you know you'd give up anything just to keep it.

And you love her so much that it makes you smile. It makes you smile, because you just want to see her smile at you again. Always.

"Hey," you say, tossing in a lazy wink because you know she hates it. "You totally had a crush on me."

She rolls her eyes. "You're an idiot."

"You had a cuh-ruuuuush on me."

"Clarke. I am married to you—"

"Still," you snort. "Loser."

Her sigh of resignation is so weary it fills your heart close to bursting with how much love you have for this woman.

Because she doesn't fight you on that. Just leans her forehead against yours and nods, kissing your lips soft enough to not make the cut on them bleed again. Her nose brushes against yours in a sweet moment of aching tenderness, and when she pulls back to look at you beneath the fall of her lashes, the whole world is once again nothing but her.

"We'll go through each one together," she says somewhere between a question and a statement.

You nod in agreement, just to be safe.

"Anything remotely questionable, goes."

You heave a sigh but dutifully nod again.

"That means anything without the right mirrors, or proper turning signals. Engines that might blow up for no reason. Anything that was recalled decades ago. Anything with brakes that have a habit of failing... Anything that doesn't have fucking seat belts."

As her list grows you mentally tick off a good two-thirds of your collection.

You glance at her lips and remember how they feel against yours first thing in the morning, and simply nod again.

"Fine. But also? You can't just start threatening divorce every time you want me to do something, you know," you murmur still, because while you're compromising here... you really feel the need to remind her that she's not domesticating you or anything.

She doesn't seem remotely affected by your pout when she just shrugs and grins and leans forward.

You feel distinctly like a puppy on a leash when she pecks a placating kiss to your lips.

And then another to the tip of your nose.

"We'll see."

[spaceistheplaceart]

thinkin about dr. coomer

imagine you're stuck in Black Mesa. Everyone's dying around you, there's awful green goop and aliens everywhere... You want to get out of this place and return to your normal life. So does the group of friends you've made along the way, some you've known for quite some time, and some you've just met. You're fighting to get out.

You're finally outside. You think you can just book it and get out of this nightmare now, start trekking in the desert because anything is better than this. so you jump over the mountains and--

realize that you came into existence just yesterday. There is no way out, there never was. you have to stay inside Black Mesa and fight for... nothing. before, you were fighting to get out. but there is no way out, and never will be.

but you won't give in so easily. There has to be a way out. you'll find one, even if you have to make one.

the thought drives you crazy, until crawling inside Gordon's open wounds sounds like a perfectly reasonable idea. But once that final, desperate, attempt fails... well! it seems there's no hope after all. might as well stick along for the ride. might as well give up.

except Dr. Coomer doesn't give up for long. he's grasping at ways to free himself up until the very end and beyond it. He pleas Gordon to save them at the end of HLVRAI, and as seen in the HL2VRAI trailer- he's still trying to contact Gordon for, what to him, is 20 years.

Dr. Coomer is a man who never, ever, gives up. even when it's hopeless. even when everyone else has left a long ago.

[milogoestogreendale]

over a year later but. THE PROPHECY HAS BEEN FULFILLED

[tradingstorieswiththeleaves]

Happy birthday Dark Matter!

One year since this amazing album came out. I never get tired of listening to it. This is a very important album for the band and I am sure it will be more and more appreciated with time. Something's got to give ❤️.

[itspileofgoodthings]

had a very nice realization about peace, especially spiritual peace, the other day. (Been brewing for a while.) and it’s just: peace is for the non-peaceful.

[lemonycranberries]

there's a bunch of parallels to be made between wicked and mo dao zu shi, as many people have already pointed out (see: these reddit posts, these animatics). but i was thinking about how wangxian's roles in comparison to elphaba and glinda can be considered to reverse over time. i mostly see people comparing wwx to elphaba and lwj to glinda, and sure, there's a lot of comparisons to be made there, but try to consider another angle.

in the cloud recesses, when they're teenagers, lan wangji is a disciplined, hardworking, intelligent student with a lot of pressure put on him to honor his family and their reputation, beloved by his teachers but witout any friends around his age, except perhaps for his brother; much like elphaba. meanwhile, wei wuxian isn't exactly the most dedicated disciple, and breaks quite a few rules without caring about it, which doesn't exactly make his teachers love him, but at the same time, he's popular and loved by his colleagues (who mostly dislike lan wangji, either finding him a sort of teacher's pet or being afraid of him); in that sense, he's more like galinda (if we're looking through a queer galinda lens, we can also say both characters are very entrenched in comphet and very oblivious to their same-sex attraction, with galinda supposedly being a boy-crazy, girly girl and wei ying being very flirtatious towards women, and claiming to have been with many of them without even considering the most remote possibility that he could like men too).

but then, let's skip to both pairings in their adulthood. wei wuxian, that formerly popular, charming individual, is now the yiling patriarch, a previously very talented, advanced young man who's considered different from others in his society because of his methods, something that used to make people admire him and then became his downfall; he started to be hunted and blamed for all evil that ever happened, becoming the biggest public enemy in the cultivation world, and a legend of sorts, nearly a mythical figure, the represention of evil itself. at the same time, despite being warned by those who loved him, he didn't back down in doing what he thought was right (also defending a vulnerable and marginalized group that was being ostracized and blamed for doing evil things - the remaining wens - like the animals were), officially cutting all ties with the respected, traditional cultivation circles and running away to the burial mounds, very aware that this would make him be hated and turned into a villain. eventually, after losing people he loved, he started actually leaning into this evil version of him that was publicly known, comitting so called "evil" deeds while stricken by pain, and soon after, he died on hiw own, while the entire world celebrated his death and talked about how he deserved it because of how he'd done certain things, a lof of them not being true (note: both pieces of media begin this way, with the viewers/readers being introduced to the story with celebrations of the main character's death - and in both cases, said character wasn't actually - or permanently - dead). i don't even have to say how extremely similar to elphaba's story his story is in that sense (and you could still find more similarities, like both characters being morally gray or both characters being very attached to their siblings and going at extreme lenghts to protect them; i could go on). now let's look at lan wangji, who used to be that stubborn student disliked by many of his peers. in the current time, he has become hanguang-jun, a strong authority figure, respected by everyone in the cultivation world and widely considered an example of righteousness and Good. always very put together, always elegant, always where the chaos is; he's often resolving conflicts and is looked upon and admired as someone trustworthy and strongly virtuous. he was offered the chance to join wei wuxian in what he was doing at the burial mounds, years ago, but he declined, which led to him only being capable of helplessly watching from afar as the person who mattered the most to him grew to be more and more misunderstood by society at large, and consequentially, more and more hated - and persecuted. he was then forced to watch as the entire world celebrated the death of said person, never learning the truth about what had actually happened and who he actually was. does this remind you of anyone?

so basically, what i mean is that teen wei wuxian, a popular, likeable, enjoyer-of-life (or perhaps dancer-through-life) galinda, became a brilliant, but villanaized, ostracized and misunderstood wicked witch, like elphaba; while young lan wangji, a disciplined, introverted, hard-working elphaba, grew to be a respected and admired authority figure who was actually in deep suffering because of the way he lost the person he loved - not unlike our gal glinda, the good.

[madame-fear]

You have no idea how good it feels to see all the Lucerys girlies finally waking up...

It's always about Jace, Aegon and Aemond (which I get cause we love Jace 😌) but rarely Luke... and now finally out sweet boy is getting some appreciation...

We crave Lucerys x reader. We're needy. (I saw some people commenting on almost all your posts 🤣) some of us are starved and so happy about what you planned 🤤!

YESSSSS the feeling is mutual, pookie!! I feel super satisfied to see all the Luke girls expressing themselves and in need of more fics for our beloved 🤭 It’s so good to finally see all the Luke girlies rising up, since nearly all the fandom only focuses either on the Hightowers or on Jace! 😩

No worries,, I got you all covered—I have a rather LONG list of Lucerys requests/WIPs in my drafts, and I have some time to at least write a few drabbles for them. So hopefully I will be uploading them soon 😉

[ryescapades-archived]

g guys …,,.??:!; GU YSGUYS ….

a little rant in the tags bcs im Emotional™️ and so full of love rn

[pushing500]

Up for a moral quandary? Two men are stranded in a desert, trying to get to town. One man has a jug of water. If both men drink from the jug, neither will have the energy to get to town before they die. If one man keeps the jug for himself, he'll be able to make it to town, but leave the other to die.

What is the best course of action?

Wondering what Mechi or Kwahu would answer :)

Assuming the two men in this hypothetical are Mechi and Kwahu, the boys would probably have slightly different opinions. Mechi says if we go down, we go down together, while Kwahu is perhaps still very aware that he is not the original/not a "proper" person and that if Yamka gets anyone back, she deserves her "real" brother.

Of course, if anybody else is thrown into the scenario, it's Jones boys for themselves and hope that anyone else gets lost before they find their way to Sparks because they don't want more guests, dammit!!