#ah yes good ol tumblr

[boyhowdy5]

Reading up on the current Dream drama like a suburban mother listening to her kids explain the lore of the game they've been playing in the woods for a month

[cat-napsss]

Grace and Carrie, just some good ‘ol god-fearing gals being pals

(My instagram and some other socials is @ cat_napsss but I forgot to save a copy with my tumblr @)

So I changed the original quote to “save our souls” instead of “spare my soul” because I get the vibe Grace and Carrie wouldn’t view it as being “spared” by the darkness but rather “saved” by it, both being given their power back over the other kinds of darkness in their lives

(And yes it’s gay they’re both sexually repressed good little christian girls what did you expect?)

The headcanon in my mind is that Grace met Carrie at their church and slowly starts to catch on to the abuse that’s happening to her over time. The rest— *cough* timeline *cough* —is in the air

(I have no idea how the quality is gonna look but hopefully it doesn’t get too crunchy 😭)

edit: cannot believe I’m only just now realizing that the pentagram is on the wrong side 🤦‍♀️ ah beans.

[todayontumblr]

Friday April 21.

Yes, That Is Right—Blaze Other People's Posts.

Oh, what's this here box? Pandora? Who the heck's Pandora? Ahh, I'm sure she won't mind

...

Ah. Ok. It is now we understand, Pandora. Sorry about that. After taking a look in this here chest of yours, just yesterday, Thursday the 20th of April, it turns out that this was not perhaps the wisest move. Inside its splintering oak, we found instructions for Blazing other people's posts, and it appears we got a little carried away. We removed this guide from the ol' trunk and let it free to the good people of Tumblr and, well. It's all beginning to get a bit Hunger Games in here, and we suspect we only have ourselves to blame. But what's done is done as far as #tumblr blaze is concerned, so it is on us to make the best of it.

* vintage cartoon anxious gulp *

And with great power comes great responsibility. This is something that Tumblr understands profoundly, and we can rest certain that users will wield this newfound ability with that sagest, most timeless advice in mind. So if, for example, they were lout browsing in the marshes of the dashboard and were to stumble upon an image of a pug with the smiling mouth of a human, we could trust them to do what they know to be right—and stay away, for everyone's sakes.

This is it people x

[sordidmusings]

Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x amab!Reader

Art by ijessbest on Twitter (refusing new name still) I believe they also have a tumblr by the same name!

A/N: Sorry I took so long to post this and thank you for your patience! I had thought I put it up earlier but noticed that wasn't true while doing some organizing. The differences are pretty subtle but I hope they are meaningful for your immersion and help you feel seen! If there's something I can do better (I am cis fem so I'm sure there's much my experience has me missing about yours) please let me know! I'd like to help y'all get your escapism too 🤍

From the original a/n - "Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p"

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: masculine leaning amab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection

afab!Version

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

“I’m quaking.”

“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.

“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.

After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to spoil yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.

You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.

“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”

Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.

“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.

Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.

Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”

Silence.

You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.

“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.

“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.

“Clown trade?”

He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”

You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”

Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your aftershave. All was still for a few breaths too long.

“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.

You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.

Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.

The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful laughter burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling chuckles, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”

Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.

You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.

Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.

While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.

With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your gorgeous eyes and handsome smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-

You’d love him.

Fuck.

You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.

“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.

Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”

Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.

“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.

Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of amber in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and oud at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 

You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.

“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You flicked his forehead in warning against further sass.

“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”

The outburst was immediate.

“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”

Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.

The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 

When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”

You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is pretty.”

He ignored you. As expected.

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”

He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?

Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.

“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”

After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.

You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.

You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh. His eyes poured over your shirtless chest and the thin sleep pants moving around the shape of your legs. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you chuckled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.

“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.

Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”

Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at the skin on your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.

Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. The feeling of being rested on your bare chest sent his heart racing. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.

He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how it felt to be under your hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.

The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.

All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.

Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.

[luna-rainbow]

I liked the Russo bros until I heard an interview with them made about 4-5 years ago (just after Endgame I think) where they elaborated on why Bucky didn't get the shield.

It made me really mad how flippant they were about Bucky's "mind being damaged" and then started joking about him being crazy and dangerous. They even said at one point that he was "corrupted".

Just the amount of ableism was horrific. Mental health issues and brain damage do not arise from or make a person morally corrupt.

I get that Bucky would not have wanted the shield before the HYDRA programming was removed (which it had been by that point) but seriously? Also, why should having trauma or mental health issues disqualify someone from being Captain America?

Ah yes, the good ole ableism.

Much of the MCU is incredibly ableist. I think the modern world, despite all our efforts, still segregates disabled people from view. A lot of writers, especially if they come from comfortable upper/middle-class families and smooth-sailed through college, would never have had much interaction with a visibly disabled person as a fellow human.

Mental health is an invisible disability and still often seen as a weakness of the will. I think this is part of the disdain for Bucky and this weird push in TFATWS to write him into a Generic Dude. This is why Zemo says “there’s never been another Steve Rogers” because Bucky’s mind did break, and it broke because (the writers) see him as weak-willed and deficient, rather than because…withstanding 70 years of torture is something none of us can fathom.

I can’t find the post from a while ago (Tumblr being Tumblr) but someone wrote an essay about disabled characters in the MCU and the fact that disability is used as a narrative tool to signal a punishment for moral deficiency. And their (unnatural) regaining of their abilities as a nod to them recognising the error of their ways. The example they used was Rhodes, who was “punished” by becoming paraplegic then regaining his walking when he reconciled with the rest of the Avengers. (Civil War being what it was, I’m genuinely not sure that the writers felt Steve was the correct side, but anyhow)

But this theory is particularly true in how Bucky is written and what each generation of writers have said about him. The arm, once bearing the insignia of wings and now bearing the red star, was a visible symbol of what happens to his mind — a soldier’s failure, having his identity and loyalty ripped from him, and another new, deadlier identity transplanted against his will. But a failure nonetheless, because a real hero wouldn’t have fallen. And this is why in Civil War, the arm needed to be forcibly taken from him, because it was a mark of his identity as the Winter Soldier and of his crimes against a hero’s family. The arm is then given to him in Infinity War as an opportunity for atonement, to fight for the “greater good” (as if fighting against Nazis wasn’t right there in his history). And he is reminded in TFATWS it can be taken away at any time if he misbehaves, that no matter how hard he works that original flaw will always hang over him and any minor mistake needs to be punished to bring him back in line (a point reinforced by Sam’s constant jibing at his time as a prisoner).

And then people wonder why Bucky fans are pissed off about the gross ableism.

[fucksurass]

☆~MEET THE ARTIST~☆

Heyyyyy fellow Tumblr bloggers. My name is Ronnie but you can call me fucksurass. Not fuckasauras though... Many people read my username wrong or just taunt me with it. Pls get it right. Im fragile.

ஐ〰ฺ・:*:・✿ฺ ஐ〰ฺ・:*:・✿ฺ ஐ〰ฺ・:*:・✿ฺ ஐ〰ฺ・:*:・✿ฺ

Anyway, im a young(MINOR) black artist who first started showing my art to the internet people through tiktok. I like drawing for fun and post my art in hopes people like it. My posts consist of South Park, egthite(sp au(not mine) that I like), Azrielthedrawer, me an my wife, funny reblogs, ect.

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I have diagnosed anxiety and probably many other undiagnosed mental illnesses. I am not normal. I mean- Yes I am im so normal watch this

Does something normal

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Anyway. I dont mean any harm! Im just here to be silly and post my silly art and make silly friends!

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And art- I really like to draw. See look

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Anyway music is the soul so maybe if I put in my playlist people will know my soul and maybe theyll like me bc my soul is cool

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Ah yes cant forget the good ol DNI list

Dni real people if youre actually a real person then dont talk to me. I only talk to people who arent real

/jk I like people. Come be my friend

speaking on friends, heres a list of my tumblr buddies. If you wanna be my buddy too just let me know! If not then Ig thats okay... Heh... Guess I deserve i-

@azrielthedrawer @moon-swoons @sparkysunglasses @spookyteeth @rosebushstuff @rahneexd @haiihi @nottefierr @boobsl0v3er @kawaiibutters @th3r34l-k1ng0f-h3ll @spurkspaint @fennecfiree

Buddies!!

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I also have an au!! Two actually!

One is a wattpad story!

The other is not written its drawn! Its called DEAD? Park and its still heavily in the works but a couple parts are done in my old style! A new part is on its way so bear with me!!

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Idk what else to add here... I think... I think im done!

BYE

[the-kr8tor]

yesterday i downloaded tumblr on my phone and attempted to write a daily hobie hc BUT IT DIDNT SEND:( one point for computer i guess Daily Hobie HC! after this im going to watch more arcane and cry Despite all the times you've woken up to his late bed arrivals due to being Spider-Man or hyper fixating too hard on a gadget, it was now his turn to wake up, curious as to where you were. He could hear your frantic typing from the couch, where he last saw you. Hobie groaned as he stretched out his legs, tossing off the blanket and walking to find you. Upon seeing your hunched figure on the couch, unmoving from the position he saw you a good few hours ago, he willed his feet to move towards you, flopping onto the couch next to you. The feeling of yourself bouncing up due to Hobie faceplanting into the couch tore your red, sleep-deprived eyes away from the computer, looking at him fondly. He turned to look at you, pouting and silently begging you to come back to bed. As you tried to shrug him off, Hobie wrapped his arms around you, resting his head against your shoulder and slowly pulling you down with him. Seeing how stubborn you were, Hobie went to his last resort, peppering kisses all over your face as a distraction while he dragged you to bed. You couldn't help but let out a quiet giggle as you felt his lips leave featherlight kisses on your skin, leaving your computer 'un-looked' at for five seconds too long, because Hobie had already shut the screen and pushed it off your lap. Getting you slightly dazed, he scooped you up in his arms bridal-style, ignoring your giggly, sleep-deprived giggles as he brought you to the bedroom with a hum. Closing the door behind him with his foot, he drops you onto the bed, pinning you down and wrapping you up in the blanket, like a burrito. After practically rolling you against your will, you feel your body and mind turn into mush despite your protests that you were 'wide awake'. Hobie kept you slightly tangled in the sheets, leaving some blanket for himself to cover himself with, as well as cuddle you, pulling you closer with a dopey grin. As Hobie buries his face into the crook of your neck, you couldn't help but doze off not even five minutes later. -🐦‍⬛

Oh no!! It ate your ask :(

Daily Hobie HC ‼️‼️‼️

HHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA bring some tissues!

Oh how the turn tables!

This would be a regular occurrence in our house while I'm writing up a storm all in my shrimp like posture 🤣 (I have been scolded too many times for staying awake until 5 am 😞) I'll take those hundreds of smooches from Hobie tho ���

Lol I imagined him jumping over the couch, landing on it with a thud and face planting right on it while he slithers his sleepy self over to you 🥰🥴

Ah yes the ol burrito trick to get your resident writer to go to sleep! Now I wanna cuddle with him 😭😍 here I go yearning again 🥲

[halowritesthings]

“Tout est nul, putain,” Remy said while stomping his way inside. He shook the snow off his body like a wet dog, specifically because he knew it would annoy Scott when he eventually came inside and saw the partially melted snow on the hardwood. “I hate de cold.”

He shucked off the winter cap and gloves he borrowed, but before he could bend over to unlace his boots, a southern drawl emitted from the doorway, “So Ah’ve heard.”

Looking up, he saw Rogue leaning on the frame of the entrance to the common area of the mansion, a blanket bundled in her arms. His mood suddenly perked up significantly, “Well, good ol’ North must‘ve finally caught me. Why else would such a stunnin’ ange be here t’greet moi?”

Rogue rolled her eyes as she got off the frame to stand up straight, “Quit bein’ a drama queen, Swamp Rat. Everyone has had to shovel the walkways at some point.”

Remy pouted, leaning down so he could get back to stripping off the boots, “You say dat, yet why is tonight de first time I seen Specs do his fair share, neh? Gettin’ down an’ dirty too much a hassle for Fearless?”

“Ya know that’s just because ya always hightail it out of the room before the drawing of straws can begin,” Rogue said. “Ah think he’s already maxed out his shoveling duties for the season, but he joined ya tonight anyway, specifically to make sure you would do yer job for once.”

When Remy got both boots off, he looked up at Rogue with zero guilt in his eyes. His pout might have gotten bigger, actually, “So mean to Remy.”

He was quick to slip on his moccasin slippers that he was forced to abandon just an hour prior. If he wasn’t feeling so stiff, he would honestly be willing to bend over even further to place a kiss on the tips of each of them. Plus, he already got called dramatic once in this conversation; even though it was true, he would like to keep the factual observations to a minimum tonight.

As he stood back to his full height, he was suddenly assaulted, darkness enshrouding his vision and his movement becoming restricted. He struggled for a second before remembering what he was just looking at and held himself still. He was swiftly rewarded when a pair of gentle hands messed with the covering at his face and adjusted it so he was snuggly wrapped everywhere that didn’t impede his line of sight. 

Once he was able to see again, he was met with Rogue looking at him with that same fond exasperation he loved to bring out in her. “Don’t chu’ worry,” Rogue began, finalizing the details of her current attempts to encase Remy where he stood. “Jubilee went and made us a bunch’a different kinds of hot coco, and knowing yer daily sugar intake, you’ll be reawakened in no time.”

With a lopsided smile, he grabbed one of her hands, using his blanket-covered fingers to wrap excess blanket around her knuckles before placing a kiss to the top of the hand while looking her in the eyes. She was of course wearing one of her nighttime pair of gloves that she wore when they hung out after hours, but recently he had been making sure to add extra layers between them whenever he could to ease whatever leftover anxiety plagued her mind, “Mon sauveur, what would dis scoundrel do wit’out chu?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rogue said with another roll of her eyes. “Love ya too, ya greaseball.”

woe 🫴 halo x-men fic be upon ye shout out to the 4 people who unanimously voted "yes" to the poll on my main asking about whether or not i should post this WIP snippet to tumblr lol. i have zero idea as to when i can get this completed due to a.) the dreaded blockage of writers as per usual and B.) the dreaded schoolwork which is in a constant revolving state of "maybe i won't have too much work this weekend" and "holy shit i'm falling behind so hard i'm gonna die-" this snippet is rather contained tho so it can work as a standalone pretty well. maybe i just need to embrace shorter ficlets as my main form of writing. certainly would be a nice break from the "can't make a oneshot less than 6k words" train i've been riding since day one LMAO anyway feel free to ignore my yapping; i hope you like my first foray into this fandom!

[phlurrii]

I decided to give the ol series a re-read, but something struck me.

Over time, Meau’s nature was changed from Hardy to Docile…

So that means Meau is now supposed to be viewed as Docile now…

Ah, yes. That is a docile creature right there 🤣🤣🤣

This means either Meau is usually this gentle, meek creature but that nature got thrown out of the fucking window out of sheer unyielding parental rage (Which is TERRIFYING, albeit justified.)

OR

That Meau used to be a Hardy, Strong-willed creature but the trauma of their only child being taken and experimented on and their grandchild being a some twisted gene-spliced experiment, was just SO much for them to handle, that it fundamentally changed their personality forever. Grameau isn’t as hardy and strong-willed as she used to be, she’s more passive and mild now (and easily swayed by her children/grandchildren wanting to be spoiled), but can still get up to Mew Mischief and have fun with the little ones in their care

As I saw this ask and began to scroll, even tho all the images were blurred due to tumblrs ask settings, I immediately knew what each one was and slowly began to cackle progressively louder at your very good point XD

Meau’s original nature and characteristics were actually based on the event mew I got like a decade ago, that was before I decided to break open Pokémon Red’s crumbled cookie of a coding base and drag both her and Noe out of it. Natures didn’t exist till Gen 3 so it was actually impossible to reroll or get her correct nature without redoing the 6-10 hours process repeatedly till I somehow landed the exact combo I needed ;w;…

Short to say that was NOT happening XD I instead got VERY lucky with her nature/characteristic as it ended up being just as fitting as her previous ones! She is both a docile and hardy lil kitty, which again was super lucky given I wanted her to have a neutral nature stat wise! Her new characteristic I found to be super endearing and I just,, overall was happy with it!!!

Though you pose a REALLY good point and if I hand to go with a cannon reason as to why it was changed, I would agree on that first one. She is a docile lil thing most of the time, unless actively antagonized, she doesn’t much care; but when you mess with her only child? And torture that child?

“So you’ve chosen treason then.”

[fatestouch]

ah yes, good ol' tumblr. where pressing ctrl z erases everything you typed :)))))))

[gunsatthaphan]

hi!! this is a little random but i’ve been thinking about this one firstkhao video for weeks and i was wondering if you know where its from. it was right after the eclipse was announced and they went to support somebody’s movie and first was talking to fans saying “oh we’re going to sleep and watch the movie” because it was a theatre with reclining seats and he got flustered when he realized how that sounded and he was like NO we’ll be in our own RECLINING SEATS and sleeping SEPARATELY lol. you’re like one of the biggest firstkhao stan i follow on tumblr so i thought it was worth asking you. thanks in advance if you do know where it’s from! also…. hope you enjoyed episode 9 i love sandray sm it hurts 😭

hiii anon!!!

just did a little twitter search, not believing I would find an ancient video like that skjghd but is this what you mean? lol I actually remember that! it was at the Japanese Film Week in February 2022. ah yes. first's good ol' gay panic days lmao 😭

but yeah I'm still in the recovering process from episode 9 but at least I got my sandray reunion which is where I'm gonna stay for the next 6 days, in the blissful ignorance of what's still to come 🤡 🫡

xxx

[dwaynepride]

i remember admiring your blog from a far a year? ago. and then i went to university and left tumblr. the other day, i remembered your fic about gibbs, pride, and y/n in a cabin. but i couldn't remember for the life of me who wrote it. I FINALLY FOUND YOU AGAIN AND IM SO HAPPY AHAH. your writing>>

ah yes.....my magnum opus....

im glad u found it! i know i just kinda. gave up on this blog when my muse disappeared. but i like coming back and reading old stuff and still seeing people interact with my fics! makes me reminisce about the good ol days

enjoy ur filth.....

[raisin-shell]

Raph’s Journal Chapter 8:

The Lesson

Yeah, I’m back. Look I know what yer thinkin’… I’m doin’ a lot of bouncin’ around. Fact is it’s my journal so yeah I’m gonna jot down whatever tha fuck pops inta my head. This particular story just so happens ta take place in our younger years. Not quite as young as when our pops tried ta have “tha talk” with us. That went over like a turd in a punch bowl. This memory actually happened a couple years after, but before we had ever started patrollin’ tha city streets.

I once told a story to a young woman one time, I believe it was on a website called Tumblr. I was asked about tha most awkward moment I had as a youngster an I’m pretty sure it was tha circle jerkle myself an my brothers partook in upon findin’ our first porno mag that had been dumped into tha sewers. Needless ta say, ol fearless an Donnie had a discussion an once again without mine or Mikey’s approval, came ta tha conclusion that we all needed ta have our own talk. I found this hilarious considerin’ Donnie an I had already begun explorin’ each other sexually. An yet even though I wouldn’t let it show… I was also a bit nervous that he’d let our secret out. Let’s see what happens….

*slap*

Donnies baton directed everyone’s attention to tha two human naked forms he had projected upon tha blank wall of his lab as tha three of us sat. Leo of course was front an center. Fucks sake he had a damn note book. Mikey was also given a notebook but was busy doodlin’ a bunch of those old school “S” things that are fuckin’ gay. An I’m sittin there usin’ mine ta fan myself because I had become a little heated in this moment. All that aside… Donnie began his lesson.

“This is your basic human anatomy. Male and female. Naturally we aren’t exactly human but seeing as we have similar genitals and similar responses to sexual stimuli, this will have to do.”

He began by explainin’ tha male side first.

“The male brain is mostly responsive to visual stimulation. Which is why ah, we had our little incident a few moments ago. Receptors from the brain send signals to certain parts of our body and they react to that stimuli. Now then, when a male is sexually stimulated by a female, chemical reactions happen throughout the body. Heart rate increases as does blood flow and that blood flow is what causes an erection.”

Mikey raises his hand.

“What’s an erection?”

“It’s when yer dick gets hard Mikey”

I roll my eyes not meanin’ ta make eye contact with Donnie.

“Ahem. Yes. I suppose one term for it would be a “hard on” if you will. But this is why our bodies react in such a way. To prepare for sexual intercourse.”

Leo then raises his hand.

“But master splinter said we are not to experience something like this… intercourse I mean. So… our bodies will still react even though it’s forbidden?”

“Correct Leonardo. Splinters personal rules cannot stop the bodies natural responses. It’s like if I hit your knee cap, your leg will swing upward correct? Same difference. Being half human has given us loads of human like traits and this just so happens to be one of them. It’s natural for us to be attracted to the opposite sex. It’s ingrained in our human like brains. No amount of rules can change that.”

I raise my hand.

“Well… what if yer attracted to both?”

Ya could’ve heard a pin drop in that mother fucker I swear.

“I’m just askin’ as a hypothetical question… fer my own knowledge. We’re supposed ta be learnin’ right?”

Whew quick save.

“Absolutely Raph. When a male or female is attracted to either sex, it’s called being bisexual and there’s nothing wrong with that either. The body still responds in the same way. Now then, let’s move onto intercourse and why we ejaculate.”

Mikey raises his hands again as Leo jots down notes like a total nerd.

“What’s ejaculation?”

“It’s when ya blow yer load. Ya know that white slimy goop that shoots from yer dick an nearly has ya seeing stars? Tha world almost stops rotatin’ it feels so good? That.”

“Raph… would you like to teach the class or should I go on?”

Donnie crosses his arms with a cute smirk on his face.

“Naw. Yer doin’ great. Proceed by all means.”

I chuckle a bit, both of us knowin’ we know a lot more about this stuff than these two numbskulls.

“Okay then. The penis begins to tighten and harden in preparation for intercourse. Intercourse is a conjoining of two persons, mostly male an female.”

He taps the naked female diagram around her genital area.

“The female has a cavity called the vagina. Her sexual organs are located on the inside of her body. This cavity is where the penis goes when the female is receptive and ready.”

Leo raises his hand.

“What do you mean by ready?”

Jesus tap dancin’ Christ I’m dyin’ in my seat.

“What that means Leonardo is the females body also responds to sexual stimulation but not in the same way that males do. Some can be visual but mostly sensitive to touch, particularly in certain places like the neck, lower back, breast or nipples… sensative areas that send the same chemical reactions from her brain down to her genitalia. Women, while they too get engorged with blood also secrete a slick fluid in preparation for penetration from a penis. Is this making sense to the class thus far?”

Mikey pipes up.

“This is WAY different than the talk master splinter gave us. I’m digging it.”

“Yeah this is way more thorough.”

Leo adds still jotting shit down in his notebook.

“Okay then. Once the penis is inside the women’s vagina, mating has begun. This is done in so many different ways. I have another diagram showing different positions that this can be achieved.”

He flips to the diagram as Mikey begins to snicker an Leo tries ta fight back a smile from his face.

“Typically the male thrusts his hips into the female but as you can see here from certain angles the female can do the job for herself. Either way the stimulation of pulling back and fourth against the erect penis causes ejaculation to occur. This is how humans mate essentially, but also show each other affection or love or sometimes it’s just what they call a “hook up”. But generally speaking it’s designed to procreate. Any questions?”

Leo raises his hand.

“I’ve got a question. If the base meaning to all this is to procreate then why would same sex persons copulate?”

He turns back and looks at me which makes the butterflies in my stomach knot. God if he only knew how badly I wanted him. If he only knew.

“Well that is what separates humans from animals Leonardo. Actually it has been recorded that regular turtles have the same sexual partners and multiple partners as well. Dolphins too. So it’s not as uncommon as one might think.”

Donnies eyes flicked ta mine givin’ me a wink an I swear ta god I could feel tha heat risin’ from my chest.

“Well are there anymore questions? I figured this is a good stopping point. Our next lesson will be tomorrow, same time. We will look more at the genitals of both the male and female to get a better understanding of each part and how each works.”

He turned tha projector off and Mikey bolted to go play tha latest God Of War game he just downloaded. Leo finished scribbling his notes and excused himself. He an pops always had tea together at this time which left me an Donnie alone in the lab.

TCEST WARNING ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

I sat there glarin’ at him from my chair.

“I suppose ya think that was cute huh? Winkin’ at me in front of everyone?!”

I cross my arms in anger as he began ta approach me.

“No. But I think you are extremely cute when you pout the way you do.”

He straddles my lap, his lips softly landin’ on my neck which causes me ta loosen my arms an wrap them around him delicately.

“Why do ya always do this ta me?”

“Because you like it. In fact you enjoy it. Don’t act like you don’t.”

“I enjoyed yer lesson. I couldn’t have done that.”

“Well… if you enjoyed it so much why don’t we turn the projector back on. I have an idea.”

He slipped himself from me, a finger tracin’ tha hardness in my shorts as he walked over ta tha projector, flippin’ it back on. On his way he had relieved his shoulders from his suspenders lettin’ his trousers hang freely from his hips which I always liked. I followed him, wonderin’ what he had in mind when suddenly tha trousers fell ta his ankles an he began ta stroke that beautiful long cock of his. He straddled tha projector, his cock and tight balls on full display on tha wall as he curled his finger for me ta come closer.

I was on him like white on rice. My hands spreading his tight ass cheeks open only ta find my prize puckered an waitin’ fer me. I slipped my tongue between my lips, lappin’ his tiny hole as my hand wrapped around his shaft and began ta pump. His high pitched voice turned into deep breathy moans. Needy moans. He was always so hot fer me. Always so ready. Both sets of our eyes were on tha wall watchin’ our every move as I slipped a finger into his tight little asshole causing him ta arch his ass up fer me and a deep churr ta rumble from him. When I tell ya donnie has one hell of a churr it’s no small exaggeration.

I couldn’t wait any longer. My cock was throbbin’ fer him. I let my member free, tuckin’ it up against his and trustin’ myself against his own hardness, both our cocks in my massive hand. It was a sight ta see on tha “big screen” ta say tha least.

“R… Raph. Please.”

“Please what?”

I leaned over him readyin’ myself fer entry. I knew exactly what he wanted. But I wanted ta hear him say it.

“I want to feel you inside me. I want to watch you stretch me open. Fuck me. Please?”

I lined my massive head up with his spread open hole, his tail curled upward tellin’ me he was more than ready fer a good fuckin’. My free hand arched his neck ta tha side as my teeth clamped down, other hand still pumpin’ him steady and slow as I began ta sink my cock deep inside his rectum.

“Yes daddy. Mmmffff fuck!”

I loved it when he called me daddy, only encouraging me ta thrust forward as high pitched moans began ta ring from his throat. Tha image on tha wall matched perfectly. Two sets of cocks, both deep shades of green, my massive floppin’ sack slappin’ against his two perfectly round tight orbs. And tha wetness. God this mother fucker knew how ta gloss my cock. I thrusted harder an harder, my hand matchin’ tha pace of each stroke as did his pantin’ lettin’ me know he was close. His cock began ta twitch within my hand, another deep churr rippin’ from his chest as rope after rope of his cum sprayed all over tha projector.

I quickened my pace even more, thighs slappin’ his violently as I tore my bite from his neck and another deep churr tore through my entire body. I pumped my seed deep inside his warm tight canal…. Deep. We both relaxed in that position fer only god knows how long both pantin’ an laughin until Donnie was ready ta relieve himself. I slid from inside him, both of us with this shit eatin’ satisfied grin on our faces as we re clothed ourselves.

“Ya know… it probably would have just been easier ta show them how it’s done.”

I chuckle, knowin’ I’m just teasin’.

“Hmmmm you’re right. I might just use you as a sit in when we get to the part about blowjobs then.”

So that’s what happened. Never a dull moment in these sewers an he was bein’ dead ass serious. But that’s another story fer another day.

@turtle-babe83 @hummerhouse @tmntspidergirl @fyreball66 @imthegreenfairy88

I only tagged those I know that love this story and don’t mind tcest.

[tomatoluvr69]

Sorry you’re experiencing sad events:(

Ah thank you, it is quite alright…I am good at grief, it’s familiar to me…the rest of this got slightly lengthy so I’m putting it beneath a cut because obviously I have no idea who reading this might not care to be reminded of loss.

I’m not lucky of course to have gone through a significant loss during adolescence…but I am very lucky that I took from that experience the epiphany that to begin to heal, you must feel it fully and let it ravage you as much as physically possible…while maintaining as much of a standard of care for yourself as possible. Maybe not “you” so much as me— that’s what I’ve found helps me. I think a lot about Victorian mourning customs, or the practice of sitting shivah, etc. (I know there are more worldwide, these are just the ones I’m most familiar with due to cultural proximity); and how much a period of battening down the hatches and hunkering down and giving yourself up as a tide of feelings beyond your control comes in to wash over you can/should be engrained within both the structures of society and within the way we think about our own emotional trajectories surrounding loss. I live with someone in death care, at an eco-burial cemetery, and something that has resonated with me from him & from other friends who have worked there is that the difference in closure journeys between people who go through a traditional American funerary process (i.e. taboo, compartmentalized, jarring…I have a lot of thoughts about funerals in this culture and the way they injure the living but that’s a long ol thang and I don’t have it in me right now) versus the families and close ones of the decedents at the green sanctuary who are getting fucking down and dirty with the process— they are digging the grave with him, they are picking out the headstones, they are watching their loved ones lowered manually in nothing but a shroud (and sometimes some garments inside it), they are picking up a shovel and placing the earth back on top, they are creating wreaths out of pine boughs and wildflowers six foot in diameter above the mound…these are the ones who come back to the sanctuary months later and speak about how being involved with their grief allowed…something to occur. All of this is secondhand for me, my friends **** and *** could say this so much better but I’m not going to tell them about tumblr lmfao.

This has gotten away from me. Point is that I have accepted long ago the need for grief, (and the concept of grief as the natural continuation of love) and I can look it square in the eye and face it head on. Does it still fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucking suck?? Yes. Is it easier for me if I transition intentionally into a languid state like a brumating lizard…also yes…which is where I’m at right now.

So I am doing alright (all things considered that is) & just must force myself at gunpoint to give myself extreme grace and allow for levels of rest and behaviors that I would not ordinarily indulge in routinely…I’m coming out of the worst of the shock & able to go about some of my normal activities. And also in this particular case I’d known it was coming for a long time, it just happened months earlier than expected, which is a whole nother feeling as well… Mostly I’m just listening to a lot of familiar and beloved comfort music, meal prepping big batches of things when I’ve got some energy so I can just eat from them when I’m feeling really rough, and pouring myself into garden prep which was the most beautiful and profound balm for me when I experienced the last death of a loved one in spring of 2020. This won’t be as difficult, I won’t get into specifics…but I anticipate a lot of garden time as like…stopgap therapy again. Anyways this sort of turned into a diary entry and I’ve done enough oversharing on my blog for the day…thanks for the kind wishes. I will be okay, but part and parcel with that for me is accepting that I won’t be okay for a while and just changing my expectations and standards for myself and my lifestyle into realistic ones, and also just straight up letting myself lie down feeling bad with generous frequency so it can have time to build and then dissipate naturally like it must if i would like to ever move on. If I feel it, then I can process it. It’s in trying to ignore it and shove it aside without confronting the truth of loss and change that the grief gets stuck and begins to morph and malinger into deep spiraling harm, in my incredibly limited (I’m super young and never lost a parent/sibling/partner/child) experience

[thatonelightyear]

for @trailquarry are you happy now >:(

good ol' seb XD memes galore :D

some art stuff that pops up occasionally but like i normally go and look at it cos its cool-

ah yes the classic tumblr funny screenshot. no comment on this- i dont know who elle is but ah well

potc meme lesgo- this is the kind that just makes me do a weird exasperated exhale stuck between 'this is lame' and 'this is kinda funny' from my nose-

[wyrdstonethenovel]

13. The Ripple

AN: Wyrdstone is a fantasy series updating every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday here on Tumblr. Wyrdstone is a good ol' fashioned rivals fighting for the throne TM. With magic. And gods. And oaths. And stakes. And gayz. Did I mention the gayz? Enjoy:

XIII. THE RIPPLE 

The Argenti soaked her bare feet in a tide pool as dawn reflected off the Semperimar. The sea was steady as the tide moved calmly ashore. It was beautiful. It was peace. Her fingers brushed over the slimy texture of a sea star. Admrilia ran the back of her hand along its calcified skin. 

“This island stirs thoughts long dormant.” 

Admrilia abruptly stood. “Emperor.” She kissed his knuckles quickly. 

The Conqueror eased himself down to the sand. He had changed from the evening previously and was wearing a light burgundy tunic. “You did not return to the Pontus last night.” No, she hadn’t. The stench of smoke still clung to her hair and nails. The Conqueror looked over, and she did her best not to flinch. “What hangs over you?”

Admrilia selected her words carefully. “Your demonstration caused reflection, sir.”

He patted the shore and Admrilia sat back down. “You question me killing him?”

“No!” He cheeks heated. Admrilia bowed her head. “He was a traitor to our nation. I do not question your choice, nor the matter in which you ended it.” She paused, unable to get the image of Prodomni clawing at his throat as his windpipe was crushed out of her mind. “I’m unsure as to why you burned his body. Without connection to the wyrd, he would have no chance for the Skytops. Was it to insult him?”

“Ah.” Atesh’s thin lips twisted into an unfamiliar expression. “That filth does not deserve to rest in this holy place. A body is a vessel, Argenti.”

Admrilia ran her tongue along her teeth, unsure what to say. 

The Conqueror continued. “The wyrd is a spider’s web, connecting the entire continent. When you are a wyrdling, as a child of the gods you can access some of these threads.” He grew quiet for a moment as Admrilia’s fingers trailed along the volcanic surface of the tide pool. “Your wyrd is tied to the Semperimar. I was skeptical of your connection to the Stormlord’s dominance given your mother.” 

Given you’re half Ker. 

Admrilia may have shared the Conqueror’s dark eyes, but that was the resemblance abruptly ended. Admrilia had the course, curly hair of her mother, the stocky build of her father, and skin several shades darker than most Ashenians. Asho looked more like the Conqueror, more Ashenian, than she could ever dream. 

“I hope to put that skepticism to rest, Emperor.” Admrilia inclined her head in deference. “By the end of the Triumph I pray to have proven my aptitude as your successor.” 

Her ambition was met with an unimpressed huff. The Conqueror was best as cutting people down by saying nothing at all. “Argenti, I have been blessed with many offspring, but few have taken root.” 

The comment took her by complete surprise. THe Conqueror never discussed his other children, her aunts and uncles and older cousins. All had perished in one way or another in service of the Empire. Her father Hortus, the youngest of the Conqueror’s seven children, was the only one left alive. 

The Conqueror reached beneath his tunic and withdrew the wyrdstone. He turned the star over slowly in his palms. “What I am about to tell you Argenti is only because I have seen firsthand your connection to the Semperimar. There is more our family can do than cast and cleave the wyrd of men.” 

“We can call upon the Semperimar.” Admrilia guessed. 

The Conqueror nodded. “Yes. But I advise you not to test the mercy of our god. This feat cannot be achieved without the presence of the wyrdstone— lest your drain your own lifeblood and perish.” 

Admrilia was struck with the sudden memory of her father bursting through the doors of their villa. Admrilia had been sitting on the floor with her tutor as her father ran to her mother panicked. “Marcus is dead.” Six-year old Admrilia had cried unconsolably. Her uncle had swung her over his shoulders on the beach the day before while Asho had eagerly awaited his turn. Sitting beside the tide pool, Admrilia realized she never learned how her uncle had died. Her eyes slid to the ethereal star, her gut clenching with dark certainty. 

“There is no greater power than summoning storms.”

“Or stopping them.” She whispered. 

“Yes.” The Conqueror said. “I saved the Pontus by casting my wyrd to the Semperimar. Instead of me cleaving another mortal, like I did with Prodomni last night, the Stormlord latched onto my own wyrd and fed. This is why it is so deadly, Argenti. To call forth the power of the Stormlord you must be prepared to drown.” 

The Conqueror’s dark eyes assessed her. “Soak your feet in the water.” Admrilia did so. He slid over he wyrdstone. Admrilia accepted it gently, her fingers closing around the cold star. Numbness quickly enveloped her fingers and spidered up her arm towards her chest. She clenched her teeth. 

Admrilia strained to hear the Conqueror’s instructions as her body shook. “Feel for your wyrd beneath your sternum, between your heart and lungs. There is the beat of our godhood Argenti. Feel for that beat. Have you found it? Focus on it, hold it steady. Now, reach for the Semperimar.” Admrilia furrowed her brow, not sure exactly how she was supposed to accomplish that. “It is within you. The Semperimar is the salt and sea of your veins. Let it call you home.”

Admrilia let out a choked breath. She felt her focus shift from her chest to her toes in the tide pool and the water around her ankles. It was as if her consciousness was folding inward on itself until she was the current and undercurrent all at once. 

“Release yourself to the Stormlord.” 

She inhaled—

Wyrdling. 

Admrilia exhaled. Water, lazy and calm slid up along her calf trailing to her kneecap. Adrmilia’s eyes flashed open, at once she was back within herself. She was sitting on a beach, the sharp rock digging into her hamstrings, her toes burrowed int the volcanic sand. Admrilia abruptly dropped the wyrdstone. Her stomach lurched and she bowled over.  She vomited the remaining contents of her stomach. The Conqueror reached into the tide pool and retrieved the wyrdstone. Admrilia wiped the black bile from her mouth and dared to look at the Conqueror’s godlike eyes. They glinted.