#also tried to give them each features that could be linked back to one of their brothers

[crownedcrowrow]

I put the boys names into a pokemon generator and picked the ones that looked like turtles. Then took elemets and colors to design the turtles because I thought it would be fun, and it was!!

[olderthannetfic]

hi, as someone who is tragically gen Z and only ever read AO3, can I ask: what was so great about LiveJournal? Like, I know that there were fics posted there (and I've even read about the "purge", so I get why it isn't used anymore) and that it was sort of a forum-type thing. But what I don't understand, wouldn't Tumblr fill in the latter function? How was that site any different? I see a lot of people reminiscing about it and I'm confused

--

A big factor in LJ's greatness is timing and nostalgia.

It was genuinely great, but it wasn't quite as great as all of the Lo, shall the Golden Age ne'er come again? posts suggest.

LJ arrived at a pivotal time in the development of the internet both in terms of technical stuff and how many people had access. Many fans who are now in their thirties to fifties first discovered fandom through LJ and many were at a time in their lives when they were feeling energetic and up to making lots of new friends—and to figuring out how to make a site work for them.

I got on LJ in 2002 when it required invites. Fandom arrived in droves in 2003, first via coordinated campaigns to get invites to key people and then when LJ opened up free account creation to everyone. Back then, LJ's features sucked. It was impossible to search properly, among other things. At its height (2005-7, let's say), there was a reasonable site search, and fans had developed all sorts of community resources for finding each other.

People often remember this phase but not the early days of suckitude.

This development parallels how Tumblr used to not have that private chat feature and how a lot of fuckyeah[whatever] type tumblrs have helped curate the site and make it much more usable for fans. Fandom draining away from LJ after strikethrough also parallels people draining away from Tumblr after the purge.

There are people who talk about Tumblr the way my cohort talks about LJ...

And to the shock of no one, they are people who came of age on Tumblr, who found fandom via Tumblr, who were on Tumblr during pivotal times in their lives and ones when they had energy to make friends and figure out how a site worked.

Those same Tumblrites are now making all the same geriatric-sounding posts we LJers do about how other sites lack the required features to be good for fandom while missing that 90% of tumblr's "features" at its height (2012-2016, let's say) were actually fan-created and were basically the same as any fandom newsletter or links page or all the versions of this kind of personal curation stretching back to long before the internet existed.

What life phase you hit a site at matters.

--

With all of that said, no, LJ was not a forum. It was a blogging site with threaded comments.

The key point to understand is that conversation was always happening in a specific person's space. Unlike on a true forum, people were in the comments on a particular post in a journal owned by another fan. (On a forum, there's the first post in a thread, but it's still more of a communal space with less of a hierarchy.)

Overall, the LJ format can have a feeling a bit like you're over at someone's house for tea. There's more of a sense of intimacy and also behaving yourself in front of community members.

Tumblr being obscure and impossible to find anything in does give it some of the same vibe relative to Twitter, but it's still part of modern social media that tries to shove every rando into the face of every other rando.

But it wasn't just vibes: LJ also had robust privacy features where you could lock a post to this or that group of friends. You could moderate your comments section properly. Tumblr has far fewer controls to force people to behave or leave on a technical level.

--

The biggest thing many people miss about LJ is the threaded comments. At least by late LJ and on Dreamwidth, you can expand and collapse threads, making it far easier to deal with a massive comments section. But more than that, things are properly threaded with multiple levels of hierarchy that are all easily visible in the same place.

On Tumblr, it used to be extremely difficult to find all of the actual commentary on a post. Nowadays, it's far easier, but you still have to scroll chronologically, and multiple versions of a post with a long chain of commentary may be much more divorced from each other than what would happen in a LJ comments section.

--

But could we use Tumblr pretty much how we used LJ?

We could.

I do.

--

The key things that people tend to miss about LJ, aside from the younger and more excited version of themselves or the friends they've lost since then, are:

Heavily text-based

It may sound odd on the modern internet, but there are a lot of people whose brains don't like or handle an image-heavy site well. They were everywhere in SF book fandom. They were everywhere on the early internet. Today, they're hanging out on Dreamwidth and still going to their SF cons. They're usually not on Tumblr.

You could follow the discussion

Threaded comments help, but a lot of it is about having some place you can check for updates. It wasn't actually that easy to follow big LJ discussions unless you were subscribed to comments and reading along as things were happening instead of coming along after the entire mass of comments had been left.

The tone of the discussion is intellectual and one's enemies are "idiots", not "problematic"

All this requires is a penchant for longwindedness and an itchy blocking finger to remove anyone slinging ad hominems from the comments section.

On tumblr, it's as simple as conversations happening in the replies on a popular account and that person not tolerating suibaiting and threats.

(And make no mistake, a lot of LJ discussion was in the comments on popular accounts, not spread equally between everyone's.)

It does require that multiple people like that tone and want to engage in that way, but lots of people do want to.

--

These days, I interact with tumblr by checking my askbox and reading my activity page. The vast, vast majority of my posts are ones where I'm the OP, so if I block someone, they're booted from the discussion entirely.

For me... yeah, Tumblr functions almost exactly like LJ.

Also like LJ, while I'm hosting the conversation, if you hang around, you'll see the same people again and again in the comments. They may or may not also host that kind of conversation in their space, and there's a larger pool of lurkers who have some notion of which people count as regulars. Other people are watching from the shadows, enjoying or deriding the takes of the usual crowd.

People presumably do like reading my lengthy commentary or they wouldn't be here, but my tumblr wouldn't be popular like this without a healthy pool of other people who chime in regularly. It's not just that there are more people: it's that you see the same people over time. There's a bit more sense of place and community than on some parts of the internet.

--

So, in my opinion, the failure to just recreate LJ fandom on Tumblr was a skill issue.

Threaded comments were great, but LJ culture came from mailing lists, and mailing lists had the same issue as tumblr with the diverging threads.

We solved that back then by clipping out only the parts we wanted to respond to (you'd write "snip" around the quotation to show it was incomplete). We solved the smaller LJ issue by linking to other posts we were referencing and doing discussion link roundups. We solve it on tumblr by, again, linking to what we're talking about and even quoting multiple reblog chains in our own reblog of just one chain.

--

Tumblr's technical features and even general crap-ness aren't really the problem. 90s and early 00s sites regularly went down for periods of time unthinkable today.

The missing piece is people.

When one is in an active fandom with others who curate or with friends who let one know what's up, a site with imperfect features is easy to figure out and retrofit for fandom's needs. When one already feels out of touch and is between fannish passions—or at least fannish passions anyone else cares about—seeing the potential in a new site is hard.

--

Threaded comments are different and better.

LJ's built-in way to see everyone's blog in your own style was better. The automatic timestamps and the ease of seeing a paginated archive of an entire blog was better than tumblr's endless scroll and lack of clear date labeling. But some of that can be fixed with xkit or knowing your way around tumblr well.

A lot of it is nostalgia for the lj era and a refusal to take the time to figure out how to use tumblr in an oldschool internet way.

--

So by all means, people, weigh in about what made LJ great or how the culture felt at the time...

But if I see one more god damn response going "You can't have a conversation on tumblr!" in reply to my tumblr, which contains nothing but conversation, I am coming for you.

[tinycozycomfort]

made by hand

pairing: contractor!joel miller x housewife f!reader

day five of @pascalisbaby and i's joeltober: bondage -> read her day five here

summary: He has nothing to offer, after all; no love letter, no borrowed jacket, no wedding ring. This is all he has to show his devotion, to seal his promise—a fist full of glossy blue and the willingness to unfurl his body and scoop out his insides just to allow you a place to lay. All he can give you is himself.

warnings/tags: no outbreak, bondage, unprotected piv, joel's pov, age gap (joel is 40s, reader is not), yearning, dom/sub dynamics, joel is mushy, fixation, pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc), infidelity (reader is married)

word count: 1.5k

rating: explicit! 18+ only, mdni

a/n: in the same universe as this one-shot but set far enough after to be readable w/out it!

main masterlist

Joel doesn’t know what he did to be able to have you like this—to be able to steal this time from you—when you have so much else.

Even worse, you’re a dream. Soft and gorgeous and strung up for him, belly flush to the mattress with your wrists laid over the knobs of your spine, gathered in a twist of baby blue. 

He sits against the backs of your thighs, his own bracketing the swell of your hips, cock bobbing in a sticky pool over the smooth surface of your inner leg. You suck in a breath and punch out a whine each time you can feel the firmness of him, grazing over every slice of skin except where he knows you want him most. 

He peers down, runs a hand across the link of your wrists, smiling when he sees the way you’ve tucked two fingers into the hollow of your palm—holding your own hand—like you have to discipline yourself one extra degree.

After taking his mouth and his fingers for as long as he’d pleased without too much push-back, your efforts don’t go unnoticed, “Go on and ask me what you want to ask me, sweetheart. Think you’ve earned that much.” 

“Can you touch me?” He can see you tug against where you’re bonded, an extension of your plea.

Joel thinks it’s a sad thing, the made-by-hand contraption he’s used to restrain you—a wide loop of tall ribbon sewn through the center to leave a pair of loose cuffs. He’d originally crafted it because he wanted to give you something pretty—a gift that wouldn’t cause concern or raise any unwanted attention, perfectly mundane when stowed in the safety of your sock drawer. It was the first for-you-from-him that went beyond his body, something he selfishly hoped could also serve as a memento should he ever become just the past.

It took him one weekend to make and two months to bring to you, driving up that long stretch of unfinished pavement and pulling it out of his pocket, red-cheeked and anxious. The seams are jagged where he spent hours sealing them shut, barreling over each other in a weave to keep the integrity, the deep color of the thread more than a few shades off—steel against pastel. He had tried to hide the imperfections, smooth side up in his hand as he muttered some lame preamble about something nicer than using the underwear, sometimes. He remembers the face you made at him when you unwound his hold, no huff of laughter at his break in character like he thought, telling him you loved it. 

It’s the only thing you use now.

“‘M already all over you; already put so much of me on you, in you. What do you mean, baby? Be more specific.” 

“I need you—need it inside.”

He tugs on the center strip—the binding—rolling a finger over the lip to tighten the slack that allows the accessory to be slip-on. That feature, other than making the contraption reusable, alleviated the issue of markings; his stomach sinks when he’s reminded evidence is even a factor.

He bends down, initially careful to keep his cock at surface level when he hovers over you, the bristle of his beard behind your ear making him sigh, that spark of possessiveness bringing something hungrier, “Say it again.”

“Can you please put–”

“Don’t be smart. You know what I want to hear; say it again.”

Tipping forward on his knees, he lets the length of him run down the crest of your ass, passing through where he can feel your heartbeat, shining folds of flesh that beg to be parted—ever the fool who can’t deny you much for long.

“I need you.” 

His chest constricts, heart dimpling underneath where you’re always holding it in your clutch; just the weight of your desire for him is enough to pull his body down through the ground, to the other side of the earth. He needs you, too, so desperately. Naively, in moments like this, with declarations like that, he sees success in all of this—sees keeping you.

Joel leans back, thumb sliding against the stripe of wet at your cunt, peeling back the seam to get a better look at the hole he wants so horribly to fill. His cock aches, heavy and hot and ready to take. 

He wishes he could savor it—tries to every time—but he never knows how long this will last. How long it will be before you attend the couples counseling sessions your husband asks of you. How long before you decide that a house and kids and the life he can’t provide for you might actually be enough. How long it’ll be before you just tire of him. So he’s greedy, takes everything you feed him straight to the stomach; he doesn’t have the patience to chew, in fear of not being able to finish. 

He has nothing to offer, after all; no love letter, no borrowed jacket, no wedding ring. This is all he has to show his devotion, to seal his promise—a fist full of glossy blue and the willingness to unfurl his body and scoop out his insides just to allow you a place to lay. All he can give you is himself. 

And he does—uses that exploring hand to guide the head of his cock to the slip of warmth you so meanly demand him to enter, so sweetly beg him to stay in.

“Again.”

He rolls his other wrist to gather up more of that silk, dragging the mess of limbs higher up your back, both for leverage and to remind you he’s strong—worth that, too.

When he slides himself in, he can feel the squeeze run through to the very tips of his toes, the points of his ears—boiling, syrupy heat that forces his body to lock up, terrified to fall over and take his last breath as a result.

“I’ll give you as much of this cock as you want, honey. Just want to hear a few little words.”

He pushes in firmly despite his threats, and so easily does he meet the end of you, apex of your womb perfectly made to receive him, like you’d been fitted for each other. He pants as silently as he can, setting aside his pleasure in favor of yours, not even to be distracted by his own voice. 

Joel forces as much of his weight as you can handle on the bundle at your back, swinging into you with the power of everything he’s too afraid to confess. He can fuck that reassurance into you, instead—make up for his inability to be confident in those more tender moments with the role he takes in this swirl of lust. 

He can tell by the way you constrict around him that you’re close, the squelch of where you meet heightening every time he moves in to the hilt.

“I’m gonna come, Joel. Fuck.”

“Don’t like askin’ twice. C’mon, focus.”

He bows again, bracing his legs so he can wedge his right arm through the slot at your hip, elbow flat to the bed as he reaches down, in. Your clit is smeared in your slick, running down from where he’s giving you everything, and thinks maybe you understand what he’s trying to tell you without words. He pushes as best he can against the bead, fingers working rhythmically to bring you there, knowing he won’t be able to take much more.

You’re crying now, it seems, from the broken shape your words take as they fall out, “I-I, Joel. I need you. Please. I love you.”

He can’t handle that, the pulse of his orgasm almost immediate, the fierce curl of your cunt around him no help. You whine under him, and if it weren’t for the risk of crushing you, he’d take his mouth to yours.

He fucks you until he can’t, until he expresses his response to exhaustion. He’s heaving by the end, forehead to your shoulder where it’s glued down with sweat. 

It takes him much longer now to come down, to shimmy out from over your body, to release and turn and fold you into his lap. 

Cruelly, he keeps the silk in his palm, thinking he can force another memory into it by making it bear witness to all of this; another knot in your ‘relationship’—as close as this will ever come to being that, anyway. 

Joel breathes at the crown of your skull, hair tickling his lips when he finally decides to break the silence, “Do you really?” And before it has the chance to be taken away from him, “I love you, too.”

[spicycinnabun]

another ficlet from the same verse as i’m sorry, christofern 🪴

~

Eddie unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. He couldn’t breathe. The waiter was sneering down at him—at his piercings, tattoos, fingernails blackened with polish and chipping. He didn’t belong at this fine establishment, and it was noticeable to everyone.

The piano man was going to town playing a Beethoven Sonata near their table, and Eddie was this close to shoving him off the bench and showing him how to play some real fucking music.

But Steve was also sitting across from him, looking suave with his hair combed back like an old Hollywood movie star. He was beaming at Eddie, and Eddie was helpless to it.

Even if the menu was giving him a goddamn heart attack, and he was trying not to keel over behind it as Steve ordered the lobster bisque—to start.

Eddie ordered the garden salad.

Steve gave him a weird look. “You sure that's what you want? I thought you didn't like salad.”

“I’m sure,” Eddie said. The salad wouldn't demolish his wallet like any of the things that actually sounded good. “I’m turning over a new leaf. Eating healthier.”

“Uh-huh. You’re already as skinny as a string bean. I don't think you need to eat healthier. You probably need to eat more."

“No can do. I’ve become a slut for vegetables.” Eddie grinned. It was maniacal. “Can't resist a big, juicy cucumber in my mouth.”

The waiter left, looking deeply disturbed, and Steve kicked him under the table, blushing. “Eddie! Jesus.”

“What? Can't a man freely express his joy for deepthroating gourds?”

Steve choked on his water, putting the glass down hastily as he coughed. “You’re such a…” He didn't finish that sentence, but Eddie could fill in the blank.

💚🌱🌿💚

Their first course came, and Eddie pretended to like his salad.

“Yeah, you really look like you're into that,” Steve said, stirring his soup.

Eddie swallowed hard. “It’s absolutely succulent, Steven, thank you.”

He absolutely hated it. The slimy vinaigrette, too.

“Oh, man. Look at that string of pearls,” Steve said, letting it go as he pointed over Eddie’s shoulder. “I’d like one of those.”

Usually, Eddie was the one lacking manners. “Kinda rude to point at people, baby.”

Also, pearls? Eddie was going to be in the red right after this dinner. He hoped Steve wasn’t expecting those any time soon.

Steve laughed, dropping his hand on the table. “No, I’m not. Look.”

Eddie turned in his chair, then groaned in realization when he saw what was hanging from the ceiling.

Steve wasn’t pointing at some woman wearing a pearl necklace. He was geeking out over a fucking plant. Even in public, he was a devoted plant daddy.

“We can get you one of those,” Eddie told him. Steve wanted a pearl plant? Done.

Steve leaned back in his seat, assessing him with his warm brown gaze. Eddie tried not to squirm. “What?”

“You don't like it here.”

Eddie balked. “I like it fine—” he started, then deflated a little under Steve’s skeptical eyebrow quirk. “Okay, I don't like it here. But you do, right?”

“It actually kinda reminds me of my parents.” Steve’s nose wrinkled. “I just wanted to have a good time with you and treat you to something special, but it backfired on me.”

Oh. Hell.

“Hey, it didn't backfire, sweetheart,” Eddie told him, voice low. His hand twitched. He wanted to reach across the table for Steve’s but knew he couldn’t—especially not here. Here, they were no more than friends.

“You wanna ditch and go get a pizza?” Steve asked, nails scratching along the crisp white tablecloth like he was thinking the same thing. “We can catch the next creature feature at the drive-in. Eat on the hood of my car?”

Eddie sighed, feeling his entire self relax. “Oh fuck yes, please. Let’s go.”

They grinned at each other and got up, slinging on their coats. They paid for their half-eaten meals. Neither of them tipped the snooty waiter.

Steve caught his hand in the parking lot as they walked to his car. It was risky, but the walk was less than a minute. They linked fingers.

[pascaloverx]

NO LIGHT

SUMMARY: Your life is simple. You are a pastry chef who has just opened a bakery near your home. A new life, being a new person. But when James Barnes shows up at your bakery injured, asking you to offer him shelter, your life takes a sudden turn.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this fanfiction are not my creation and all belong to the Marvel universe. This story will feature scenes of violence, brief intense intimate moments, and inappropriate language. To the readers, I wish you a good read and ask that you engage with the fanfiction if you like it. Do not interact with this fanfiction if you are underage. Enjoy reading.

AO3 LINK ONE

PREVIEW

It's been two months since a handsome stranger started showing up at your bakery to buy an espresso and two loaves of bread. Nothing more, nothing less. You've never told anyone, but since his first order, you've been practicing new types of bread dough for him to try. He always comes in sweaty, and you believe it's from a run, but he's always so kind and always leaves a good tip. Unfortunately, every time you try to start a conversation with him, he disappears.

"Hello, is anyone there?" You hear a male voice coming from the entrance of the bakery. It must be the handsome stranger whose name remains a mystery. In his cup of coffee, at least, he asks for the name Barnes to be written on his order.

"Just a second…" You speak loudly so the person at the bakery entrance can hear. Unfortunately, you just put the bread in the oven, which means you're probably covered in flour. Not to mention, the Barnes guy has never shown up this early.

"Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to know if you have your famous bread and coffee. I can't start my day without stopping by here." Finally, you make it to the entrance of the bakery. It's him, Barnes with captivating blue eyes and a charming smile.

"It's no bother at all, but unfortunately, I just put the bread in the oven. But I can prepare the coffee right now. I also made a cake. If you'd like, I can offer you a slice. And if you're willing, you can come back at the end of the day; I'll be trying a new fennel bread recipe that you might enjoy." You say, smiling gently at Barnes, who looks at the watch on his wrist. He's dressed formally today, which makes him look even more handsome.

"I will accept your offer to come at the end of the day. If you want to separate the piece of cake; I will gladly take it with me." He appears to be in a hurry as he heads towards the exit. You watch him, shaking your head positively.

"I'll separate them for you." You say as you watch him walk away. For the rest of the day, no matter if you were baking cookies or making a cupcake, you thought that at the end of your day; you would see Barnes.

You're distracted tidying up your counter, saving some leftovers to take home, maybe offer to your neighbors. In reality, you could already be at home but decided to do some extra cleaning at the bakery before leaving. Not because you want to cleaning everything for the thousandth time but because you want to give what you set aside to Barnes. The movement in the bakery was good, its oldest customers continue to return and bring more customers. While you're distracted, something makes a huge noise at the entrance.

"What the hell is going on here?" You shout towards the door. Next thing you know, Barnes is hurt. His clothes are torn, it looks like he was attacked. And he's standing inside your bakery, bleeding on the floor.

"You told me to come at the end of your shift. I'm sorry I'm late, I was finishing up some unfinished business." Barnes says as he tries to stay upright. You approach him, helping him sit down.

"I know we don't know each other very well, but you look terrible." You say, touching his forehead lightly, which seems to be quite bruised.

"I'm bleeding on the floor of your bakery, you can call me horrible all you want." He says smiling but then groaning in pain.

"Shouldn't we call the police or something? Maybe at least go to the hospital…" you try to suggest without success. Barnes shakes his head negatively while groaning a few curses. You worry about what kind of trouble he must be in to not want to do any of that, but suddenly it occurs to you that you have a first aid kit in the bakery's pantry.

"I know I'm asking too much, but at the moment I can't answer any questions or accept any suggestions. I only came here because I feel you like me enough to help me." Barnes speaks with some difficulty as you help him with his injuries. You're still processing the fact that he thinks you like him. While you're applying some bandages, you end up having to tear his shirt to clean the blood.

"Just tell me one thing, are we safe now?" You ask nervously as you put some bandages on Barnes. He looks at you, then holds your hand. You didn't even notice but your hand is shaking.

"As long as you're with me, you'll be safe." Barnes speaks in a seductive way but you try not to think of him that way. Even while he's injured, shirtless on the floor of your bakery. However, before you can answer anything, you hear a gunshot and suddenly, a bullet passes through the entrance to your bakery.

"I know the timing is terrible but are you sure?" You ask as you see the pained expression on Barnes' face turn into one of anger.

"Stay here, I'll sort this out and be right back." Barnes says holding your face lightly, which is the closest thing to intimacy you've had in a while but you could only think that he was intruding towards death. You watch him grab one of his best knives and head towards the front door. You are crouched down in an area a little further away from the entrance to your bakery. You hear grunts, some swearing. The guy who shot threatening Barnes, and Barnes not backing down. You hear the sound of another gunshot and then what sounds like someone using the knife. You grab the fire extinguisher on your wall and prepare to hit whoever walks through the door.And as soon as you make a move to hit the person, you feel the person holding you back.

"That would have been more useful with the bandit in front of your bakery. But it's good to know that you know how to defend yourself." Barnes says smiling pretentiously. After you dropped the fire extinguisher on the floor, Barnes fell into your arms. And all you can think is that you couldn't imagine ending your night with him in your arms like this.

[raayllum]

I know you were ready to lay CHET to rest after this season but… Callum still has the cube, we still don’t know *exactly* what it does but Aaravos will presumedly need it, and all that foreshadowing about Callum choosing Rayla over the greater good? I still believe

i'll have a more coherent post about this when i'm not running on under 7 hours of sleep for 24+ hours (close to 30+ now honestly) but no i feel so Fucking Crazy right now precisely because i went into s6, our penultimate season, expecting to finally get to lay CHET and its variants (5x08 my beloved) to rest after 4+ years, every season for 3 seasons in a row i've been ready to lay it down, and yet it's still on the Goddamn Table arguably more than ever before

Obviously certain things have changed — Callum's thematic associations with freedom would switch probably to having a role to play in 'unlocking' Aaravos' full power and/or giving him access to the other Startouch elves somehow — but both of those things are stuff I've considered being related to the cube before (as well as dark magic) so not much is actually changing there fundamentally.

What continues to change is the sheer assortment of evidence that Callum is going to play into Aaravos' hands for her (the initial basis of CHET), and Rayla is likewise going to refuse to sacrifice him (thereby shortly followed by mutual salvation theory), and 6x03 is a Giant Sign blinking Pay Attention in bright neon.

Rayla: Listen to me. If you ever have to choose between me and the greater good, do the right thing. Make the sacrifice.

Nevermind that 'right thing' is subjective and that sacrificing loved ones is routinely seen as Bad ("We must be willing to sacrifice, even the things we love" / "My daughter [...] and I tried to kill you") and that Aaravos (one of Rayla's primary foils) likewise demanded for Viren to 'make a sacrifice' regarding Sir Sparklepuff in 5x09. It'd be one thing, mind you, for Rayla to just bring up this Hypothetical and it could conceivably be dropped, but then Callum makes the basis of CHET's adjacent Mutual Salvation Theory explicit in tethering Rayla's request to his own:

Rayla: What? Callum: If Aaravos ever controls me again, if he ever uses me, promise me you'll kill me. Rayla: Yes. I promise.

(There's a few different things we can read both into Callum's renewed approach and Rayla's changed response, but meta for another day).

What this conversation does, though, is link these things in the audience's mind. If half is called upon their deal in a scenario, it's only logical that the other will be too. And, of course, Aaravos has to inevitably possess Callum, and Callum (as a main protagonist and usher of a new age of magic) cannot die, so Rayla has to break her promise (a la TTM) to keep him alive, freeing up room in the narrative to Callum likewise break his (more thinly made tbh) promise as well. The easiest order of events, therefore, is for Callum to break his promise first in order to save/protect her, be possessed, and then Rayla breaks her promise in saving him. Mutual salvation and all that

The fact we have other characters and plot threads routinely referring back to and building up Rayllum's thematic basis for each plot turn in S7 is just the cherry on top.

(We also see Rayla talk not just one but two 'monsters' down corrupted by desperation and grief, so while it may retread more territory if she does the same to Callum, there's certainly more than a precedent. For Callum, 2/3 dark magic times were for Rayla, and you don't introduce Big Extra Scary 'permanently ruined by dark magic' Stakes if you're not gonna use them as a way to escalate things, either, even if of course given that it's S7, there will be ways out and a happy ending).

Insert Callum putting the star rune sign directly down against her palm.

I think it's likely the cube is still involved somehow (all the ominous foreshadowing including and most prevalently featured in the pawn intro doesn't suddenly go away, and was only added to in S6) and really, this is about the only parallel I personally need anymore to keep chugging along theory wise:

Like it's Over and at this point we just gotta wait for S7, tbh, especially when a big juicy angsty mutual Rayllum plotline is more than in order after their relatively fluffy (loved) plotline in S6

[ihaveforgortoomany]

The Isle of the Dead painting by Böcklin in R1999

(Ignore the watermarks I cant get rid of them)

Back with another "Reverse 1999 really likes making obscure references to paintings" and this one features in the special EP for 1.9 'Reasons' performed by Dead Marbles.

(Fun fact: I am not an art history major lol, the Oath of Horatii painting was for a French Revolution essay, and a saw a YT short for the Seventh Plague from Hell painting)

(Credit to YT georgieegames for offhandedly mentioning the painting when reacting to the EP, also I recognise the painting from Signalis ... And Im realising the pipeline of doomed yuri again heh)

Heres the full shot from the EP. For this painting is harder to discern the intention of its inclusion since the original painter never gave a clear explanation to the painting. What we do know about the painting is its multiple versions, the one above is the 1880s one, other variations include a white and black photograph version with each version showing the walls growing as the figure in the boat gets closer.

(For the EP there are flowers present (maybe roses from the thorns but I cannot see them clearly)

The interpretation most go by is that the figure on the boat is Charon and that they are travelling towards death on the River Styx or River Acheron. The Manus or the Aperion followers that left the island with Sophia are depicted here (you can see the outfit under the cloak in certain closeup shots).

Honestly Arcana is an omen of death at this point, her presence ends in the death, torment and destruction of others.

Alright this part will be tricky to explain and again I am not an art major.

One of the few things Böcklin said about the painting was that it was reminicent of a dream. He was part of the Symbolist Movement that focused "on the use of abstract and metaphorical language and images to represent the absolute truth" (Hypercritic). Freud was also writing similar ideas at the same time. This idea of searching to depict the absolute truth in abstract ways could link to Sophia's search and vengeance in the phenomenal world, seeking a truth that 37 or Aperion could not give her.

The composition does create a feeling of confusion and lack of direction, while the Manus are all heading towards Arcana and Sophia, only Arcana is left assured in heading towards the dark abyss behind her. The whole EP is Sophia's resolve and aftermath of learning the futilty of the teachings she tried to follow: now as part of the Manus having to seek a new path that she may be necessarily be sure of but must follow through regardless.

This is the general idea I got from the painting, its fun to do these (the only one I havent been able to do is the painting in the scene between Constantine and Druvis in Book 3/4 since the painting is too faded and AI has fucked up google search)

[cafecourage]

Idk if requests are open; if they're not, please feel free to ignore this!!!

Okay so uh, I know that the post I'm gonna reference is more than a year old, but I just discovered your blog and I went on a binge and, well...

The Dragon Au Part 2? The one with Sky (along with the other boys, but I'm focusing on Sky)? Where you said that Sky would probably never tell his S/O about him being a dragon despite the trust he has in his S/O?

It's just...so sad! 😭 So, if I may, could I request a fic where Reader (who is, or wants to be, Sky's S/O) finds out that Sky's a dragon?

Maybe he accidentally shifted during battle, or maybe one of the other Links accidentally let slip that all of the Chain (and, therefore, Sky) are dragons? I'm not quite sure about how Reader would find out, but they do; cue them crying to another Link (probably Time, bc he's The Dad™) or even Sun, and Reader admits that they feel like they're a terrible person bc surely they did something to make Sky not trust them, right...? And Reader asks for advice on what they can do to make up for whatever Bad Thing they did, and how to be a better friend to Sky, etc. etc.

I don't like angst if it doesn't have a happy ending, so idk how to end it on a happy note; maybe Sky talks to Reader about it all & they "kiss & make up" (either figuratively or literally lol)?

(Again, feel free to ignore this if requests aren't open!!!)

IVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE THIS EVER SINCE I TOLD PINKY ABOUT IT.

Typically you were stay away from battles if anything you were learning how to fight. In this battle though your back was towards a cliff and the monsters were blocking your way into the forest which is where you normally hide. Well… This was a particularly bad situation to be in. You duck and tried to weave through but each time you tried to you almost get hit. Luckily Sky was staying by your side for a bit to fight the monsters off. Though the chain was truly outnumbered.

Not to be a downer but you think they might need a miracle.

Then it happened.

A Lizalfos got a fairly lucky shot at you right in the shoulder. The impact knocked you back off your feet and stumble back.

Right.

Off.

The cliff.

It was weird. You didn’t scream. But something did. It was loud and it felt like the air was full of electricity. In a blink of an eye a black plop swooped down heading towards you. When the blur finally crashes into you whatever it was brought you into its arms and pulled up. “Keep your eyes close.” You hear Sky whisper in your ear, you didn’t even know that your eyes had been closed the whole time. It’s not like you’re going to open them now. Especially with a warning like that.

There was a lot of screaming not just from the boys but monsters as well. A few crashes of lightning made you flinch and hold onto Sky tighter. Slowly your curiosity had peaked and you open your eyes and glanced up at Sky.

Sky who was typically the softest person in the world looked monstrous. His eyes were sharper more snake like and Night Sky-esque scales framed his features. Giving his once soft face a fiercer look to it. It could also be the death glare he had on his face. Behind him were two bat like wings and long serpents tail that matched his scales. It would have been breathtaking if you weren’t loosing blood.

Your glaze was met with his now electric blue eyes, “put me down?” You asked as you had to force yourself to look at the others but as soon as you moved the arrow that was lodged into your shoulder made its move. A curses leave your mouth as you slump back in his arms.

Sky was about to speak but Hyrule beat him, “We should find and get camp set up. For now Let me see what I can do.” The team’s medic was in charge now as the battle had been over for a bit now. “Rancher, Champion can you scout out a better, safer place?” He leads Sky with you in his arms to be seated. When settled with you in Sky’s lap and Hyrule helping you through the process of being stitched up.

You had so many questions to ask but you honestly doubt you would get answers too. “I have a question.”

“Yes Darling?” Sky’s voice was a bit more gravely than normal.

“Are you guys…” You had not idea what to say about this situation as you would assume dragons.

“Yes.” Time said before you could find the words.

A beat passes you look up at the token father, “all-“

“All of us yes.”

“Ok…” You lean into Sky’s chest. Before something bothers you again, looking up at Time again you go to ask him something.

He just sighs “yes. I’ll explain later about how our magic work. Just focus on healing.”

[the-library-of-wonderland]

Yandere!Linked Universe x Reader (Part 1???)

“You Spoil Me”

Featuring Time and Wild

Sorry if they’re OOC! I really tried to be honest! Also I know in my last post I mentioned Warriors being here but I couldn’t think of anything for him. Very sorry to the Warriors fans for that!

The way each hero spoiled you left you breathless every time. If only you knew why they poured their attention on you so much.

Time

You honestly didn’t expect the older hero to buy you a new tunic when the chain made it to town. Yours had been sewn and patched up so much over the group’s travels that there was probably no fabric from your original one at this point. It was quite the relief hearing about a clothing shop that was in the nearest town that you almost begged Time to let you guys take a quick detour. Although just the mention of needing a new tunic was enough for Time to let you guys stop there. He didn’t want his darling to be sad. When you made it to the small town he offered to look around with you, making sure you wouldn’t leave them and to help look for the clothing shop. “Here it is, let’s see if they have anything you like (y/n).” Now there you were, offering to pay for the tunic and 3 extras he made you grab (“Just in case anything were to happen” he had told you). “Now my darling, there’s no need to argue. I’ll gladly pay for it, after all, you’re giving all of us a small break by bringing us to town,” The older hero smiled down at you as he spoke. You smiled back at him at the gesture, “Okay, but do I need to pay you back later?” “Only in some hugs dear.” You giggle at his comment, unaware of the dark look he had started to give the man working at the shop. The man had been eyeing you up the entire time you two were there. It was truly disgusting how that man could stare at you so, you deserved the world and more, that man could never give it to you. Looks like he had a job to do later.

Wild

You let out a small gasp at the cozy interior of Wild’s home, for some odd reason you had expected it to be more messy. You put that thought aside though as you looked at the nice dishes and platters on his dinner table. “Oh this is so cozy Wild! No wonder you love it here so much,” you smiled at him as you spoke. “Yeah it’s really nice here. I got it pretty cheap too, although even after I bought it I still had to pay a good bit for this furniture and these weapon holders,” he said as he looked around the house. You looked over at him with a smile before you started to laugh a little, “Well since we’re here now, when’s dinner?” Wild laughed at your question, “Well, I was going to take you and the group around the village first before we ate.” “Oh okay. Well let’s go then! I’m about to starve! Also, what about the others?” “They’re already “exploring” Hateno, so no need to worry about them,” he said. Why are they worried about the others? It’s our alone time. He let you grab his hand as he led you back out his house and across the small bridge connecting it and Hateno. “So, are you taking me on a tour or did you trick me into running errands for the Old Man for you?” Wild chuckled, “Neither actually, I’d thought I’d spoil you. Maybe buy you something or bring you to a little spot to relax for a bit. You’ve been a great help around here.” “Oh, you really don’t have to Link.” You called him his name. You never do that with the others. “No, I want to.” By this time, you two had already made it to the main area of town. He led you through the main path, taking you towards the ancient lab he had mentioned was there. He was silently praying that neither of you would run into the others. They would definitely ruin his treat for you, and you could barely ever say no to the other heroes’ ideas of fun for the group. “Are you taking me to the lab you had talked about?” You looked at him after asking, curiosity painting your face. “No. There’s a small path leading to the beach near here. I want to take you there. It probably looks different from the beaches you know of, but I’m hoping you love it just as much.” He had a small smile on his face as he spoke softly. You let him lead you up to the split path and down towards the beach. You noticed the weather there was a bit gloomy, but the beach was still breathtaking. When you reached the sandy shore you instantly bent down to take your shoes off and ran towards the water. “Come get in the water with me Wild!” You laughed as you spoke, kicking your feet in the water. The Champion smiled at your excitement jogging over to the shore and getting ready to take his boots off. If only you knew how he felt.

[ughgoaway]

i hate matty healy- chapter 4

content warnings: 18+ (mdni), smut, fingering, swearing, drinking, drinking games, a secret is revealed... (its not that dramatic but shhh) and possibly confusing plot! word count- 3700-ish

a/n: All the chapters are back up now!! a little message to tumblr to say I hate you give me my blog back. all the boys are featured in this chapter, I struggled to make them sound like real people, so if the characterisation sucks... don't tell me!! I'm not sure if I hate this chapter, or I've just read it too many times, but here you go!

prev chapter next chapter

The sound of its only living echoed through your ears, or was it UGH! ? You honestly couldn't tell, you were busy being laser-focused on Matty. Ever since your strange silent conversation at the club, he was all you could think about. If anyone told you a week ago all you would be able to think about was Matthew Healy, you would've laughed in their face. But suddenly you felt tender around him, but not in a loving way. The same tenderness as a bruise. A painful tender that hurt every time you touched it, yet you always poked it over and over to see if the hurt had changed. If it had evolved. Every stolen glance felt as if someone was pushing on that bruise. You felt inexplicably closer to him but what was that phrase? Keep your friends close but your enemies closer? You were closer than friends. You are enemies linked together. The same sin binds you.

His actions on the stage tonight have caused you to roll your eyes and scoff more times than you could count. How could anyone believe this stupid rockstar act, let alone be attracted to it? All you saw was the same drunk 18-year-old who tried to chat you up at a party. The same asshole who has done nothing but torture you for the past decade. You could admit he was talented. He was also unbelievably difficult but fuck. He was talented. But he wasn't worth this. People fell over themselves to get close to him. Screamed, pushed and shoved just to touch him. His little act never impressed you, not when you were 17 and certainly not now. But if it didn't impress you how would you explain the growing need in your stomach with each song? And the way you tensed your thighs at every one of his ridiculous hip thrusts? And it certainly would be difficult to explain the wetness between your legs, practically dripping down them.

Before you knew it the boys were coming off stage, and the aura of ego surrounding Matty made you roll your eyes. If ego could be personified, it would be Matty Healy. His ever-present cockiness caused many of your arguments over the years. Mixed with his stubborn attitude it was one of his worst attributes, aside from his grating personality of course. Yet lust coursed through your veins at the sight of him. A bead of sweat dripping from his mess of curls down his neck and chest was the final straw. You lunged forward as soon as he handed his guitar off to someone and gripped cruelly around his wrist. Moving and weaving through the hoards of people you managed to escape without the other boys seeing you run off together. 

Matty didn't need words, he could feel you staring at him through the whole show, even playing it up a bit to make you even more desperate. He loved being able to see his effect on you, after years of nothing but unimpressed glares the sudden looks of hunger were like catnip to him. If anyone saw the look in your eyes and the sly smirk on his face they would know exactly what you were up to but both of you knew in that moment that didn't matter.

Stumbling down the hallway with Matty in tow you quickly dragged him into the first empty room you saw, not caring who could walk in. You didn't have a single thought other than him. Time slipped away the moment his hand grasped yours, the small contact is almost painful as if you were pressing on that same bruise. You both knew what was happening but you were still apprehensive, not believing you were about to beg Matty Healy to touch you again. Not that it would take you begging but you knew if it came down to it you would.

Shame washed over you only to be quickly replaced with want when you saw what was written all over his face. “I need you” and god you hated how much you need him too. Shutting the door you spin around to face Matty. His hand quickly meets your neck, gripping slightly flaunting his dominance over you. A breathy moan escapes your lips and your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pushes you against the cold brick wall behind you. The chill almost brings you back to reality only to be dragged back by the words spilling from Mattys’s mouth.

“Oh, darlin’ what's got you so worked up? I can feel how wet you are already” Matty teased whilst his hand slithered down from your neck to tease his fingers up your clothed core. The slight contact left you breathless. “You” came your meek reply. A wide smirk grew on Matty’s lips, “What about me darling? You spend all day with me and you're not normally this needy, or have you always been this wet around me huh?” Matty's hands move up and tease the band at the top of your underwear, his calloused fingertips softly dipping just below it; brushing just above where you need him. His other hand gripping your waist so tightly it would leave marks. Hearing you be so honest and tell him how fiercely you need him causes his breath to hitch. Soon his head of curls is pushed into your neck leaving delicate kisses, his slight stubble tickling your neck. Each time you shiver, his smirk grows against you, so pleased he could get you this worked up from his featherlight kisses.

 An impatient whimper leaves your lips and you grab his wrist trying to forcefully push his hand where you desperately need it. He smacks your hands away and tuts, coming up from your neck with a filthy look on his face. His eyes were swirling with desire and dominance, the usually chocolate brown iris’ now deep black. He wanted you to use your words, tell him how desperately you need him. Beg for him. 

You immediately gave in to his silent demands and began desperately pawing at him and babbling in his ear, “I need your fingers. Seeing you play that guitar for the past hour was driving me fucking crazy, please-” your desperate pleas were cut off by a loud moan as he simultaneously sucks your neck and slips a finger past your underwear and into your wet cunt. Swiftly, you shoot your hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself, muffled noises coming from behind your clenched fingers. 

Your head was spinning as you tried to control yourself, but there was no use because Matty quickly plunged a second finger in and spoke in your ear. Between clenched teeth he whispered, “Oh so it was my guitar playing that got you this worked up? You weren't even listening to the performance, were you? You slut. Only focused on me fucking you with my fingers afterwards. God, I love how much you want me. How much you need me.” his words only made you wetter, your slick dripping down his hand and coating your thighs. “Yes yes, need you. Only you do this to me, oh my god shit-” you breathe out. Matty chooses to ignore this startling admission, not willing to unpack why he felt his dick twitch as you pleaded for only him. He hated the possessive feeling he had over you, knowing he had no right. But hearing you so needy for him caused images to flash through his mind of you on your knees, almost crying begging and pawing at him. 

The large hand that was gripping your waist was quickly yanked away almost causing you to fall but you caught yourself just as Matty began circling your clit with his fingers. The others pumped into you at a furious pace. He was hooking his digits causing him to hit a spot that had you seeing stars. Your hand was doing very little to muffle the sound of your moans as they had quickly devolved into screams of pleasure. You can't breathe. Can't talk.  All you could think was “Matty” over and over. 

Peeling open your eyes you were met with pure lust in his. His mouth open, in awe of you. Wild sweaty curls stuck up in every direction. The black vest he was wearing showed his tense arms, muscles straining to keep you close and to keep driving into you at an unrelenting pace. Despite not having been touched he looks fucked out, “You're so tight shit- so good for me baby.” His touch was so much better than your own, the nights you spent trying to recreate how he made you feel were futile compared to the real thing. Long fingers hitting spots in you you couldn't imagine, causing your thighs to shake with each thrust.

His lips crash into your own for the first time since you began, he licks into your mouth furiously. You hungrily reciprocated groaning into his open mouth, the force he’s kissing you felt as if it would leave your lips bruised and broken. He tasted of something completely unlike anyone else, yes the usual cigarettes but also something uniquely Matty. His lips against yours were the last thing you needed to push you over the edge. Your arch into his fingers, and suddenly everything is coming to a head. The high you've been desperately chasing is crashing down with no warning. Desperately grinding your hips onto his hand chasing the feeling. White flashes behind your eyelids and your legs begin to go numb. Shaking limbs struggle to hold you up.

The hand covering your mouth shoots to grasp at Matty's forearms in an attempt to get him to slow. He continues to push into you marvelling at your face twisting in pleasure. “Ahhhh” you whimper out clenching your thighs together, the feeling being too overwhelming. Too much. Matty gets the message and slows, staring at your closed eyes and smiling. “Baby, can you hear me? You okay sweetheart? You're shaking like a leaf”, all you can manage is a slight nod letting your head lull back against the cold brick wall. The warm tone coming from his mouth is unusual for you, usually, you were lucky if you got more than grunts from Matty. But here he was whispering praise in your ear, “Good girl I'm gonna pull out now, okay.” You go to nod again but Matty quickly adds “Need to hear you, sweetheart, gotta make sure you're with me” A feeble “yes” slips past your lips which was enough for Matty. He takes his time whilst he pulls out. Using one hand to support your waist. His warm touch began to bring you down to earth. 

Slowly your eyes open and a large smile breaks out on your face, staring into Matty's eyes. “Hi baby” he sweetly says, still fuzzy you reply “Hi. Wow. that was nice” A beat of silence falls over you but was soon broken by a throaty chuckle from Matty, “Just nice? I thought that was some of my best work!” your voice is airy as you giggle back “No I'm sorry, let me try again” you fake clear your throat “it was amazing. Best I've ever had, would recommend to a friend” with a small smile you reconnect your eyes and tilt you head “better?” you ask teasingly. “Oh much better thank you darling, now if you think you can move again we really need to get to the bus. I think George will kill me if I'm late again.” Reality came crashing back and Matty saw your features harden. He didn't know why it made him feel odd. Almost disappointed. “Alright, alright. It was good it wasn't immobilise me good. Cocky fuck.” you pause briefly and straighten your posture, “Let's get going because despite me wanting to see George kill you, I would like a shot a lot more right now.”

Luckily you caught Jamie and Waughy walking back to the bus at the same time as you and Matty meaning you wouldn't have to walk in together and answer questions about where you were. Unceremoniously falling on the black leather seats as you came in caught the attention of your brother, causing him to shoot you a questioning look from the other sofa. You quickly shook your head indicating that it was nothing. 

If nothing meant thinking of how incredible it felt to fuck his best friend of nearly 20 years and how badly you want to do it again then yeah, it was nothing. Catching onto the fact that it was something but that you didn't want to talk about it Ross announced something he hoped would make you feel a small bit better, “right!” he started “I don't know about you all but I need to drink a copious amount of alcohol tonight so what do you all say about a game of never have I ever?” A resounding yes came from the group, including you. This was your opportunity to tease Matty, after what he pulled on stage tonight he deserves it. Game on.

On one sofa were Ross and George both sitting with one leg crossed over the over with beers in their hands, Adam was sat between the two men with his arms outstretched behind them both. A small pillow sat on his lap, a present from Carly to remind him of home whilst on tour. The other sofa was you and Matty, up until 10 minutes ago Jamie was acting as a barrier between the two of you but he left stating he was “too fucking drunk” and leaving you alone next to Matty. Traitor. Before you could obsess over being sat next to Matty alone the game continued. 

Giggles fill the air of the stuffy tour bus after you watch George drink for the question “Has a girl ever called you daddy in bed?” you filed that away in your mind under questions to ask Charli when you saw her next. Everyone knows every game of never have I ever always turned into people admitting weird sex stuff they've done, which might sound odd considering you playing with your brother but you elect to just not look his way during those questions and he does the same to you. The last thing he wants to know about is your sex life. In fact, he couldn't think of anything worse. As George was the only one to drink it was now up to him to come up with the next question. 

“Never have I ever kissed a member of the band?” George drunkenly slurred out, smugly you lift the beer to your lips, taking a long deep sip. A drop of condensation rolls from the lip of the bottle down your neck and settles into the hollows of your collarbone, momentarily distracting Matty from your startling admission. A loud guffaw from the man who asked the question and a groan from the other two men quickly snapped Matty back into reality. His head flicked back to George who is looking back at him. Soon a silent conversation was happening between the two men. 

Matty's hand points accusingly at George as he mouths “You?” Quickly George replies with an assured shake of his head, copying the curly-headed man he mouths back “You?” George soon realises his error as Matty shoots him an incredulous look, he accepts Matty’s answer not knowing how untrue it really was. Not knowing how just 4 hours ago he was desperately pawing at you and groaning into your mouth while fighting your tongue, desperate to keep the sweet taste of you close. Matty shook his head trying to rid his brain of the thought of you. He knew you would never admit to kissing him to anyone, let alone the boys. You were talking about someone else. He flicked his head in the direction of Ross, the same action rapidly being copied by George. Out loud the men say “gross” in unison. 

Suddenly a wave of realisation falls over them both and they turn and stare accusingly at Adam. A different sort of silence takes over the room in the wake of the realisation. A low voice breaks through it, “Hann… you didn't…” Matty said quietly almost as if speaking too loud would make it true.

“y/n whyyyy?! We managed to keep that from those two idiots for nearly 10 years!” Adam groaned. The low voices were soon replaced by chortling laughter, “HANN YOU DOG!! OH MY GOD” George cackled out in that high-pitched laugh you loved. Matty looked remarkably less impressed by this admission, even rolling his eyes at his taller friend's reaction. “Oopsie sorry!” you drunkenly giggle back. You were definitely not sorry. Especially not after getting the reaction you so desperately craved from the man next to you.

Realising there had been a suspicious amount of quiet from one person, Matty glanced over to Ross. He was met with Ross’ head thrown back and a loud groan from the man, “Don't remind me. Please.” Once George's chortling calmed down, he had one question on his mind. “Oh yeah” he began, “Adam how in the world are you still alive and walking? I would've bet good money on Ross killing you as soon as he found out.” A smirk broke across Adam’s features, looking slightly unusual on the normally quiet mans face, “trust me. He tried.” He began to quietly laugh but promptly stopped as Ross glared at him. He had the good grace to look sheepish in the wake of Ross’ unforgiving stare. Ignoring the tension between Ross and Adam, George began hounding you for details.

“Let me set the scene” you began to say, gesturing widely with your hands to lay the groundwork for the story. You left a beat of silence in an attempt to build tension, but that was soon ruined when the clearly very drunk Adam and George began giggling like teenagers. You loved the boys when they were pissed. “Oh my god, you make it sound so theatrical” Ross groaned, “it was a game of spin the bottle like 8 years ago, I was feeling generous and let Adam walk away unscathed because it was just a peck. Nothing more.” 

A glance was shared by you and Adam and soon enough more laughter came out of the two of you. “Well since this is a game of honesty I will finally tell you the truth Ross” Adam began, “It was just a peck… or it started as just a peck but after the game wrapped up we made out on the sofa for like an hour” Adam was sat next to Ross smiling at the memory until he met Ross’ eyes and swiftly ran to sit on the other side of George, using him as a human shield.

Any residual laughter was cut short once Adam had revealed the truth, “what is he talking about.” came Ross’ scarily calm response. You knew he was anything other than calm by the look in his eyes as he stared into yours. “Okay. so we lied. BUT you can't blame us Ross you are ridiculously overprotective! And anyway, we only made out, it's fine!!” Before Ross could react, Adam chimed in again “You were in my lap though and-” he stopped abruptly once he realised what he was saying, shrinking into himself and looking anywhere but Ross’ direction.

George tried to come to Adam's defence but before you knew it a very loud conversation was happening between the three men, you would've been listening but you felt a large hand grip your leg. A familiar hand. You turned to look at him but were soon interrupted by a whisper in your ear. “Keep your head forward darling, don't want anyone seeing us this close do you?” Matty drawled out, “It's amusing to see you vying for my attention with your cute little stories. A blatantly obvious attempt to get me jealous, but I'm never going to be jealous. I know I have you wrapped around my finger. Have done for a long time, one kiss ages ago isn't going to change that.”

A scoff left your lips in response, you threw his hand off of your leg, a dirty feeling sat where his hand was. Maybe it was the drinking or maybe the shame from what happened earlier but you couldn't let him speak as if he owned you, “I don't know who you think you are but you are nothing to me okay? Don't act as if you know me. You don’t. You were simply the closest warm body. Now you can either sit here and act like a good boy or storm off to your bunk. But do not think I'm ever doing anything to get a response out of you. I'm not.” venom dripped from your voice. Matty leaned away from you, his hands lifted in mock surrender. You saw his jaw tick before he simply said “Fine. But next time you come crawling back to me you'll have to beg on your knees. And we both know you'll be back will sweetheart.” before you have a chance to snap back he got up and stormed to the back of the bus.

The other three finally focused again when they saw Matty leaving suddenly, not knowing what caused his rash actions but they looked over at you and saw you glaring in the direction Matty left in. They chalked it up to another one of your petty arguments, not realising it was not just another usual fight. The game stopped abruptly after that, the remaining boys all following Matty's lead and storming to their beds. You knew they would all be over it tomorrow, no doubt they would be hugging and making up before breakfast as they always did. But Matty's comments sat uneasily in your stomach. 

This had to be the end of whatever the fuck you were doing with him, you would never get on your knees and beg for him like he suggested… you were sure of it.

(note- this is a repost, tumblr deleted my old account so this is a new one! I'll add this note on each reposted chapter)

[trilobi-te]

Chipspeech Twitter Archive Update

Hi I should have done this months ago.. I do not know when (or if) I am going to finish that website lmao. So I am just going to share my notes from Google Docs. Should be easier to read than the original posts and helpful as a starting point if anyone else decides to make a website :3

The documents are all on commenting mode so feel free to make comments to bookmark things for yourself or write your thoughts or whatever. Under the cut I have put some formatting notes.

It's a folder, each year of Twitter posts is its own document (I tried to compile them into one but it lagged too much). There is also a document with all of the original Tumblr posts (from the accounts I could find, no tags yet but I will go back and get them eventually, also no dates but they're all from 2015), and one with the bios from the official website for ease of access.

The formatting is a little (a lot) weird and there are probably pictures that need resizing/transcription but I figured it's better to give people access now. The text is small (to keep the page count as low as possible) so you will have to zoom in.

It goes by day, organized with a bulleted list. The top level bullets are each character that tweeted that day. The second level bullets are original tweets/retweets by that character. The third+ level bullets are comment threads under that tweet, the organization here is inconsistent but imo still readable (if you think something needs an edit for clarity let me know and I'll fix it).

For each character's section of the list, normal text is that character's tweets/comments. Italicized text is anyone who is not that character. If it is labeled with unitalicized text, it is that character/important account (e.g. the official Chipspeech account), otherwise it is a fan. I also included some labels and/or clarifying comments for Vocaloid producers I like, they're not central to the story though

I got rid of the line breaks within the tweets when copying them down because it was easier to format. Sorry about that. Idk how to fix it other than going through everything again but it doesn't take away from the story so I'm leaving it for now.

If something came from a website other than Twitter, I tried to provide the link (unless its content was deleted). I did my best to transcribe the Clyp posts that were not deleted.

If something is a text-only retweet, it is marked with [retweet]. If it includes an image, it's probably a screenshot of the whole thing. I only included retweets that felt story-relevant (so no miscellaneous cat pictures, Apple-related aesthetic images, etc.), but if people really want it I can go back and add the rest.

Deleted tweets are noted with [deleted tweet], with the characters they came from if applicable. Idk how Twitter works but it the person in the thread is replying to the username of a certain character, I assumed it was that character's tweet that had been deleted. If something says [deleted Dandy thread], assume there is a deleted Dandy tweet in between each of the listed tweets (or another character, but it's usually Dandy). That was meant to be a temporary time-saver and I've gone back and fixed the ones I've found, but there's probably more I accidentally skipped.

Anything not in English is translated in a comment. Except the X-Sampa (I will fix that sometime but there's not much of it). Also it was done with the built-in Google Translate feature so it may be a little incorrect. Unclear pictures and whatnot also have clarifying comments. I can add more clarifying comments (or image IDs) if anyone needs them.

I tried not to include any unattributed fanart but there are some that I forgot to copy the handle for (I am also fixing these when I find them).

As for any future updates to this folder as a whole, I kind of want to go back through each account's liked tweets to see if there's anything funny in there but idk when that will be. That would probably be its own document.

Honestly I should have given everyone access back in June.. oops. If you have any questions you can put them in a comment on this post (or reach out to me another way, idk). As I mentioned before, feel free to use all of this as a starting point if you're making your own website.

I'll pin this post so it's findable in the future. Also sorry for disappearing for several months (it will happen again).

[faerunscursed]

"Did you really think I was going to leave you alone?" Zariel's voice carried through the smooth darkness. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Oppressively loud, it boomed against Karlach's ears and yet seemed to also originate from inside of her. As the darkness peeled itself away, Karlach would find herself on a smooth, yet firm, white surface. Tree trunks or maybe wicked mountains twisted around her, reaching for the skies. However, suddenly, there was a twitch of movement in them and as they closed in around the tiefling, they revealed themselves to be Zariel's fingers. Her nails, sharp and hooked like claws, hovered threateningly close to Karlach's body as if with one mere press they would dismember her. They were sitting in the throne room in Avernus. Specifically, Zariel was sitting on the throne, if the whole place was scaled up to accommodate her true size. Her wings, large enough to blacken the skies, were folded prim and proper on her back, and her long, rough, leather armour folded and crinkled around her lean body. The flail rested on her lap, a long, ever-curling serpent of metal links, ending in a thick, club-like ending with pointy spikes, hard, yet slim enough that Zariel could jam it down your throat. Her head was bald, making her look more like a smoothly polished carcass instead of a pale elf, even if her facial features resembled the species. Pools of white fire stared down at Karlach with an expression of detachment and yet fury all at once. Zariel inspected the tiefling in her hand the same way a cruel boy might inspect a centipede, wondering how long it would take to break off each leg individually. "I told you, there would be no outrunning me, Karlach", Zariel explained icily, "Wherever you go, how far you flee and how deep you hide, I will always find you. This is a fruitless endeavour." Her nail descended down and lightly tapped against Karlach's engine. A bit too much force and she would squeeze her remaining organs into mush. "If my henchmen do not find you, your engine will give out eventually. And then you will be returned to me regardless. Why do this to yourself? All roads lead back to me in the end, whether you are dead or alive."

The dream had started out peaceful, Karlach sitting against a brilliantly green tree, the wind hitting her face as she took in the nature around her. She smiled as she could hear birds chime and sing around her. It was pure bliss, and a break from the cold reality that was her life. And yet eventually all good things come to an end, as right she was about to let herself fully shut her eyes, everything shifted.

'Did you really think I was going to leave you alone?' Karlach's ears ached with the loudness that came with the words of Zariel, her infernal engine already racing. It had been so long that Karlach had had the minor hope that she was finally rid of her, but now Zariel was coming back full force. The infernal tiefling watched as the scene shifted and twisted around her until she found herself in Zariel's hands, she curled up in an attempt to avoid the nails so close to her body now.

Panic officially set in when she realized where Zariel had taken them, the throne room in which she had been so acquainted with during the times of her service as champion. Even more so, she was all too familiar with the flail, in which sat across her lap and she coward briefly in fear. The very flail that had been used on her several times due to acts of defiance. Not even that, sometimes if Karlach didn't do a good enough job it would merit the punishment.

It wasn't until Zariel spoke again that she gained some semblance of control over herself, a challenge to take to her pact holder. "Funny, I've been doing a pretty damn good job so far. It took your ass this long to mess with me again, didn't it?" Karlach growled, though he body flinched as she as a claw tapped her engine. In a rage she immediately tried to even swat the nail away. "If it wasn't for Mizora you would have never found me, face it."

"You think even if your henchmen found me that would make a difference? Please, I will kill anyone you throw at me because I will never fucking go back to Avernus, you understand? I will do anything and everything so long as I don't have to see you ever that shit hole ever again." Karlach spat on Zariel's hand in disgust. "I'm not your champion anymore."@shimmerbeasts

[edupiii]

🦇The Cryptic Tales of Coppersfield Update!!💛

Now I’m not entirely sure how many people on here actually read my fic The Cryptic Tales of Coppersfield, but incase you do I just wanna give a small update!

I’m more than halfway through finishing Chapter 10 as well as beginning Chapter 11, however, I am in the middle of final exams and essays for my first year of uni so my attention is focused on that stuff. I checked the other day and realized I hadn’t posted a new chapter in a while so I just wanted to put out this PSA incase any readers were wondering what was happening.

I’m also finishing up the designs for Lizzy and Khan, and sketched out Alice and Beau (even though they aren’t gonna show up for a while, I wanted to draw them). I think I’ll be making a new design for Uzi and possibly Thad since they were the first ones I made and looking back I think I could do better on them. To thank you for your patience and understanding, here is the intro to the next chapter!!

(Uzi uses she/they pronouns interchangeably btw, just a heads up incase you get confused reading)

TW: mention of body horror

Chpt 10, Game Plan

It was getting closer, she was sure of it. They couldn’t hear it over the sound of her own laboured breathing and the crunching of fallen leaves underneath their heavy steps; but they knew it was coming. They had been running in the dead of night for…she wasn’t sure on the exact amount of time, but a long time would suffice for an answer.

She stopped in the middle of a clearing and spun around, feeling the distinct fear of recognition growing. She had already been here. They’d gone in some type of messed up circle. But how?

Without warning, the sound of whatever was chasing her had caught up. They could hear it’s own heavy breathing and it’s snarling grin as it approached the small, tired figure. She begrudgingly turned their form to face their enemy, feeling her gut twist as the moonlight glistened off its torn and broken flesh’s

The creature cocked its head while making some sickly attempt to laugh at its preys reaction. It looked like it could have at one point been human, but its length and height were far too unnatural of any persons. Where Uzi assumed its eyes would be was covered by greasy hair while its mouth hung open. It’s not that it was opening its mouth, it’s that it no longer had a bottom jaw to close its ever gapping gob.

Long, spindly arms helped it crawl its thin yet heavy body closer to Uzi, her feet trying to move but unable too. Finally this thing stood over the terrified teen, drool dripping from its hanging maw onto Uzis hair and face. Its head drew closer and closer, its features becoming more prominent with every passing second.

The filthy hair covering its eyes slanted as it smiled down at Uzi, allowing her to be able to see the creatures face. As they looked in horror, a tinge of confusion began to swell. What gazed back at them were not eye’s necessarily, but two sagging black sockets. In the middle of each empty hole was that strange three pronged symbol Uzi had seen so many times before. They were glowing yellow and shaking sporadically.

Uzi snapped out of their trance as the thing inched its putrid face ever so slightly to her own, causing them to try and retreat. But they couldn’t. She looked back up and gazed at the beast whose warm breath incapsulated their face.

“Wha-what the hell are you?” they asked in a shaking voice. “Some kin-kind of eldritch monster?”

The thing reared back slightly, almost like it was in shock. However, this feeling quickly faded away as it brought its face right back up to Uzis.

“It hurts our feelings you don’t remember us.”

Uzi tried to pull away once again while looking at the things mouth. “How can-can you talk!? Some psychic link! You don’t even-“

“Easier to assimilate then explain.”

A large claw seemed to almost emerge from the shadows, its skin black with webbing between the talons. It rose up quickly and came back down on Uzi who readied for their painful demise, when suddenly-

———

AGN!

AGN!

AGN!

AGN!

Uzi shot straight up from their sleeping position, her alarm clock blaring it’s awful symphony. The noise hurting her very being, Uzi wasted no time scrambling over and slamming a shaking fist on the old electronic. It finally shut up.

Leaning back slightly, Uzi began to notice how much they were shaking. Their breathing was incredibly heavy with her heart rate sending small tremors throughout her body. She also began to notice how sweaty they were (gross! i hate waking up sweaty)

However, like the past week of restless dreams, it’s memory quickly faded from her mind. They couldn’t recall any of it. At least…they’d like to not recall any of it, because the one thing that stuck in her head were the unnerving words that were spoken to them before they awoke.

Spoken in that god awful, familiar monotone voice that chirped in their head.

______

[fratboykate]

Just a desperate anon, politely asking if this was ever posted 👀👀👀 or if it could be added to the potential writer-strike queue if it wasn’t. I am crossing my fingers it wasn’t eaten by tumblr or notes…

https://www.tumblr.com/fratboykate/711128923636908032/papi-we-need-the-stepmom-angst-its-a-matter-of

You must've crossed those fingers really hard because you sent this two weeks ago and are now getting it three whole days before the strike lol. Here's almost 10k of...them. Mom!AU is officially back from the war too.

///

"Do NOT bring those boots into the apartment, Ri. Off by the door. I mean it. You're cleaning it if you track all that dirty slush around."

Kate abruptly halts her twelve-year-old daughter’s hasty rush toward the entrance with a firm yank on the hood of her brightly colored parka and deftly transfers the stroller she’s pushing to Ereka. In the same single, graceful, and fluid motion, Kate skillfully juggles the diaper bag, empty coffee tumbler, and cell phone freeing her dominant hand to dig through her purse for her keys. A palpable imperativeness hangs in the air as they make their way down the hallway because Russell, who currently tries to squirm his way out of the stroller straps, is on the brink of a meltdown. With each passing second, his patience wears thinner, and Kate endeavors to avoid him going nuclear in public.

"And take your brother's boots off too, please. You know where the stroller goes. Don't just leave it blocking the door. Did momma text you back about dinner?"

"No...Any day now would be great, mom."

Kate's eyes narrow with stony intensity as she shoots Ereka a dirty look.

"I’ll leave you out here. Don’t try me."

"Top-notch parenting. I'll be sure to add that to the CPS file I'm compiling."

"Mommy, druck!"

Two-and-a-half-year-old Russell unleashes a series of frustrated hollers from within his rolling prison. His annoyance is palpable.

The boy is an undeniable carbon copy of his mother, a living reflection of Yelena. Kate has never once laid eyes on her son and seen anything other than an unmistakable resemblance to her wife. This moment isn’t an exception. Kate can't help but notice the striking parallels between them. Every feature screams Yelena, from how his nose scrunches when he smiles to his green eyes to his vibrant blonde hair to his Short King status. Even his breathing issues, which lend a raspy voice and a crackling laugh, serve as a constant reminder of the deep link that those two share. Kate could complain about the fact that he also inherited her rotten temper, but instead, she finds herself captivated by this portable embodiment of her darling wife.

"Yes, baby. Riri will get you another truck as soon as we're inside."

"I WANT RED DRUCK NOW! RED DRUCK!"

"Okay, woh. Tone, sir. You're the one who threw it out the car window. You're gonna wait until we get inside and give zero attitude because this is a problem of your own doing."

Russell furrows his brow, a visible display of his discontent, followed by an exasperated huff. The air between them hangs momentarily. This could be the moment when he finally loses his cool. Then…after a beat…

"A druck is a wectangle, mommy."

"It is. What shape is this?"

Kate holds up the face powder she's holding.

"Circle! Cuz it wound. Like this..."

The little boy traces a circle in the air with his plump toddler fingers.

"Good job!"

"Oh my god. Do we live in the hallway now? Open the door."

Kate continues digging through her purse while simultaneously turning to Ereka and contorting her face into a humorous expression. Ereka quickly mirrors her mother's mischievous look, sparking a shared moment of amusement between the two. Laughter escapes their lips, affording them a moment of levity amid the chaotic scene. As their chuckles subside, a triumphant glimmer sails through Kate's eyes — she’s finally found the keys!

"There's no reason this thing should be able to swallow my keys into another dimension. It's not that big."

Kate swings the door wide open with a determined push. Without missing a beat, she dumps the bags that dangle from her shoulders onto the table by the entrance while slipping her waterproof boots off. Once her hands, arms, and feet are free, she heads to the jacket closet to begin taking layers off.

"Ri! Come on! You're smarter than that. Take your boots off first, THEN his. Moving around and look at the mess you're making."

Kate is too busy chastising her daughter to notice Yelena's coat is already hanging in the closet.

"You said to take his off too. I'm doing that and you get mad."

"I didn't think I needed to give you a detailed step-by-step on how to do it right, but I'll be sure to next time."

"Next time, I just won't do it if you're going to scream at me either way."

"There was no screaming. Just pointing out the obvious."

"...while you screamed."

Kate offers a vexed eye roll then strides into the apartment, leaving Ereka to wrestle with the challenge of removing Russell's stubborn boots in the foyer. Kate moves with purpose, her footsteps echoing as she navigates through the familiar space. Once Ereka successfully frees her brother’s tiny feet from the damp shoes, she proceeds to unstrap him from the stroller.

"Riri, druck!"

"I will get you your dumb truck, but I need to take this off you so mom doesn't flip a lid." Ereka tells her brother while deftly unzipping the small, purple coat.

"DRUCK NOW, RIRI!"

The little boy squirms as Ereka wrestles with his jacket.

"I will hide all your trucks if you scream at me again."

A deep frown creases Russell’s face, his features contorting into an expression of displeasure and frustration.

"No! Druck Wuss!"

"Yeah, they're your trucks, but I can also put them on the top shelf where you can't reach them if you don't stop being a brat." Ereka slides his gloves off, stands, and heads for the door a few feet away. Ereka opens the closet and immediately catches Yelena's coat. She hastily hangs her brother's tiny parka, throws the gloves into the corresponding cubby, and stares at Yelena's jacket once more before turning to Russell. "Don't move." Ereka darts to the back of the apartment, disappearing momentarily from Russell’s sight. She returns to the hallway that connects the foyer to the rest of the apartment a few seconds later. "Mama's home."

From her position by the kitchen island, Kate gazes at her daughter with confusion etched across her face.

"What?"

"Her coat's in here, so I went and checked and she's in the room. I think she's sleeping though, because all the lights are off."

Kate turns to glance at the clock on the microwave. 5:28 PM. Yelena is never home before them, let alone before 5:00 PM. At least not unless she's feeling unwell. Kate closes the cookbook she perused for dinner ideas and heads for the bedroom.

"Please keep an eye on him and get him one of the trucks from his chest. Thank you."

Kate tells Ereka as she kisses the top of her head in passing.

"Come on, Russellsprout. Let's get you a truck."

Kate suppresses a smile and instinctively rolls her eyes, a reflexive response to Ereka’s talent for assigning people terrible (and often food-related) nicknames. This might be one of the most annoying traits Ereka inherited from her father and Kate can’t help but find it both amusing and exasperating.

---

Kate enters the pitch-black room, stepping closer to the bed as her eyes gradually adjust to the darkness. The air is nice and toasty, meaning the older woman must be running the small space heater she’s permanently moved to her nightstand. As Kate approaches, she can see Yelena is, in fact, in bed. Her back is turned to the door and her shoulders rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm. A wave of concern washes over the brunette as she realizes that her wife must be feeling truly awful to be in bed this early.

"Baby...Yel..."

Kate whispers but gets no answer. She debates letting Yelena sleep but can't resist the urge to be close to her wife, even if it's just for a moment. Kate crawls into bed and nestles herself against Yelena’s warm form. Yelena instinctively responds, her body pushing back into Kate’s.

Kate's lips find Yelena's neck, leaving a trail of soft, affectionate kisses. Her arm delicately snakes around Yelena's overgrown midriff, cradling the ever-growing twenty-two-week pregnant belly.

"You okay?"

Kate whispers into Yelena's ear and places a gentle kiss on her earlobe. Yelena softly shakes her head, indicating her disinterest in engaging in conversation at the moment.

The most accurate way to describe Yelena's pregnancy thus far is: miserable. The first trimester was a nightmare, marked by persistent malaise and bouts of morning sickness that had her bent over a toilet for hours on end, leaving her feeling drained and weak. And those were the good days. But that was only the tip of the iceberg. Yelena’s body is rebelling at every turn. Run down any list of pregnancy symptoms (and add a few more most people had never even heard of), and Yelena went through all of them. Her body seems determined to manifest every ailment imaginable and magnify its intensity. The dizziness has become a constant companion. Exhaustion has settled in her bones, claiming all of her energy. Frequent nosebleeds interrupt her daily routine, keeping her perpetually on edge. There’s also the hormonal mood swings that leave Yelena feeling like a stranger in her own body. Crippling headaches punctuate her days with throbbing pangs, constantly forcing her to seek solace in the darkness…like now.

Throughout the madness of this pregnancy, Kate has risen to the occasion, stepping up as a pillar of emotional support and embracing the role of caregiving, devoted partner with unwavering dedication. Day in and day out, Kate has done everything she can to make Yelena's life easier, including taking on the lion’s share of household chores and errands. Additionally, Kate has done everything in her power to anticipate Yelena's needs. She cooks meals to soothe Yelena's queasy stomach, researches remedies and alternative therapies to alleviate symptoms, offers calming teas and massages to ease aches, ensures Yelena stays hydrated and gets enough rest, or is simply around to provide a comforting touch along with words of consolation when Yelena is feeling down about the toll that pregnancy is taking on her body. Kate has become a constant presence by her wife’s side, ensuring Yelena feels loved and cherished throughout this challenging period. Overall, Kate has made it her mission to turn Yelena's difficult pregnancy into a somewhat manageable experience.

With tender affection, Kate runs her palm over Yelena's growing belly.

"I thought we had a deal that you were going to be nice to momma, baby girl. What's going on in there, huh?"

"Your stupid genes...trying to kill me." Kate chuckles, a jovial response to their now recurring conversation. Since Yelena is carrying a baby conceived with Kate's egg and the donor's sperm, Yelena has started to (halfway?) joke that Kate’s genes must be “toxic” to her and that they’re the root cause of Yelena's endless pregnancy woes. "You drive me crazy every day. Why did I think putting a literal piece of you inside me would go any better?"

"I'm sorry. So evil of me. Bad, BAD genes. I'll have a talk with them later." Kate's lips graze Yelena's shoulder, leaving behind a trail of soft kisses. In an instant, Yelena's body surrenders to her touch and loosens up as a result. "What are you feeling for dinner?"

"The last thing I want near me right now is food."

"You need to eat, Yel."

"I need this baby out of me. That's what I need."

Yelena lets out a discontented grumble and Kate's smile blossoms against her skin.

"Three more months. You just have to cook the nugget for three more months and you're done."

"That sounds like forever. Don't like it."

"How about some Mac and Cheese? Would that make it somewhat better?"

"Kate Bishop...are you trying to bribe me out of bed?"

"Maybe. I think there's lobster in the fridge. I think I got some when I went on Monday. If not, I can have some delivered. Lobster Mac. Super ooey and gooey and cheesy and yum."

"Why are you trying to sell it to me like I'm two?"

"It's how I convince your son to eat. Figured it might work on you since you're both grumpy little gremlins." Restless and dissatisfied, Yelena grunts in discomfort and shifts in bed, struggling to find an agreeable position to no avail. Eventually, she ends up half-facing Kate, seeking some semblance of relief in the brunette’s proximity. Kate offers her a warm smile. "That's the face of someone who could do with some ooey gooey cheesy yum in their life."

Yelena's lips curl into a merry smile and she indulges in a slight eye roll.

"I hate that it's actually working."

"My job is to sell things for a living and..." Kate plants a delicate kiss on Yelena's lips. "...I'm good at what I do."

"You..."

The door bursts open, unleashing a flood of light that fills the room. The little blonde toddler charges inside with a whirlwind of energy while proudly showcasing the truck his sister procured for him.

"MOMMA, LOOK! RIRI GOT RED DRUCK!"

Russell hops onto the bed, forcefully wedging himself with determined enthusiasm into the nonexistent space between his mothers.

"Your son...he had the genius idea to hurl his truck out the moving car window on our way here. Blue truck no more."

"Russ...that's dangerous. We don't do that."

"Blue druck went...FRUMMMMMMM"

The little boy offers Yelena an animated demonstration of the flight his toy truck embarked on with uncontainable excitement.

"RUSSPBERRY!"

"He's in here!"

Kate shouts at her daughter, who promptly appears at the door seconds later.

"Sorry. I went to the bathroom and I told him to stay."

"It's okay."

"Did he wake momma up?"

"Your mom woke me up."

"WITH KISSES. It was the most gentle wake-up ever."

"Still woke me up."

Kate shakes her head, purporting to be piqued.

"Come here. There's room."

Ereka's face lights up with a broad smile as she dashes to the bed and jumps onto it, somehow also forcing herself between Kate and Yelena.

"Easy. Momma's not feeling great."

"Sorry. Hi."

Ereka settles herself snugly, resting her chin on Yelena's hip and tenderly placing her hand on the gentle curve of her mother’s stomach.

"Hi. How was school?" Yelena asks with genuine curiosity.

Ereka shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of facetious defiance in her expression.

"Same as every other time you ask."

Kate and Yelena exchange amused glances before bursting into laughter. Yelena leans closer to Ereka, a warm grin on her face.

"Humor me."

Ereka huffs dramatically, her eyes rolling with jocose petulance. A small, roguish grin tugs at the corners of her lips, giving away her underlying amusement.

"Classes are boring. Everyone is stupid. The rules don't make sense. It's always going to be the same thing. So…fine, I guess. Tolerable.”

"Oh, you're going to be a FUN teenager." Yelena responds, her tone lighthearted and teasing.

"If I'm as precocious as everyone says I am, then technically, you could assume I've been a teenager for a while now."

"Yeah, that's it. The moment you hit thirteen, I'm packing your bags and finding you a new place to live, or I'll start graying early.” Kate playfully warns while simulating seriousness.

"Wow. Threatening to rescind my housing for exercising my right to free speech? I'm sure some case worker out there is salivating at the thought of it."

Kate rolls her eyes.

"Mommy, hungwy. I has milk?"

"Have, baby. Can I have milk?"

"Yeah. Can I haves it?” The little boy insists eagerly and with a hint of distress.

Kate chuckles.

"Close enough. But we're having dinner in a little bit, so no milk right now." Kate places a final peck on Yelena's lips and starts to stand. "Mac and cheese for dinner."  

"Yesssss. Can you put bacon in it?" Ereka inquires excitedly.

"If you guys haven't gone through it already, then sure. Last I checked, there were like two pieces left, so not making any promises."

"Tell Lila to make less bacon for breakfast then."

"OR...you could do what I ask and write it on the list when you see we're running low. She already has enough on her plate with you two. You could help out more."

A few times a week, a dedicated housekeeper arrives early in the morning to help with the kids and the upkeep of the house. She quickly becomes a lifeline for the family, offering an extra pair of capable hands and a much-needed boost of organization and support. This arrangement means Kate and Yelena have less to juggle and can focus more of their time on the children.

"You also saw we were running low and didn't put it on the list, so..."

"I did put it on the list when I realized I just haven't gone shopping again. But it wasn't on my last list because YOU, the bacon fiend in this house, didn't put it there."

"Whatever." Ereka grumbles, feigning annoyance.

"Keep her busy...but don't drive her crazy. It's a delicate balance. I'll scream when it's ready. And...I might need you at some point, so don't pretend like you don't hear me calling you when I do."

Kate punctuates her words by tapping Ereka on the shoulder as she stands and walks away.

"I have bad ears." Ereka tries to play it off, but Kate doesn't let her off the hook.

"Not according to the doctor, you don't."

Ereka has gotten so proficient at selective hearing that Kate took her to the otolaryngologist to get her checked, only to prove a point.

Ereka repositions herself to lie on Kate's pillow, her face ending next to Yelena’s. She lovingly presses her head against the blonde’s.

"I like it when you're home early."

Yelena offers a faint smile while keeping her eyes closed.

"Me too."

"WUSS LIKES, MOMMA." Russell exclaims. He has an adorable habit of referring to himself in the third person, which always makes the outlandish things he says objectively funnier.

The little boy clambers up Yelena's body, unknowingly jabbing her sides with the hard plastic of his toy truck. Yelena winces and hisses in pain, prompting her to extend her arms and lift him off.

"Why are all your toys deadly weapons?" Yelena gripes, readjusting Russell so he's lying against her chest and carefully removing the toy from his hand. He immediately snuggles his cheek against hers and allows his entire body weight rest on her. Yelena lets out a groan, a mixture of mischief and genuine fatigue. "You guys are so clingy. Where are we even going to fit a third?"

Yelena fake complains, although deep down, she loves every second of it.

"She can go right here."

Ereke facetiously places her open hand over Yelena's face, covering most of it. Yelena chuckles.

"Yeah. Perfect place to sit a dirty diaper on."

Ereka's chuckles echo around the room as Yelena tries to shake her palm off her face. With a bit of effort, Yelena succeeds in removing Ereka's hand and turns to face her, offering a weak but earnest smile.

"I'm sorry you're not feeling good."

"It's okay. I'll suck it up...but I'm going to complain the entire time."

Ereka snickers and slides impossibly closer to Yelena, their bond evident in their proximity.

"Thank you for a little sister."

Yelena presses a loving kiss to Ereka's temple.

"Are you happy about it?"

"SO MUCH!" Ereka’s genuine excitement and gratitude shine through her words. "...Unless you're lying to me again and it's actually another one of these..." Ereka pokes her fingers all around Russell's body and the toddler giggles uncontrollably. "...in there."

Yelena guffaws.

"Promise it's a girl. For real this time. And she's a very lucky girl to have you as a big sister."

"I think so too."

"We have to work on your modesty." Yelena teases her daughter with a smile.

"I'm the right amount of confident. I know I'm a good big sister. Right, Russpaghetti?"

Ereka looks at her little brother for validation. The boy eagerly nods his head as he pats his tiny hands all over Yelena's face.

"Mama, milk pwease."

"Mommy is working on dinner. No milk right now. Milk later."

"Milk pwease." Russell persists, his fussiness escalating.

"No milk right now, Russ."

The boy begins to fuss and instantly works himself up to the brink of a tantrum.

"MILK, MAMA!” Russell insists, his volume rising.

"No no. Shhhhh...let's all just...Shhh...quiet time until dinner is ready. How about that? That sounds so much more fun and better for my head."

"NO!"

Ereka rolls her eyes at his protest and rises from the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To get him milk. He's not going to stop until someone does and it'll make your headache worse if he doesn't. Just a little and he'll chill."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah."

Ereka disappears out the door.

"Milk."

"Ri, went to get you some."

“Milk. Okay." Russell acknowledges, reassured that his request is being taken care of.

"So stubborn. Definitely get that from your other mom, not me. Definitely not me."

Yelena pulls the boy close and covers his body in kisses. His sour mood instantly shifts and he devolves into a fit of giggles.

---

An hour later, the foursome sits around the table, settled into their usual seats. Russell is perched in his high chair next to Kate, who patiently feeds him his meal. Ereka is to the other side of Kate, absentmindedly moving the food around her plate, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Yelena, determined to fend off her nausea, takes slow, deliberate bites, willing herself to keep the food down.

"Can I ask you something? And you'll promise you'll at least think about it before you say no?"

"Uh oh," Kate utters.

"I'm serious, mom."

"Me too. I can't possibly see how this is good, so I was bracing."

"Momma, promise you'll at least think about it."

Ereka turns towards Yelena, her expression brimming with seriousness and sincerity. Yelena meets her daughter's gaze, responding with a warm smile that conveys her openness to listen and engage wholeheartedly in anything Ereka is about to share.

"Whatever it is, mom and I will think about it and have a fair discussion before we get back to you.”

Following Yelena’s reassurance, a brief silence fills the room as Ereka gathers her thoughts. Kate and Yelena maintain their focus on her.

"I don't want to go stay at dad's anymore...ever."

Ereka declares confidently. Kate and Yelena instantly exchange worried glances.

"Did something happen?"

"No. Yes. No. I just...it's not that I don't want to see him. I just don't want to sleep over. Or be gone for days. Whenever I'm there, I'm missing here and Russtachio and you guys. And baby sister is coming soon and I'll miss her too. You always end up doing something fun without me and I hate it. Nothing I'm doing there is better than being here."

"Ri, we can't take days away from your dad."

"Why not?"

"It would...be a problem."

"What problem?! Just tell him I can…I don’t know…come hang out during the day for a few hours and then he has to bring me back."

"It doesn't work that way."

"Why not?!"

"Because we have a court-ordered agreement that we need to stick by. He gets you 30% of the time. That's how it works."

"Fuck court."

"Ereka!" Kate and Yelena exclaim simultaneously.

Ereka responds with a nonchalant shrug, seemingly unfazed by their reaction.

"See? That's what happens when you send me over to dad's house. I learn curse words. Bad influence."

"Honey, your dad loves you. You're the light of his life and he loves spending time with you." Kate tells Ereka matter-of-factly, her tone filled with unwavering certainty.

"All they do over there is be angry, argue with each other, and drink until they make up more reasons to keep arguing. Then it usually goes to fighting and breaking things. I hate it."

"How long has this been going on?" Yelena inquires, her voice laced with worry.

"Since I was little. That's what grandma's house has always been like."

"Who argues and breaks things?"

"Everyone. Everyone is always over for dinner and definitely on weekends. Dad and Uncle Billy get into it every time they start drinking. Aunt Viv drinks even more now that she's getting divorced. Her and dad argue all the time too. And then Aunt...it's a lot of people and I don't want to sleep over anymore."

"Ereka, did something else happen that you're not telling us? Something bad?" Yelena doubles down on her line of questions.

"No. I just want to come back home every night. I want to sleep here. Always."

"You can tell us anything. You know that, right?"

"I'm telling you right now!"

"Okay...hey...let's take a breather." Kate interjects, attempting to calm her.

"Ri, look at me," Yelena asks firmly. "Did anything inappropriate happen over there and you're scared to go back? Because if something did, we will..."

"Oh my god! No one like...touched me or did anything weird! Ew. Don't go there. I just don't like them. That's it. Nothing illegal. I mean, I have seen illegal things, but...nothing illegal involving me. I swear. Truly...that's not it."

"Promise?"

"Promise. It's not that. Really."

Yelena nods, her gaze shifting between Kate and Ereka, silently acknowledging the weight of the situation.

"We'll talk about it and get back to you.“

"There's nothing to talk about. We can't do that."

"We'll talk." Yelena insists, her voice firm yet gentle. "Give us some time, okay?"

Ereka nods and Yelena reaches across the table, placing a heartening hand on Ereka's.

"Thank you."

The girl whispers and finally takes her first bite of food, her appetite slowly returning. The table falls into a solemn silence as they continue their meal, each of them deep in their minds.

---

Yelena lies in bed, her hands absentmindedly caressing her stomach. Her eyes remain fixed on Kate, who moves around the bathroom finishing the last few steps of her nightly routine.

"Yel, we can't take this on,” Kate asserts firmly.

"Why not?"

Kate walks to the doorway, rests her shoulder against the jamb, and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Because we went to court for almost TWO YEARS to get the agreement we have now. How do you think it's gonna go over if I call him tomorrow and tell him we're breaking it? Do you really wanna go through whatever that brings up? Now? In the middle of this?"

Kate's hand gestures to Yelena's stomach, emphasizing their current situation.

"My feelings aren't more important than hers. If she doesn't want to go back, we shouldn't force her."

"Yes. You're correct. Absolutely. We should always take her feelings into consideration. But think about it like this, what she's asking is for us to get full custody and he gets SOME visitation rights. Under nebulous circumstances. What is she actually asking for? She gets to see him for two hours every other weekend and then comes home? We don't know what she wants, but whatever it is, I know that we don't have legal grounds to take her away from him. He's gonna fight it."

"And we can fight him."

Kate lets out a tired groan as she switches off the bathroom light. She moves to the bed, slipping under the covers, sitting up, and leaning her back against the bed frame. Her eyes are glued on the darkened TV screen across from her, her mind seemingly lost in serious contemplation.

"You two would fight all day if it were up to you, but *me*...I'm over it. This isn't something that's realistic and as much as I hate making her do something she doesn't want to, no judge is going to take his partial custody away. We don't even have any reason to take him back to court. Nothing's changed."

"She said she's seen illegal things...We should ask what that is."

"Yelena..." Kate turns to face her wife, her expression showing both fatigue and vulnerability. "...I don't have another two years of court in me. I don't have even another second of his tantrums and his shit in my body. I can't do it. Especially knowing we're not going to win. He's been...better???"

"That's a stretch."

Yelena reaches out and takes Kate's hand in hers, intertwining their fingers, and grounding her. Grounding each other.

"It has been better. You can't deny it hasn't. Why do we want to poke the bear?"

"For her. I would poke the bear for her."

Kate's shoulders slump as she exhales a heavy sigh, the weight of their situation bearing down on her. Yelena squeezes her wife’s hand gently.

"What happens when we go through a long, miserable custody battle over this, then she's suddenly sixteen and wants to go sleep at her dad's because we did something to piss her off?”

"Nothing. She goes to sleep at her dad's. Because that's her choice. As long as it's her choice, it's fine. But we shouldn't force her into a situation that makes her clearly unhappy." Yelena takes a beat, thinking. "What if we don't have to go to court? What if we all sit down and talk about it?"

Kate lets out a bitter laugh.

"Yel, please."

"It could work."

"When have you two ever been in a room where the situation doesn't end with me stopping you from killing each other?"

"I can't exactly kick his ass right now, so...different circumstances. I mean, I probably still could, but unless I had to, I wouldn't."

"I love her and I love you, but I'm not doing it. I'm not going to detonate a bomb we don't even need to touch."

---

The next morning. Yelena finds herself perched on a booth in a bustling café, the air filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the animated chatter of the early lunchtime crowd. She grimaces and shifts restlessly, her hand instinctively soothing the spot where her daughter just delivered a formidable fighter-style kick.

"You need to cut it with that."

Yelena mutters, chastising the baby before taking a cautious sip of her decaf concoction. Her eyes remain glued on the café entrance as she anxiously awaits the arrival of the person she's meeting.

Thankfully, Yelena's anticipation is short-lived. The jingling bell above the door heralds the arrival of Tom, who enters the busy room and immediately starts scanning the patrons. Spotting Yelena, he makes his way to her booth. Their eyes meet and they exchange perfunctory nods before muffled, forced greetings escape their lips. Tom drapes his coat over the back of his chair and slides into the padded bench. Yelena's gaze remains fixed on the table, trying to conceal her agitation.

This close to him, Yelena can smell the alcohol on his breath. He doesn't appear visibly intoxicated, yet the unmistakable odor of Vodka taints the air around them, lingering like a cloud and a troubling reminder of his choices. It's barely 11:30 AM. This meeting is already off to a bad start.

"Hi. Thank you for meeting me."

"What's this about?"

"Look, I know things haven't always been easy between us." Tom remains silent and stoic, his expression guarded as he waits to see where this will go. Yelena’s attempts to conceal her unease only amplifies it. She's never been good at masking her genuine emotions or engaging in fake pleasantries, especially in situations like this. "All we've both ever wanted is the best thing for our daughter."

"MY daughter. She's nothing of yours. Ereka is MY daughter."

Yelena bites back her tongue and fights the urge to respond to Tom’s provocatory dig. If they start getting into it less than ten sentences into the conversation, this isn't going to go anywhere.

"All we want is the best for Ereka."

"I know that's what *I* want, yeah."

Yelena's phone screen illuminates, signaling an incoming text. She glances at it briefly. It's from Kate. Aware that her wife is oblivious to the current situation she finds herself in, Yelena decides to ignore the message for the time being, already anticipating Kate's displeasure when she eventually finds out.

Tom's eyes fly to the screen. His expression hardens and he locks his jaw as his eyes zero in on the background image. It's a photograph taken during the pregnancy announcement shoot Kate insisted on having. The still captures Kate, Ereka, Russell, and a pregnant Yelena standing in a vibrant field of fall-colored trees, radiating pure joy. It undoubtedly gets under Tom’s skin.

"What do you want? Why did you call me here?" Tom presses.

"We had a conversation with Ereka last night. More like she had a conversation with us where she made a request. We...I....*I* thought maybe you and I could talk like adults about it and deal with the situation. Parent to parent."

"You're not her parent, so...if there's anything going on with my kid, Kate can talk to me about it."

"Whether you like it or not, the judge granted me legal guardianship too."

"That fucking bitch judge fucked me over. I deserved full custody."

"Tom, I don't want to fight about that. That's not why I'm here."

"Then why are we here? Why is Kate not here?"

"I told you. Because I thought you and I could have a grownup chat."

"The fuck is going on with my kid?"

"I need you to listen to me. Before you respond or do anything, I need you to listen to me. That's all I'm asking for."

"If you don't tell me right now, I'm calling Kate. She'll tell me."

"Ereka wants to modify the custody agreement."

"What?"

"Ereka doesn't want to have overnight visits anymore. She doesn't feel comfortable being in your home, witnessing your family's behavior, and also just being away from us and her siblings. She made that very clear."

"My baby's twelve. She can't want or have a say in anything." Tom pounds his fist on the table violently, rocking everything and forcing all eyes in the room to turn to them for a split second. "If I find out you've been filling my kid's head with crap...I swear to fucking god I will end you."

"Ereka's happiness and well-being should be our priority."

"YOU…" Tom’s pointer finger comes within an inch of Yelena’s face. She musters every bit of self-control in order to not grab it and break it clean. "…don't get to tell me what my priority with my daughter is. She's MY kid and she comes home to me."

"That's not going to happen anymore."

“What? What’s not gonna happen?”

"I'm not forcing Ereka to do something she doesn't want to do."

"Try to take my kid away from me...see how that goes. You already stole my wife. You try to take my kid too and that's the last thing you ever do."

Yelena's demeanor takes on a sharper edge, her expression a mix of fury and defiance. Tom sneers, his eyes narrowing as he fiercely locks his eyes with Yelena.

"Are you threatening me?" Yelena asks, her tone challenging.

Tom leans forward, his voice dripping with venomous assurance.

"I'm telling you what's going to happen if Ereka isn't at my house this weekend. ALL weekend. Just a very clear warning."

"If she doesn't want to go, she's not going to go."

Yelena holds firm, unwavering. Tom's face contorts with rage, his entire body giving off menacing energy.

"If you come between me and my kid, I will fucking end you. I'll fucking kill you."

The remark hangs heavy in the air.

"That's a threat.” Yelena retorts, her voice calm and steady.

"Take that however you fucking want, but Ereka better be at my house at 10 AM on Saturday."

Tom abruptly stands, frenziedly ripping his coat off the back of the chair, and storms out of the café.

---

Kate's fingers fly across the keyboard and the rapid clacking of keys punctuate the silence of her office. She’s fully immersed, pouring her focus into crafting this proposal.

A firm knock on the door jolts Kate out of her flow. She recognizes the cadence of the thumping instantly - it’s her assistant. Annoyance flickers across her face, knowing this interruption will disrupt her momentum.

"What's up, Ash?"

Her assistant pops her head in while offering a courteous grin.

"Your wife is here."

Kate looks at her confused, with her brows furrowed in surprise.

"What?"

"Lobby just called. I told them to let her up so she's on her way. Should I let her in?"

"Yeah. Of course. Yeah. Thank you."

---

A few minutes later, a second knock reverberates through the office. Kate also recognizes this rapping without reticence - it unmistakably belongs to Yelena. The corners of Kate’s lips curl and her face lights up as she watches the door swing open, revealing her visibly pregnant wife standing there.

Their eyes meet and the mere sight of Yelena erases any trace of the stress and preoccupation Kate felt moments ago. She promptly pushes her chair back, eager to greet her wife.

"This is a nice surprise." As soon as the door closes behind her, Kate presses her lips against Yelena's in a tender, affectionate kiss while her hands instinctively come to rest on either side of Yelena's stomach. Kate steals a second kiss. "Hi."

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"I did something...and I could've waited until tonight, but I also didn't know if you were going to get a call or text before that, so I figured it might be best to talk in person."

Kate's smile fades as she reads the somber expression on Yelena's face. Concern fills her eyes as she responds.

"What happened?"

"Can we sit? My back is killing me."

"Yeah. Yeah. Of course."

Kate places an allaying hand on the small of Yelena’s back, guiding her towards the two-person couch opposite her desk. They settle on the sofa and Yelena shifts her body slightly, opening herself up to face Kate directly.

"Not going to lie, I'm kind of very nervous right now. You never just show up at my office, especially not being cryptic."

A touch of humor paints Kate’s voice as she tries to ease the tension. She surveys her wife’s face, searching for answers.

"I talked to Tom."

"You did…what?" Kate asks, aghast at the mere idea.

"I called him and asked him to meet me at a coffee shop earlier. We talked about the custody situation because I don't think..."

"Why would you do that?!"

"Because I don't think she should go back if she doesn't want to."

Kate's voice rises with frustration and disbelief.

"No, no. What you want, what you REALLY want is to 'beat' him. That's what you want...You should've stayed out of my kid's custody business."

"YOUR kid?" Yelena scoffs bitterly. "Are you taking talking points from him now?"

"It was NOT your place to do that." Kate's eyes narrow as she retorts, her tone sharp and accusatory.

"He threatened to kill me."

"Yeah, I'd do the same if someone showed up talking about taking my daughter away from me. What would you do?"

"If I were an incompetent, insane drunk, I would want what's best for my children."

Kate's vexation intensifies, and she stands up, putting distance between them. She walks to her desk and starts to pace in front of it. The room feels tense, the air heavy with unspoken indignation from both sides.

"I asked you to leave it. I told you to leave it alone."

"She shouldn't..."

"You can make unilateral decisions about what kind of jelly you pick up at the store. You don't get to make unilateral decisions about custody shit, Yelena. I can't believe I'm having to even say this to you."

"I was doing what's best for her."

"No. NO, this was your chance to have another pissing contest with him and use her as an excuse. She's not a thing you use to get back at him."

"That's not what happened."

"That's EXACTLY what happened. She's my daughter and you are WAY out of line. Neither of you has claim over her."

Yelena's expression becomes steely.

"I only wanted to fill you in before I went to the police."

Kate's eyes shoot up and widen as she stares Yelena down.

"What are you talking about?"

"He made pointed threats against our family, so I'm filing a police report and requesting an emergency restraining order against him. For all of us. I already called the school and let them know he's not allowed to see her until further notice."

"If you don't wanna be signing divorce papers too, you leave this alone. I'll talk to him and this'll be done. We'll pretend it didn't happen."

"I can't do that, Kate.” Yelena’s resolve strengthens and her voice is firm.

"Yelena, I'm being so beyond serious right now. Drop it."

"I'm sorry, Kate, but I can't in good conscience leave it open for him to harm our family."

Kate's frustration boils over, and she strikes her hand down on the desk.

"WE WOULDN'T BE HERE IF YOU HADN'T PULLED THIS SHIT! I told you...I asked you not to touch it. And what did you do? Go behind my back and blow our entire lives up. For what? FOR WHAT?!"

"For Ereka."

"Don't. Do not use her as an excuse. This is all on you."

Kate reaches for her phone, her fingers negligibly trembling as she taps on the screen. She brings the device to her ear, determined to undo whatever Yelena just set in motion.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling him. Controlling the situation before this gets out of hand."

"Kate, that's..."

Kate interrupts her curtly, her words teeming with aggravation.

"Don't talk to me right now."

The call goes to voicemail. Kate's impatience grows, but she tries once more.

"Katherine."

The utterance of her full name makes Kate glare at her wife, her eyes flashing warning signs that Yelena is willingly ignoring.

When the call goes to voicemail once more, Kate jumps into action. She reaches for her purse and heads to the door, her movements swift and purposeful.

"Where are you going?"

"To find him. And Yelena...if you file that report or a restraining order, you might as well also start looking for a divorce attorney because I'm not playing this game with you. I won’t. We are OVER if you do."

Without uttering another word, Kate stomps out of the office, leaving Yelena alone. The weight of their strained relationship hangs heavily in the air, thickening it with unresolved tension.

---

A few hours later. The front door to the apartment swings open with a burst of energy, and Kate ushers her lively children inside. Laughter and the pitter-patter of tiny feet fill the air, infusing the space with a tangible joy and warmth. Like a conductor orchestrating the symphony of their homecoming, Kate deftly navigates the chaos and issues detailed instructions, guiding Ereka and Russell through their tasks for the evening. As the children settle into their respective activities, Kate makes her way to the bedroom to change into more cozy clothes.

Kate turns the doorknob and freezes in her tracks. Not only is her wife already home, but she’s immersed in an intense flurry of activity. Once a sanctuary of peace, the room is now a battlefield of chaos. Clothes and shoes are strewn haphazardly across the floor, like casualties of a tempestuous storm. Before a symbol of order and serenity, the walk-in closet now stands open, its contents spilling out in disarray, mirroring the turmoil that has taken hold of their lives. The atmosphere crackles with an electric tension, as if the very walls hold their breath, knowing they’re about to witness the unfolding drama.

There, in the thick of the chaos she created, stands Yelena. Her movements are frenetic, driven by an urgency that cannot be ignored. She hastily stuffs clothes into a suitcase, the rustling fabric punctuating the charged silence that fills the room. As their eyes meet, a kaleidoscope of emotions dance across their faces. Upon seeing Kate, Yelena's hands momentarily freeze before she resumes her frantic packing. With firm resolve, the rhythmic zip of the luggage bag serves as an intransigent punctuation mark, echoing with profound finality that pulsates throughout the living quarters.

"What are you doing?"

"When it actually came down to me and him, you picked him." Yelena utters, cold and distant.

Kate explosively thrusts their bedroom door shut and charges over to Yelena, feeling a wave of anger detonate within her.

"I didn't pick ANYONE. I picked sanity and peace. For them. They will always be my priority." Kate crosses her arms over her chest and stares at the floor, mind racing. A long beat and a million thoughts later, she scoffs. "After everything...'you picked him.' If *this*..." Kate spiritedly points around their room. "If THIS is what 'picking him' looks like Yelena, then I'm curious what you think 'picking you' would entail. Because fuck...WOW."

Yelena crams one last pair of pants into the already overstuffed duffle bag that sits next to the hefty suitcase she just filled. Her tense body struggles to force the zipper halves to meet; its bulging shape evidence of her lack of thoughtfulness while packing. The fabric strains against the zipper, resisting her efforts to contain its contents. After a few firm yanks, the metallic teeth reluctantly interlock, sealing her belongings within. Yelena grabs the handle of the large rolling bag before slinging the strap of her duffle over her shoulder, and a sudden surge of adrenaline propels her forward in the direction of the door.

Before she can make her escape, Kate's hand shoots out as Yelena storms past her. Her fingers find their mark, latching on to Yelena's forearm, their grip like a vice, anchoring her in place. Their eyes lock in a fiery exchange, a tempest of emotions brewing within their depths and threatening to consume them both.

"Where are you going?"

Yelena points to the envelope resting atop the dresser. Kate retrieves it, her jittery fingers slowly tearing it open. Inside lies an emergency restraining order against Tom accompanied by a police report.

"I'm keeping them safe. At any cost." The women glare at each other. Kate takes a step back, willingly putting distance between them. Her heart pounds in her chest as she meets Yelena's gaze. They’re now locked in a battle of wills. "I'm taking him with me."

"You're not taking him anywhere."

"We're just going to the Ritz for a few nights. Until we can figure out what's happening next."

"Yelena, my son's not leaving this apartment."

A clash of emotions thunders through the room, their conflicting desires colliding into a torrent of raw feelings.

"If Ereka is YOUR daughter, then that's MY son. That's how it works, right?"

"You're being petty about this?"

"I'm being logical."

Yelena's words cut through the air, her tone shifting to cold and calculated. Each syllable carries a sharpness that slices through their relationship's already fraying threads, leaving an icy tension behind.

"You're not even in the same universe as logical right now."

"Must be pregnancy brain, I guess." Yelena bites back.

Kate’s patience officially reaches its breaking point. She truculently strides to where Yelena stands, her steps exuding steadfastness. In a display of unyielding and assertive belligerence, Kate snatches the duffle bag from Yelena's shoulder, ripping it away without hesitation. With a single speedy motion, Kate hurls the bag several feet away, the velocity causing the already tenuous hold the zipper had to give way. The contents spill out, scattering haphazardly across the floor.

"Sit." The word hangs in the air, pregnant with authority. What Kate uttered wasn’t a request; it was a command and one that left no room for negotiation. When Yelena doesn’t move, Kate's tone grows more forceful, compelling her to comply. "Sit down." Kate reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. She dials a number with exigency. "I'm calling Landers, see if he can squeeze us in as an emergency right now."

"I don't need a therapy session. I need to go lie down."

"Bed's right there. Help yourself." Kate snaps at Yelena with a venomous undertone. "Hi Janey. This is Kate Bishop-Belova. I have a bit of a serious situation and I'm wondering if there's any way Joy can see us tonight? It's an emergency...Uhum...Uhum...Yeah. Please. That would be so helpful...Yeah. This number is fine...You're incredible. Thank you...Okay. Talk soon." Kate hangs up. "She doesn't know if tonight will be possible, but she'll talk to Landers and see if maybe tomorrow morning might work."

Yelena scoffs dismissively, her irritation evident.

"This is stupid."

"Yeah, I agree. Everything you've done today is BEYOND stupid."

"I already made a reservation."

"I couldn't give two shits about your reservation. Sit down. You are not blowing up our lives tonight. I'm not letting it happen."

"You're the one who brought up divorce."

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S BEING INSANE!" Kate screams, her voice cracking with emotion. "I can't talk to you right now, or I might say some things that I don't actually mean."

"Then let me go to the hotel."

"You're not going anywhere." Kate's words carry the significance of an ultimatum as she makes for the door. "I need to figure out dinner. What do you want?" Kate asks in an attempt to shift the focus away from their escalating argument.

"Nothing." Yelena's response is curt and indifferent.

"Pizza it is."

With that final declaration, Kate exits the room and shuts the door with a bang.

---

The sound of rushing water fills the air. Kate stands at the kitchen sink, dangling Russell in front of the open tap as she diligently works to wash away the splatters of paint that have found their way onto his tiny hands. The colorful streaks mix with the swirling water, creating a mesmerizing spectacle and carrying away the colorful remnants of his artistic escapade. Lost in her task and the words of the babbling boy, Kate momentarily forgets the apprehension that saturates the apartment.

But then she hears adult footsteps approaching from behind, disrupting the tranquil rhythm of the moment. Kate turns, her eyes widening as she sees Yelena purposefully making her way to the entrance, her duffle bag slung over her shoulder and her suitcase clutched tightly in her hand. A surge of panic courses through Kate, pushing her to act without a moment's hesitation. She swiftly shuts off the water and sets Russell down, his little feet pattering on the tiled floor as he toddles away, overjoyed that his paint-streaked hands are forgotten for the moment. Filled with a sense of impending doom, Kate compels her bare feet to glide across the kitchen tiles as she chases after Yelena.

"Hey. Hey. Was I not clear?"

"I'm not your child, Kate."

"You're acting like it." Refusing to let Yelena slip away unchallenged, Kate corners her wife in the foyer and plants herself firmly mere inches away from her. "Go back to the room. Pizza's going to be here in forty minutes."

"I'm going to the hotel."

"No, you're not."

Kate’s voice hardens, drawing a line in the sand. They glare at each other.

"Are you going to back me up on this?"

"No. You're wrong, so I'm not. I'm still not letting you leave because you're being beyond unreasonable. I'm not letting this get worse than it already is."

Yelena tries to push to the door, but Kate stands her ground, blocking her path with her body.

"Katherine..."

"I'm trying to stop you from fucking up this marriage."

"What if I don't want you to?"

They lock eyes, each searching for answers in the depths of the other’s gaze.

"Now you're just trying to piss me off. I know you too well. Go lie down. I'll send one of them to get you when food is here." Yelena doesn't move. "Who do I call to get rid of that stupid restraining order?"

"You can't end a protective order I requested."

"Then do it. Take care of it."

"No."

Yelena is resolute. Kate takes a measured, deep breath, making a concerted effort to keep herself centered.

"Yelena…”

"We've done it your way for years. It's never worked. It's about time we try it my way."

"I'm not backing you up on this. Get rid of it."

"No." Yelena repeats, somehow even more unwavering.

"You know what...fine. You want to destroy our lives this bad...be my guest." Kate finally relents. She steps back, giving Yelena all the space she needs to open the door and leave. After a beat of stillness, Yelena opens the door and walks out. Kate stands by, flummoxed, her heart heavy with incredulity and heartbreak. "I want you to be so very clear that you're the one doing this. You're the one walking away. Again. You're leaving a second time." Kate's voice quivers with a mix of anger and hurt. That stops Yelena in her tracks. "You said you'd never do that again. You promised and I believed you, so what is this? You promised."

With a heavy sigh, Kate steps away from the entrance, retreating back into the apartment but leaving the door wide open.

---

As Kate attends to the remnants of Russell's mess, the faint sound of the front door closing reaches her ears, stirring her from her thoughts. She turns her head, her attention abruptly drawn to the entrance. Her heart withers at the conclusive thud that reverberates through the air. To her amazement, seconds later, Yelena emerges from the foyer. Their eyes briefly connect in a charged moment before Yelena clenches her jaw tightly and strides deeper into the apartment, vanishing down the hallway that leads to their shared bedroom. Not long after, a resounding boom fills the air as the door is violently slammed shut, further emphasizing the growing chasm between them.

Lost in a maelstrom of emotions that threaten to engulf her whole, Kate's eyes linger on that hallway. Russell takes advantage of her distraction, seizing the opportunity to indulge himself. In a sudden burst of movement, the boy leans forward with a rascally grin and his tiny hands break the water's surface. The cold liquid splashes in all directions, showering the immediate area, including a generous dousing directly onto Kate's face. The shock of the gelid liquid snaps Kate back to reality with a gasp, her senses jolted by the sudden and unexpected intrusion. The temperature forces her breath to catch in her throat while droplets cling to her skin and drip down her face. It is a moment of undeniable clarity, a gentle reminder that life persists even in the midst of turmoil.

At least there's still a way back. It's cracked but not shattered. There's still a way to fix it.

[battle-of-alberta]

Can you tell me more about the wildlife in alberta? there seems to be lots of it! I heard there used to be bison? Have the bison come back or are they extinct now?

Parks Pass: What are Bison?

I've been working on this for well over a month, although I've been thinking about it since I received this ask last fall. Bison are so central and important in prairie history, ecology, spirituality, etc. and I feel that they exemplify this more than perhaps any other living thing here... I don't think I will go this in depth into other wildlife for this series.

I am not a naturalist nor do I represent Parks Canada or related organizations, all of this information has been sourced through reports from Parks Canada, organizations like CPAWS, etc. There are a lot of questions surrounding ecology, legalities, and reconciliation with Indigenous peoples that I just am not equipped to answer by myself... but I wanted to give as clear an overview as I could of the challenges and successes around bison in Alberta.

More notes, close ups, etc. below. I will try to link to some sources in the notes as a reblog.

I tried my best to make each panel stand mostly on its own so that you could read them in any order, but I hope there is a bit of a flow to the information... The pieces were slightly bigger than my scanner, so I apologize for some blurry writing and cropped edges!

(yak left, bison centre, buffalo right) (You will find all three domestic in Alberta, at least at agricultural fairs if not commercially)

[ badum tishhhhhhh]

I tried to get the moose and our guides to scale physically, but it was tricky! Also: the summer ochre cape tends to appear on male plains bison.

There is debate as to whether wood and plains bison should be classified as separate species at all. The fact is, there remains a legal distinction in Alberta that will become relevant in a few panels.

This safety tip is if you're on foot- in a car, obviously stay in your vehicle! Don't attempt to drive through bison either, just let them pass!

The "Ecology" title got cut here, my apologies.

Some other ways bison improve the ecosystem is by literally rolling around and trampling on the landscape, the churning of the land and the fertilization from buffalo dung helps plants and insects thrive, which in turn benefits all creatures along the food chain. Cows do not nearly replace the magnitude to which bison benefit the prairie.

Often in school, the sole fact one might learn about the First Nations of the plains involves a diagram of all the uses of each part of a bison. These descriptions have almost always been in the past tense, in order to place Indigenous peoples and their ways of life purely in the past. This is not a reflection of reality- many Indigenous folks in Alberta are still maintaining their traditions and their relationships with bison today. The tee pee here is based off of a Blackfoot design featured at the Royal Alberta Museum. Also pictured is a drying rack of meat, and a bison stomach suspended as a cooking pot. Pemmican is often described these days as a "superfood" or the ultimate protein bar; it is a mixture of dried meat and berries that both preserves well and is extremely nourishing.

It is difficult to summarize the impacts of colonization in a short space, especially where bison are concerned. The creation of Treaty 7 in Alberta, particularly, was a result of an intentional and devastating eradication of the bison by settlers. This forced First Nations such as the Blackfoot Confederacy into impossible positions: follow the buffalo into the United States and risk attack from the Americans or the Sioux as the herds became smaller and smaller, or to agree to the Canadian government's terms to stay on a fraction of their traditional territories in order to keep from starving to death.

At the same time, anthropologists, collectors, and tourists tried to buy or take anything they could get their hands on from what they perceived as the end of an era: salvage anthropology of First Nations in the West painted an image of "pure" native culture that was about to be lost forever, while First Nations peoples were being forcibly assimilated, excluded, or eradicated by settlers.

There is still a lack of understanding in mainstream settler Canadian culture of the human labour that went into the creation of the "natural" "wilderness" of this land. This is something that the settlement, the industrialization, and the creation of national parks in Alberta and elsewhere ignores or erases, but there is a growing awareness and acknowledgement of the relationship between First Peoples and the land.

The prairie ecosystem remains extremely endangered and little understood, especially as environmental activism tends to focus on deforestation or pollution of the ocean rather than the destruction of native grasses and shrubs.

Cameo ft. Mac representing Wood Buffalo National Park, which spans the border of the Northwest Territories and Alberta. Obviously, the main cause of environmental destruction surrounding the park involves human industrial activity: logging, mining, and development of the oil patch. Disease can be easily transmitted between bison and cattle and can easily wipe out already struggling populations.

I was shocked to discover that all bison were considered livestock as recently as two years ago and could thus be harvested by anyone, anytime, and anywhere outside a protected area. Plains bison still do not have status as "wildlife".

The province did recently expand the "buffer zone" outside of Banff National Park, giving the Park a chance to recover bison that have wandered outside of the barriers before they become 'fair game', as it were.

Also worth noting: B.C. and Saskatchewan both protect bison under their provincial wildlife acts, but plains bison leaving those provinces and entering Alberta or Manitoba would be considered livestock as they are unprotected.

Elk Island stocks bison across the continent and around the world, which is incredible! Not all of those original 700 were sent to Elk Island, unfortunately those sent to what was once Buffalo National Park did not make it.

Likewise, a project to reintroduce bison to Jasper didn't bear fruit. An article via Jasper Local I had found earlier (that no longer seems to work) describes the discovery of a bison skull at Talbot Lake that most likely represents a bison from this recent reintroduction attempt.

The Banff bison reintroduction pilot (2017-2022) is the most recent attempt to reintroduce bison to areas of Alberta, and so far from the initial Spring 2023 report one of the more successful projects. Public sentiment both locally and internationally is very positive, with a lot of attention on social media, articles, and other outreach methods. The project is also partnering closely with all the First Nations in Treaty 7, as well as other community stakeholders such as visitors to the park, local residents, nearby ranchers, etc.

Phew, I just threw a ton of info at you! I hope this answers the question :)

[shallowoak]

Design Chatter - MLP Grand Line Gang!

>> Link to the art here! <<

I really enjoyed rambling about the East Blue Crew, so I'm back again to talk your ears off about the rest of the crew now that I've finally posted them! Once again, fair warning that this will be long and there will be spoilers!

I kept a few simple guidelines for myself in mind:

Keep it fun and surprising, in the spirit of the original!

I draw in the G4 style, but features from every gen and toy line are fair game

I love back card / blind bag style character blurbs. I live for crumbs of worldbuilding XD

I've purposefully not included cutie marks because I suck at drawing them and I'd never finish a piece if I had to draw them :v (maybe a post for another time?)

🌸Chopper🌸

In-universe:

Further than the Crystal Empire, even beyond Yakyakistan, Chopper hails from the frozen north. A skilled potion maker, he loves to brew warm healing tonics with ingredients found on the mountain. He's hoping he can learn to skywalk like the Reindeer in Robin's books!

Design:

Every now and again, it's nice to do a 1:1 translation of a character rather than a full reimagining! Reindeer appear in G4 during the special Best Gift Ever, so it's the little changes that make Chopper 'ponified'- the lighter patches on his face, ears and tummy. The swirls in his inner ears. Changing his hoof/antler colour to be just a little more pink. One thing I did add was little baby deer spots shaped like blossom for an extra pop of colour!

I chose to draw him in Defence Point because it's cuter 🥺 my mind also thought to draw Brain Point in the Equestria Girls style and I'm not sure the world is ready for that 😂 Defence Point was also supposed to harken back to a popular fluffy fan character- before I found out their creator isn't someone I want to be celebrating. But you live and learn when trying to reference fandom culture 🤷

📚Robin📚

In-universe:

Many hooves make light work! Having studied at the Mythica University and Golden Oak libraries alike, this magic scholar always has a spell to get her crew out of a pinch! During her travels, the wily CP9 tried restraining her magic with a tennis ball!

Design:

Hm. Put into pony form, Robin kind of looks like Twilight. Similar key colours and hairstyles can't really be avoided. I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing, though. Something about this combination must just give off 'bookish'! Besides, there are plenty of character foils to Twilight that look like her in canon, too. Moondancer, Sunset, Starlight... Robin could fall into this category- a promising student led astray by forces beyond her control. It certainly isn't easy being a magic student.

Rather than an odd outward appearance, Robin's fear factor is based on people's perceptions of her abilities. I feel like she's similar to Nami in looking normal and still getting demonised. Left to her own devices, she just likes to travel and study! So I didn't want to give her a super edgy design and feed into those misconceptions. Robin is at her coolest when she chooses to be wicked for herself!

She's a normal pony, but she's still a little more dark and mysterious than someone like Twilight. That sweeping black mane, heavy hooves, and curved horn—not to mention that colourful glint in her eye—make her sturdier than a Unicorn like Sanji, and her calm confidence lets you know it! I like to think Nami has inspired her to look into getting a big flowery leg design, but she's a little worried about being even more recognisable.

⭐Franky⭐

In-universe:

Self-acceptance and found family are super! Building each other up is almost as satisfying as building new airships... almost. This loud n' proud Griffon makes Canterlot cruisers and Ornithian pirate ships alike! Lately, within the crew, he's been helping Usopp come to terms with being a Cutie Mark-less creature. Every creature has worth and is deserving of love, with or without a mark!

Design:

Franky just kinda washed up from somewhere and that really ignited my imagination when it came to his appearance. From the start, I was adamant that he should be a creature with 'fingers'. There's something about crafting with your hands that can't be recreated with Unicorn magic.

MLP Griffons are known for their strong personalities and love of precious metals- so I thought one was a great fit for the unapologetic, totally authentic Franky! This larger body also gives him more space to customise, more feathers and fluff to style!

Horse noses are very closely linked to the shape of their mouths, so having the top half of his beak be metal avoided a lot of weird imagery. His pre-time skip design shows less of his cyborg nature, but being able to use bird forelegs definitely helped to dampen the weirdness of his bulky arms more than the noodly legs of a pony. Without the differentiation between fore and upper leg, I think he'd just look swollen! Besides, you do not want to take a strong right with added claws 😬

I think it's definitely easier to imagine a solo Griffon making ships than a solo pony! His large wings and long tail help keep him safe and balanced while he works high up, and his muscular back limbs help shift heavy materials. Those back legs are coloured to look like his Speedo, as they appear less fluffy than the rest of him.

🎶Brook🎶

In-universe:

This lifelong sailor knows no pony is an island. Music can bring every creature and animal on the seas together- if only you stop to listen ❤️ All our paths are bound to cross again one day, even if the seas are wide! Magic works in mysterious ways, no bones about it!

Design:

I felt that if I was going to go to the effort of drawing a full pony skeleton, I didn't want to then cover my hard work up with clothes. Now I'm thinking I should've- the structure on those limbs was hard to draw! I looked at real horse skellies, the Hidden Dissectibles figures, and even the 'Don't Mine at Night' MLP crossover parody song... None of it made it any easier 😂 would not recommend.

Seeing as there wasn't much I could do with his base design, I decided instead to add to it! In the climax of the Rainbow Rocks movie, the Siren villains summon giant magical projections of themselves to attack. This reminded me of Brook's soul leaving his body- so that's what I drew! Though it doesn't have any mind control powers, I still wouldn't advise touching this frosty apparition... or any of the sound waves it produces!

☀️Jinbei☀️

In-universe:

Design:

Keeps up with 'current' affairs! This sagely Seapony is a pillar of the community as well as Equestria! He helps the crew stay on course (emotionally and literally) as the world changes and expands around them- it's always an exciting time both above and below the surface!

I should've been more forward-thinking and drawn him up for Mermay! Seaponies have a long history with the MLP universe, appearing alongside their land counterparts at the start of G1- a fact I think is very fitting for his character. Of course, Jinbei's design is based on Whale Sharks, and Fishmen/Merfolk as a whole are so unique with how they can be designed. Seaponies too are different in every generation- so I had a lot of fun incorporating as many unique elements as I could!

I couldn't exactly make a horse wide and flat to mimic a Whale Shark's body as he does in his canon appearance, so I decided instead to lean in more to the cute spots and shark-shaped tail fin! Then I extended his sideburns to create a softer border between his body colours and to add back some visual interest lost by removing the large membrane fin G4 Seaponies have. Jinbei is already pretty hefty and strong, so a little extra fluff doesn't noticeably slow him down.

It's certainly more difficult to imagine hair as fins; they're so much more rigid. Without individual strands or the ability to curl like natural hair, it's a lot harder to suggest diverse textures. But I still think the semi-transparent look is a lot of fun to look at and layer, and it helps his blonde streaks stand out!

Though I could've put the sun brand on his flank, it just didn't look or feel right when we're so used to seeing it on his chest. Seaponies don't usually get their own marks, and the sun is a widely used symbol of freedom. Leaving his flank free still gives me the option of giving him a unique mark in the future- he's still a prominent individual in his own right!