#and i can just see the potential for even more

[pileofblanks]

Reminds me of some of the stories ive heard about people living under the czech protectorate (under the german nazi regime). Obviously there were many large scale protests, demonstrations and the such, secret radios sharing both true and untrue information (wether to throw spies off or to give people extra hope), but there were also jokes, anecdotes, codes, spreading of illegal literature and magazines, and of course. Weaponised incompetence with plausible deniability!

The trains that are supposed to have some pretty important people on them, being delayed an hour or so? Ah you know how it is with trains, things just happen sometimes, the weather got funky and messed up the schedules you know how it is. (Definetly not someone intentionally messing things up!)

Granades occasionally not exploding, or weapons sometimes malfunctioning? Eh must have been a mistake somewhere in the factory, you know how it is with cheaper labor, accidents just happen (and it definetly wasnt because multiple employees have decided that they will make some equpiments intentionally faulty, potentially saving someones life, without giving themselves away).

A factory not producing the maximum amounts of product? Huh, they must be having a lax day, or are just being lazy or something, i mean its already almost the weekend, maybe some accident happened they had to deal with, who knows (ignore how they sometimes when no-ones looking agree to works slower at certain times. Still work so no-one gets caught....just........slower......)

Saw something illegal? No you didnt. Know someone of a minority? No you dont. You might not have even heard of that being a thing. Someone was doing something suspicious? Oh you didnt notice anything like that at all. Someone you know was in the protest? No they weren't. You didnt even know there was a protest in the first place.

And this one's less of an incompetence thing but still worth noting - when a film with nazi propaganda in it was being played, when things eventually came to the part with hitler in it, people would start chatting loudly, and doing so drowning out any propaganda. Of course, the nazis quickly caught on and disallowed that.

So the people instead of chatting, whenever hitler showed up, they collectivelly decided to start cheering, clapping, hooting and hollering so loud, that it again drowned out anything being actually said, but this time the guards didntbkniw what to do. I mean, look at them! Thats just an excited crowd, stoked to see their leader. Why would you stop that?

And im sure there are many many more stories like that.

If you can, dont be a cog in the machine at all. But if you have to be a cog, be a cog that works well most of the time but sometimes.....it may budge a little, buck under the pressure, go a bit slower, not have enough oil, doesnt sometimes turn.... but most of the time it works fine. I mean are you sure it was even that cog that was messing things up? Could have been any of the other ones..... stuff like that.

So anyways with the rapid rise of fascism I feel it’s a good time to point out that it’s perfectly legal to follow unjust orders slowly, badly, or inefficiently

[nemisuki]

𐔌✧.* ʀᴜᴍᴏʀꜱ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ೀ⋆ || When hiding your secret relationship leads to sneaky note passing and cutting classes ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

. ♬ ݁˖ || inspo song : spotify version & yt version ᯓ★

ᝰ.ᐟ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, pure fluff, physical touch, 1.4k word count •°. *࿐

Physical affection was certainly not what she expected from her grumpy classmate of all people.

Going out with the short-fused blonde undeniably led her to uncover the secrets behind the irritable third year — her secret boyfriend — and all the desires he truly craved from the depths of his soul.

Despite the boy being quick tempered, he had a side to him that she never would've imagined, a strong yearning to stay close to her.

She honestly found it a bit cute; how his unwavering gaze would always be on her from across the classroom, as if drowning out the murmurs of everyone else and solely focusing her.

Only to play it off when she asks him about it later, mumbling stuff like "Tch, you're just seeing things" or "I wasn't starin' idiot, something was in my eye."

But what he can't find an excuse for is when he'd subtly — at least what he considers 'subtle' — toss a crumpled ball of paper in her direction, the crushed parchment hitting her foot with a plop!

Y/N jolts out of her little daydream, looking around to see the culprit but is met with classmates either dozing off or paying attention to the lecture ahead.

All but one that is.

His crimson gaze bores into hers, flickering back and forth between her and the ball of paper, a silent message in his eyes as he returns his stare to the front of the classroom.

She slowly picks it up, carefully undoing the sheet to read the little note — his neat handwriting on full display — the blonde's words, no doubt blunt and straight to the point.

𓉘rooftop. lunch. be there.𓉝

It took all her strength to not burst out in laughter right that second, I mean, could he be any more cliche?

Her racing heart rate wasn't any more help with the situation, feeling elated at the romantic thought; that he'd want to spend even more of their free time together.

This continued for some time, Katsuki randomly handing her notes throughout the morning before lunch, giving her daily updates for where he'd like to see her next.

Sometimes it would be the field, an empty classroom or even the relatively empty library.

But her favorite was definitely the rooftop — and it seemed to be his as well — often meeting to have their mid-day meal under the warm sun and blue sky, away from all the prying eyes of friends and other students.

This time however, when they should be in class, she finds herself sneakily walking up the steps to meet him, after all, he was never really fond of study hall.

He frowns as she enters his line of sight, narrowed crimson eyes and all, looking at her as if she greedily took her time.

"You're late."

She sheepishly smiles, quietly closing the door behind her with caution.

"I'm sorry Katsuki! Deku was rambling on about potential improvements for my hero outfit, so I couldn't just leave midway—"

He scoffs.

"Course ya' can, it's the damn nerd! Told you to stop asking Izuku for help in the first place."

Y/N can almost see the waves of jealousy radiating off him at the mention of their green haired friend, no doubt about it as he takes a seat, his shoulders looking more tense than usual.

She shines a teasing smile.

"Are you jealous~?"

He writhes under her stare, avoiding her gaze and grumbling with heightened defensiveness.

"Jealous of the nerd? Psh, as if! Now c'mere."

She giggles and moves to take a seat beside him.

"Alright, alright."

With newfound joy, she happily discusses random topics as they sit together, the blonde responding with an occasional comment or two as the minutes go by.

He was always relatively silent for the most part.

At any rate, she did happen to notice him inching closer, it was always a habit of his, wanting the distance between them to practically be non-existent.

"Graduation is nearly here, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous... what about you 'suki?"

He looks up to the sky with an unconcerned expression.

"I think it's finally about damn time for me to kick some villain's ass."

She smiles at his declaration, having no doubt he'll become an amazing hero after high school, however, she can't help but to feel a bit angsty at the thought of them being apart.

Once they graduate, they'll certainly have busy schedules, it won't be the same as now, always at each other's side.

The feeling makes her feel a bit sad; and he seems to catch onto her silence.

"Oi, what's wrong?"

His brows furrow, using his hand to lift her chin up, their gazes meeting and re-igniting the warmth in her body at the intimate gesture.

Katsuki Bakugo is a rough man, but at the same time, so incredibly gentle.

She leans into his palm.

"I'm just gonna miss this, you know? Being together all the time..."

"Tch, you idiot."

With an almost terrifying amount of raw strength, he easily scoops her up — with y/n yelping in shock — placing her right on his lap with pure devotion in his gaze.

Gently forcing her eyes to stay on him.

"Stop thinkin' 'bout that sappy shit, fuckin' course we're always gonna be together."

It was like the breath got sucked right out of her, pupils dilating with a mix of shock and affection, her face heating up at his serious look.

How could he say something so romantic with a straight face?

She shyly smiles, her arms wrapping around his neck, beginning to play with his — surprisingly soft — locks of hair.

"Does this mean I can work at your future agency?"

His eyes glint with something close to pride and approval, a subtle smirk ghosting over his lips as he leans closer, his gaze roaming all over her features.

"Only if ya' got what it takes. Do you?"

She chuckles, deciding to tease him and lightly rub her thumb across his mouth, feeling the plush skin underneath.

His grip on her briefly tightening in response.

"Maybeeee, is there no other way for me to be accepted~?

He bites back a smug smile, trying to act aloof as he raises a brow, only giving her butterflies in her stomach despite being the one trying to fluster him.

"You tryin' to flirt with the future boss to get yourself a position hah?"

Her breath hitches as he leans even closer, the distance between them long forgotten, her pulse reaching her ears.

The blonde scoffs.

"You outta' be punished."

She couldn't help the smile forming on her face as he closes the gap, eyes shutting closed as their lips move in unison, it was a bit funny; he speaks so rough yet his kisses are consistently tame.

His thumb gently caresses her cheek as they continue the gentle exchange of affection, her own fingers treading through his hair.

Y/N's earlier worries are now erased from her mind, because like his notes in class, his kisses have hidden messages, moving with purpose against her own.

A form of intimacy that leaves her breathless, their touches holding a thousand of unspoken words.

The moment comes to an end a few seconds later as the bell rings, signaling next period.

He reluctantly pulls away, slightly flustered, standing up and pulling her with him.

"...c'mon, we gotta go back before someone notices."

She hums, intertwining her hand with his as they descend down the stairwell, his hand tightly holding onto hers, as if making sure she won't slip away.

"I love you."

He stiffens.

Glancing back at her for a moment as they walk down the hallway of passing students — giving him the perfect coverage to protectively hold her close — looking forward with a hidden expression; one of adoration.

"...i love you too."

It was a faint mumble in the sea of chattering students, but she heard it, a bright smile appearing on her face at his words.

They returned to class just in time, letting go of each other's hand before they walked in, acting as if nothing ever happened.

Katsuki could only roll his eyes as some of their friends asked where he wandered off too, everyone suspiciously looking at y/n as well — given they entered seconds after each other — attempting to connect the pieces.

The blonde chooses to ignore such accusations, taking his seat with an annoyed frown, while y/n politely denies such claims with a 'innocent' smile.

Nevertheless, their gazes lock together even across the classroom.

Although the future may be unclear, it won't be as scary if they stay like this, soaking in their undying sentiment.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

ᴀ/ɴ ||| hi my beautiful flowers! this is a bkg fic request from anon, hope u enjoy! i didn't mean to write it this long but oh well hehe.. now time for me to go, plus ultra! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ ᴛᴀɢꜱ ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 @qyuin @sunnyalmighty (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

[authorhjk1]

I’m on a Yoona craze rn lol, hope you can make a good one out of this pls.

Mint

(Yoona X Male Reader) wordcount: 1066 words

"I feel like I'm overdressed."

Yoona looks around the store, holding onto her dress.

"You're beautiful. That's all that matters."

You give her forehead a kiss and together you round next corner.

"What do you think about this one?"

You point towards a fully equipped kitchen. The drawers are white and have golden handles, the counter is made out of white marble and the golden ceiling lights match the sink.

"I don't know. It looks kinda cold to me. Expansive and without any soul in it."

The two of you walk past it and you let your hand glide over the counter. Now that your wedding date is set, you're out to get stuff for your future house. You and Yoona are strolling through IKEA with her parents a little further behind.

"I like this one more."

Your fiancee points towards another kitchen. It has more of an older, vintage vibe to it. More wood and less steel.

"It looks good."

She walks up to the counter and lets her hands wander over it.

"This is even the perfect hight."

You know she means for cooking, but you can't help yourself.

"Yes, it is."

You whisper into her ear and slightly bend her over. For the people walking by it's barely noticeable, but Yoona gasps in fake surprise.

"Stop it, you are crazy."

She playfully slaps your arm.

The two of you continue to walk through another couple of sets of kitchens, leaving Yoona's parents even further behind.

"I like this one too."

This time she picked out one similar to the one you noticed before, but it's slightly darker and has silver highlights instead of golden ones.

"Yeah, it looks good."

You suddenly notice that the two of you aren't very close to the main aisle anymore. And no one seems to be close by. You step behind Yoona once more as she opens one of the drawers. This time you don't play around. You've been staying at her parent's house for almost a week and you didn't have any chance to enjoy some alone time with your fiancee at all. And IKEA is definitely not the right place for this either. But with a woman like Yoona there's only so much you can take.

You carefully take a hold of her waist and push her hips against the counter.

"Hey, what are you-?"

At first she thinks you're teasing her again. But she feels you pressing yourself against her. She can feel your grip on her waist. She feels your cock against her ass through your pants and her dress.

"Babe, we can't do this here."

She whispers in surprise and worry. And usually you would've agreed, but you made a decision a couple of seconds ago and you won't be able to change your mind now. It's too late.

"No one is gonna see."

Your ragged breath against her neck makes a cold shower run down her spine. And Yoona realizes that it really is too late to turn this around.

She bites her lip as you reach under her dress and she comes to peace with it that this is going to happen right now.

"I need you so bad."

You whisper into her ear as one of your hands moves upwards along one of her thighs. After finding her panties, you quickly push past them, unable to bother with any kind of foreplay.

"Oh god."

Yoona gasps in pleasure when she feels two of your fingers enter her pussy. She knows how risky this is. The two of you are in the middle of IKEA, your backs facing the main aisle and her parents could potentially walk around the corner at any moment. All of it just starts to turn her on more when you kiss her neck while you continue to move your fingers inside of her.

"I'm wet enough, just do it."

She moans, almost sounding desperate for your cock.

Usually, Yoona wouldn't let you fuck her without warming you up with her mouth first, but this time is an exception. You don't even bother with opening your pants. Just your zipper. And a moment later, your tip brushes against your fiance's wet lips.

"So good."

Yoona sighs as she feels you slowly pushing into her. Her hands are planted flat on the surface of the counter. She's bent over, ready to take your pounding. You know you have to do this quickly. And as much as you'd love to enjoy yourself, you also know that after a week of abstinence you won't last very long anyway.

You start to thrust in and out of her. Slowly at first, then a little faster. Usually, you'd love to hear the sound of your hips clapping against her cheeks, but now you make sure Yoona's dress is in between the two of you. Your grip on her hips tightens as you feel her tighten around you as well. Your pace quickens with every moan that leaves her lips. The two of you work like a well oiled machine, just like you always have.

Yoona pushes back into you, meeting every thrust of yours so you can penetrate her as deeply as possible. She bites back her moans, while you bury your head in her neck to silence yourself. She holds onto the counter to make sure the two of you stay in position, while you continue to use your strength to give her quick and deep thrusts.

"Harder."

A louder moan escapes her lips as you reach around to squeeze one of her tits through the mint coloured fabric. The two of you lose yourselves in each other's pleasure. Yoona feels your cock hit the deepest spot inside of her, while you feel her walls hugging your cock with all their strength.

But just as you predicted, it doesn't last for long. Yoona's quick, shallow breathing tells you that isn't heading for an orgasm, but is still enjoying this immensely. You on the other hand can feel your own orgasm approaching. The last couple of thrusts are powered by lust and self control and not rhythm and skill.

"I'm gonna put a baby in you."

Your raspy voice is half a threat, half a promise.

"Yes, do it."

Yoona moans for it. Begs for it.

You empty yourself inside of her pussy and she can feel your warmth flooding her body.

---------------------

Hi everyone!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Just wanted to let you guys know that the next chapter is chapter number 50. That means I won't write it for just 30 minutes, but make it longer. I will continue to this with the 100th, 150th and so on.

Stay healthy!

[wordsinhaled]

feeling Things about the intensity / enormity / all-encompassingness of love that makes edwin have his “i cannot believe you would risk your entire existence coming down to this operatic horror show for me - that is so fucking stupid, it’s unbelievable!” outburst on the steps of hell…

because god, he’s been fussing over charles the whole season whenever charles does something that could be risky, and the running theme is that it’s edwin worrying. and all of that, about charles’ impetuous behavior etc, is still so measured compared to the way that edwin gets when charles is at real risk or in real danger (like in the devlin house - frantic! - “i could lose - we could lose charles”)… it’s on such a different level

and now charles has done it again but in the worst possible place (hell) and edwin just can’t have it because! he loves him!!! in every way there is!!! he’s realized he’s in love! and it’s like. the fear that something could have happened to charles. charles who is essential to edwin. his best friend. his love. his person. and it comes out of edwin so sharp and brittle. and then immediately it’s “i’m not mad,” because it isn’t that he’s mad it’s -

how could you do this, don’t you know how precious you are???? it’s so fucking stupid, it’s unbelievable, how can it even be REAL that you put yourself at this level of risk, for me? better that i would have suffered here, and you would be safe up there, because knowing you weren’t down here in danger was the thing that made it sort of bearable and now there’s the thought that something could have happened to you down here, and the universe wouldn’t have charles rowland in it anymore.

would edwin have known? if something had happened to charles down in hell on his way to find edwin? would he have felt it somehow? or would he not know, and go on continuing to think charles was safe on the earthly plane - taking refuge in thinking charles was spared the horror show, when that wasn’t true any more, charles had gone after him, and got hurt—

unbelievable. untenable. edwin can’t even stand the thought. but he also can’t have charles believing he’s really angry with him for even a moment - it fizzles out immediately. because in the end. charles is the beloved. in every way. much as edwin wanted to keep charles safe from even the thought of or knowledge of the doll house, he’s still the one edwin deep down most wanted to see in this terrible place — and charles doesn’t even know he’s loved yet in all the ways edwin loves him. how can he continue not to know? unfathomable that edwin could keep it from him for a moment longer

also, i know it’s gotta be like, the fifteenth time i’ve talked about edwin reframing for charles that his love doesn’t come mixed with anger like charles is used to experiencing love, by unequivocally removing any anger from the moment of the confession… but like. will i ever be normal about it? no. gotta be unhinged about it one more time

the way charles is held safe in edwin’s regard as the narrative of what their relationship can potentially be evolves…

i’m just SO fine and regular about how edwin feels towards charles. how he loves him!!!!!!!

i’m fine. be fine with me!!!

[silvaurum]

"the enemy of my enemy is my friend" is a truism that is very easily disprovable. think like... rock paper scissors. sometimes the enemy of my enemy is also my enemy because there are more than two sides in a conflict.

dick cheney is not my fucking friend no matter who his enemy is. dick cheney might hate trump, but he also hates me and my friends, and he wants me dead. why would i give more power to someone who wants me dead? oh he promises he'll use it to destroy the other guy first? hmmm well surely nothing could wrong with that. surely the guy who hates me would never lie to me or use power against me. if he says he also hates another guy too, he'll definitely only hurt that other guy and not me, if i give him power and legitimacy to hurt people with. this could never backfire.

the sarcasm above is all to say: not every alliance is a strategic alliance. some alliances are just stupid

see also: it didn't even win lol. if anything the dems lost harder because of 'alliances' with right wingers who hate democratic voters. the alliance described here is not 'us and dick vs the right', its 'us vs the right, and the democrats are choosing the right apparently'

my strategy for not dying doesn't involve cozying up to people who hate me, because that seems ineffective, to put it mildly. whats the game plan? once the guy who hates me defeats the other guy who hates me, and shares power with the guys who are indifferent to my life, whats the play? whats my leverage? what makes me secure when the guy who hates me has political power and clout and the dems owe him one?

i do not need dick fucking cheneys help to not die. dick fucking cheney can go to hell and hopefully experience all the torture his oil wars inflicted on millions of people. meanwhile i will be thinking of actual personally applicable plans for my safety and the safety of my community. i have no hope a democrat coalition will save my ass at this point, because they're clearly... there's no moral or personal baseline that they will uphold. they're perfectly willing to sacrifice me and my loved ones.

that's why WE do this til WE free us. i make plans to stay safe, i look at my options, i look at what i can do for my communities. the political elite will not organize us for us. its tempting to panic and to accept their solutions and to despair right now. but while we should grieve, we can still build ourselves up. we can still learn skills and make connections and get emergency prepared. to look up and plan for some of these scary potential challenges. to ground ourselves in what we can control. learn to store food, learn how to mend and make do, get to know your neighbors, get to know your local resources. and none of this needs a single breath of input from dick fucking cheney. The Worst Person You Know might Have A Point, but that doesn't mean you sign up for their speaking tour, jesus christ

Löl

[yayasvalveplay]

I got more ideas for the Soulmate Shenanigans!

Optimus spent most of his functioning speculating on who his Sparkmate could be. There were times where he wondered if it might have been Elita and Sentinel, but that was quickly debunked when he felt nothing coming from them. Especially after Archa-7 when he knew Elita must have been in a lot of pain when they were forced to leave her behind, and he also knew that Sentinel equally felt a lot of pain.

But he got nothing off of either of them.

Then he wondered if it might have been Ultra Magnus who was always good at hiding how he really felt. Optimus wouldn't put it past him to be able to prevent his Sparkmate from feeling whatever he could have felt. But the brief moments where they were in close proximity to each other there was nothing. And with all the pain Optimus felt from Archa-7 and seeing zero reaction from Ultra Magnus had him convinced that it wasn't him either.

So he knew deep down that he probably doesn't even have a Sparkmate because he doesn't feel anything from his potential mate. Which compounds and adds on to his lack of self-worth which he doesn't realize has been reaching his Sparkmate who is so far away and constantly getting fed all of this.

And it's not like Megatron can send anything back - not until they properly meet for the first time. A lot of Starscream's assassination attempts aren't enough to even make him flinch, and his determination to find the AllSpark despite it being a futile quest doesn't cause him any despair - only determination, and his anger and frustration aren't nearly as severe enough to reach his Sparkmate.

But when that bomb Starscream planted on him goes off, that's the first time something Starscream did actually caused pain for Megatron. And the close proximity to his Sparkmate was enough to get Optimus to fall from his chair and clutch at his frame. Which has his entire crew panicking with worry over him.

Yes YES YESSSSSSSSSSS

Ahh I'm visualizing Op suddenly falling from his chair, feeling like his back had just exploded open. It takes him a minute to realize the pain wasn't his own, and by that time Megatron was already in the ship, the entire area smoking over revealing mostly his face and upper body.

Both looked at eachother as Op tried to get up, but the pain in his back it was, too much, even for him, How can, how can he stay standing like that!? He knows it's the warlord BUT STILL, HIS BACK IS OPENED SHOWING INNER PLATING.

[extremely-judgemental]

Long Post (From the Drafts)

I hate Feysand. But it’s just me hating on Feyre, really.

I struggled for so long to put this into words as I couldn’t pinpoint the exact the reason to hate this ship until recently. It isn’t because Rhysand is manipulative or Feyre turned into his trophy wife. Aside from the reenactment of the SA as the stepping stone in their relationship, my problem is solely with Feyre.

To preface this, I don’t care about romances, only the character growth resulting from it. So I don’t care whether Feyre ends up with Rhysand or Tamlin or alone, as long as she evolves.

Warnings. This is completely based on my memory of how the two relationships progressed. Because otherwise I’d have to go through the books to cite and I really, really don’t want to. As it’s hard to explain this objectively without talking about the author’s influence in the narrative, this could be also taken as more of a writing critique on how to NOT write characters falling in and out of love. Basically, it’s a jumbled mess and it took turns on its own and there will be lots of psychology talk. Also, THIS IS NOT AN INVITATION FOR SHIP WARS. Don’t bring that shit here.

The common assumption is that Feyre and Tamlin weren’t good for each other from the start, which is only partly true. The first book had just a spark of potential since more were lined up in the series exploring their relationship. Feylin falling apart was not inevitable. They definitely had strong bones to build upon.

Their relationship starts out almost whimsical, a necessary reprieve from their lives for both Tamlin and Feyre. The two come together under the worst of circumstances and grow to understand each other.

Feyre is a mortal who sees Tamlin with fresh eyes, without the stain of his reputation. And Tamlin gets to see a side of her in return, one even her family didn’t or wouldn’t acknowledge. He experiences her as a person instead of her burdens or responsibilities.

Feyre finds a kindness that she was never offered with a beast. Tamlin learns that a huntress can have a heart after all.

Their relationship was built on shared values and beliefs like compassion for other lives, intolerance towards injustices, the youngest sibling forced to take on mantles they didn’t choose for themselves. They accepted each other despite their flaws and cruel choices. They fought for each other. They endured so much for each other.

Despite all this, the romantic notes were quite lacking and physical attraction was thrown in too soon to compensate for it. This undermined the bond the two had which is often considered the proof that their relationship wasn’t real or ideal. Whereas there clearly was a beautiful connection between them, one that neither had in their lives until they found each other. Even Lucien’s friendship doesn’t compare to this as Tamlin is still his saviour which forged an unwavering trust and loyalty.

To have developed such deep bond with someone for the first time in her life, Feyre is quick to move on. She states that she fell in love with the first person who offered her kindness and presents herself as a misguided being preyed upon by someone. But in truth, none of Tamlin’s love or kindness was fake.

Feyre wasn’t safe with Tamlin, I agree. It isn’t her choice of leaving that bothers me as much as her responses. The kind of resentment Feyre harbours towards Tamlin usually comes from prolonged trauma which completely replaces every good memory in the mind. Or if the relationship was built under false pretences and the victim is forced to accept their reality. Neither is the case here.

At best, all of this—leaving UtM, the almost wedding, leaving Spring for good—happens in less than a year. And given the list of trials Feyre lived through until then, what happened in Spring was only a blip. Trauma is unpredictable and so is the response. None of Feyre’s reactions are impossible given her circumstances, but they are so inconsistent that it feels forced.

Victims tend to have some sort of attachment with their abusers and fond memories even when they understand the gravity of their situation. Feyre had core moments that made her fall in love with her time in Spring—trapping Tamlin in the forest, swimming in the stardust lake, dancing for him and with him, her bond with Alis, the teasing with Lucien who was her first ever friend. All of it is instead treated as an illusion that Feyre wakes up from when her initial feelings were clear. She was finally, truly free and experienced genuine happiness with them but she remembers none of it again. She readily demonises everyone and hates them without hesitation. Not once does she reminisce her past, or mourn the life she left behind.

Feyre forces herself to relive the traumatic moments over and over again until the image of Tamlin as her villain is cemented in her mind. While she feels no need to do the same around Rhysand when she knows he can’t be trusted. Granted she doesn’t remember the SA itself, she however remembers the head mounted on a spike, her mind being violated, her arm being broken, being tricked and coerced, being stripped naked and paraded, being forced upon twice, and yet, she has no reaction towards him.

There are two other key moments which stand out. Feyre tried to escape Tamlin’s mansion after agreeing to go with him, but she doesn’t attempt anything similar in Night during the initial stays in Moonstone Palace. Of course, later she is homeless and alone in a strange world, but she has always been an advocate for freedom and she should have at least resisted the idea of living in a secret city no one knows about (basically a high class prison), which she doesn’t. Though this could very well be exhaustion from living in survival for long, it is also an attempt to drive the idea that Feyre feels safer with her supposed tormentor than the partner she chose.

The other is her hatred for Spring when she returns from Hybern. She despises everything, she can’t stand the mansion, the gardens, the people. But she had none of this anger or loathing for CoN, which mirrors UtM, when she plays Rhysand’s whore again.

Besides Feyre has a lot of issues on her end which is completely ignored. She is very controlling and she loses a part of it when she is expected to play her role in Spring. For someone as reckless as her, she couldn’t speak the way she wanted. She couldn’t act the way she wanted. And she definitely couldn’t lord her importance over Tamlin to have her way, like she is used to with her family in the past.

Despite being so perceptive, she doesn’t grasp the idea that she can’t and won’t be everyone’s priority. Feyre wants to be doted on. As a result of childhood neglect, she convinces herself that she is above it. The narrative wouldn’t let Feyre acknowledge this either since she is a feminist hero and she can’t have girly needs like love. She can’t be like other women.

But it is obvious with how her relationship with Tamlin cracks. During her first stay in Spring, Feyre had the undivided attention of Tamlin and Lucien alike. She wasn’t exposed to the court matters as most of his subjects were cloaked.

After UtM, Feyre sees Tamlin, the High Lord of Spring. She resents everything about him when he tends to his court—rehabilitating his subjects through the social events, entertaining priestesses in his court, even a basic tax collection.

Tamlin’s attention is now shared between Feyre and his duty. When she feared his devotion for her was slipping away, she began resenting him. She turned Tamlin into the scapegoat for every pain she was ever dealt. This is contrasted with Rhysand who is overly zealous about her (and literally doesn’t do anything court related ever). Feyre doesn’t have to want attention with him, she just gets it in abundance.

The more we look into these contrasts, it feels like Feyre forced herself into falling out of love rather than it being a direct consequence of Tamlin’s actions. Ignoring the bond and its influence, the switch from one man to another so lightly, to me, it doesn’t even feel like she fell out of love. Instead, what she had for Tamlin was trust. She had learnt to rely on someone for the first time in her life and she felt abandoned again.

And most of her feelings after leaving him is guilt that revolved around pursuing a new romance too soon. The first instance I remember clearly is right before she goes into the Weaver’s cottage. That happens weeks within of leaving Spring permanently. That’s how long it took to move on from a man she died for only months ago to flirting with the man who sexually abused. (I am a liar, I remember the others too. Rubbing the tattooed hand on herself comment, teasing Rhysand after stealing from Summer. Yeah, they are despicable and I hate the pair.)

Feyre essentially cheated on Tamlin emotionally long before she ended the relationship or decided to do so. This is not a judgement given the complicated situation but combining it with everything else, her guilt is again just a forced narrative so she can retain the saintly status.

The note she sent to Tamlin is a character armour as none of her actions so far imply Feyre believes her old relationship deserves a proper closure. It comes off like an afterthought that Feyre is only acting out of societal customs. But you can also tell it is the author trying so hard for the readers to not blame Feyre for enjoying the sexual act in CoN. Even without the note, Lucien could’ve come looking for her in Night and it wouldn’t affect the plot differently. The only purpose of the note is to protect Feyre from scrutiny and eliminate any grace for Tamlin.

Instead of disrespecting the sacrifices the two made for each other and ridiculing their struggles for a dramatic yet effortless partner swap, I’d have preferred if they had come to realise they weren’t right for each other, that the three months broke something in them, that Amarantha succeeded in tearing them apart, and moving on amicably.

But now, as a result, her relationship with Rhysand comes off as coping—to some extent, denial even—instead of genuine. The biggest flaw in this narrative is again not Feyre’s choice but the lack of emotional substance in her.

Her intense monologues and outbursts at times are often mistaken for emotional depth. But since moving to Night, Feyre becomes a mouthpiece for Rhysand’s state of mind and a device to endlessly justify him rather than processing her own feelings about him or her new life. There is no organic growth in their relationship as she is quick to agree with what’s fed to her without questioning anything.

While it’s a common notion that Rhysand manipulated Feyre, it is true only to a degree. In order to turn someone as stubborn as her, Rhysand will have to hit every one of her vulnerabilities and make her doubt every belief she ever had. But he doesn’t have to try so hard. At best, he gives her a slight explanation and Feyre takes it as gospel.

The only time she truly hesitates is when she learns of Velaris. It’s because she is supposed to. Because she is a strong female lead who can’t be gullible and believe her tormentor. Although phrased as such, she doesn’t really question it out of curiosity or because of her morals. She doesn’t pause to wonder if these ideals are something she agrees with, if it goes against her values. If the latter were the case, she’d question if the Illyrians, a race she knows nothing about, are really all brutes. She’d question if the people of Hewn City, again a bunch she’s never met, are all evil especially if Rhysand and Morrigan turned out alright.

Feyre always had a skewed sense of morality but it takes a much clearer form after she moves to Night. Her disdain towards her sisters and opinion about the townspeople represent her narcissism and shallowness. She also has a superiority complex, in my opinion, which actually drives her to oppose Tamlin during the tithe and offer charity to the water sprites.

Her kindness and compassion is very selective and circumstantial, and this is easily directed towards the people of Velaris. Not to mention the community that affected her the most was the artisans’. Because Feyre saw herself in them, saw them as vulnerable and the ones deserving of protection. And this belief is extended to the rest of the city.

I digress. Rhysand strokes this side of her. He feeds her ego by making her believe she has power through a sex show. In Illyria, he goads her into believing she is a match to the Generals (who knows how old they are) who have been trained to war all their lives.

The longer this dynamic is explored, there is one conclusion for me. Feyre doesn’t love Rhysand either as much as she loves the sense of power and importance she has with him. Feyre is basically a parasite and will latch onto anyone who benefits her. At the moment, Rhysand does, by validating her in ways no one else does. As long as he offers her a modicum of control over her life or others, and reveres as someone who can do no wrong, she will be by his side.

[revelboo]

I LOVE your Soundwave(s) and Tarn! Those are my top two fav tfs (SW has been my fav since I was a wee thing!) and I love the way you write them both! Your stories are my daily decadent luxuries. <3

I read your pages every single day because I love all your stories so much — even ones that have characters that I’m really not interested in, I still can’t get enough of their stories! You’ve basically re-mapped my list of favourites and now I have so many more… You even made me like a spider! These characters-first stories literally drive my day and they mean so much to me, I can’t even begin to thank you enough for them.

I do, however, start missing some of these wonderful characters when I haven’t ‘heard from them’ in a while though, lol, especially ones on cliffhangers/edges/buildups. I’m currently ‘missing’ :

— Sunstreaker (so what’s my fav sunshine boy going to do now, eh?);

— the Rainmakers (I can’t wait for the little human to really get their attention); and

— the Constructicons (that last part to “Drive” makes me feel like it’s that moment right before wee little me gets to open my presents).

Although I wouldn’t object to Vortex, Megatronus, and Brainstorm making some noise too, since they were also left hanging a bit, lol.

I’m seriously attempting not to just list all my favs, but it isn’t easy since you’ve made me love soooooo many more of them, lol. <3

When you’re feeling up to it, could we have more Needs and Wants? I am one of those people that just systematically goes through the entire Otome to see all of the endings and ‘keep’ my fav one(s), and this story had me HOOKED from the opening sentence. Soundwave, Tarn, and Misfire? Hell yeah, sign me up! :D

Take care of yourself & know that your writing is fuel for so many of my days. <3

Thank you so much! I wanted to get more stuff updated this past weekend and kind of got myself into an ‘everything I write is garbage’ funk 😅

Needs and Wants Pt 5

Soundwave x Reader, Tarn x Reader, Misfire x Reader, Ratchet x Reader, Bluestreak x Reader, Wheeljack x Reader

• It’s the mech’s almost self deprecating smile and the flicking of his door wings that breaks through the overwhelming reality of your so-called soul mates. That look on his eerily human face that seems as uncertain as you feel somehow reassuring you. And Maccadam is right there, arms crossed as he watches the interaction like a father watching a potential suitor and trying to decide how bad to scare the kid. “We can talk,” you manage, voice shaky.

• “Okay, that’s- thank you,” he manages, tripping over his own words, and his tension eases as that feeling of warmth and belonging grows stronger, more insistent at the sound of your voice. Wants you to keep talking to him. Smile for him. Maybe let him touch your hand. Would that be too much? To let him touch a servo to those delicate looking fingers? Servos gripping the door frame, he feels Wheeljack bump his arm, the scientist’s vocal indicators flickering mauve when he frowns at him. And for the first time that he can remember, he’s speechless, wanting to ask so many things that he can’t say any of them.

• “Hi. Wheeljack here,” he says, awkwardly lifting a hand and warmth spills through him to twine about his spark when you hesitantly lift your own hand with a small, fragile smile. But you’re smiling at him. Shouldering in closer to Bluestreak, he ignores when he gets flicked with a door wing. “You’re looking for a partner?” He asks and you look at Maccadam, expression almost desperate. “I could take care of you.” Wants to try anyway. Because it’s be nice to have someone stay, need him and trust him to look after them. To not be alone.

• Denta gritting at the two Autobots trying to coax you into coming out, Tarn worries at the chains binding his wrists. Wanting loose even if his escape plan has stalled out. Hating that fascination singing through him from being near you to become a yearning he doesn’t want and can’t deny. Maybe when he escapes, he’ll just steal you. Sate this need with you and be satisfied.

• Coming up behind the two bots blocking you from view, Misfire drapes an arm across both of their shoulders, insulating himself between them to make them flinch to his delight. “Name’s Misfire.” And there you are, so small and needing reassuring. “These scary bots overwhelming you? I could keep you safe.” Wings flaring as Tarn and Soundwave both make a noise from behind him. So much for faction solidarity.

• Tempted to drag all three of them away from your door because they’re making you more anxious instead of less, Soundwave rumbles and rocks into agitated motion, pacing restlessly. Why does it feel like he’s tethered to you? Like he needs to be closer. Needs to touch you. Is this Maccadam’s influence or something else? Wants to soothe that nervous energy away.

• Hears Maccadam’s low voice coaxing and then Wheeljack, Bluestreak and that Decepticon seeker are backing away. Letting Maccadam lead you out, your arm tucked in his, a soft hand on his arm as your eyes dart around the room. Hold his optics for too short an amount of time before moving on. Aware that he’s probably the oldest mech here, that you’re unlikely to be interested in him. Even if he’s also the most experienced. Servos flexing, he’s moving closer, but then they all are spreading out, circling you. Hungry.

Previous

[seventhconsumedsigil]

The following is a record of the infamous Speech of Defiance by the heretic wizard known as Ao, formerly proscribed by the Tower under penalty of immediate execution, indisputably the pivotal point between the Age of Hierarchy and the Age of Madness. This copy is kindly produced by now-Archmage Vath, who was in attendance at the time as the scribe and only other direct witness, and so could make this copy after that proscription became dead law.

Archmage Telluric - We meet here today to discuss the "alleged" heresies of Mage Ao, who stands before us. Under my powers as Archmage, I shall sit in judgement over this case, and serve as executioner when it concludes. Apprentice Vath holds position as Scribe and will ensure the transmission is clear and properly archived. The courtroom is sealed against any trickery your fetid allies might pull, so don't-

Mage Ao - Oh do shut up, you withered old windbag. We all know why we're here, and we all know what's going to happen. Stuff the formality.

Telluric - [A lot of spluttering that I don't see the point in writing down. Heretic, lich, blasphemer, none of it really coherently strung together into a sentence. He did heat the air a by 20 degrees through the whole chamber while doing it though, which was an impressive display of unchanneled power if not for how uncomfortable it made my seat. This isn't helped by the subsequent effort of will Ao made. It would take us months to work out what he had done, but at the time it felt like being suffocated by very soft pillows. An uncomfortable combination, let me tell you]

Ao - Sweet silence. Ah, that's better. What, surprised that I can do that without you opposing it? Because I'm not effecting you, Archmage. The air around you, that's another matter.

[This was patently ridiculous, as effecting non-discrete objects like that should have required a ritual circle to manage the definition by common understanding. I know this sounds horribly archaic now, but magic was a lot rougher back then. For example, the wards sealing the courtroom were on a hard-set timer of 1/23rd of a solar cycle and would not budge unless blasted down before that time. Appreciate how we can do things in non-prime numbers nowadays.]

Ao- Now, I don't much care for defending myself to the likes of you all, but let me get a few things straight, since if I'm going to be condemned I want it to be accurate. Lichdom, the act of binding one's dead and dormant soul back into the body, has a few important differences. It loses the ability to naturally grow, leaving consumption the only viable path for increased magical potential, but more importantly it deforms the soul through shear forces. It tears at it, opening holes that cannot be healed without more raw material, leading to the legendary soul-thirst. What I have done is much simpler and far, far stupider, despite the fact it works! I just filled in my skull with raw magic and let my soul press against that to induce cognition instead, at least where the scraps that used to be my brain were. That causes stress, yes, but compressive stress. My soul is a mass of calluses and grows so slowly I'll probably reach Archmage level potential... approximately never, or at least an order of magnitude late, but there are upsides. You would not believe how badly optimised that sack of fat in your skull is. We've spent over ten thousand years killing anything that strays from the nice safe bounds of known magic, and arguably for good reason in some cases, but the rest... no, you've all been sat on your thrones for too long, got too comfortable with being right in the ways we teach even the dumbest apprentice not to be, before the immortality abrades their common sense away. And here I am rambling almost as bad as you are, in front of such an audience. Terrible habit, spent too long lecturing and not enough fighting. Well, I suppose a little class demonstration to end it off is due then. Watch closely, oh Archmage, and consider this. If I can run on a substrate of magic, why should I remain constrained to one piece of meat?

[At this point, Ao proceeded to fall over stone dead, in what was shockingly actually his plan. The autopsy revealed that was in fact his body, but the first sighting of one of his crystal spiders a week afterwards confirmed that he was in fact perfectly alive and had figured out body-transference a whole month before, and it was almost safe when he used it. The Hivemind of Ao would go on to become, as Ao liked to style himself, A Big Damn Problem. They still called him a lich for the next sixteen years though, and I have it on the best of authority it drove him demented that entire time.]

When a mage is badly injured, magic sometimes "fills in the gaps"—growing an arcane hand or leg. You suffered brain damage that would have killed most. Magic filled in your mind.

[imaginesbymonika]

All I know is you can take me there (slide away) | Part 1

Hold me down all the world's asleep. I need you now you've knocked me off my feet. I dream of you and we talk of growing old, but you said please don't. Slide in, baby. Together, we'll fly. I've tried praying, but I don't know what you're saying to me.

Plot: Reader wants Joel. He's not getting the hint.

Pairing: Joel Miller x younger fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of everything that has happened, angst, fluff (bc i feel like we can all deserve that right now), longing, Joel is insecure about his age, age gap (Reader is in her late 20s), a fan fiction plot classic !!!

You had no idea what it was. But there was just something about Joel Miller you couldn’t figure out. And every single time you came close to pinpointing it down, the narrative once again slipped through your fingers like sand. You’d glance at him during the town meetings. Joel would linger by the doors, occasionally roll his eyes- at some point, they would inevitably anchor on you. Then he’d quickly turn his head. Sometimes you thought that maybe he does like you, on other days you reckoned he simply tolerated your presence. However, maybe both things to him were the same emotion. You’d never ask.

You like him. A lot, actually. Ragged demeanor and all. His sharp answers. Gray beard, scars, and demons. You like him. All of him.

Joel does too. But he also knows how the other men in Jackson feel about you. After all, it was one of the very first things Tommy for some reason said after introducing you two. „She’s our number one bachelorette.“, he declared, while putting a cigarette between his lips. The sound of the lighter cutting through the peaceful air:“ The women are all intimidated, the men all interested.“ If Joel ever had even a tiny bit of confidence that could have led him to ask you out, it evaporated at that very moment. He is an old man. God knows you would never be interested in that. But he didn’t ask God.

Ellie knows. She knows that you are interested and she also knows that he is interested. And while she’s unbelievably protective of Joel, she can’t help but adore you. She had no choice, after all, you granted her a piece of your garden to practice her farming skills on. You are thoughtful, nice, sweet, and more than gracious. It‘s everything Joel deserves. If only he could see that.

However, he was way too focused on how half the town's male population was after you. And the majority of them were young men. Handsome and muscular; who could offer you so much more than he ever could. So he automatically removed himself. Again, he never truly saw himself as your potential partner anyway. Although he really wanted to. Yet life isn’t fair. Especially not to him.

That is why he is only looking at you, standing next to a few of your girlfriends while soft music plays in the background. God, you’re gorgeous. It‘s one of those silly town gatherings. Joel is well aware that he doesn’t exactly have to be there. Yet, he really likes seeing you in clothes that aren’t ‚surviving an apocalypse-coded‘ (your own words). He sighs and looks down into his beer glass.

A few seconds later Ellie gently nudges him, and when he looks up again he notices how you’re making your way over to them…and God, you’re so pretty. The prettiest thing he has seen in decades. And perhaps you are a sign that God hasn’t entirely abandoned them.

“Hi.“, you say softly, a smile emerging on your lips.

„Hey.“, Joel replies, trying to smile back. Yet, it comes out more jagged than casual:“ Nice dress.“ Jesus, he’s terrible at this. He used to be so much more confident…cocky even. However, when you smile at his compliment something heavy lifts off his chest.

You scan his features while you wait. Patiently. For him to ask you to dance. You click your tongue, and observe how his eyes quickly meet yours. Joel rarely feels shy like this, but there’s just something in your stare; you’re waiting for something and he cannot figure out what it is.

Meanwhile, Ellie picked up on it the moment you walked over to them. She rolls her eyes before turning to look up at him with a ‚come on, ask her‘ expression on her face. But Joel isn’t paying her any attention. He‘s practically paralyzed. „Well.“, you say, crossing your arms:“ I‘m going to grab myself something to drink.“ A wave of insecurity washes over you. Did you imagine things again? Maybe he genuinely just wasn’t interested in you.

„I could grab you something.“, the words fled his lips before he thought about them.

„You- you would?“

„Sure, what do you want?“

„A wine, please.“

The minute they’re far enough away, Ellie gently hits his upper arm:“ Are you stupid?!“ She asks, the words coming out as mean as they were planned. Joel turns to look at her in disbelief:“ What?“ They reach the small bar and Joel grabs a bottle and a glass. Tommy was starting to become really cheap with these things.

„She‘s obviously waiting for you to ask her to dance.“

Joel nearly drops the bottle.

„Jesus.“, Ellie mutters, hands flying up to catch the empty air:“ You‘re old, but not that old. It’s so obvious, that even a blind person could’ve detected that you’re practically drooling over her. Just ask-.“ „I am not drooling?!“

Ellie rubs the bridge of her nose:“ Just- just go and ask her out before someone else does. Okay?“

And for a second, Joel merely stares at her before nodding:“ Okay, yeah.“

[anya-nya-nya]

⚠abduction⚠

Imagine a darling that understands Aventurine pretty well, especially his trauma. No one cared for him, and now, when you give him a portion of sincere kindness, a treatment every person deserves just because, Aventurine is suddenly all in love.

But you're confused: isn't it just a lack of experience dictating? Desperate loneliness and the lack of true appreciation made conviction in his mind that no one would even dare to love his true self, only you managed to do this. It doesn't matter how friendly or romantic your actions were: it's true love, and nothing less. In his opinion (which is always correct, Aven knows how to place winning bets), it may feel like you are the best partner for him. And you can see these unhealthy patterns rule upon sanity in his head.

Don't even start with this “I want you to find and love a person who you actually would choose to love, not the one you considered the only choice right now.” with him. Aventurine would consider this as a potential threat, as the possibility of the only safe person in this world to slip from his grasp. Does it really matter how heatly his emotions are when it feels so good? It was such hard work to open up his soul for you, and now you're considering he should do this more often to find other friends, other lovers? Among others, not in you?

Such conflict may lead to many ways:

1) A new mask just for you, to make him appear as someone who's trying to rehabilitate sincere social connections. But what a pity!, he still can find a person who would suit him better than you are. Telling fake stories about his new, real, kind friends is one of the ways to soothe your worry and create new conviction: he's healthy, he's better, he still wants you. Just when you would finally give up?

2) Straight up kidnapping. How can you act like you two are not soulmates, while having devotion to his well-being big enough it makes you push him away? The purest love with a sliver of drama. So you and your theories about what good and what bad for Aventurine are cute, but he's no less stubborn. Tell him right in the face that it's morbid for his own sanity, and Aventurine would just shush you down with a kiss.

Okay, okay, he's so bad and broken, but that means he can justify this abduction as one of trauma responses. If he's so bad and broken, you wouldn't judge him for clinging every evening to your chest in his locked bedroom. If he's so bad and broken, no one would love him just like you actually do. Don't be shy to confess it, love.

[biancadoes1]

Sorry, this is long and if you don't post it, I understand.

I want to go back to the WT for a sec, and one of the reasons I don't think what we saw was fake. First of all, I think the existence of dating co-stars, while having the potential to be great for a project, is more likely to be a headache for PR. What if there are problems, or the couple break up while doing promotion? Obviously, when doing promo, there is always the desire to present co-stars who get along and had a great time working together (even when the opposite is true), but beyond that, I don't think Netflix or Shondaland would be putting pressure on them to mirror their characters--certainly not to display the level of unhinged behaviour we saw. Whether or not they were flirting like mad because they're obviously attracted to each other (but were not together), or carrying on an affair while seeing each other people casually, or together all along....I firmly believe that chemistry and closeness is very real.

I didn't really start to think they were together until they started responding to people asking about it. I couldn't for the life of me understand their reactions. I expected them to be clear that Penelope and Colin are characters they play, and reality is different than fiction. Yes, I think Luke said at one point, it meant they did their jobs well, and obviously Nicola said they were great friends....but obviously, I was not the only one that noticed what seemed like very careful word choices, a lot of smiles and blushing, and an acknowledgment that fans shipping them was "sweet" and "not to worry". They saw the whole shipping discourse getting bigger and bigger, you would think they would want to push back harder, not in a mean way, but in a "we're bloody actors" kind of way. And no, I don't think it would have affected viewership--people were already very excited about Part 1, and looking forward to Part 2. And I would say most people--at that time--were not expecting them to behave the way they did; we're still flipping out about it all now.

What's happening now obviously poses many questions and possibilities...the surface narrative that the media is always right there to jump on *could* be true. But for people that are both described as warm, wonderful, caring people....are both really ok with the nasty vitriol their "partners" receive? To have your bf/gf called names, have their appearances and careers mocked; wouldn't that be reason enough to come out and show some kind of support? Or are we meant to believe that's what the no-comment-uncomfortable-looking appearances are about? ("See, this is who I'm with, leave us alone.") Meanwhile, both N and L seem pretty quick to come to each other's defense, when no one would expect them to (for example, the recent SAG blind item when N emphatically denied L was the subject). And while we know she was at the William Tell premiere, I'm fairly certain she posted nothing about the movie (all the other members of the friend group shared supportive IG stories celebrating Jake). Also, while we know she went to see his play (more than once?), yet she also never made a peep about being there, and what she thought of it and his performance, as a supportive gf (or friend!) would do. And while I can understand that L and N are not as active interacting with each other on SM because of the current insanity of fans, wouldn't things like wishing each other happy birthday be a way of retraining fans and assuring them that they are, in fact, the best of friends, who tease each other and have fun the way they used to?

As always, I want to say that they obviously can do whatever they want to do and don't owe the public a thing. But what we do see....mixed messages, indeed. It just reinforces to me that we really have no idea what's going on.

.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Taking Root 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Bucky and Leaf.

Summary: a neighbourly connection might be more than chance.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky's stomach is going. His chest too. She's coming over.

He's been cleaning all morning. Steve's been... gone. Ever since he left for his date. Bucky has his suspicions. It makes him even more anxious. 

As much as he chirps the other guys, he agrees. He can't just sit around and wait for things to happen. That's what he's been doing. It took him this long just to have a conversation.

He told her to buzz up but the knock on the door startles him. He peeks through the peephole. She's in a cute lilac shirt with a leaf on it and her daisy-pattern gardening hat. She waves as if she can see through the door.

He slides the chain back and opens the door. She has a bucket with several handles hanging out of it. 

"Morning, sunshine!" She chimes with a smile. She searches past him. "And kitty sunshine. Where she is."

"Morning," he returns dulcetly.

"Sorry. I woke up at four and I had like three teas! Then I was watching the birds. Oh, and I was excited to come see your flowers." She jitters. It's just plants, he thinks. He won't dim her light.

He saw her this morning. She was bopping around. He's pretty sure she was listening to music. He had his coffee and watched.

"I was going to offer you some tea but since you already had three..."

"No, I can do more! If you don't mind." She trills.

"Sure, I bought, uh, a thing," he goes to the cupboard. She takes her shoes off and leaves them on the mat before following. "Not too sure what kind you wanted. It has different ones."

She comes up next to him and stands close. She smells like cinnamon. She leans in and examines the box. "Can I have the apple, please and thanks."

"Sure, maybe I'll try some." He turns and flicks on the kettle. A big white splotch lands on the counter. Bucky sighs, "Al..."

"Hi, kitty!" She tweets and puts her hand out. "Aren't you so gorgeous?"

Alpine smells her fingers. "Careful," Bucky warns, "she bites..."

His voice trails off as the white shorthair pushes her head into Leaf's hand. He'd love to do the same thing. The thought of her playing with his hair, petting him, sitting in his lap. Back off, Bucky.

"Shoo, off the counter," he snaps his fingers at the cat.

She hops down. Leaf lets out a disappointed breath.

"Why don't you take her in the other room before she knocks over my toaster again," he says.

"Sure," she sings.

She makes noises to lure Alpine away and rubs her fingers together. He waits until he's sure she's gone. He checks over his shoulder then opens the cupboard. He takes down the little vial. He hesitates as he examines the powder. He crushed the tablets last night. Just in case...

It'll be easier than locking her in the back of a truck or breaking into her house. He uncaps it and pours it into the mug, placing a tea bag on top. He quickly shoves the vial away and watches the kettle. His fingers tap on the counter.

Just one step closer. This is it. I mean, is he that lame that those losers from that discord are further along than him?

He coughs as the kettle clicks. He pours the hot water into the mug. He lifts it and stirs the bag around. The powder dissolves. He puts the spoon in the sink and crosses the tile.

He peeks out into the front room. She's on the couch watching Alpine play with her weathered toy mouse. The squeaker stopped working ages ago but the cat still loves it.

"Here," he brings the cup to her and places it on a coaster on the end table. "It's hot."

"Oh, thanks. That's so sweet," she bounces on the couch. "You had her a long time?"

"Couple years. She was down in the alley hunting robins."

"Awwww. That's adorable. You saved her."

He nods. That's all he's doing. Saving her too.

"So the flowers?"

"Right," she stands up. "Can I bring the tea with me?"

"Sure, don't burn yourself," he says. He's sabotaging herself. No one wants cold tea.

She gets up and takes the cup. She blows over it. "Smells very apple-y."

"Great," he utters nervously.

He leads her out onto the balcony, holding the door for her. She steps out and peers across the gap between their buildings. "Oh, wow, you can see all my flowers from here."

"It's colourful," he says.

"Ha, yes," she agrees and turns to look at his planters. "Oh, some of these girlies need water."

"Right, uh, I'm new at this," he rubs his neck.

She sips the tea. She clears her throat and flinches. "That's strong. Black tea?"

"Must be," he shrugs.

"Hm, well, new things are fun," she says.

She cradles the cups as she looks over his assortment. "I love the shades you chose. We can put them into the planters easily. You got soil?"

"Oh, shoot, I must've missed that step," he says.

"Hmmm, okay, I might have some at my place." She turns and he stops her from putting the cup down.

"Finish the tea then you can run across. I'm in no rush." He insists.

She looks down. "Oh, sure, Wouldn't want it to go cold," she backs up and leans on the railing. "I... I was wondering. That clock in there. A cuckoo clock?"

"I'm trying to fix it." He says as he peeks back towards the apartment windows. "Client inherited it from an uncle or something."

"Wow, is that what you do? Fix things?"

"I try," he says.

She slurps again. Her cheeks pinch. Was it too much? Did he pour it all in? He didn't pay attention.

"I've sold a few plants. I go down and get the seedlings cheap. Raise them, sell em for a pretty bonus. Helps." She explains. "You mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead."

She lowers herself and look down at the alley. "It's so peaceful out here sometimes. I wish I got more sun. Maybe a nicer view. All I can see is brick."

"Right. Be nice to live somewhere far out, huh? In the country?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe a farm?" He prompts.

"Hm, a lot of work. Chickens and stuff. Lots of pests too."

He hums and follows her gaze to the alley. He stands at the door, blocking it. She sits and nurses the drink. She puts down the empty cup. She grumbles.

"Oh, I think... that was caffeinated," she bends over her lap and holds her head. "I'm getting a headache."

"I didn't realise. I shoulda read the box."

She makes another gurgle and her body goes slack. He rushes over before she can slip onto the balcony floor. He unfolds her and turns her over. She's breathing but out like a light. He pinches her cheek. She doesn't react.

He exhales. Well, he's gone this far.

[aureatescars]

Sasha is thankful for Leon taking over when he gets a little too caught up in his own thoughts again. Leon doesn't have to do it and Sasha would be able to manage on his own, but rather than being irritated by Leon taking over a task for him he feels nothing but relief. It makes the heavy thoughts and feelings less stark, softens the edges that cut deep into his mood. And when he finds Leon's gaze gentle with understanding and sympathy Sasha feels a little more warm and a little less like he made yet another mistake.

Still, it's no surprise that the memories and the regrets that come with them don't fade immediately even as the two of them settle at the table. Leon is the one to break the silence, pulling Sasha back from trying to pinpoint the exact day he last had any sort of contact with his mother.

He doesn't expect Leon to ask about her again, half expected him to stir the conversation somewhere else, quip at him, tease him about putting all this effort into making this dish and then not immediately digging in. But this isn't anywhere near that, it's not him being pushy either, he's merely giving Sasha an opportunity to speak about her if he really wants to.

"I—" He hesitates at first, but finds that despite the guilt and regrets he really wants to tell Leon about her. "Yes," he says then. "Closer than most from what I understand." Much like Leon he goes about stirring his stew with his spoon, but then pauses to grab a bit of bread to cut into smaller pieces with his knife to eventually dip it into the stew. "I don't have any siblings, and my father..." Sasha winces. "That's a whole different story." And one he doesn't want to get into right now. "Let's just say it was just me and her from my early teens on. She tried to be there for me best she could, but her working hours as a nurse meant I was left to my own devices a lot."

He shakes his head. "In hindsight that clearly wasn't the best thing... I was an angry teenager, lashed out at just about everyone, and in general got myself into a lot of trouble." He sighs and thinks of J.D., always loyal, always at his side no matter what. Yes, he'd been a troublemaker, but Sasha was just as bad, if not worse. He pushes the thought of his late best friend aside. "But still, she always believed in me. I can see that now." He makes a dismissive gesture with one hand. "However, back then she was disappointed I didn't live up to my potential of course, but no matter how angry she was with me, she'd always be there when I needed her." He looks down at his knuckles, a few small scars, old ones, draw taught over them as he flexes his fingers. "There was this one night..." He considers whether or not he really wants to tell Leon about it, but realizes that the other has seen far worse sides of him by now. "Worst fight I've ever gotten into as a teenager was because some lowlife was harassing Irina."

Worst not because Sasha was heavily injured, but rather because he almost did something back then he could never have taken back. Christ, Irina and him had barely been seventeen. "Broke his nose, and his jaw, a few ribs, too, probably..." He remembers that night very vividly, even after all these years. Not because of the pain, but because of the way Irina had to pull him away before he could do something stupid, the way she looked at him, full of fear, was something that twisted his entire perception of himself. He tells Leon as much now, although it rings hollow given all that he has done since.

Once again he is grateful that Leon doesn't point out his hypocrisy, but rather just keeps listening to his tale. "I took Irina home, but we didn't even say goodnight." He sighs, remembers how it had stung that she didn't even glance back at him before entering her parents' house. "I don't even really remember how I got home after that." He looks up from his food then, both of them having slowly made their way through dinner. It helps with the nostalgia somehow, eating something so familiar. Memories slowly clear away before his inner eye until he's no longer looking at fragments of his past, but at Leon. There is no judgment in his eyes, no pity either, he simply listens, and for once in his life, Sasha in turn can't stop talking. "I just remember that when I opened the door my mother was right there waiting for me, she took one good look at me, and before saying anything she got the first aid kit, sat me down and started cleaning my busted knuckles." He smiles slightly, but has to swallow around a lump that formed in his throat throughout recounting these events. "And then, after wrapping them up, she said: 'I'm sorry.' As if she was the one to blame for what I did."

His tone turns exasperated and he has to blink away a bit of moisture from his eyes. To his surprise it's easy to admit to the next thing. "I broke down and cried like a child for the first time in years." Saying so is accompanied by a shrug, but Sasha remembers the anguish he had felt, any embarrassment about it he has long since made his peace with. He was a child back then. Lost and afraid.

"I straightened myself out after that, for her, for Irina, but also for myself." He leans heavily against the backrest of his wheelchair, it creaks quietly. A reminder of his most recent, most cutting mistake.

He lowers his gaze back to the bowl. "But I guess I haven't really changed after all, have I?" All it took was a catalyst and he fell right back into that anger he felt as an adolescent. Only now it was a raging fury fueled by grief and without Irina there to rein him in, he spiralled completely out of control and took J. D. down with him.

He pushes the remaining bits of his food around with his spoon. "Maybe it's for the best if she thinks I'm dead."

There is a hint of sorrow around the smile Sasha gives Leon in turn, but he bites back the self- deprecating comment that sits on the tip of his tongue. I used to be. He still thinks quietly to himself as he turns back around in order to not give Leon enough time to decipher the emotion he's sure to be present on his face. Leon has developed quite a way of reading him these days, or maybe Sasha has become less guarded, either way, he doesn't want this to devolve into an argument, so he simply takes the compliment. He isn't sure that after everything he's done he could still call himself that, but hearing Leon say so has him think that maybe, despite never being able to amend the wrongs he did, he can still do better than before.

It's not long until dinner is ready after that and the genuine excitement in Leon's expression and tone when he comes to check up on the food has Sasha's pensive mood from before dissolve into something more mellow, almost content. Smiling suits him Sasha thinks, not for the first time, as he looks up at Leon. Then, because he cannot help it, he nudges Leon in the side again when he, once again, manages to stand right infront of the cabinet Sasha needs to open.

"She did," Sasha says as he pulls out a bowl. "I'm not half the cook she is, but you'll have to make do." There is no bitterness there, but his tone is a little wistful now that his thoughts stray back to simpler times. He pauses in his actions of filling the food from the steaming pot into the bowl. "I haven't talked to her since Irina's death." He says quietly, not really meaning to, but he's taken aback by the realization that the words fall from his lips unbidden. He wonders if she is doing well, and then, within the same breath, he wonders if she thinks he died in the war.

The wave of guilt hits him hard as he stares down at the pot of steaming stew, taking in the familiar smell, nostalgia mingles with regret. If he reached out to her now would she even want to speak to him? Would she recognize the man he'd become?

Would she forgive him?

The touch of a hand to his shoulder has him startle from his thoughts and he looks up at Leon, his own hands still frozen mid-action. "Sorry." His voice cracks on the word. He clears his throat, then attempts to get back to the task at hand without spilling food everywhere. "Just getting lost in my own head." Again.

[raileurta]

Megatron's wife

Okay there's this incomplete fanfic about Megatron getting brain damage and thinking Starscream is his wife. I'm not too much of a fan of tfp megastar because Starscream is my baby and I hated seeing him being abused in canon. I do like them from an aesthetic point of view but that's about it.

This plot however could be extremely great for angst potential. I'm picturing as Megatron slowly gets more and more of his processor repaired he starts questioning weird behavior from Starscream. He notices how jumpy the seeker is around him, how he will startle if the overlord touches him unexpectedly, and his overwhelming fear of him. Starscream desperately tries to mask it or always seemingly has a valid reason for it but Megatron does notice this. He's extremely confused why his wife would be so terrified of him. He loves his wife so much.

Megatron would never hurt him.

So one night he decides to do some research. He sneaks out when Starscream is in recharge gets into a mainframe console and starts looking through files.

Other people, mostly Shockwave, have prevented him from accessing certain data files for his “health” but he does not believe him. He's no hacker but he is knowledgeable enough to know how to get around certain locks. Coming across a large folder labeled “Starscream” he unlocks it and starts watching the videos inside.

Not even halfway through he stops looking at the console, collapses onto the floor and starts to drive heave; he can't bring himself to watch another clip. Megatron is absolutely disgusted at what he saw. There were many, many, recordings of Megatron beating Starscream, quite severely too and threatening to kill him.

He has reasonably come to the conclusion he was an abusive partner to his second in command. If cybertronians could cry he would be a sobbing mess. He finally “understood” why Starscream was so hesitant to be around him in the first place and the weird behavior when the subject of being his wife came up. He goes back to his and Starscream shared berth not even masking his loud footsteps. This rouses Starscream from recharge wondering what's going on. Before he can even get his processor straight Megatron pulls him into a tight hug making nonsensical ramblings about how much he loves the seeker and how he's never going to hurt him again. It takes a bit for him to understand but once he does his stomach drops. He starts to frantically explain away about how he's a great partner and that was made up. Megatron doesn't believe him and this just makes him feel worse.

Starscream isn't quite sure what to do.

Megatron starts talking about how he's not going to get his processor fixed if it means he'll go back to mistreating Starscream. This makes Starscream even more conflicted. He has to go along with the wife delusions so Megatron can get better but if he agrees with this when Megatron eventually gets his memories back when his self repair nanites fix the problem he's definitely going to kill the seeker. So he tries to run away to seek help from Shockwave but Megatron refuses to let him leave. Megatron doesn't want to be an abuser anymore but he's still not the best guy and he's extremely emotional right now.

They agree to sleep on the problem and figure out what to do in the morning. I don't know what would come next though but I like to think after he gets his memories back this whole thing gave Megatron lots of perspective and he starts to treat Starscream more nicely because of it. In return Starscream would stop trying to overthrow him or assassinate him.

For me personally if I wrote about this I wouldn't have it end explicitly in megastar, more in a queer platonic sense. I like the idea of them occasionally cuddling in bed ever so often because they liked it so much when they were forced to share a berth. Plus Starscream has too much trauma from Megatron to engage with him in a healthy romantic relationship I would think. If we assume this near the end of the series and he's still an overlord.

I just kinda want to just put this out into the world to see if anyone does anything with this. I think it's an interesting idea and I want to see what people do with it.

[mammoth-clangen]

In my opinion deextinction is a case by case tool. The northern white rhino cross species surrogacy problem? Hell yeah. The moa? Sure, bring em back - emu can be farmed relatively easily, and New Zealand has both a major interest in farming (we have domesticated deer, like not tamed, domesticated fully), and very large tracts of land that have not been disturbed. And off shore island sanctuaries to start with. But bringing back the haast's eagle? Nah fam, leave the Known Man Killer apex predator alone.

Disclaimer: my reply to this ask is a lot more opinion than hard science. So don't take it as The Truth™, because there isn't one.

To me, Aotearoa/NZ is actually a great example for my exact points from earlier. It has one of the most fascinating ecosystems; with incredible levels of endemism, very few native land mammals, and some amazingly unique birdlife. For those unfamiliar, see below!

Image source: theafterworkphotographer.com

But-

94% of reptile species, 82% of bird species, 80% of bat species, 76% of freshwater fish species, 22% of marine mammal species and 46% of Aotearoa's vascular plant species are facing extinction.

I cannot see any reason to dedicate time and money to resurrecting (one of nine) moa species that have been gone from the ecosystem for 500+ years. Not when so many extant species need desperate assistance, unless we want them to end up on an extinction list with the Moa, Haast's eagle, and huia.

This is how I feel about the Thylacine too.

I personally doubt there would be enough demand for Moa meat to make farming a viable reason to clone them. People barely eat emu in Australia, and they are right there as a perfectly viable ratite for captive-breeding and farming. Both Au and NZ export huge amounts of meat compared to the amount we consume. So unless they can find a huge international market for ratite meat, it's not really a worthwhile risk to most farmers.

Bird cloning/ genetic modification is also much harder to than in mammals. While mammal embryos can be implanted into a surrogate, it's much harder to implant a bird embryo into an egg and still have it hatch.

Extinction in Aotearoa is personal to me- -because my family are all Kiwis, even if I don't live there. I visit often and always lament how few native birds I actually see when I do.

---

It's worth noting the Northern White Rhinoceros isn't extinct quite yet; there are two individuals remaining, Fatu and Najin. However, as they are both infertile females, the species is functionally extinct.

Unfortunately, saving the Northern white rhino with cloning/GMO relatives or even cross species surrogacy will likely suffer nearly all the issues of true de extinction.

A company called BioRescue has 30 frozen Northern White Rhino embryos. Which looks great on paper! But every one was created using Fatu's eggs. Meaning all the potential rhinos would be full or half siblings. As I said in my Wrangel Island mammoth ask, sometimes species do strangely well as an entire population with extreme inbreeding depression. But most don't.

Side note, and this is purely my own speculation (and Polarwooly's), I wonder if the Wrangel Mammoths survived with inbreeding depression because elephants (and relatives) have extreme DNA repair 'machinery'. They also have extremely low cancer rates, so it could easily be linked!

I really don't want to sound like one of those "Useless animal! Let it go extinct!" people, because I don't think we shouldn't try. I just genuinely don't know how much anyone can do for them at this point. It all feels a bit 'too little, too late.'

And again, the Southern White Rhinoceros isn't extinct, functionally or actually. But they are threatened with the same things that drove their Northern cousins to the edge. That said, the Southern subspecies nearly went extinct in the late 1800s, being reduced to less than 50 individuals. Their numbers rebounded spectacularly when effort was put into habitat preservation and protection from poachers, but their numbers have been dropping again in recent years.

It just makes me wonder if the time and money being put into resurrection wouldn't be better spent fixing the underlying problems...

Also, can you please give a source for the "domestic deer"? I mean this genuinely, not as a dig! I couldn't find anything when I looked except that 'deer are farmed in NZ' (which I knew because I've seen deer farms there before lolol). But it takes more than "bred in captivity for x generations" to qualify as fully domestic!

Repeating my disclaimer: You, dear reader, are absolutely welcome to disagree with my opinions, and think having moa back would just be cool AF. Because logistics aside, it absolutely would be cool af!