#and it's not great when a space that is meant to be a welcoming exception to the norm still shits on you.

[rasairui]

"The bigots up top think we're ALL fucked up! They want us ALL dead!" Hey that's cool dude you're right! Now are you saying this as a genuine expression of solidarity and community, or do you only bring this point up when the acknowledgement of intersectionality makes you uncomfortable? Is it a rallying cry, or a way to shut down people affected by intercommunity bigotry?

[buckyalpine]

Hello, first I would like to say that I love your writing and it normally makes me really happy while I am at some boring classes at college, so thanks for that hahaha ❤️

Also, I saw your requests are open and since I am absolutely obsessed with your angst for bucky, I am here to request some.

My idea would be something like this: reader has been in the compound with the avengers for a while now and besides really caring for the team, she has some problems being more open with friendships and relationships in general, cause of some insecurities with her personality, but in somehow she feels really comfortable with Bucky and they are kinda of great friends?

And then she's just waking by the compound looking for him one day and she hears him speaking something bad about her? Something about how he feels like she's overwhelming him cause she just has him as a friend and no one else and it kinda makes her look for him a lot for comfort ( I actually have no idea what he could be speaking, so this is just an idea but it could be anything, really) maybe this could actually be a misunderstanding and he did not meant in that way? I would love if it had a lot of angst and a happy ending, but of course is up to you!

YES I live for miscommunication and comfort and this type of angst, this concept is everything!!

warnings: Angst, miscommunication, idiots in love/ friends to lovers, plenty of fluffff

-

"Hey sugar plum" You smiled, plopping beside Bucky on the couch while he scrolled through Netflix documentaries with a large bowl of m&ms in his lap. "Whatcha watching"

"Haven't decided yet, pick something Jellybean" He handed you the remote and candy bowl, throwing his arm around the back of the couch while you got settled in and flicked through the selection of tv shows.

"Of course" Bucky snorted, shaking his head with amusement as Unsolved Mysteries started to play. You grinned, comfortable nestled against his side while the rest of the team joined one by one; Sam swiped a handful of chocolate from the bowl only to have Bucky swat at his hand like a cat.

"Get your own candy pigeon pants"

"What, y/n gets some but I don't" Sam scoffed in fake offence while Bucky shrugged, throwing one at him.

"Well you're not y/n" Bucky shrugged while you felt your heart flutter. You loved everyone with your whole heart, you really did, but no one else made you feel safe the way Bucky did. Being around him felt like being constantly wrapped in a thick fluffy blanket. Ever since you had joined the team, you struggled to fully be yourself around everyone.

Not that anyone treated you differently; but being surrounded some of the strongest and most brilliant people on the planet gnawed at your insecurities. Steve was a sweetheart, Nat was incredibly skilled and drop dead gorgeous, Tony could charm his way out of just about anything. Everyone had something that made them exceptional and then there was you. You tended to be on the quieter side, fueled with self doubt over if you actually brought anything to the team.

Were you really all that interesting?

What did you really add to the group?

Did anyone even notice your presence when you were around?

Even if they did, did it make a difference?

You'd overthink your way into a quiet corner wondering why you were the way that you were. No one else could see the way you'd worry yourself into a ball of self-doubt, figuring you were just shy and they didn't want to mistakenly push any boundaries.

Then there was Bucky.

Being around Bucky was different.

Something about him was warm and welcoming. He didn't hesitate to pull you out of your hiding spaces around the compound, making sure you joined for team events and game nights. Any insecurities you had always melted away when you were around him because he made you feel special.

Made you feel wanted.

The night went by with everyone sharing their own conspiracy theories over what they think actually happened at the end of each episode while you stayed tucked by Bucky's side. Neither of you had any plans on calling it an early night, while the rest of the team eventually all went to bed as you switched to a new show.

"I'm going to grab more snacks, want anything sugar plum?" You were about to make your way to the kitchen when Bucky placed his hand on your thigh, making you stay seated.

"I'll get it, tell me what you want Jellybean" He shook his head, grabbing the throw blanket and tossing it over your legs so you'd be comfy for the rest of the night while he went to grab the snacks. You didn't have to actually say anything, Bucky knew exactly what you wanted. He came back with half the kitchen raided on a tray along with a beer, pulling you to his side, letting you snuggle against his chest.

You let out a content sigh, unwrapping a chocolate bar while Bucky snuck a bite, the warmth of his body making it difficult for you to stay awake like you'd planned. You eventually fell asleep, waking up to find yourself tucked comfortably in your bed as the sun poured into your room, your body still wrapped in the throw he had covered you with.

You felt your body warm up at the way he was so gentle with you, having carried you to your room without making you stir the slightest. There wasn't anyone else you'd feel so comfortable around.

He was your safe space.

You found yourself hopping out of bed with more energy than usual, deciding to train in the morning instead of your late night workouts, if you were lucky, maybe you'd run into Bucky after his morning run. You made your way to the kitchen, smiling when you heard his voice, along with Sam's, the both of them bickering over something irrelevant as per usual. The closer you got, the more serious their conversation sounded making you wonder if something had come up with a mission

And then you heard your name.

You stopped half way, staying as still as possible part of you wanting to run back to your room while covering your ears, the other part of you curious to know what they were saying. You wanted to move but your feet were glued to the ground, your heart hammering out of your chest.

"How about y/n?"

"Uh y/n..." You could hear the hesitation in his Bucky's as he contemplated his next words, his tone irritated. "She's whatever. It's not like that"

"Meaning?"

"Uh. I don't know, she sort of follows me around everywhere, there's not a day I don't see her but its not like I ask to see her"

You blinked, your stomach starting to churn. Did you follow him everywhere? You did see him everyday but you didn't realize you were following him.

"I mean she's only that way with you, she's definitely not that comfortable with Steve or me" You could hear Sam trying to reason with Bucky but all he did was scoff, your heart wrenching further.

"Yeah. It's overwhelming"

You wanted to run, wishing you had stayed in bed for an extra 5 minutes, your body now hot, not from how safe he made you feel but from embarrassment. Of course he was overwhelmed with your clinginess, he didn't want to have to deal with a burden like you. He had so much of his own issues to deal with and then there was you.

Guilt started to cloud your mind as you thought about all the times you spent time with Bucky, staying by his side while he reassured you or comforted you. How many of those times were actually annoying for him, how many times did he wish you would suck it up and leave him alone instead.

"She's not really friends with anyone else on the team, I'm not sure why she hangs out with me specifically that much" He sounded even more irritated than before; the rest of the conversation a melted into dull buzz, your heartbeat thudding in your skull.

Your eyes stung, hot tears flooding your lash line at his words. Your bottom lip, trembled despite how hard you were biting down on it; your forced your feet to move, slowly backing away from the kitchen until you were far enough to run to your room. You slammed the door shut, instructing FRIDAY to soundproof the walls and turn away anyone that came by before breaking down into sobs.

All of your insecurities were dialed to 100 along with more being added to the list.

How did you not see how annoying you were being. You felt awful, embarrassed, confused.

Why didn't he say anything?

Of course he wouldn't, he probably felt pity for you. A grown adult woman who struggled to open up and still struggled with her personality. An absolute joke.

You let the day go by, too ashamed to face anyone, let alone Bucky. If he felt irritated, there was no doubt the rest of the team knew exactly how annoying he found you. You couldn't bring yourself to see any of them, deciding to skip both lunch and dinner instead while burying under the covers.

****

Bucky frowned when he didn't see you the whole day, his worries growing more when he didn't see you come by for dinner either.

"Where's y/n?"

"I checked on her during lunch but FRIDAY said she'd requested to be alone" Nat looked at Bucky, confused over how he, of all people, didn't know where you were.

"Aren't you both joined at the hip, how do you not know Barnes" Tony wiggled his eyebrow while Bucky rolled his eyes, too worried about you to retort to Tony's comment.

"I saw her once this morning in the training room but not after that. She seemed fine then" Steve had seen you that morning, happy to see you brighter when he had spoken to you, not missing your shy smile when he'd mentioned Bucky's name. "No one else saw her all day?"

Bucky was immediately out of his seat, making his way over to your room to see you, only to have FRIDAY respond instead.

"Ms. Y/l/n has asked that no one disturb her until further notice"

"For fucks sake" He mumbled, knocking at your door one more time.

"I'm sorry Sergeant Barnes, Ms. y/l/n has asked to be left alone"

Bucky was taken aback when he was tuned away; in the few times you had locked your door from everyone else he'd always been exempt from that list. Why didn't you want to see him either? He reluctantly made his way back, his mind now racing over what could have possibly happened from the night before to now.

****

You had managed to avoid Bucky the next few days, purposefully staying away from the areas you knew he'd be around and staying in your room for most of the day. Whenever he tried to speak to you, you'd find a way to escape the conversation, his words reeling in your mind, reminding you he found you annoying. Overwhelming. Clingy.

You couldn't understand why he was going out of his way to try and talk to you when you were trying so hard to stay away, your heart in pain not being able to spend time with the person you felt the safest with. Your mind made it impossible to get a wink of sleep; you made your way down to the kitchen for a late night snack instead. You grabbed a bowl of popcorn, turning the TV on to your favorite comfort shows needing a temporary distraction.

"Jellybean?"

Bucky made his way through the living room after a late night workout, his heart jumping when his eyes landed on you. He was by your side in an instant, not noticing the way you froze when he sat beside you.

"Hi James"

Bucky blinked, his name sounding foreign on your tongue.

He didn't like it.

Not one bit.

Since when was he James.

"Uh, is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine" You forced a smile, scooting over so you weren't sitting too close to him, your mind racing trying to find a way out of the conversation. Bucky could sense your discomfort but he had no idea why, his heart beating harder against his chest when he noticed your eyes shift, as if you were looking for a way to escape.

"Are-are you sure?"

"Yup!"

"Doll" He noticed the way your eyes continued to flick around the room, refusing to meet his. "Somethings bothering you"

"What makes you say that"

"I-you called me by my name-you never do that"

"What else should I call you" You avoided his gaze, fidgeting with a lose string on a cushion while Bucky felt his stomach drop.

Were you upset with him?

"You always call me sugar plum. Only you do" He shrugged sadly, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout. "You don't call me James"

"Oh" Was all you could muster, feeling your throat close up, hot tears threatening to spill from your lash line. You tried to turn away from him only to have him gently cup your cheek, tilting your chin to face him. His heart broke seeing your glassy eyes while you chewed your lip to keep from crying.

"Please tell me what's wrong, did I do something? Did I say anything?"

"No" You whispered, swallowing thickly, pulling away from him only to have him take your hands in his to keep you from running away.

"C'mon y/n, please?"

"I-I don't mean to follow you around and be so clingy. I'm just trying to give you some space Bucky" You tried to keep your voice steady, hanging your head so he wouldn't see the tears run down your cheeks. Bucky let go of your hands to cup your cheeks again, his thumbs wiping away your tears.

"Jellybean, what are you-

"I heard you talking to Sam" You spat, now annoyed that he was here trying to talk to you when he was the one who felt you followed him around. "I heard you tell him I'm always around you. That you don't even ask to see me but I'm there. I didn't mean to be so overbearing. I felt safe with you so I was closest to you, I didn't realize you felt like I was following you".

"Sweetheart, it's not overwhelming for the reasons you think"

"Then what else could it be Bucky? You could have told me you needed some space, I would've understood. I wouldn't have spend so much time hanging out with you-

"No! I like when you're around me Jellybean" Bucky almost sounded offended you'd suggest such a thing while you shook your head, sniffling.

"You don't have to lie to me-

"Y/n, no. I promise doll, this is just a misunderstanding, that's not that I meant when I was talking to Sam"

"Then what did you mean?" You whispered, confused over what else he could have possibly meant. Bucky felt butterflies in his chest, not fully thinking this through. Should he tell you what the conversation was about? Could it be worse than you thinking he didn't even like you when the truth was the complete opposite?

"I don't want to ruin our friendship if I tell you" Bucky suddenly looked scared, his eyes wide like a lost puppy, vulnerable and afraid. He sucked in a breath before speaking, inching a little closer to you. "Sam was asking about if I'm seeing anyone. He thinks I need to put myself out there"

Oh.

A sudden pang of jealousy hit your chest, the flinch in your face not missed by Bucky.

"He was suggesting..." He bit his lip, chewing it nervously before continuing. "He asked if there was anything between us. He thought maybe you liked me because we're always together" Bucky continued to look at you like a kicked puppy, his own emotions now all over the place. "I didn't think you did. At least not in that way but he kept saying there was something between us"

"It didn't sound like you liked me very much" You shrugged while Bucky frantically shook his head, mentally scolding himself. "I thought you found me too clingy"

"Never. You're never too clingy. M'so so sorry doll, I didn't mean for it to come out that way, you're the only person who I can spend the whole day with, I'm not comfortable around others like I am with you. I love when you come around looking for me. I guess a part of me was upset because Sam wasn't the first to ask me why we weren't together and ask if we were more than friends. I didn't think you'd like me and it's overwhelming for me because I feel so much and...well"

"and?" Bucky blushed, struggling to get the next words out while you anxiously waited for him to continue.

"and I really like you" He whispered, squeezing your hand in his while you shifted closer, letting him pull you onto his lap. His arms circled around your waist, holding you close to him both your hearts racing, his nose bumping against yours.

"You like me?" You felt your cheeks heat up when he nodded, his blue eyes shyly peeking up at you through his lashes.

"I like you jellybean. A lot"

"Even more than m&m's?" You felt him hug you together, your lips brushing against his.

"More than m&m's" He closed the gap between you both, pressing his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly as you gently carded your fingers through his hair. He kissed you until you both needed air, a dopey smile on his face while you snuggled into his chest.

"Does that mean I'm your sugar plum again?" He whispered hopefully making you giggle, kissing him deeply again.

"Always, my sugar plum"

"My jellybean"

****

"Fucking finally" Tony mumbled, his hair ruffled, stifling a yawn as he walked through the living room, grinning at you and Bucky sleeping on the couch.

"I told him" Steve rolled his eyes, snapping a picture of you both cuddled on the couch while Sam snorted, nodding in approval. "Took them long enough"

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @perdidosbucky-yyo @clqrosmgc

[narrycherries]

love of my life

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

✩ chapter 02: please don’t be too good to be true ✩

word count: 3.08k

warnings/tags/info

chapter 01

It was my fourth day in this city, and thankfully it wasn’t raining anymore. I couldn’t do much for a few days except try some restaurants and ride around to see the city from the car’s window. However, I have a good day ahead of me. The French Quarter is one of the most popular places to visit here, and I would be a fool not to experience it. I still had a lot of places on my radar, some that were tourist attractions and others that were hidden gems.

“So.. you never told me how much you paid her.” Chris sighed as he tossed his empty Coke bottle into a trash bin.

“Doesn’t matter.” I shrugged, my eyes roaming over everything as we walked. My sunglasses made things darker, but it made hiding a bit easier.

“Don’t be a prick.”

I huffed. “Five thousand.” He stopped in his tracks, mouth agape as I looked over at him. “What?”

“What do you fancy more.. the painting or the girl?”

My eyes rolled. “She deserves it. She’s talented and she underprices her work.”

“Mhm, I’m sure that’s why.”

“So.. what are we doing next?” I changed the topic quickly before it got out of hand.

Chris sighed as we began to walk again. “Going to see the cathedral.”

We both became silent as we walked down the sidewalk. My eyes were everywhere, taking in the sights and absorbing the feelings. This city was full of culture and diversity and just happiness. All I saw were smiles and happy faces. Chris and I walked until we finally ended up at a corner. My gaze shifted from the people to the huge building in front of us. I could see the side of the St. Louis Cathedral and it was marvelous. Chris guided me through a crowd of people watching a magician. There was a line of women offering to read palms, a couple of street food venders, and what seemed to be a large collection of artists spread out around the area.

Chris looked over at me as we stepped off the sidewalk. “This has got to be a joke, right?”

I furrowed my brows, not entirely sure what he meant. “What?”

He pointed over to the left of us. I followed his movements and tried to line my eyes up with whatever he saw. I was looking, trying to determine it, but I had no clue. When I looked back up at him, he sighed and stepped behind me. He grabbed my shoulders and angled me so I could see whatever it was that baffled him. He pointed directly in front of us and I focused my eyes there. It took me a moment, but I finally realized what he was referring to.

“God.. it must be fate, yeah?”

He huffed. “Luck.”

I smirked and shook off his hand. Chris wasn’t happy when I started walking away from him. He caught up with me and made sure I was as unnoticed as possible. The closer I got to the table, the faster my heart thumped. I licked my lips as I reached the small crowd. Everyone was occupied by looking at some of the canvases, so I took the opportunity to cease the moment I so desperately wanted.

“Those are lovely.” I said, glancing at the small canvases that were placed on stands.

She whipped around, eyes wide and lips parted as she saw me. I grinned at her, lifting the sunglasses up so I could see her better.

“Jennifer.”

“Ha-Harry.. um. Thank you.” She laughed through a breath. “I.. I see you’re exploring the city.”

“You’re welcome.” I nodded. “Of course. Such an interesting place.”

She smiled back, cheeks flushed and eyes dropping from mine. She turned back around to finish putting the paintings on the display stands. I watched her, completely fascinated by her work. She had a great talent. When she faced me again, she glanced at Chris. I gave him a look as well, and somehow he understood. He stepped away, observing some of her other works and giving us some space.

“How are you liking it here?”

“It’s very nice.” I smiled.

She smiled back. “It is.”

“You knew who I was.. the other day.” I blurted, shoving my hands into my pockets.

She took a deep breath, her fingertips tracing over her white table cloth. “Mhm.”

“You.. you didn’t say anything.”

Jennifer shrugged, eyes flicking to mine. “Did you want me to? By your.. outfit.. I was under the impression that you were hiding.”

I chuckled, letting a bigger smile take over my face. It pulled a smile onto her lips as well. “That’s true.. I’m trying to enjoy a vacation for once.”

“It must be exhausting.. trying to hide all the time.”

I exhaled deeply. “Extremely.”

“Excuse me?” A voice caught her attention and interrupted our conversation.

She gave me an apologetic smile. “Just a minute.”

I nodded as she turned away from me to deal with the curious customer. My eyes remained on the table where she had a few smaller paintings and a stack of business cards. The corner of my mouth twitched up as I heard her voice and how professional she is. She was definitely a businesswoman, even if she didn’t realize. She seemed to know how to talk to her customers well.

“How much is this one here?” The woman pointed to the painting across from me.

“That one is two hundred. I can have it shipped to you for two-twenty five.”

“That’s perfect! I will gladly take that off your hands.”

Jennifer laughed ever so slightly, almost like she was surprised. “Here’s some information on the piece.. how to clean it and store it. Also all of my information in case you ever need anything.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw the woman take the papers from her. “Alright.”

“And this,” she handed her a few more. “.. I’ll need your name, address, and contact information. If you don’t want to ship it, then ignore the address stuff. I will take a check if you need to do that.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll fill this out real quick. I can carry it with me, no need to ship.” The lady grabbed a pen from the cup by another stack of business cards and stepped away to write her stuff down.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Jennifer had her attention back on me. She sighed and shook her head before looking up at me, catching my gaze.

“Sorry about that.”

“No, no, you’re fine. I.. shouldn’t be distracting you.”

She smiled gently. “I’m having your painting shipped tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s good, thanks.”

Her cheeks blushed just a little. “You shouldn’t have.”

“What?”

Her eyes rolled. “That check.. all that money.”

I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s perfectly fine. If you would’ve allowed it I would’ve given you triple of what I did give you.”

“Why, though?” She huffed, cocking an eyebrow at me. “Why so much?”

The smirk growing on my lips seemed to make her a little nervous. I noticed how her face flushed and her tongue came out to lick her lips. I saw another person approach the table, but I was determined to keep her attention for a while longer.

“Because I loved the painting. It’s beautiful.” I shrugged to keep things nonchalant, even though she made my heart race. “The water, the sea foam, the sun.. There are many reasons why it’s so beautiful.”

“Not five thousand reasons.” She glanced at the customer who was eyeing each piece intensely. “I’m sorry, but, um.. I don’t really have time to chat.”

“Later, then?”

Jennifer let out a breathy laugh. “Later?”

I ran a hand through my hair, nervousness was taking me over. “Yeah. You’ve got my number.. I’ve got yours.”

“Um, I.” She paused, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. “I don’t know.. about later.”

I made sure she saw me smile, I wanted her to feel comfortable. “Then tomorrow.. or whenever.. I’d love to treat you to dinner.. or lunch, breakfast.. whichever you prefer.”

There was no hiding her blushing cheeks now. She was trying to compose herself and hide her shock with light laughs. She kept glancing at the customer, yet her eyes kept landing on mine, too. She did not want to look away, I could tell, but she was right - she didn’t have time to talk. She had a business, a job she was doing and I was rudely distracting her.

“So I’ll hear from you?” I slowly started to back away from the table.

She swept her long hair out of her face, lips shaping to a smirk. “Later.”

—-

To say I was nervous would be the very least. I was extremely terrified, yet excited about hearing from that amazing woman. I wanted to call her myself, maybe send her a message - but I refrained. I didn’t want to seem pushy, and I wanted her to be comfortable with any communication we had. It was already late into the day. I began to worry about whether or not she would send something or call. What was her version of later?

After our encounter earlier, I completely ditched my plans and insisted we go back to the hotel. I was too frazzled to do anything else. Chris was hesitant at first, and he attempted to change my mind. He failed to do so. I just wanted to be at the hotel and be alone. The city was nice, and touring was going well, I just didn’t want to be around so many people.. I wanted to rot in my room and think about her.

“Still waiting?” Chris shut the balcony door behind him.

“Unfortunately.”

He sighed back. “Worried she won’t call?”

I shrugged, trying not to be too concerned with it. “Not worried.. just impatient.”

My phone was resting on my thigh, but the screen hadn’t lit up since I came out here. Part of me was worried - extremely worried. What if I said something wrong? Did I make her feel weird? Was I too open?

“I think she likes you.”

A gentle smile played on my lips. “I think I like her.”

Chris laughed. “I know you like her.”

“Must be obvious.. Think she’s got any idea?”

“Probably.” He grabbed the handle of the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me know what the plans are in the morning.”

“Alright.”

Despite overlooking some of the city, it was quiet on the balcony. The temperature was nice and it allowed me to relax. I had calmed down a lot since I first stepped out here. My mind was lost, drifting through a ton of thoughts all related to her. What was she like when she painted? I bet she was precise and meticulous - every single stroke of the brush would be accurate and perfect. What was she like in her home away from other people? I wonder if she liked to read or if she preferred a good movie. Did she enjoy fruits or did she have a sweeter tooth? What did she do when she wasn’t occupied with a painting? Did she draw? Did she do ceramics? Did she dabble in any other forms of art?

I wondered if she had a studio or did she paint from a small bedroom in a crowded apartment. Was she solely an artist, or did she have a regular day to day job? I even began to think about things beyond her daily life. Was she an only child? Did she favor her mother? Was she even from the city or did she move here? What were her college years like, did she even attend? Had she been growing her hair out for years or did it grow quickly with each trim? What sort of weather did she prefer? Surely, it couldn’t be anything too cold or icy, at least not if she’s used to be down here.

The sudden ding of my phone made me flinch. I snatched it off my leg and quickly unlocked the screen. My heart started to pump violently, quick and sharp breaths came from my lungs. It was her. I had already saved her number into my phone before I even saw her today, so that was a convenient move. All of this was making me feel like a desperate teenager.

From Jennifer: hello, hope it isn’t too late

A laugh fell from my lips. What a cheeky thing she was. I took a deep breath while typing my reply. I was unsure if I should immediately reply or not. Would that send an awkward message? I had been waiting all day, and I’m sure she expected a reply.

To Jennifer: hi, it definitely isn’t too late :)

I stood up from the chair and went back inside my suite. My body was tired, but my heart and mind were wide awake. I laid down on the bed, eyes locked on the screen waiting for a new message. After a minute, I worried that she wouldn’t be quick with a response. I wondered if she thought that would make her seem desperate? I had the same thought about myself.

From Jennifer: good, I would’ve been disappointed if it was :)

To Jennifer: I’d hate to disappoint you

A wave of relief washed through me. Maybe she was just as interested in me as I was in her. She truly was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

From Jennifer: I’m sure you won’t

To Jennifer: so, have you picked which meal you’d like me to treat you with? I’m sure you know the best restaurants around

From Jennifer: no I haven’t actually :) surprise me?

To Jennifer: well, when are you available?

From Jennifer: busy tomorrow, but the next day I’m free all day :) just let me know when!

To Jennifer: let me know where?

From Jennifer: I will.

From Jennifer: I hate to go, but I’m very tired. Got a busy day ahead :/

To Jennifer: that’s perfectly understandable. I’ll text you tomorrow then

From Jennifer: okay! good night :)

To Jennifer: goodnight

I tossed the phone on the nightstand and put my hands over my face. My heart was fluttering and my stomach was flipping like I had just jumped out of an airplane. Normally, I was more composed than this. This girl has me feeling like I’ve never spoken to a human being before.. and I was enjoying the insane feelings.

—

I hardly got any sleep last night. The overwhelming thought of seeing her again was eating me alive. Why was I so nervous? Usually, I’m very relaxed and comfortable when it comes to meeting new people or going on dates, if that’s what I can call it. But for some reason, all of that confidence and familiarity has gone down the drain. I’ve been acting like a teenage virgin who’s going on his very first date.

The worst part about all of this was that I still have to wait an entire day. I decided that I needed some help with the details, and I just wanted to know someone’s opinion. There was no better person to call than my mother.

The phone rang a few times, then her cheerful voice picked up. “Honey, hi!”

“Hi, Mum.”

“How are you doing, sugar? Having a good time, I hope.”

I sighed. “It’s going well, yeah.. um.. I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Oh,” She seemed very surprised. “What is it?”

I took a deep breath, then squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m.. going on a date tomorrow.”

“Wow, okay. This is mighty early for you to be telling me about a woman.. you usually wait a couple of weeks.” She quickly responded the way I expected her to.

This has never happened, I always, always wait to see how things go before telling her. I don’t like getting her hopes up.

“When.. when did you meet her?” She asked after my moment of silence.

“Few days ago. I know it’s.. very soon, but.. trust me.. I.. I feel something.”

“Honey, I.. you know I love you and I’m going to always support you..” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “But, baby, you’ve only been there a few days.. how can you be sure that you’ve felt something special?”

“The way I feel around her, Mum. I.. I feel like I’m floating.. like I’m looking at something that’s too good to be true, like an angel. Gosh, she’s such an angel.”

“What do you know about her?”

I paused for a second. “Not.. not a lot, yet. But.. I know I want to know everything, I never want her to disappear.”

Mum chuckled very faintly. “You’re the sweetest boy on earth, Harry. You deserve love.. and happiness. But.. I don’t want you to rush into something because you’re heartbroken.”

My chest tightened as I rolled my eyes. “It’s been over a year. I’m fine now. Besides.. I don’t even think about that when I’m around this girl.”

“How.. how are you sure that this girl isn’t.. interested because of who you are?”

I sighed heavily. “Mum, trust me. Please, just.. trust me.”

“I want what’s best for you, honey. I.. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

Despite not wanting to tell her everything all at once, I figured I owed her an explanation of some sorts. Besides, it isn’t like its a bad story to tell.

“I went to the museum the other day.. the art museum. There was a special exhibit and she was set up there.. I bought one of her pieces.”

“She’s an artist?”

I smiled at the word. “For sure. She’s incredible, Mum. But.. I saw her again, yesterday.”

“You went back to the museum to see her?” She asked curiously.

“No, I saw her somewhere else. I talked to her for a few minutes and.. we kinda arranged a date.”

“Oh, well.. that’s a lovely coincidence.”

I sighed gently. “Mum.. I really want this to work out.”

“Then let it play out naturally, darling. Don’t rush anything or.. try to push anything to happen.”

At this point, my biggest fear was losing this girl. I didn’t necessarily have her in any way yet, but the opportunity to get to know her was enough motivation. Nothing in my personal life had seemed to work out in the past, and for once I just wanted something genuine.

…

[a/n: unfortunately the day I chose to upload followed a very sad, tragic event.. sending my thoughts, prayers, condolences, & love to Liam’s family, his friends, to the other four boys, and to all the little directioners still living in our hearts, 13 year old me is shattered.. — remember to have some humanity.. despite anything he did or didn’t do during his life.. he is someone’s child, brother, father, and friend, and his loved ones deserve respect during this time 🫶🏻]

taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl l @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @devilsqueen722 @prettygurl-2009 @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @devilsqueen722 @prettygurl-2009 (there are a few tags that aren’t working so if you don’t see your tag & know you’re on the list .. message me!)

[nerdanel01]

Substitutionary Satisfaction (18+)

Emmrich Volkarin/F!Rook 4k+ wc | NSFW/18+  Agnes unravels a bit after having to share a tent with Emmrich in the Necropolis five nights in a row.

EXCERPT: In Rolf’s bed, for a brief period of time, all was possible: that neither the professional boundaries nor the age difference between them would stand between them. That Emmrich would one day stop seeing her as a young girl and instead as a woman, that one day he might even love her. 

9:38 Dragon

Agnes had only been in the Necropolis for two weeks—no longer than any of the other expeditions she had undertaken with Ser Volkarin over the years, but it had felt far longer. The last days of their trip had passed with excruciatingly slowness. To Agnes’ great relief, when at last they had ascended, back to the upper levels of the Necropolis where the Mourn Watch remained in permanent residence, it was dinnertime. 

That, at least, was one aspect of her position within the Mourn Watch that Agnes could wholeheartedly embrace. Nevarrans were passionate about food, and the Watchers were no exception; the guard employed a fine cadre of cooks who ensured that the Watchers had three set meals a day, each served at designated, regularly scheduled times in the dining hall. For those Watchers who may have missed meals during their shifts patrolling the Necropolis, the kitchens were always prepared with finely cut cheese and fruit waiting—perhaps even warm bread and a bit of stew if you caught the kitchens at the right time. 

But for once, it was not the complex depth of flavors of the food, nor the full belly that would follow that Agnes looked forward to. The kitchen had prepared one of her favorites—a savory oxtail stew, prepared with spices in the Antivan style—but Agnes had little appetite, picking at her food perfunctorily with her fork. 

Rather, Agnes’ relief came from the fact that the dining hall was (as usual) loud; cacophonous; packed with Watchers. The two long tables that stretched down the narrow hall were packed full. Beside Agnes, Ser Volkarin was regaling Commander Johanna and any other Watcher who cared to listen with the details of their recent trip. 

Which meant, at last, a welcome reprieve from Volkarin’s attention.

The bond between them (ordinarily quite amiable) had come under uncommon strain during this last trip. On the ninth day of their fortnight-length journey, they had lost one of their supply packs under pursuit from yet another of the Necropolis’ uncatalogued denizens. Due to the loss of supply, Agnes had suggested—rather strongly—that they turn back attempt to make an early return to the Mourn Watch. But Ser Volkarin, after taking stock of the supply that remained and determining it was to his satisfaction, had insisted they complete the original expedition as planned.

A consequence of which was: for the last five nights of the trip, Agnes and Ser Volkarin had been reduced to sharing one tent.

If the lower levels of the Necropolis were not so dangerously cold, Agnes would have slept on the floor outside and let Volkarin have the tent to himself, rather than suffer the discomfort of sharing that narrow space. As it was she had spent the remainder of the ninth day dangerously distracted by thought, problem-solving, trying to figure out an alternative to the inevitable. But at the end of the day, when they pitched the tent, when Ser Volkarin slipped inside… Agnes felt she had no other real option but to join him. 

If this unexpected intimacy perturbed Volkarin in the least, he gave no sign. But from the moment Agnes entered the shared tent on that first evening, she felt herself begin to fray. The little sounds Volkarin made when he slept, great contented sighs and the occasional soft snore. The regular rhythm of his breath. His body, close enough to touch deliberately or accidentally—touching her already, really, his back brushing against hers ever so slightly when he drew in a breath. Frightened she would become drunk on the smell of him.

By the twelfth day of the trip, Agnes found herself snapping at Volkarin over the littlest things. Rebuffing his praise of her; rebuking him, occasionally. There was no hiding her irritation from him, and although Volkarin seemed confounded by this sudden change in her demeanor, he was graceful enough not to comment upon it, a fact for which Agnes was most grateful. 

How was Agnes to explain to him that she was irritable from lack of sleep? That she had spent the last three nights awake, back to back with him and stiff as a board, clutching her arms tightly around her own body like a straightjacket for fear of how those same arms might betray her if she allowed herself to slip off to sleep?

Now, at dinner, Volkarin was more than happy to give Agnes plenty of space. Agnes did not blame him. The last day, in particular, had not been pleasant between them. Though they sat side by side at the same long table in the dining hall, they were in separate worlds: Volkarin, chatting excitedly with Johanna about one of the crypts they had come across in the Necropolis and Agnes, exhausted and yet still wound awfully full of tension she could not release, picking disinterestedly at her stew.

“And goodness, the details on the facade of the Van Wyck mausoleum! The vibrancy of the colors, Johanna! I really should show you Agnes’ sketch later, it is a shame we did not have any colored pastels or something of the like for her to try and replicate those incredible hues…”

Unengaged as she was in both meal and conversation, it did not take Agnes long to notice Watcher Rolf was watching her, staring at her across the room from the opposite dining table. At first Agnes thought their eyes had simply met by coincidence. But then Rolf lifted his spoon to his mouth and, eyes trained on hers, licked deliberately and lasciviously along the spoon’s curved bowl. That, Agnes was certain, was deliberate. She fought the revulsion in the pit of her stomach, and repressed the urge to roll her eyes. The man was a total ingrate. But…

“In the Ghentsburg ossuary Agnes found this breathtakingly detailed mosaic of beetle-wings—in the magelight, Johanna, it sparkled like the sea under the sun…”

But that did not stop Agnes from rising to follow Rolf when he left the Dining Hall several minutes later, leaving Volkarin and Johanna behind, following Rolf wordlessly into the dormitories and then across the threshold into his private chamber. 

Rolf’s hands were on her waist the moment they reached the room, before he’d even had the decency to close the door behind them, still open to the hall for anyone who cared to glance inside and see him groping at her. But with Rolf, at least, Agnes felt no burden to hide, nor protect him from the tension and irritation that had been building within her for going on a week. She wrenched herself out of his grip and slammed the door shut behind them. Rolf only laughed lightly in response, somehow childishly amused by the fact that she had no desire to be caught in flagrante delicto by any other Watcher who might care to pass by.

But then Rolf was muffling that laugh against the back of her neck, running his wide hands up the front of her body, thigh to stomach to breasts, and Agnes released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, relaxing back into the touch. He kissed a path from her shoulder to her ear, sucked on the lobe rapaciously as he began to free the buttons on the front of Agnes’ blouse. 

And although all common sense made clear it was Watcher Rolf behind her and no other, Agnes closed her eyes… imagining another room, another’s hands, another’s soft breath on her skin. 

Substitution. A practice highly cautioned against in alchemy as in other magics, where the reaction between elements was so finely calibrated that any errant inclusion could throw an entire spell catastrophically awry. Substituting one herb for a like one could result in a far less effective concoction—or one that was outright dangerous. 

But sometimes, in life, when one did not have access to what one wanted—what one, perhaps, needed—such substitutions, perhaps, could not be avoided.

Behind her, Rolf whispered against her ear, sullying the illusion: “You are so beautiful,” he told her, shelling her unbuttoned blouse off her shoulders, cupping at her breasts.

A hot flash of irritation shot through her. Rolf knew their rules. Agnes turned in his arms to give him a look of darkest reproach, commanding him, “Do not speak.”

Then, she began to push him back towards the bed.

Like most of the great disruptions in Agnes’ life, this recent arrangement with Rolf had come about entirely because of the meddling of her father. 

Now that Lord Halkias had successfully married off all of her younger step brothers and sisters, he had turned his attention back to Agnes: his bastard, eldest child. His spare. At the time, Agnes had not heard from him since she had been dispatched to the Circle at Perendale twelve years ago. In fact no one, neither her father nor step siblings (nor of course Lord Halkias’ wife, who despised her) had written her so much as a letter since she had left the estate at age fourteen. That had suited Agnes just fine, as she was perfectly content to wash her hands of them and the six years she had spent on the estate. 

Suddenly, however, Lord Halkias seemed to have been awakened to the unexpected value of his bastard child. Through no encouragement nor support of his own, Agnes had managed to earn herself a position in the Mourn Watch, one of the most prestigious designations within the Mortalitasi. Among all of his children, Agnes was the only mage. And it seemed he had finally put two and two together, and determined that though he himself might see little worth in Agnes, someone else indeed might—a connection to the Mourn Watch was, among certain elite social circles, a highly desirable thing.

So, at the ripe age of 27, when most other noble women had already had their first if not their  second or third child, Lord Halkias was trying to arrange a marriage for Agnes—a goal which Agnes herself was determined to frustrate. Long ago, however, she had learned the best policy of resisting her father was passive. Rather than challenge him outright, she went on each of the dates that he arranged for her… and followed each with a scathing note to Lord Halkias on why that particular individual was entirely unsuitable to be her spouse. 

Which was how she had ended up, one sunny afternoon in Nevarra City, sitting and sipping coffee and nibbling on cakes with Watcher Rolf. 

Lord Halkias’ had thought himself clever for suggesting the match; Agnes could tell from the tone of his letter. Rolf was a second son of a powerful Cumberland family. Though Halkias made no mention of it, Agnes was certain that Rolf’s family held charter to either a shipping contract or some other mercantile advantage Halkias wished to take advantage of. In addition to that, Rolf was remarkably well matched to her in age (which had not been the case with all of her father’s choices), and he was himself part of the Mourn Watch. Ostensibly, that gave them a level of common ground on which to build a romantic relationship upon. 

But the entire experience had been excruciating. Agnes had not spent much time with Rolf before that afternoon, but things became clear to her within several minutes of sitting down. Rolf clearly thought himself funny; in Agnes’ opinion, he was absolutely not. He also clearly thought himself handsome, with his green eyes and his straw colored hair, which Agnes supposed might have been true if you liked that sort of thing. Worst of all, he had no intellectual depth or curiosity to him whatsoever.

Truthfully, neither Rolf nor any of the suitors her father set her up with had any fair chance to make an impression upon her.  Agnes spent her days with a man she had privately come to think of as one of the most brilliant minds in Nevarra, if not in Thedas writ large. Not only that, he was uncommonly chivalrous and kind... and Agnes would prefer the warmth of his dark eyes to Rolf’s greens any day of the week. 

How could anyone, anywhere, possibly measure up to Emmrich?

At the cafe in Nevarra City, when Rolf had called for the bill, he had asked Agnes when they could see each other again. Either he had failed entirely to observe her total lack of interest in him, or else he was utterly undeterred by it. Perhaps, Agnes mused, in his feeble mind, the afternoon had been a resounding success.

Agnes had paused over the rim of her teacup, surveying him. His confidence, his eagerness, his plain attraction for her, unreciprocated though it might be. 

“Other than passing each other occasionally within the walls of the Necropolis?” she had told him, casually. “We will not see each other again, I am afraid. Not like this, as a potential romantic courtship.” 

“However…” Agnes had continued, hardly believing her own gall, fighting the blush in her cheeks and keeping her eyes fixed on her tea and not on Rolf’s face, “while this brings a swift conclusion to our romantic exploration, that does not mean I would be opposed to a strictly physical relationship. If that were desirable to you.”

Which was how she hand ended up back in Watcher Rolf’s dormitory that very same night, her knees planted in the carpet, her face buried in his lap… imagining that the hand running through her hair and tugging at her scalp was Emmrich’s hand; that the thighs trembling under the pleasure of her mouth were Emmrich’s thighs; that those were Emmrich’s appreciative low groans of arousal. Dripping wet, fingers crooked deeply inside of herself, Agnes had finished even before Rolf had, moaning her release around his cock as her body filled with lightness.

It was an arrangement Agnes had never imagined herself a part of, at that moment, she found herself strangely thankful for it. She had spent the last five nights strung tight with desire, wanting so terribly to act on it, knowing all the same how completely catastrophic that could be for her, both professionally and personally. One way or another, she needed a release.

They had backed up to Rolf’s bed, and he was lifting the hem of Agnes’ skirts. But, “Not like this,” Agnes commanded, turning in his arms to face the opposite direction, bent over his mattress, facing the headboard.

A low huff of something—appreciation? Vulgarity?—came from behind her, and she felt Rolf’s hands palming over her ass as he told her, “You sure do prefer it from behind, Gallatus.”

Facing away from him as she was, Agnes was free to roll her eyes at that comment. What an idiot Rolf was, what an ugly and crass thing to say. ‘No, I simply don’t prefer you, but I am left with no other recourse to scratch this particular itch.’

But the irritation only lasts a moment, soon replaced by a sense of delicious, tight anticipation in her chest at the light chime of metal on metal, Rolf uncinching his belt. Agnes released a long, slow exhale, fisting her hands in Rolf’s bedsheets, and closing her eyes.

Transporting herself.

…Over the years she had only caught the tiniest peeks at Emmrich’s private rooms through his doorway, but the luxurious burgundy color of his bedsheets had pressed itself irrevocably into her memory. And it would smell so keenly of Emmrich, there, just as it had in the tent—like bergamot and pepper and dusty old tomes. Her imagination transfigured the chiming of Rolf’s belt into the clink of Emmrich’s bangles, the bracelets that adorned his arms, the many jeweled rings on his long fingers. 

When he entered her, Agnes was not thinking of Rolf at all.

She was thinking of all the things that she wanted but could never have. Of Emmrich’s hands on her body. The same elegant, well-manicured fingertips that would point out the most fascinating passages to her in whatever book or scroll he was reading; the same tanned, long-fingered hands that caressed her drawings with such reverent wonder (to be looked at once by him the way he looks at her sketches!); the same hands that now dug deeply into the meat of her hips, drawing Agnes’ body back towards his as he sheathed himself totally inside of her.

Agnes’ hand flew to her mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure and sheer relief that flooded through her, the warmth spiraling out from her stomach and flushing out into her limbs. The euphoria of fullness, the wanting in absence, and then the exhilarating rush of fullness again as Emmrich drew her back against him. The wet sound of their copulating, soft living flesh smacking against flesh and skin and meat each time Emmrich’s hips met the curve of her ass. The light rake of his nails down her bare back, his little huffs of breath as he thrust behind her. Giddying, mind-numbing joy as his fingers carefully unpinned the crown of hair around her head, sending black waves tumbling down her shoulders and around her face, running his fingers through it appreciatively.

In no time Agnes was writhing beneath him, arching her back to meet each of Emmrich’s thrusts, leaning into them to drive his cock deeper inside of her. So rapturous so gratifying so good one almost forgot to breathe, but then when one did—! Rockets of pleasure shooting through her body, coiling tight, driving her relentlessly towards her finish. 

Imagining the look on Emmrich’s face. His beautiful eyes, his mouth open and slack with pleasure. The drag of her name in his throat, what it might sound like spoken hoarsely around his satisfaction: “Agnes.”

Climax took her, white lightning of pleasure reducing her body to a trembling, sparkling, magnificent mess—all the tension she had carried in the Necropolis utterly unspooling into a warmth that carried her out of herself into a space of pure bliss, stifling her answering cry—“Emmrich!”—against the back of her hand. 

As the pleasure faded, so too did the illusion Agnes had constructed for herself. Eyes blinking open to Watcher Rolf’s messy quarters, not the precise and homey cleanliness that was the hallmark of Emmrich’s space. Reality creeping back in. 

This was why she maintained the arrangement, why she kept returning to Watcher Rolf though the man objectively disgusted her. In Rolf’s bed, for a brief period of time, all was possible: that neither the professional boundaries nor the age difference between them would stand between them. That Emmrich would one day stop seeing her as a young girl and instead as a woman, that one day he might even love her. But every time—as the pleasure faded, as her heart rate slowed, and her reason was restored—so was Agnes’ certainty that Emmrich would never see her that way. That this—fucking Rolf—was the closest she’d ever get to feeling what it would be like for Emmrich to reciprocate her feelings.

Strange combination. To be so fucked out and spent and tingling with pleasure, and to be utterly heartbroken at once. 

Agnes sniffed, stood, swept her hair out of her face. Then, without a word to Rolf, she turned and began to collect herself, pulling on first her smallclothes, then her multiple skirts, then hunting about the room for wherever it was that Rolf had flung her blouse.

“You don’t have to leave, you know.” Rolf had stretched himself across his bed, naked body glowing with a thin sheen of sweat. “You could stay.”

“Why?” Agnes cast him the most uninterested of glances. “We both got what we needed, did we not?” At last she found her blouse on the floor and pulled it over her shoulders, buttoning up the front and straightening out the cuffs of her sleeves. 

Rolf hesitated. That was unusual. He had an outsized confidence; hesitation was not really part of his playbook. Then he asked her, the tiniest edge of hope creeping into his voice:

“I know that’s what we arranged. But don’t you think this could be more than that?”

He might as well have proposed they pack up and run away to Ferelden together, for the wild look of shock and refusal Agnes gave him. “No,” she answered, immediately, without emotion or empathy, or even the slightest bit of guilt. “Goodnight,” she told him, then slipped out the door.

She had just finished pinning back up the last of her hair, restoring her pristine image of neatness when none other than Emmrich himself rounded the corner, making his way to his own rooms to retire for the evening.

“Good evening,” he greeted her; then added, with a delighted, conspiratory smile, “You left dinner early. Have you been spending more time with your young gentleman friend?”

How was it that nothing seemed to escape his notice—except for her affection for him, which grew more and more impossible to conceal by the day? 

Thinking of the way Rolf had licked his spoon at dinner to summon her, Agnes’ upper lip gave a nasty, disgusted twitch. “He is no gentleman.” Not compared with the gentleman in front of her, the very standard of courtesy and honor, genteel and sensitive. 

Emmrich’s brows knit together. There was a sudden tension around his mouth, a darkness and an intensity in his eyes that Agnes had not seen before. 

“What do you mean?” he asked her, his voice direct and serious, something threatening in his tone. All the charm and joviality stripped from it. “Did he—has Rolf made an unwelcome overture to you? Did he try to force you?”

Protective. That’s what the look on his face was. Worried about her, concerned for her, ready to rise to her defense if needed. The rush of love Agnes felt then was so powerful it dwarfed the endorphin rush of her orgasm only a few moments before.

“No!” she was quick to cut him off, to assuage his worries. “No, it’s nothing like that.” In fact, the thought would have been slightly laughable, had Emmrich not been so visibly concerned for her. Pound for pound Rolf may have had an advantage over Agnes, but there was not a single mage among the Mourn Watch who could outmatch Agnes in close quarters combat. If Rolf had ever tried anything like that, she would have had no trouble putting a stop to it with a swift dislocation of his arm—or worse. 

“Honestly, Ser Volkarin, it’s just that Watcher Rolf is so impossibly dull.”

Emmrich looked at her blankly for a moment, then laughed, all the tension in his face dissipating with that sound. Agnes loved his laugh, a study in contrasts: Emmrich was so civilized and dignified, but his laugh was an almost sinister cackle, and it built upon itself as his mirth swelled. “Oh, poor fellow,” he said, at last, looking almost on the verge of tears, so delighted he was and relieved to hear his initial suspicion was incorrect. “So that will be the end of it, then? His loss, I am sure.”

“Most definitely his loss,” Agnes said, returning Emmrich’s smile. This was what it was meant to feel like between them—the easiness of a well-worn friendship, not the tense bickering that had filled the days preceding. But while the lone, shared tent might have contributed to that bickering, Agnes still new (in the illumination of her post-fuck clarity) that her behavior towards him had been abysmal, and it was entirely her own fault. 

“Ser Volkarin, I’m sorry,” she told him, softening her gaze. “The last few days, I know I have been… less than pleasant, to be around. Our last descent was unexpectedly trying for me, but I will endeavor not to react that way in the future.”

“You are always a pleasure to be around,” Emmrich told her without missing a beat. Such warmth and affection in his gaze. “It is my fault as much as yours. You wanted to turn back; I insisted we press onwards. Forgive me, for my stubbornness. Shall I make it up to you now? Would you like to stop by the study for a pot of tea before we retire? You are welcome to tell me all the ways in which Rolf is an unsuitable match for you.”

How she would have liked that! If she had ever imagined anything happening between her and Emmrich, that was often how she pictured it: late night, all softness and tenderness spilling over into something new and other. The temptation to accept Emmrich’s offer was powerfully strong.

But she was very cognizant of the pressing need for her to take contraceptive herbs with her tea—something that would absolutely not escape Emmrich’s notice, and something she had zero interest in explaining to him.

“As much as I’d like that, I’d better not,” she told him. “After that trip, I am very much looking forward to my own bed.”

“Very well.” Was it just her imagination, or did he look ever so slightly put out by her refusal? “Pleasant dreams, Agnes. See you in the morning.”

[ayabeanworks]

Title: Friends

Synopsis: In which you're reminiscing about how you met Gojo and became his friend, and your thoughts on the strongest sorcerer as you observe him from his teen years to his adult years.

Character: Gojo Satoru x reader

Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)

Notes: Pure fluff.

Gojo Satoru isn't someone a person can get close to so easily. Physically, there's his infinity, one of which can block out curses, objects etc thrown with cursed energy. But mentally, he's someone who doesn't allow others to get close to him, letting only a very select few have membership to his sacred spaces.

He likes others no matter what he says - loves people, even (not that he'd ever admit it to a living person). Except, there's a fine line between him and everything and/or everyone else. It may be the loneliness from being at the top, or the dangers of knowing or befriending someone who's one of the strongest in the jujutsu world. He's also rich and born into a prominent clan, so some may even reason that some are after his money and clan name. Or, he just doesn't care for everyone else enough that he can be perceived this way.

So it makes you freeze when you realised he'd welcomed you into his space and as a friend, that you start wondering more about Gojo Satoru, and the type of person he is under his exterior, and how it even got to this point to begin with.

In his teen years, he was an interesting person who loved making jokes and performing pranks, being the ever annoying, instigating person he was (to be fair, he kind of was now, too). By interesting, you meant that he was different from others, especially in the field of jujutsu and all that was involved, and how differently he acted to everyone else you've known in your life, not just jujutsu sorcerers. A cocky, arrogant bastard whose presence would pop a vein every time he opened his mouth, but not too many words could be said in the face of raw power, as he could probably beat you in any field considering he's a genius and if he tried his hand at things.

Ever since he saved you back then from the curse that had been attached to you for who knows how long (that you had no idea to get rid of, too), you'd thought of him as a saviour - but afterwards, all thoughts went downhill as you realised the way he acted wasn't what you thought your saviour would be like, so you were disappointed and all your expectations were thrown out the window.

Even though it was like that, you couldn't stop yourself from observing him, since it came naturally as the first person you knew from the jujutsu world. Your eyes would glance at him from time to time to see what he's doing, since there was always something interesting to see, be it stabbing his eraser, annoying Suguru when Yaga wasn't looking, trying to take Shoko's cigarettes away so she would stop smoking so much, and so on.

Even though your first impression of him was one of relief, gratitude and thankfullness, it did go downhill to rock bottom, but the longer time you spent with him, you realise he's just...Satoru. And with that realisation, you accepted that your expectation of him was too high, and that he didn't deserve to have such an expectation thrown onto him unconsciously. He was just a teenage boy, just that there was a lot going on from all angles. So from then on, you decided that you would treat him as just Satoru, not the strongest, not a Gojo, just...Satoru.

Even though he was a cocky, arrogant bastard, at times he was surprisingly a person who had great points. Some things you've noticed: unmentioned food and drink shouts (you're not sure if the others see it too, but you've caught him on more than one occasion pre-paying for the food and being the one to bring it to the table after being the one to order and pay), thoughtful conversations when you can't sleep (there were times when being a jujutsu sorcerer would stress you out, and you needed time to think, so you sat in the common areas or with your light on in your room, and he would just invite himself in and converse with you and make lighthearted jokes to make you feel better), and the ability to make someone feel better just by being in their presence. Really, you didn't think he needed to do all this, but when you mentioned it to him one time with some examples, all he did was ignore you and run away, red in the ears.

He was so embarrassed he didn't look at you for a whole 3 days, and every time you wanted to talk to him, he would find an excuse to run away. Shoko & Suguru had to coax him to talk to you. He eventually did, but like before, eyes hidden under circular sunglasses, ears burning red, he was louder than usual, trying to mask his embarrassment with cockiness. You knew better though, only laughed and gave him a hug.

You'll keep it a secret that his heart was pounding so fast and so loud you could feel AND hear it. He's had enough embarrassment for a while.

And yes, he did return the hug, resting his cheek on the top of your head as he hugged you close without his infinity.

He also didn't let go until you started hitting him and Shoko & Suguru were making fun of him for starting his first love.

Even though he doesn't admit some things, you know that underneath everything, he has a soft heart for those he cares about, and cares deeply about those who he needs to protect. You don't know how deep he cares and cannot fathom it, but seeing him care for his friends on a daily basis and sometimes on missions, albeit more on the secret side, truly makes it a spectacle. And even more surprisingly, when he begins to integrate behaviours others do that he's seen, and repeats those same actions to others that it makes your eyes widen in wonder and your lips part in surprise.

Even though you trusted him with your life, you didn't know if you could trust him with your emotions. There was something unspoken between the two of you, where you regarded each other as good friends, or maybe even more than that, bordering a very intricate and fine line. Someone each other could trust within a multitude of layers into the soul. Yet, both of you kept an arms reach away from each other, yet continued to call each other friends.

Even though he's one of the two strongest out of the first years, the more time you spent with him, you realise that he's just like the pet cat you used to own when you were younger. This realisation came late, when you were wondering what made some actions he did, incredibly familiar. And it turns out, he's just a cat, and an annoying one.

The years you observe him and his behaviours was stored in your mind like a precious memory, and once you realised that you were indeed friends with the Gojo Satoru it made you so surprised. He let you into his space first by proclaiming to the world you were friends, but you were reluctant to go in because it was him. But you had a soft spot for friends who you've come to rely on and love, so it wasn't long before you accepted it without any qualms.

Which is why, when you observe him from his teen years to his adult years, you notice all the changes he went through to become who he was today.

He's matured.

He's still silly, annoying and still a little bit of a cocky bastard, but that's just what makes up Gojo Satoru.

Your friend.

And you wouldn't change it for the world.

A/N: This is part of a little series! Gojo's is the first, then Geto and Shoko. There's bits and pieces of more background information in the others, which will help you get a fuller picture of everything happening. Think Easter eggs 😉

To read Suguru's part, click here!

For Shoko's, read here!

And for part 2 (Membership) of this fic and for Gojo's POV, click here!

[blingblong55]

If I didn't know better- 141

Based on a request and a personal need:

hi! i was wondering if you could do heavy angst for a fem reader? i’m not sure what but uggg i love angst

Angst, F!Reader, death of character, Platonic!Relationship

A/N: I recently cried over Marjorie by Taylor Swift and this request came up at a great time.

If I didn't know betterI'd still think you were talking to me now If I didn't know any better I'd think you were still around

Grief (noun) deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death.

They say people can die from a broken heart and maybe that would be the best option for you at this point. They also say that at some point when you lose someone you love, perhaps just maybe you would start to hallucinate. And at the funeral, where now he lies, dressed in his best suit, you might begin to think this was just some imposter, that maybe he was alive. Some kind of dream.

-------

Three days ago, the task force was assigned to make the most challenging decision. Infiltrate into a Russian base. It was meant to be easy until Ghost and Gaz were ambushed and safe, but the trio in which you found yourself had much different luck.

You had told Price you had a bad feeling about this mission. You wanted to pull out of it, felt something in your gut, telling, no, begging you to stay at the base.

Communication systems broke down. You were stuck in a confined space, limbs weak. Price and Soap trying their best to get them and you out of that space.

"It's okay, Bonnie, I'll get us out, just wait and see." He reassured you, Price trying to push the vast wall that collapsed on you three, Soap holding your hand. You, well you see you had gone through something similar as a child, except, you were surrounded by other children, 12 trapped, 3 survived.

Soap was the one who knew the whole story, Price knew bits of it. That's why they fought hard to get you out, not them, but you. After 13 hours of continuous struggle, you all got out, "Told ya, Bonnie" he kissed your cheek.

It was hell after that though. Ghost and Gaz are back at base, stuck in the hard bed of the med-bay. Nurses and doctors had to tame them, they would wake up, screaming and fighting. Took many soldiers to put Ghost back into that bed.

They hadn't heard from any of you since their ambush. At some hour, Ghost feared for the outcome. Gaz on the bed next to his, "They'll be a'right mate, I know it." he tried to reassure his teammate.

Once the three of you reached a safe house, things were calm, for a while. "Think Gaz and Ghost are doing well?" Soap spoke first, breaking the silence. You all three sat on a sofa, staring into nothing.

"Maybe" you softly answer. "Better be." Price spoke next.

After that, you snuggled into soaps side, resting as he watched over you. Always your guardian angel.

Three hours into your sleep, you wakened up by an alarmed Price. "GET YOUR WEAPONS, ITS TIME TO MOVE!" He yelled over a loud sound, possibly a bomb.

Soap took you by the hand, guiding you out, you coughed through the smoke. Bullets being shot at what you thought was the enemy. You all ran, gaining bruises as you passed by rocks and tree branches. At some point Price signals you two to run faster, guns in hand.

Smoke and fire surround you. Enemy soldiers rushing at you three. Price and you start to shoot at the enemy, taking some down. Soap is being protected by you two, he builds an explosive strong enough to take a few of them down.

"GET DOWN!" He commands, Price and you obey, the bomb goes off, and at least 7 enemy soldiers scatter to bits from it. Blood falling from the sky. 19 more to go.

Mud, so much dust and blood on your uniforms staining your soul. And it's true what they say, war is never fun, kind or welcoming to those who fight it. It's not even rewarding, it leaves you scarred and nearly dead every time you pick a gun up. You die with each bullet you fire, not physically but mentally you do.

It's war and it will never be fair.

"GO, GO, GO!" Price commanded, he ran behind you two, leaving no one, at least you two, behind.

You hide by some creek, and you all sit there, waiting for the next attack and listening to the water flow down. You took some of the water, cleaning your face which was full of nothing but mud and some blood. "Think Ghost has been tranquillised, by now?" Soap never fails to know his teammates. Price chuckles, "No doubt that kid is giving 'em hell."

"19 left," you softly say.

"What's that about, Bonnie?"

"19 more enemy soldiers," you look up at them, the cold wind now hitting your face.

Long limbs and frozen swims You'd always go past where our feet could touch And I complained the whole way there

"I told you Price, this one would be hard, I knew it'd be."

"Look kid, this is war, nothing will be fucking easy, we are soldiers, we follow orders and execute them to absolute precision."

Soap gave you a kind look. He was always the one to trust your gut, knowing you had a reason to feel this.

For hours after, you all walked in silence. Boots making the noise, it was now around 2am, so close to the base, yet so far. At some point you find yourself in the cold mountains of the country, only surrounded by the snow and stones.

You all sat down, looking at each other, not saying a word. "Shit couldn't get any worse for us." he chuckles,

Soap and you chuckle with him. You all start to tell stories, about the days of your young years in the military. These were the conversations worth keeping for years to come.

The car ride back and up the stairs I should've asked you questions I should've asked you how to be Asked you to write it down for me Should've kept every grocery store receipt 'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

An hour passes the cold stormy weather, messing with your vision. "This is the plan, we go south for now, try and avoid attention, understand?" Price asks, looking at you both.

For the next thirty minutes, you walk, jog and run. Desperately wanting to find some ally to help you. Unfortunately, one met their demise.

5 soldier,s left to just three of you, an easy task. What happened next left the two of you empty.

Price took out two, you one. Only two left, Soap and you take out another, the scope in his gun finally being of good use. One left, what's more, to ask.

All your closets of backlogged dreams And how you left them all to me

"Bonnie!" Soap pushed you to the ground, and a gunshot echoed around. "Enemy down!" Price walked to the two of you. The three of you now stand there, breathless yet victorious.

"Soap?"

You asked once his smile was wiped off. Blood gushed from his mouth. He fell on his knees, looking up at you, you kneeled down, holding him close. Price shot the actual final enemy. "Soap, stay with me, c'mon, don't do this!" You panicked, all he could do was look at you. With the ghost of a smile on him, he cups your cheek, "I always did love you, r/n" he barely let out. He fell on his side, Price and you trying to stop the bleeding and trying to keep him warm.

"Soap? please don't leave us...don't leave me," you whispered, there was nothing more to do, but watch him die.

"It's time for me to go home, Bonnie"

You shook your head, trying to cancel out his words, "No, not yet, you stay here, with us...me....please Johnny, please." you begged knowing damn well all was lost.

Price took his hat off and rested it over his chest, looking at his comrade.

"Rest, you have earned that, son"

Soap sighs, his hand holding yours, grip loosening. He looks at you, with a small smile as he closes his eyes.

What died didn't stay dead You're alive, you're alive in my head

"I love you Johnny, my favourite friend." You kiss his cheek, and he finally let go. Finally met peace.

It's been now three days since his death. Only Price has seen you since then, you have been sleeping in Soaps bed. Wearing an old jacket, but not touching the rest of his stuff. Although the love you two had for the other was platonic, you kept thinking of the what if's.

Maybe if you loved him more than just a friend, maybe he could stay just a little longer. If you didn't know better, it was him humming you to sleep each night.

His ghost dances with your shadow, kissing you good night, wishing you could stop crying and blaming yourself. His favourite girl in the whole world. The one he could never stop loving.

Even in his last moments, he loved you.

At his funeral, you sobbed into the arms of the three men. You swore he was there, and felt some weird warmth on your shoulder when you looked down at his grave.

What died didn't stay dead You're alive, so alive

He was alive, in you, he is alive. He still tells you his jokes and makes comments on Ghost's stupid masks. Right now, he is right there, hand on the small of your back as you put a white rose and an orange tulip on his coffin. The Family walked away, but you stayed there. You grabbed some of the dirt and threw it at the coffin once it was lowered.

Sat by his now grave, been a full year now. Some moved on, others didn't.

And if I didn't know better I'd think you were singing to me now If I didn't know better I'd think you were still around

"Hi, Bonnie, how are things at the base?" he sits beside you, playing with the grass and flowers.

"Price let his beard grow a little more. We have a tattoo of you," you chuckle, "Gaz got it too, you know how he hated tattoos" You look at him.

"Can't believe it took my death to get a bloody tattoo" he laughs a little, hand on your back, his head resting on your shoulder.

"Ghost and I are getting more along now, he talks about you a lot" You too play with the grass underneath you.

"Hey, you better not replace me"

"But not to worry, I'll never replace you"

"How are you?"

"It's been hell, Johnny, I forgot your voice" Your voice cracks, tears running down your cheek. His hand wipes them away, and you feel a cold breeze pass by.

"I'll be waiting for you, Bonnie, and I bet you'll get tired of my voice."

"You'd be 29 now, Happy birthday Johnny." You kiss the tips of your fingers and place them on his stone.

He kissed your cheek, another cold breeze you feel.

I know better But I still feel you all around I know better But you're still around

------

Tags: @screamonic

A/N: I think I had a mental breakdown as I wrote it, so...yeah..if it's shit...sorry

[mamazanobia]

The Worst Sim Ever Challenge – Sims 4

Welcome to "The Worst Sim Ever" challenge! In this challenge, you’ll create a Sim who isn’t exactly living the dream. They’re lazy, messy, and can’t seem to get ahead in life. Your goal is not to thrive but to survive at the bare minimum—and maybe pass those traits on to the next generation. Here's how to play:

Create Your Sim

Traits:

Mandatory Traits:

Lazy – Your Sim would rather nap or watch TV than work.

Slob – Cleanliness? What’s that?

Glutton – Your Sim eats way too much, especially junk food.

Optional Traits:

Unflirty – Romance is hard when you can barely take care of yourself.

Childish – They still love their toys and cartoons.

Goofball – If your Sim isn't good at life, at least they’re good at being funny.

Aspiration:

Mischief, Comedy, or Love (or pick something that seems achievable but doesn’t lead to great success).

Rules of the Challenge

1. Career

Job Restrictions: Your Sim can only have low-paying jobs like fast food worker, manual labor, or a job that depends on tips like a Comedian or Street Performer (use the musician or comedian freelancer careers or busk in public spaces).

Advancement Limits: Your Sim should not advance beyond level 3 in their career unless it's a tip-based one (e.g., musician or comedian). You're meant to be a chronic underachiever.

2. Education

High School: Your Sim barely made it through high school. If you're starting as a teen, make sure they don’t do their homework regularly. They must graduate with a C or lower.

No Higher Education: Absolutely no college for your Sim unless somehow you get accepted in but you will fail out.

3. Home Life

Living Space: Start in the cheapest, dirtiest apartment or house you can afford (if using the City Living expansion, pick a lot with the "Needs TLC" trait).

Cleaning: Your Sim only cleans up when the environment is so bad they can’t function anymore.

Food: Your Sim can only eat snacks, junk food, or delivered food (no home-cooked meals unless it’s quick snacks like chips or cold cuts).

4. Skills

Your Sim cannot excel at skills. The only exceptions are:

Charisma (to keep them barely managing friendships).

Comedy (if you’re trying to make money from tips).

Singing or Dancing (if that's their hustle). All other skills should stay under level 4 to ensure your Sim doesn’t “succeed” too much.

5. Relationships

Friendships: Your Sim can have friends, but no close, dependable friendships unless they’re fellow underachievers or other dysfunctional Sims.

Romance: If they’re in a relationship, it’s dysfunctional—think fights, neglect, or random hookups.

6. Family Life

Having Kids: At least one child is mandatory.

Two-Child Rule: You must have at least two kids:

One must follow in your footsteps and be lazy, unsuccessful, and messy (your "Worst Sim Jr.").

The other must be the opposite—hard-working, neat, and focused on success (your "Best Sim"). This Sim can eventually help better your life or break free from your legacy of failure.

Child Raising: The "Worst Sim Jr." must live a similar life to you—poor grades, no high ambitions, etc. The "Best Sim" must excel in school, gain high-paying jobs, and focus on making life better.

7. Endgame

Worst Sim Jr.: If you choose to continue with them, they must take over the family legacy of being lazy and unsuccessful. They can have kids, and the cycle repeats.

Best Sim: If you choose to continue with them, they must work toward breaking the family curse. This Sim must work hard, save money, and strive for a successful, healthy life, creating a new future for the family.

Challenge Goals

Barely Survive: Your original Sim must never make more than §15,000 in savings. Keep them in a constant state of scraping by.

The Next Generation: Will you continue the cycle of laziness and failure, or will you let your Best Sim break free and turn the family into a successful dynasty?

Created by @mamazanobia & @hthaze6hunna

[lilyginnyblackv2]

By and large, the Buddy Daddies fandom has been great with the interpretation of Kazuki and Rei as being Queerplatonic and/or Platonic Life Partners. And as someone who is aroace, I am deeply happy and grateful for this, because far too often aspec based interpretations of queerness in fandom spaces are met with ridicule, flippant attitudes, or even downright hostility (ex. calling people homophobic for viewing queer characters as aspec instead of gay or lesbian, etc.).

Of course, every fandom has its bad apples. Here is an example of aphobia:

The tweet reads: The fact that Kazuki and Rei of Buddy Daddies share a bank account like...I know what you are what you are  🏳️‍🌈 I will not accept “queer platonic” fics and headcanons when Kazuki is very obviously Rei’s wife.

This person is making it very clear, by putting queer platonic in quotation marks, that they view this interpretation of Rei and Kazuki as not only wrong, but also as lesser than viewing them as a romantic and sexual gay relationship. 

This is what aphobia looks like in fandom spaces. I’ve seen it in, I believe, every fandom that I’ve been in (except The Bastard Son and the Devil Himself, iirc). People will mock or look down on the idea and concept of things like queerplatonic relationships or platonic life partners and state that the concepts sound like “just friends.” I’ve been harassed by someone and called a ch*ld pr*dator simply for making aspec based headcanons about fictional teen characters, and, like I mentioned above, I’ve been called homophobic and lesbophobic for daring to view some characters as being aspec instead of gay or lesbian.

Stuff like this may seem like not a big deal at the end of the day, since they aren’t huge injustices or anything like that, but stuff like this is still invalidating and can still sting. The Buddy Daddies fandom as a whole has been a hugely welcoming fandom in regards to aspec interpretations of the characters, and I love that! <3 It makes me feel safe and accepted, which is rare, because aspec voices and interpretations are usually mocked, ignored, or greeted with hostility in fandom spaces. 

So, all I ask is, if you see aphobic stuff like this happening in the Buddy Daddies fandom, please do anything BUT encourage it. Shut it down, ignore it, block. Anything like that is fine. Shipping Kazuki and Rei romantically and/or sexually is totally fine. I don’t mind that interpretation in the least and wouldn’t be upset if the series did end up going in that direction either.

But there is a reason a lot of aspec fans are flocking to this series, and that’s because this is such a good depiction of what a queerplatonic and/or platonic life partner partnership would look like. I don’t know. I know this likely isn’t the intention of the creators, specifically, since they just wanted to explore the themes of found family and a same-sex couple raising a child together, but it really does feel like being seen. I would want to live with a partner in a very similar way as Kazuki and Rei (minus the child, personally, lol), so seeing it normalized here and not being the constant butt of “are they gay?” or “no homo” or “we’re just friends” type of jokes and clarifications is so refreshing and validating.

Anyway, yeah, seeing that tweet just made me so...tired. I’m so tired of seeing aphobia in fandom spaces and it being treated as a big deal or not a big thing. So I figured I’d make this post to just let people know about the aspect experience a bit. 

Finally, just to clarify, this isn’t meant to be a discourse post or anything of that like. More of just a general awareness post of “Hey, see this? Not cool, and here is why.” type of thing. But, I love and adore the Buddy Daddies fandom and just want to continue seeing it be such a warm fandom space for aspec fans. <3

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Andrew Doyle asks: Remember when the pride flag made sense?

Remember when the pride flag made sense?

It was designed by an American Artist called Gilbert Baker in 1978. It was originally an eight-stripe rainbow but was soon refined into the six-striped version that was the norm for many decades.

At a time when gay people couldn't hold hands with their partners on the street, this flag served a useful purpose. It meant that you could easily find gay pubs or other places where no one had to pretend to be something they weren't. The rainbow symbol was a simple and effective concept that conveyed positivity and unity.

And then some activists came along and said hang on a minute, why are there no black or brown stripes in the rainbow flag? See, for some reason they were under the impression that the gay flag was a literal representation of the range of skin colors that are acceptable in the community. And so we got this.

Okay then, I mean, well, there weren't any white stripes in the original one either. But most people understood that it was symbolic with that we were all included already, irrespective of our race.

But then after this, trans activists came along and said, why aren't we in there? So we got this one. And this was the chevron with the pink white and blue, which was based on the trans flag.

But surely this eyesore couldn't get any worse, could it? Well, it could, because activists were then concerned that it was excluding intersex people, so they added this symbol.

Okay, it's getting a bit out of control now. But then last year, some bright spark added a red umbrella to represent sex workers.

Now, if you thought this was getting out of hand, last year then we had Microsoft. They designed a new version to incorporate all the other multiple sexualities and genders that have been invented over the past few years. Let's have a look at that.

I mean, what the hell is it? It looks like a space ship going at warp speed through a Care Bear's bum hole.

Identity politics in its current form is an ever expanding beast. Pride used to be just one day. Then it was a month. And now Pride events have been scheduled all the way from March through to September. As one sign in a shoe shop pointed out Pride never stops. If only it would.

The initialism as well that's expanded too. First we had LGB, and then it became LGBT, then LGBTQ, then LGBTQIA. The Canadian government currently favors 2SLGBTQIA+, although even its prime minister finds that a bit of a mouthful.

Similarly, Pride started out as an important protest against injustice. When the original Pride March took place in London in 1972, homosexuality had only been legal for five years, and the prospect of gay marriage or even an equal age of consent, seemed impossible. Only 2000 people turned up to these protests.

But by contrast, the Pride parade in London in 2022 attracted over a million. And of course, most of those people aren't even gay. It's become a family day out, a huge party.

And what's so wrong with that, you might ask. And that's a fair question. If people are celebrating and having a good time, that's great. Except that's not necessarily what's going. Increasingly, gay people no longer feel welcome at Pride. I spoke to a representative from a lesbian group on this show last year who had been moved along by police when trying to protest at Pride. But isn't Pride meant to be a protest, not a party? What's going on?

The answer is that pride has been hijacked not once but twice.

First by avaricious multi-billion dollar corporations who are able to pose as virtuous by posting the pride flag. Only, they don't do it in the branches in countries where homosexuality is still illegal. After all, you wouldn't want to fly the flag anywhere which might actually make a difference.

I'm old enough to remember that corporations were certainly not celebrating Pride quite so openly before section 28 was repealed in 2003, or before the age of consent was equalized in 2001, or before the decriminalization of homosexuality in Scotland in 1980. So, these corporations' commitment to LGBT rights apparently only manifests itself when it's likely to make them a profit.

And then there's the second hijacking. See, whereas the original Pride was about agitating for equal rights for gay people, it's now been taken over by activists who are obsessed with group identity and who believe that gender is more important than sex.

That's why the British library, to celebrate the advent of pride month this week, posted a thread on Twitter about the sex life of fish, and how some species have been known to change from male to female.

I mean, what's that got to do with Pride? Why have Librarians seemingly forgotten that human beings aren't the same as fish? Now, they've since deleted those tweets, because well, you know they're bonkers. And although we might laugh at that kind of nonsense, the ideology it promotes is actually rather sinister, particularly for gay people.

See, in her book, "Time to Think" by Hannah Barnes, she found that between 80 and 90% of adolescents referred to the Tavistock pediatric gender clinic were same-sex attracted. Studies have long confirmed a correlation between gender non-conformity in youth, and homosexuality in later life. At the Tavistock, staff used to joke that "soon there would be no gay people left." Somehow the medicalization and sterilization of gay people has been reframed as progressive.

Even Stonewall, the UK's foremost LGBT charity has redefined the word "homosexual" on its website and promotional materials to mean "same gender attracted." Its CEO, Nancy Kelly, has claimed that women who exclude trans people from their dating pool are akin to sexual racists. There's been an intense resurgence of old homophobic tropes online from gender ideologues that believe that "genital preferences are transphobic" and that lesbians who don't include men in their dating pool must be suffering from trauma.

Gay rights were secured by recognizing that a minority of people are instinctively attracted to members of their own sex. And the new ideology of gender identity rejects this notion entirely, and actively shames gay people for their orientation.

So, when you see this flag, try to understand that many gay people consider it to be a symbol of opposition to gay rights, Women who are concerned about their rights consider it a symbol of misogyny, because it promotes an ideology that denies the reality of sex-based oppression, and yet most people, gay people included, haven't even noticed this transition from the pro-gay rainbow flag to this anti-gay imposter.

And that's because it all happened so quickly, and activists are playing on good intentions of a public who don't want to be seen to be on the wrong side of history. Well, I would suggest that upholding the rights of women and gay people and protecting gender non-conforming children and opposing the hypocrisy of corporations is the truly progressive approach.

Anyone who spends any time on social media would have seen that homophobia is clearly on the rise. It's coming from the reactionary elements of the right, who are now holding gay people responsible for sexualized drag shows for children, and the proliferation of sexually explicit books in school libraries. But of course, they've fallen for the trick. This isn't gay people. That's gender ideologues who've convinced everyone that the LGBTQIA+ movement is one big happy family, when it isn't.

And we know this because homophobia is also on the rise among gender ideologues themselves, who frequently go online to tell gay people to kill themselves. Some of them have said that they celebrate AIDS as a good thing. And this isn't just a few mad activists, there are thousands of examples of this if you've got the stomach to look them up.

So whether it's coming from those who consider themselves right wing or left-wing, anti-gay sentiments are back in fashion. And the best way to combat this is to remind everyone that that Progress Pride flag, and the corporate orgy that accompanies it, is not in the interests of gay people.

And if it's too late to reclaim the original Pride flag, we can at least ditch the new one.

[foxymacchiato]

My Boundaries🖤

Hi, my loves! I mostly am making this for myself to link to my pinned oost and add a little bit more so I don't have to edit my pinned post constantly; I'm not so great at setting boundaries so I'm gonna try to work on changing that for my mental health^^ {psst this also isn't meant to come off as a call out post to anyone, I hope it doesn't come off as that I'm sorry I'm an ✨overthinker✨}~

♡ Minors, DO NOT follow/interact with this account! I make zero exceptions to this boundary as I am really not comfortable with minors following my content regardless of what I reblog or the fandoms I'm in, because I also dont really have filter. I'm sorry to be harsh, but I'm an adult and I don't want to filter what I post about on my blog. Plus I really hate it when minors try to purposely interact in adult spaces {seriously do not do this shit, you're putting yourself and others in danger}. Ignoring this boundary will warrant an immediate permanent block.

♡ Fanart is more than welcomed, no need to ask permission! I will treat that like the goddamn Mona Lisa and appreciate the fuck out of it. All I ask is to not feel obligated to do so and to please tag me🩷 I'll ask if I can post your art to my ToyHouse with credit {you have every right to decline if you're uncomfortable, I won't be upset and will respect your decision!} Lastly all I ask is please safe for work only and not sexualize my characters^^

♡ You can take heavy inspiration or heavily reference my art and my OCs for your own, however please don't outright repost my art or fics especially without permission. I would rather be asked first if you want to repost one of my drawings but please don't automatically assume I'll say yes otherwise I will ask the post to be removed. For commissions, you don't have to ask permission to repost, you can post to whatever platform you'd like!

♡ Don't remove/edit my signature and Ko-Fi watermark from my commissions please

♡ I don't roleplay and would prefer my OCs not be used in roleplay. I'm sorry!

♡ No shipping discourse of any kind. I don't care what you ship as long as it's legal, but I'm not here to engage with any discourse revolving around pairings of fictional characters. This account is not a safe space for people who support minor x adult ships, incest/stepcest, bestiality, or glorifying SA.

♡ Please don't ship my OCs with other characters besides the one they're paired with or other OCs {I only do this with my partner's characters}

♡ Idk if this is a problem on Tumblr but I cannot stress this enough please please please do not add me into random group chats especially without asking me first, I will just end up leaving without saying anything. I'm sorry to be rude, I have major social anxiety and the last time this happened was not a good experience that I don't want to relive.

♡ I'm okay with nicknames with mutuals except for babe/baby/anything that sounds flirty {I'm engaged and it makes me uncomfy 🫥}

♡Just because I simp for certain characters who are villains doesn't me I agree with their actions {Eren, Shiggy, sweeties, I'm looking at you two}. Truthfully, I love villains, I like fucked up and morally questionable characters, I think I can fix them {no I can't}, however I have limits yes but sometimes the crazies are where it's at~

♡ I do write about certain heavy topics as a means to cope with trauma I personally endured {ex. I write about alcohol abuse and the toll it can take on others}. This does not mean I condone what is in my writing, it's just telling a story that will be properly tagged.

♡ I have zero tolerance for hate against anyone's sexuality, race, body type, gender, or religion. This account is a safe space for LGBTQ+ and is run by a demi-lesbian pagan witch🩷 {This account is NOT a safe space for MAPs/predators or zoophiles}

♡ If I cross any your boundaries, please tell me and I will fix that immediately!

~

That's about it! I'll add more and edit later when it needs some adjusting^^ Thank you for taking the time to read!

[staticintone]

Silence throughout the past few weeks.

Over the last handful of years, it was getting quieter and quieter. It was hard to place what it felt like, this growing space between two souls. It hadn’t begun with Vox moving out, but finding an exact catalyst was nearly impossible. The usual bustling of the house had gone first, and that was enough to cause an ache. But that was easy to fill.

Especially when there was still regular conversation.

Except even that had disappeared. Now the only noise around was that which Alastor created himself. And despite his greatest efforts, it was startling. Even the simple sounds of a glass scraping the counter was loud and clear. Hearing the rustling of pipes as the sink ran, the pouring of water into the cup, the movement of his own throat as he drank… was it ever something he would be used to again?

Vox was set to arrive any minute now, and the craving for the noise was at its worst for it. Expecting that he would be early for their scheduled time didn’t help much, he would have preferred to know the exact second. But it was worse now, in this moment.

He was thirteen minutes and twelve seconds late.

The knock on the door made Alastor scrunch his nose. Relief flooding his senses, only to be replaced by an irritation and concern when he realized that it was still too damned quiet. The frequency achingly low, in the background, compared to the sound of the world around him.

He opened the door, and the channel came alive. Vox talking a mile a minute over the waves, apologizing profusely and letting his thoughts run so far that Alastor very nearly had a headache from the sudden change. A welcome change, but an overwhelming one.

“I just couldn’t get away.” The exasperation in Vox’s mind was as obvious as Alastor’s discomfort. “You wouldn’t believe the week that I’ve had with this stupid production. We’re over budget, out of time and—sorry, did you want to go out, we can get going—but God, this is getting ridiculous!”

Alastor cradled his head for a split second while Vox had rushed inside past him. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to look at Vox, or greet him properly. There was a question in there somewhere, in all the mess, and Alastor tried to sort it out piece by piece.

When he wanted the noise back, this wasn’t what he meant.

“Why don’t we just stay here tonight?”

Vox hardly even let him finish before he was on again, complaining loudly as he all but collapsed on the couch. “It’s been like this for months, Alastor. I shouldn’t be surprised, the main actress and the writer have been at each other’s throats since the pilot. I’m so sick of these fucking sitcoms, but they do numbers. You should hear the stupid ass story they wrote, so unrealistic!”

Alastor couldn’t get a single word in at this point. Not to offer Vox anything, not to concur or refute, he just had to sit beside him. Watch him flail around wildly while he progressively seemed to get more angry and exhausted.

It was only then that Alastor noticed what should have been the most obvious change. Vox did look different, having switched monitors. It looked… delicate. As if the slightest thing could snap it. It was oddly beautiful, in a fragile way. The colors were bright and vibrant, but there was sparking underneath the screen. Whether that was intentional or not didn’t matter, it still was concerning. Alastor moved to touch it, to see it better, feel it on his hands.

Vox pulled away.

He didn’t notice, Alastor told himself. Still in the throes of a one-sided conversation about something he seemed to have lost faith in before it even began.

The stitches were beginning to pull.

“So we got a hold of this pilot, right? With the promise of a six episode season, but this asshole writes a cliffhanger. It’s not even a good one! She just tells some guy who’s not her husband that she loves him! And the producer in charge—outside of me, of course—tells him it’s unacceptable. Good, great. But he won’t hear it unless it comes from me.”

It was hard to keep track of the situation, with Vox talking over himself, thinking in so many directions at once. Not that Alastor would be able to respond, either way.

“And I’m down the hall, fighting with the advertisers. They’re demanding a full three second shot for these diet pills—which I’m 90% sure are just rat droppings coated in pink paint—but it ruins the whole sequence! It’s an ugly shot to begin with, having to focus on the way she holds her hands, but I can deal with that. We adjusted the set and everything just to make it look halfway decent, but for three seconds? They’re in the middle of an argument! This isn’t a commercial, and breaking down the composition is bad enough, but I refuse to break the flow of the—you don’t care about this, sorry, but—”

“I—”

“—he’s supposed to be the best in the business. Even if he’s a pain in the ass, his stuff does numbers. I had to offer him so much money just to have him demanding to hear it from me.”

Had… had Vox just cut himself off from discussing something he genuinely cared about just to rant further about something so trivial? He had stopped running between topics, thinking over himself for the quickest of seconds. Smoothly talking about the cinematography only to put words in Alastor’s mouth.

And he was wrong. Alastor didn’t fully grasp the importance of the shot, or even the sequence, but hearing it in Vox’s words made him listen. He knew the words by now, knew some of the rules that mattered during production, all because of Vox. He would have gladly heard him talk about that for eternity, but Vox spoke over him, assigned meaning to nonexistent words.

The stitches were beginning to ache.

“Vox, I—”

“—there’s just no excuse for his entitled—”

“Vox!”

Alastor snapped, finally. His expression so strained that he might as well have been fuming. But he wasn’t angry, not really. Frustrated, certainly. Upset, most definitely. Afraid? Maybe.

“What is all of this?” His thoughts were more even now, he had managed to calm himself before he spoke along the waves. Gesturing at Vox like it explained more than words could give him at the moment.

“Oh, right. You haven’t seen me in a while, have you?” Vox was nervously laughing, a hesitation along the frequency that must have been from Alastor’s outburst. “It’s a newer model, something that hasn’t even hit the market yet and I—”

“That isn’t what I meant.” Well, not all of it, at least. Alastor refused to be talked over now. This was his frequency too. And he had more control over it than Vox did. He wouldn’t go unheard now.

“What… what do you mean?”

Alastor and Vox sat there for a solid twenty-six seconds. Alastor searching for the right words as his irritation itself spilled into the frequency between them. Vox’s anxiety came through to match it. The silence had returned once again, save for little emotions peeking through.

It was horrifying.

To be so close, and yet hear nothing.

Even the sound of the house settling was now drowning out anything else. Distracting Alastor from the pieces he wanted to put together. His microphone was rustling through static, growing louder to fill the space. How long had his left hand been trembling?

“I mean all of it.”

“Alastor, I don’t know—”

“All of this. Your insistence on becoming—”

A ringing in the air. Alastor’s head dropped into his hands. The shrill tone of his own home phone ripping through the static and quieting him completely. Vox, for a split second, seemed to reach out in some way or another, but the noise just continued. The call would drop and pick up again in a way it never did. Well, it clearly wasn’t a call for him.

It was rare that someone tried for Vox on this phone these days, but it still happened. And Alastor would let it go every time. It was usually obvious when the call was meant for him. Alastor waved Vox to pick it up, if for no other reason than to make the noise stop.

A move he would regret in less than a minute.

Vox greeted the call with some level of irritation, yet his voice hid his actual demeanor. Speaking out loud had such a different quality to it for both of them. Vox’s careful persona betrayed only by the slight cracks along private radio waves. 

Only to be snapped completely the more the call progressed.

If Alastor wasn’t putting so much effort into cutting out the outside world, maybe he would have heard the contents. Maybe he would have understood why Vox’s emotions were suddenly everywhere.

“No, that’s not—I’m telling you it’s impossible! Why wouldn’t the—slow down. No, I’m coming now. I said I’m coming now!”

The phone hit the receiver with a snap, and Alastor winced.

“You can’t go now.”

“I have to.” While Alastor had switched back over to the frequency, Vox had not. “I—”

“You can’t.”

His own voice was the only thing he could hear along the channel, and it was making everything so much worse. Being excluded in a way that had never happened before… Vox could think, could speak, but had decided Alastor was shut out entirely.

The stitches were beginning to tear.

He was on his feet as Vox started to walk. And all Vox was doing was repeating the same words out loud.

“I have to go.”

Alastor grabbed Vox hard by the arm, trying to force him to turn around. Which he did. Tired, anxious eyes met Alastor’s wild and desperate ones.

“You can’t. Whatever it is can wait—”

“It can’t wait!” This time the frequency was used, a blunt instrument to knock Alastor back. “I’m sorry.” But that was the last time he heard anything from Vox that night.

Even as the scene continued, as he withdrew his hand from Vox, took a step back.

“Vox, please.”

Even as he begged. Vox was silent. Watching him move suddenly, disappearing into his network in the street. Alastor slammed the door behind him, stewing in the silence after the sound of the air had calmed.

Static bubbled up around him, drowning him in something less overwhelming. But it didn’t slow down his breathing.

When did this happen? When did Vox start speaking for him, over him, in spite of him? What was the exact moment Alastor stopped being a factor in his life? Searching, scanning through times in the last seven years, last twenty, last seventy. There had to be a sign. Somewhere, there had to be a sign. There had to be. This didn’t just happen. When did Vox stop hearing him? Respecting him? Caring about him?

It was agonizing to think about.

Scrubbing through any recording, any memory that would make this make sense. Looking for a pattern that refused to show. Thinking through every smile, every word, every touch. Vox was a performer. He had been in life, in death, everything. Was this a performance that went unnoticed? Was Vox that good of an actor that he could be flipped like a switch and turn it off?

Was any of it real?

That train of thought broke through the stitches along the edges of his smile. And Alastor started laughing. The backside of the door immediately took damage, nails raking into the wood before they flew up to his own face.

The magic that went into the stitching was rudimentary. Sealing pieces that held wear of almost a century. In the beginning it was about maintaining an image, something simple and observable. Slowly it became apparent that the façade could never be dropped, not anywhere, for any reason. Until…

No.

Not anywhere.

Not to anyone.

Even here, in the comfort of his own space, he felt eyes on him. Well, perhaps it wasn’t really his space. It was infected. Vox had become a parasite on his home, in his brain, in his blackened heart. Wormed his way through the ranks, using Alastor as a prop until he was content to take the reins for himself.

Oh, Alastor had been right.

Letting someone in had been poisonous, ruinous. And now the contamination was everywhere. And he couldn’t rid himself of it internally, so he took it out on the space around him.

There would be no quiet now, with the crashing and breaking and smashing and destruction. The damned phone took it the worst, being ripped apart almost methodically, piece by piece. Seeing each wire fray under his fingers gave him comfort where nothing else would. The electricity crackling and causing his skin to blacken. The pain was almost good. It gave him something else to focus on.

Something other than the ripping in his face.

When the world had settled back into silence, it was all he could feel. And Alastor tried to ignore it. He tried. He tried. But a finger snaked into the frazzled loops. And when he pulled back…

He felt his skin tearing at the seams.

And he couldn’t stop now. No. Take them all out, leave his face mangled and bloody. Only then could he start fresh. New stitches, sturdier ones. A heavier mask, one that wouldn’t be so easy to break through. A stronger front, then he would never have the need for defense again.

Cutting out Vox would be hard.

Like pulling a tree up from its roots. It would damage the ground underneath. It would take so long for the soil to settle. So long.

… He could cut it.

The frequency, he could cut it.

He held the channel with the greatest hold he’d ever had on anything. Ready to snap it, ready to break the connection that Vox was so happy to ignore. But…

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Alastor.”

“You’ll never have to, I swear. No matter what, I will be right here.”

He just couldn’t. Vox could abandon him, but Alastor couldn’t. Even if Vox left him with nothing, Alastor would be there. He would keep his promise. Maybe that would wake Vox up someday. Seeing him refuse to give up on their connection.

It would be different. It would be distant.

It would be quiet.

But it would be there.

In the wake of the destruction, both to the room and Alastor, there was just one thing left. The fear that went unfinished, unsaid, all because of the now shattered phone in background.

Your insistence on becoming someone unrecognizable.

[starlost-lix]

SKZ 5 STAR COMEBACK THOUGHTS

first, a review of the songs and then my overall thoughts!!

song review

Hall of Fame: from the get go, it establishes the space vibe with the opening tune! a great opening love the galileo and armstrong references etc, although the 'one small step' quote from armstrong, while it does fit the theme, kinda breaks up the song for me so it's not my favourite part. the build up in the prechorus is SO GOOD! the chorus is really punchy and i'm so in love with felix's little rap verse he really does make it iconic.

S-Class: so so so COOL!! the whistling part is so awesome and it starts with guns blazing with changbin's rap. HYUNJIN SLAYED THAT VERSE!! i really love it. all the raps are so good and the serpent road melody is so good?? THIS CHORUS IS HIGHLY ADDICTIVE!! the switch to a slower beat and the hip hop vibe was very unexpected but very welcome :) the buildup to the second chorus is so great omg i love how its the same but different! seungmin was really good in the we're special part ughhhh the dance break slayed so much as well i just have positive things to say about this song except maybe the ending i don't hate but also don't love how it ends

ITEM: GAMER ERA!! it's 'funnily annoying' just like they said in the intro video really does give video game vibes! super addictive and i love the diction as changbin focused on it really levels up the song. ITEM ITEM I ATE THEM PAC MAN!!! han's rap >>> i also like felix's celebrate we gonna elevate line that was so good i ate that shit up. EVERYTHING IS AMAZING NO WORDS!!! the bridge isn't my best but i really like the buildup to the final chorus and it overall slayed so hard. mv maybe?

Super Bowl: omg. literally. i can see how it was meant to be the original gods menu but im glad they saved it for five star because it honestly just fits so much better with this album and it feels a lot more cohesive. ENGLISH SONG KINGS!! every line is just pure mastery ugh i'm so hooked onto this song and the way chan says ruULes like >>>> changbin's rap ughhhhh and then jeongin saying the everything you're craving its all me like TOAST?? BABY BREAD WHO? and then the stunner HELL OF A LINE I KNOW ITS HELLA FINE HELLS KITCHEN TASTING DIVINE!! the backing instrumental is quite simple which works well because the singing isn't overshadowed. never thought i'd live to see the day hanji said 'bussin' but WHO ELSE?? such a killer like omg and then the chorus UGH I DIED the whispering the word play the seductive vibe with the urge to shake my ass off and ugh i can't compute. heyday reference by changbin!!! lee know's prechorus was so good ugh i really would like a mv or smth for this as well. the bridge was really good imo!!! and the transition from the 'bring the rain' to 'cooking up a storm' and having the same semantic field UGHHHH the ending with felix was so fine as well 🤤

TOPLINE (feat.Tiger JK): love love love the instrumental!!! braggadocios as they should be 😤 THE PRECHORUS IS MY LOVE I ADORE IT AN UNGODLY AMOUNT!!! SEUNGMIN'S VOICE!!!!! lmaoooo chan dropping in the 'we don't give a f***' i see now why he was so surprised with the Xdinary Heroes and their supposed uncensored swearing whereas he had to blur it out haha. the chorus DELIVERS! BOM DIGI DIGI BOM BOM BOM BOM! tiger jk is a rlly great rapper and i'm so happy that han gets his dream to rap with him bcs his rap slayed! and then the 'ain't nobody can do it like us' reference to circus!! >>> lee know slayed the second chorus ^^ great song :D the ending was so great <3

DLC: THIS IS SO GREAT!! the instrumental is so nice, a lot lighter than the previous songs and a nice break from the heaviness hehe. the tune is so addictive and i love the SUNRISE part <3. even if the lyrics are a bit sad, as @oh-the-aster-blooms put it, 'sometimes when you are sad, dancing all night sounds better', and i totally agree :) everything just kinda flows so well and their voices work really well together. i really adore i.n's 'run away run away' part my baby has such an angelic voice. the bridge is also cool :)

GET LIT: idk is it just me but for some reason get lit just brings worth it by 5th harmony to mind with the jazzy vibes at the start, but like...better (no offence to 5th harmony) this is such a swag brag song! the raps are so great to start off omg and then the sudden transition to seungmin's beautiful voice ugh THE CHORUS!!!! i love how felix does his line and it drops into the vibe. the next verse is so like subtle brag idk how to explain it but the swerve swerve part> i do feel imo that the bridge is bit disconnected at the beginning but when changbin does his 'speaker' part it flows really well. i like the dance break! it is a bit repetitive but oh well it slays anyways.

Collision: i saw someone somewhere say it was like chill on steroids (idk who u are sorry for not giving credit 🙇‍♀️) and its so true. it really has the same vibe like sad but also like vibey idk i think the instruments help a lot with establishing that mood. vocalracha slayed in this >>> so did hyunjinnie and lee know <;3 babe i loved you that line is so good felix >>> and BANG CHAN IN THE VERSE AFTER THE FIRST CHORUS?? so good ugh its like a rainy day kinda song when u just feel a bit sentimental. also felix and...was it lee know? in the second pre chorus? that sounded so amazing ughhhh i really like that metaphor of crashing its very bittersweet <3 han slayed again

FNF: such a strong start with chan!!! changbin and han's raps were so great and the prechorus was really like heart rending idk thats jsut the power of vocalracha ig and again as @oh-the-aster-blooms and i were discussing the chorus does have a great pace which does give the impression of trying to catch up! it gives off movie soundtrack vibes imo. the way they blended their voices with felix was so cool!! hyunjinnie slayed that rap damn. the bridge was so good as well. the meaning behind this song >>

Youtiful: such a sweet song showing their love for stay! chan's explanation was so TT i love my boys so much the instrumental is so soft and soothing and the lyrics >>> listening to this just made my heart warm. its the audio version of chan's big hug <3 this was a very good song for chan. also seungmin, lee know and i.n as well!! i could listen to my babe jeongin saying 'you are a miracle' for ever. the chorus slaps.

i don't really count these two as part of the album as they were already released/just a translated ver so its a lot briefer

THE SOUND (Korean Ver.): the Japanese version slayed, so does this. i liked how they changed the chorus, and everything just fits well idk sometimes i find the translated versions a bit jarring after being used to the og one but this is really good!

Mixtape: Time Out: so great i just love it sm <333

overall!

such a great album omg. i love all the songs!!! the line count has improved quite a bit (although lino is lacking in some parts) but overall its pretty fair imo factoring the roles different members play. they've definitely shown us a different facet of their music which is so cool and innovative! love love love

ranking

this was so hard omg its going to keep changing but as of right now it is:

ITEM

S CLASS/Super Bowl

TOPLINE/Get Lit

DLC/FNF/Hall of Fame

Collision

Youtiful

as always, every song is amazing and these are my opinions so please respect them! 3RACHA production kings 👑 stream 5 STAR and s-class! yet another amazing comeback <3

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[yolowritter]

A perspective on Gideon Ofnir part 2

Follow up post to this ramble about Gideon. I stand by what I said last time. Gideon Ofnir is a tired old man who is clearly losing hope in the Tarnished, and the Two Fingers that are meant to guide them. Again, he is completely right in the regard that all current Tarnished staying at the Roundtable Hold are just waiting for a miraculous savior to sweep in and take the throne, and none of them embark on the journey themselves. Rogier has even lost Grace, possibly because of abandoning this goal, even if the exact mechanics of "gaining" and "losing" Grace are complicated. Alas, not the point. Gideon quite literally has only Nepheli that he can trust in, and he does in fact send her after Godrick the Grafted, the weakest of the Shardbearers. Make no mistake, this in itself is a show that he's done taking risks, or perhaps is following the mission half-heartedly by now. Nepheli is very clearly an accomplished warrior, since she managed to get inside Stormveil Castle and slay a Banished Knight inside of a cramped room (anybody who has fought them in tight spaces knows it's not easy). She is his strongest piece on the board, and Gideon sends her for the Shardbearers' weakest. There is a clear reason why none of the people present at the Radahn Festival are acting for or on behalf of Gideon. Blaidd is there for Ranni. Alexander is there to prove his own worth in battle, nevermind that he isn't Tarnished to begin with. Okina is possibly there on behalf of Mohg, since he already had the Rivers of Blood, which we know lore-wise he got after submitting to the Lord of Blood. Lionel is already dead and under Fia's control by this point, as we find his body in Leyndell, and Therolina is a puppet acting on Seluvis' orders. He even gives the Tarnished her ashes as part of his quest. Tragoth is following his own interests and travels the Lands Between to help his fellows, without ever going to Leyndell except to assist the Tarnished in defeating the Draconic Tree Sentinel (assuming he's summoned to help). Gideon literally has no more capable warriors at his side, no possible hope of ever defeating someone like Radahn.

That's why he sends Nepheli for Godrick, who is the weakest in all aspects. He's the only Demigod Gideon thinks even she has any chance of actually defeating. (Side note that the Radahn Festival must have already happened hundreds of times, due to the relevant Jerren dialogue, so even that is a failed strategy until the Tarnished shows up.) And what happens when the Tarnished returns to the Roundtable with Godrick's Great Rune? With or without Nepheli at their side, Gideon happly welcomes them, sounding proud to call the Tarnished a true member of the Hold. The player character becomes his new hope, that just maybe, if he keeps us on the straight and narrow, we might just end this Age of Fracture and stagnation.

Right after this, Gideon immediately launches into a whole discussion about the other Demigods. Those whose locations he knows of at least, and the list of targets that the Tarnished can hit. He's impressed by the fact that a Shardbearer has finally fallen and immediately urges this newcomer to keep going, offering knowledge and explicitly warning them to stay far away from the Capital until they've collected at least two Great Runes, and are strong enough to challenge Morgott. And yes, I know that the barrier at Leyndell's gate is an in-universe story beat possibly erected after Vyke got jailed, but that's not relevant to Gideon. Of course he has his own agenda, everyone in the Roundtable does apart from Roderika. Hewg is hopelessly smithing away and wants to be freed, Rogier is investigating Death, Fia wants to get as much vigor out of capable champions as possible, and D to hunt down the Undead.

Gideon is perplexed by mysteries. He admits that he can never know everything, and yet relentlessly tries to increase and expand his knowledge regardless. He does do this behind the Tarnished's back by taking magic from the Demigods they defeat, but consider for a moment that Gideon has no reason to trust the Tarnished with something so important just yet. Before Leyndell, the newcomer is a hope, yes, but one just as liable to fail as all the rest. Gideon is expanding his pocketbook of spells in case he ever needs them, and because why not? He's clearly got the power to wield all this magic, and the Two Fingers even deemed him worthy enough to learn Lord Divine Fortification, an incantion built to negate holy damage. Why would he recieve this knowledge if not for the Fingers intending him to challenge Radagon at some point?

And even in the cases where Gideon has the Tarnished do his dirty work, it's never a demand or a threat. He's passive, content to watch, and aside from Ensha (who explicitly acts on his own), has no intention to attack us so long as we don't end up being a threat to him. Don't stab me, I don't stab you. Pretty simple stuff. Gideon searches for knowledge, and while the whose fiasco with the village of albinaurics is absolutely unethical and cruel of him to do, it only serves to point out that he considers finding Miquella (and therefore possibly understanding one of the people that perplex him) more important than the lives of people who lore-wise are "widely considered impure and graceless". It's obviously wrong, but Gideon values a way out of this stagnation more than anything. Again, the Tarnished is never forced to find Latenna, not to mention that if they do while also eventually going to Ordina, a whole new generation of Albinaurics can be born. Gideon simply considers the Tarnished as a comrade of sorts, hence why they are trusted with Latenna's possible location. Hence why he then shares his secret thoughts about Mohg and Malenia. Gideon only wanted the Tarnished to prove they were worth it, and they have. Alright, I'm going to stop here and continue in a third and final post talking about why I think Gideon betrays and battles the Tarnished in the Ashen Capital. There is no 100% clear answer, but again these posts are just my two cents. See you all soon!

[izthepup]

If You Came Back as an Einherjar

This is gonna be somewhat of a continuation of "If you almost died"

AGAIN, SPOILER ALERT! ILL TRY TO ADD SPACES IF I REMEMBER. SORRY FOR YALL WHO'VE SEEN WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM... after TYR's plan. ALSO SORRY, I MIGHT BE MAKING EINHERJAR NOT WORK HOW THEY ARE MEANT TO BE WORKING.

———Kratos———

- He was just walking in Vanaheim, still grieving

- There were a lot of Einherjar that went down to attack him

- he all of them

- except for one?

- it looked like you... 

- except with skin that was tinted blue

- "Brother, isn't that Y/N? Oh god, what has that Odin done? He got a Valkyrie to bring Y/N back to life.. to fight you..."

- Kratos froze for a moment, unsure of what to do

- He decided to freeze your feet using one of the runic arrows and the Leviathan Axe.

- he remembered what Atreus had said about Einherjar.

- "Y/N. Come on. Snap out of it. You can over come this, you just have to remember."

- Somehow, he got you to remember him. Somehow.

- "...Kratos..?"

- (Freya/Atreus) was going to shoot you, until they heard you say his name

- "(Kratos / Father)... is that.. Y/N?"

- "Yes. It appears to-"

- "We just need to figure out how get the rest of Y/N's memory back. (Sister/Brother), you have any ideas?"

- Mimir interrupted Kratos- like everyone does

- "Maybe something to remind them of Kratos? Or something they like?"

- They managed to get you to be friendly enough 

- They brought you to Sindri's

- "Oh, welcome back Krato- IS THAT AN EINHERJAR?"

- He began panicking

- Kratos and Mimir explained the situation

- He warily let you stay, saying

- "Oh well uh... that's great! Just, please don't let them break anything."

- Almost everyone was trying to get you your memory back

———Freya———

- She was in Vanaheim, taking her anger out on enemies

- She was fighting Einherjar, and then saw one that looked like you..

- wait, it was you. With blue tinted skin.

- She quickly defeated the other Einherjar with a spell

- "Y/N? Are my eyes fooling me, or is it really..."

- She trailed off. 

- She put a sort of barrier around you

- "... Freya?"

- She gasped

- "It is you!"

- She noticed though, that you didn't seem to have your full memory

- She did remember Odin saying something about Einherjar once

- She worked hard to get your full memory back

- She got the others to help too

———Atreus———

- He was grieving, walking in Vanaheim with Kratos, trying to find sort of treasure and materials.

- Kratos and Mimir were trying their best to make him happy again

- two Einherjar came out of the sky 

- When he saw them, he froze 

- One was someone he didn't know

- ...

- the other was Y/N...

- Kratos dispatched of the unknown one

- He was going to do the same for you, but he saw that you two were staring at each other

- well I mean

- he was staring, you were in a fighting position

- but you didn't come close quickly 

- "...Y/N? Y/N, is it really you? C'mon, it has to be.. snap out of your trance.."

- Mimir seemed to feel bad

- "Oh, little brother... that isn't Y/N, it can't be.. even if it was, (gender) would be attacking you anywa-"

- He quieted when he heard you though

- you had frozen after hearing your name

- "...Atreus?"

- "Y/N! It is  really you!"

- He quickly came up to you and hugged him before you could even try to attack him

- "Bloody... it is Y/N! Odin must have known that Y/N was a weakness of ours..."

- Mimir was absolutely flabbergasted 

- Atreus was doing his best to get your memory back

- He got the others to help, too

———Mimir———

- He was with Kratos and (Atreus or Freya) in Vanaheim, they were sort of trying to find a way to take his mind off your death. 

- they both lost someone before, so they knew how it felt

- "Mimir... would you care to tell a story?"

- "...I'm afraid I'm not in the mood, (Little Brother / Sister). But maybe- Wait a bloody minute! Is that..?"

- His voice trailed off to a whisper

- He whispered 

- "Y/N? No.. no, it can't be.. but, it has to be.."

- (Atreus/Freya) looked at Mimir pitifully 

- Then they actually did see you

- For some reason you were poking around in some bushes-

- You saw them and got in a battle stance

- "Wait, Y/N! Is it really you (Sister/Brother/Sibling)?"

- This made you freeze

- "...Mimir..?"

- His voice immediately went cheerful, but his voice did crack when he spoke again

- He worked very hard to get your memory back

- He made the others help too

- They probably would've helped anyways

———Sindri———

- (Before Brok's death)

- He was at his house, when Einherjar started coming out of the sky

- Luckily, Kratos and Atreus were there, fighting them

- Sindri was trying to help...

- While staying kinda far from them

- He saw one that looked like you and immediately stopped attacking

- "....Y/N? Y/N! Is it.. can it be..?"

- the Einherjar froze

- He held his hands out, keeping you far for the moment

- He wasn't sure if it was you

- it was, but he didn't know

- "...Sindri?"

- This made him stop completely

- he probably burst into tears

- Or almost burst into them

- He actually ran up to you and gave you a big ol' hug 

- The others helped him to get your memory back

- For the first few days, he would cry tears of joy 

- Mainly whenever he saw you

- It made him so happy that you were alive

- Even brok was nicer to sindri for a while

- 'letting him savor the moment' as brok said

- (After Brok's death)

- He was watching from his window (from his room)

- He was sipping on mead

- he saw Einherjar outside, Kratos and (Freya/Atreus) were fighting them

- He saw one that looked like you

- he choked on his mead 

-(gurgling choking sounds)

- He quickly stepped between realms, for some reason he still had the bottle of mead with him

- He saw it was you

- He stepped from between realms again

- But he dropped the bottle from shock

- it broke ofc 

- Kratos and (freya / Atreus) then noticed him

- He ignored them

- Then he went right up to you

- "Y/N? I- is that really you?"

- He was holding his arms out, as though trying to decide between hugging you and keeping you away, since he wasn't sure if it was you

- "...Sindri..?"

- He gasped

- He ran up and hugged you

- Might've even began crying

- He didn't care too much that Kratos and (Atreus/Freya) were helping him try to get your memory back

- He did a lot of the trying-to-bring-memory-back thing

- He didn't care if you made a mess

- probably cleaned up the mess later

- He cared a little tho if you hurt him

———Brok———

- He had some mead with him

- Einherjar started coming out of the sky, attacking 

- Brok just watched from the inside, staring out the door

- He was about to take a big drink of mead when he saw an Einherjar that looked like you

- "HOL' UP JUST A MINUTE, DON'T KILL THAT ONE."

- He came out, seeing you with your feet frozen to the ground

-rip Kratos got you with the runic attack and his axe—

- "Is this mead playing tricks on mys eyes... or is it actually ya? Y/N?"

- then the Einherjar stopped trying to struggle and attack

- "...Brok?"

- "It is ya! So this mead isn't getting to me.."

- Everyone around him was confused

- After some... explaining of sorts, everyone was trying to help you

- By 'help' they are trying to get your memory back

Sorry that some parts were short, I got tired

This took me like a few days 

I promise, I’m going to try at the very least to put the Brok catch-up tomorrow, since have some parts of brok right now,, we don’t want him to be left behind :]

[cripple-culture-is]

I don't really feel comfy using the slur even tho I'm like 99% sure I could if I wanted to but--

The culture is your hs gym teacher pushing you wayyyyy too hard and continuously telling you that you're "not trying hard enough" because you aren't visibly struggling (except the visual struggling) and only being told your work is acceptable when you go home exhausted and in pain every day

Cardio days man

Like,,, to the point that you don't have the physical energy to take a shower,,, and barely enough to take a bath,,, and just spend the day in pain playing video games (but dang joints in pain make that hard too)

But it's a required class so... uh

Needless to say,,, you're dropping out and taking it online over the summer with a different teacher

And by "you" I mean me. This is my life. Sorry I needed to vent somewhere

That's alright =) I should really put a disclaimer here that states that if you aren't comfy using the word cripple, you could use other things (I'll get on that immediately)

OH NO!! That's not right. You should not have to deal with that. Sometimes schools can stink so much. I was homeschooled, but I had experience with public school, albeit incredibly brief. While my elementary gym teacher was perfect, my 1st grade teacher was not, and my needs were not met. I was not accommodated. Schools really need to improve how they treat disabled students.

Showers are tiring enough on their own, honestly. I feel the video game pain thing on a deep level. It's great to play video games, but wrist pain makes that action incredibly difficult.

Good for you! You shouldn't have to just stand there and take it when it is doing more harm than good. I hope the online summer class works well for you. You should definitely not have to deal with that much pain, and your HS gym teacher should've accommodated you (if I was in your position, my mother would've already complained to the principal and even the superintendent if that didn't work).

I understand what you meant =) And it's no worries at all. That's why this space exists. So physically disabled people can vent. I am at a point in my life where I can separate myself from other people's problems, so I am in a good mental state to be doing this.

You are welcome here. Even if you feel as if you have to apologize for venting, you never have to apologize for venting here. This is a safe space <3

[abdiyacaris]

Why are you passionate about hospitality ..

Expanding on the fascinating nature of hospitality, it’s important to recognize that this field is rooted in human connection and the desire to create an environment where people feel welcomed, valued, and cared for. Hospitality extends far beyond the provision of basic services—it’s an art form that blends creativity, empathy, and attention to detail to elevate everyday experiences into memorable ones. The essence of hospitality lies in making people feel at home, even when they are away from their usual surroundings. It is about understanding and anticipating the needs of guests and responding with warmth, attentiveness, and care.

One of the most compelling aspects of hospitality is its ability to evoke positive emotions. When you step into a hotel, restaurant, or even a thoughtfully curated event, you are immediately enveloped in an atmosphere that has been intentionally designed to make you feel comfortable and valued. Whether through the meticulous arrangement of a dining table, the thoughtful selection of music, or the personalized interaction with a service provider, hospitality engages all the senses, creating an immersive experience. This multisensory engagement is what sets hospitality apart—it is a field that appeals to emotions, where guests leave not just with a full stomach or a well-rested night but with a sense of fulfillment and gratitude.

Food and beverage services, a core aspect of the hospitality industry, serve as powerful connectors. Sharing a meal is one of the most universal ways to foster relationships, break down barriers, and build a sense of community. When done with intention and skill, dining becomes more than just sustenance—it becomes an experience. Chefs and restaurateurs have the unique ability to tell stories through their dishes, crafting narratives around local ingredients, cultural traditions, and culinary creativity. In this way, every meal served is an opportunity to connect with guests on a deeper level, offering them not only physical nourishment but also a slice of the culture, history, and passion that went into creating the dish.

Ambiance plays a pivotal role in hospitality as well. Whether you’re entering a luxury hotel lobby or a cozy neighborhood café, the space itself tells a story and sets the tone for the experience. Interior design, lighting, music, and layout all contribute to the atmosphere, creating a mood that either energizes or relaxes the guest. In a fine-dining restaurant, for example, the dim lighting and soft background music are intentional choices meant to create an intimate, sophisticated environment where guests can focus on their meal and conversation. In contrast, a lively bar might use upbeat music, bold colors, and communal seating to encourage socialization and a more casual, energetic vibe. This level of attention to ambiance reflects the dedication that hospitality professionals have to crafting environments that match and elevate the guest's experience.

Another layer of hospitality that makes it so compelling is the emotional intelligence required to excel in the field. Unlike many industries that rely heavily on technical skills or knowledge, hospitality demands a deep understanding of human emotions and behaviors. The ability to read subtle cues—such as body language, tone of voice, or facial expressions—can make all the difference in providing exceptional service. Great hospitality professionals are not only adept at resolving problems but also proactive in preventing them from arising in the first place. They can anticipate a guest’s needs before the guest even has to articulate them, creating a seamless and frictionless experience. This level of service fosters trust and loyalty, encouraging guests to return time and time again.

Moreover, hospitality is about building relationships, not just transactions. While the industry is indeed a business, the most successful professionals understand that the value of each guest goes far beyond the immediate sale. In the best hospitality settings, guests are treated as individuals with unique needs and preferences. Personalized service—whether it’s remembering a guest’s favorite drink, accommodating specific dietary restrictions, or offering tailored recommendations—creates a sense of belonging and fosters a deep connection between the guest and the service provider. This personalization transforms what could be an ordinary interaction into something special and memorable.

Hospitality also thrives on the principle of inclusivity. The best experiences are those that make every guest, regardless of background or circumstance, feel equally important and cared for. In this way, hospitality has the power to break down social, cultural, and economic barriers. Whether you are serving a high-profile client in a five-star hotel or a backpacker in a modest hostel, the goal is the same: to create a welcoming environment where people feel respected and valued. This commitment to inclusivity is particularly important in a globalized world where guests come from diverse backgrounds and expectations can vary widely.

Furthermore, hospitality is about the pursuit of excellence. Every detail, no matter how small, matters. Whether it’s the crispness of a freshly ironed tablecloth, the perfect temperature of a glass of wine, or the way a guest is greeted at the door, these seemingly minor elements contribute to the overall experience. The pursuit of excellence is not about perfection for its own sake but about showing guests that their comfort and satisfaction are a priority. In this way, hospitality professionals are constantly refining their craft, seeking new ways to improve and innovate. This drive for continuous improvement is what keeps the field dynamic and exciting, with endless opportunities for creativity and growth.

The communal aspect of hospitality is another element that makes it so rewarding. In many ways, hospitality brings people together—whether it's a family celebrating a milestone, friends gathering over a meal, or business partners solidifying a deal over coffee. These shared experiences create a sense of connection that goes beyond the individual. As a hospitality professional, being part of these moments and contributing to their success can be incredibly fulfilling. There is a sense of pride in knowing that your efforts helped create memories that guests will cherish for years to come.

In conclusion, the world of hospitality is a dynamic, ever-evolving field that revolves around human connection, creativity, and emotional intelligence. It is about more than providing services—it is about crafting experiences that make people feel valued, cared for, and connected. From the carefully curated ambiance to the personalized service, every detail contributes to a larger narrative of hospitality as a form of storytelling. The ability to evoke joy, comfort, and a sense of belonging makes hospitality one of the most fulfilling and meaningful industries. Whether through food, design, or service, hospitality professionals have the unique opportunity to create lasting positive impressions and contribute to a world where people feel more connected to each other.