#and the problem is that it would be FINE if they were doing a different story!

[ellecdc]

grovelling under an old oak tree

prompt from @redeyesthicthighs: I have been thinking about our girl Vix & craving some good ol’ hurt/comfort with a touch of groveling from one of the boys... I feel like we tend to see Sirius or James be the ones to step wrong and then have to fix it but… I know we are all obsessed with Remus and he truly is an angel (I KNOW! YOU KNOW I KNOW!) but how do you think he would grovel?

poly!marauders x vixen!reader who Remus needs to apologize to [1.3k words]

CW: fem!reader, Remus yelled at her/told her off off screen, Remus-centric, begging for forgiveness, hurt/comfort and fluff

“Sirius, I think you ought to at least pretend to be a little less happy about how upset your girlfriend is right now.” Remus scolded instead of acknowledging the fact that he was currently in the wrong.

Sirius simply snorted at him. “Of course I’m not happy about my girlfriend being upset, Moony. I’m just thoroughly enjoying the fact that it’s not my fault.”

”It doesn’t hurt that Moony was the arse this time.” James added rather unhelpfully. 

“I wasn’t an-” Remus started as he stood straighter, cutting himself off and taking a steadying breath. He really was sort of an arse. It was the day after a full, Remus was feeling particularly sorry for himself - his hip seemingly giving him more problems today than it had in months - and you had been your normal, vibrant, effervescent self. 

The way Remus spoke to you probably had you thinking that was a crime worthy of Azkaban. 

You’d taken off - of course you had - because who would want to stick around to be spoken to like that?

It probably hadn’t helped matters that the other two boys were so thoroughly shocked by Remus’ outburst that neither of them thought to say anything to you, and Remus himself was too simultaneously proud and full of self loathing to retract his earlier sentiments.

The last thing any of them had seen from their dormitory window was a small red fox bolting into the forest. 

“I was an arse.” Remus admitted in defeat.

”Fuck yeah you were!” Sirius cheered, earning him a high-five from James as though the two of them had been watching a quidditch match and not Remus simply pull on a jacket, hat, and scarf to go out in search of you. 

“I need you to enjoy this a little less, please.” Remus sighed.

”No can do, Moonbeam; I’ll be riding this high all week. Can you imagine!? I wonder what it would be like to have Remus grovelling at our feet, eh Jamie?”

“Fuck off. The difference between the two of you and Vix is that you’d actually… deserve it...” He joked, though the atmosphere immediately fell flat when he remembered that he had, indeed, been an arse to you. And what’s more, you didn’t deserve it in the least. 

“Fuck; I was an arse.” Remus reiterated.

”Do you want us to help, Rem?” James finally asked, clearly taking pity on Remus who, in his defence, was not at all used to being in the dog house. 

“No… no. I- I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” Remus decided; whether he was convincing himself or his boyfriend’s, he wasn’t sure as he ventured out of his dormitory in search of his girlfriend. 

…

He supposed that, all things considered, he should be thankful for the mixture of rain and snow that was currently falling from the sky. If nothing else, it served to leave a definitive trail of paw prints in the soft ground leading Remus to where you’d gone and hidden.

From him.

You were hiding from him.  

Fuck, he was an arse. 

There was a small hole in the earth under a tangle of roots beneath a grand old oak where your paw prints came to a decided halt. 

“Dovey?” He tried carefully; he heard an exhale and a shuffle. “Sweetheart? I’m sorry…” 

He received no response. 

Remus didn’t think he was in a position to ask anything of you; not to hear him out, not to come out and talk to him, not even to come back inside so he’d - at the very least - sleep knowing you were indoors and warm. 

So, screaming hip be damned, he lowered himself to the ground, the layers he was wearing doing nothing to protect him from the biting cold of the muddy ground as it seeped into his front. 

He wondered for a moment if he should feel embarrassed should a passerby notice a student prostrate beneath the trunk of an old oak tree, but he decided pleading for your forgiveness outweighed any potential embarrassment. 

“Vix, I’m sorry, love.” He pressed earnestly; a small white muzzle appearing near the entrance of your burrow. “I didn’t mean it.” 

You let out a huff and moved to turn your face back away from him. Yes you did, you seemed to argue.

”I didn’t, sweetheart. But I shouldn’t have said it, and that doesn’t excuse that I still did.” 

You kept your face turned away from him. 

“Dovey, I-” Remus paused and bit in a breath, using his elbows to pull him that much closer to your burrow and streak that much more mud up his front. “Pads and Prongs…they saved me. But…but you- you brought light back into my life, and you manage to do that even on my darkest days.” 

He waited a few beats before he continued. “Even when I don’t deserve it.”

One of your back legs twitched as though you were itching to move but actively fought against it. 

“Even when it’s the pain that’s talking, and not me. Even when I know it’s the pain talking for me and I let it anyway. Even when all I want to do is sit and wallow and feel sorry for myself you-” He felt embarrassingly close to tears. “You never fail to share what little light you might have to offer; to me, to Sirius and James, to everyone around you. It’s one of the things I love most about you, and I berated you for it.” 

More silence.

”I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t push. He simply laid on his stomach beneath an old oak tree in the Forbidden Forest under the light of the waning moon as he watched your fur fall and rise in time with your breathing whilst you refused to look at him. The only movement other than the infinitesimal twitching of your legs and ears. 

“Okay, that’s alright.” He sighed after an unknown stretch of time, turning his head to rest his cheek against his folded arms. “I’ll be here, okay? Whenever you’re ready.” 

Remus’ blinks became sticky with the moisture gathering along his eyelashes between the cold and the sleet quickly soaking him through the top of his jacket, leaving him damp on all sides. 

He was just about resigned to spending the entire night out here, perhaps being found by a rather smug Sirius or slightly less smug but no less pleased James covered in a thick layer of frost not unlike the heather bushes lining much of the landscape come morning when he felt a wet, warm nudge to his cheek.

He peeled his eyes open to see a small red fox standing above him with a curious tilt to its head.

“I’m fine to wait out here if that’s what you need, dove.” He assured you, shifting his head to look at you though never lifting it from his arms. “Don’t worry on my account.”

Your ears twitched again - towards something deep in the forest behind you - but you kept your eyes dutifully on him before pressing another boop to his cheek. 

“Ready to go inside?” He asked, daring to prop himself up on his elbows. A definitive yipping sound told him yes, you were. 

Remus finally moved to stand, hip cracking audibly though he kept his face painfully neutral so as not to have you feeling inadvertently guilty. Remus thought he probably deserved to spend more time on the cold wet ground for the way he spoke to you.

“Hope this doesn’t mean you’ve gone and forgiven me yet, Vix.” He declared sternly, bending slightly to pick you up when you stood on your hind legs to press gentle paws into his thigh. “I have much more grovelling to do.”

You made a fox-like laughing sound before shoving your nose into his neck, nuzzling closer to him in as much of a hug as a fox could manage. 

“And if Sirius or James ever spoke to you that way, I’d expect you to leave them begging for days.”

[franavu]

I think one of the problems with C3 is structural. Matt seems to be wanting to tell a story with themes about Gods, Divinity and Religion, which, great. But if you're going with those themes one of the worldbuilding questions that should at least be thought about is "in a world where the Gods are real, what does that mean for culture, society and community?" and the answer seems to be "it doesn't". It's like the religion parts are worldbuilding-adjacent, like, "I guess they're religious too." And this was fine for the previous campaigns and literally any other story, but for what C3 is doing, it should at least have been minimally addressed.

Part of it was that Matt could have gone in pre-campaign-prep, "For reasons, your character needs to have an opinion on the Gods that is rooted in your background." Something like, "the orphanage that Ashton grew up in was run by Lawbearer people and they came down hard on even minimal rule breaking, which made it a miserable place for a kid like Aston to grow up in, so he's understandably bitter." Or, "of course Chetney prays to the All-Hammer, he's a craftsman, he tries to go to the temple on his holy day, but he hasn't managed it for the last 20 years, and he feels vaguely guilty about it." That would have at least given the PCs some connection to the larger narrative.

It's also that in the whole first arc the Gods weren't relevant unless the BHs specifically needed a priest for something. And themes of religion could have been there from the beginning, which could have connected with the overall Predathos narrative. I think something really interesting could have been done with Jrusar, and worship of the Lawbearer and the Wildmother, and civilization rising from the wilds. It needn't have been particularly invasive, just there in the background, the same way the governmental structure was explained but not particularly relevant for what the BHs were doing there.

And it's such a shame, because Matt is really good with personal faith, and individual interaction with the Gods, but it seems to break down with organized religion. And I don't know if it's a blindspot, or if he was so busy during pre-campaign-prep that he just went with what he had, which, again, would have been perfectly fine for literally any other story, just not this one. It's just that this whole campaign feels like missed opportunities, and the feeling like it could have been so much better. 

(Like, for example, a personal frustration is that the Vasselheim parts could have shown diversity in forms of worship for different parts of Exandria, and diversity in ritual from priests of different Prime Deities, and show that despite their differences they are all working together towards a common goal. Instead in communal situations, we get fantasy-Protestantism, with a sprinkle of fantasy-Catholicism ritual on top. (And don't get me started on the alcohol ban, don't the fruits come from the Wildmother's bounty, grown and harvested under the Dawnfather's aegis? Isn't the All-Hammer the God of all craftsmen, including the vintner and the brewer?) It could have still been a bleak and hard place, just rooted specifically in the religions and Gods of Exandria.)

[copperrook]

Eugene's robe is real and it is mine.

You'll forgive me for not wearing it off-shoulder right at the mo, since Tumblr has a problem with tiddies and all.

Construction details under the cut

Now if you read my tags on the previous post, you'll know that it was my intention to make this robe out of some silk that had been languishing in my fabric storage, small problem though

Not all of it is black

(Left two are raw silk, different weights, right's a haboti silk scarf)

Now that's an easy enough fix

I did have to do about three passes to get them to match though, as black is a notoriously hard colour to dye

Next one must make a mock-up out of an inferior material, this here is poplin.

Now if you were just making this costume-quality, this material would be fine, slap on a collar, hem and overlock this guy and he'll do great, I'm just extra.

You'll also note the piecing on the shoulders here, that is because i did not have enough silk to cut it all in one piece

That picture to the right is how much in total was left as offcuts from all the silk used.

Fun huh?

Does also mean it's not floor length, but on the plus side it's my preferred length anyway

Eugene proper doesn't need to move his legs when walking after all

Anyways then it was just a matter of sewing the whole thing together (no pics, soz) most of it is machine sewn (silk thread) with top stitched flat felled seams, that includes the split in the back where it essentially runs from a flat felled seam to a hem by just pressing outwards and tucking under.

The entire collar was whipped stitched down on the inside within the seam allowance to avoid any top stitching lines on the outside or nasty flappy bits on the inside. (And because haboti LOVES to warp, which was not entirely circumvented with this method)

The arms eye seams were also hand finished with an invisible felling whip stitch, and the sleeve bottoms hemmed with a sort of invisible pad stitch.

The several days worth of hand stitching just listed is why this took me a while.

And so i chose a good-enough scarf for a shash-yeah jk i made the sash from scratch out of yet more Haboti silk and dyed it.

I don't think it's quite dark enough so I may dye it again later.

If you want a approx amount of fabric that's in this piece, the robe is a bit over 4 meters of silk Total?

And the sash is about 3mx70cm on top of that.

Now I'm gonna go luxuriate in this robe I stole from our fictional son, happy S3 E2 of Midnight Alley y'all!

[jina1028]

Right one

Taesan x fem!reader

Word count: 4.7K

Categories: fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn (sorry it's so long), smut, virgin reader, older reader, daddy/mommy said as joke, kissing, cuddling, making out, handjob but not really (?), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this irl), creampie, tell me if I missed something.

This fic is based on this anon request, hope this somewhat meets your expectations 🫶

English is not my first language, so constructive criticism is appreciated!

Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated but don't repost!

The characters and facts described in this fic don't represents real people or events.

🚫 MDNI 🚫

~♡~

“You know what, we should go on a trip together!”

Your best friend Dongmin - or Taesan, like you used to call him in your friends group because of his height - suggested after a long talk about how your lives had felt stressful lately.

You had broken up with your boyfriend about a month ago, finding out he had been cheating on you with two different girls. Not that you had lost much since you dated for about four months, but still it hurt so much when you thought you were on the same page, thinking about possibly having a future together, while he fooled around behind your back.

As for Taesan, he was tired from university exams and his part time job at a convenience store, and he was finally having a break from both in two weeks, according to what he was saying.

“I don't know… What kind of trip? I've never traveled with friends before.”

Taesan pursed his lips and rested his chin on his palm, humming as he criss crossed his long legs sitting on your couch with his elbows on his knees.

"Uhm, what if we go to Japan? Tokyo? Osaka? Both?”

Your head snapped to look at him with wide eyes, so fast you almost hurt your neck.

“Oh you meant a trip abroad?”

“So what, it's a short trip by plane.”

“Yeah but… it's gonna be more expensive if we gotta buy tickets, and hotel rooms…”

“Well, it's not like it would be much cheaper if we went, I don't know, to Busan by train, or Jeju… We'll need hotel rooms anyway, unless you wanna share a room with a man.”

You stared at him, thinking about his proposal about Japan.

“Fine, sounds good!”

He looked taken aback for a moment, widening his eyes to look at you.

“You really wanna share a room with me?” he pointed at his own chest.

You sighed, rolling your eyes “Not that, I was talking about going to Japan, let's do it!”

And so it was settled, you decided for Tokyo in the end, you booked your hotel rooms and flight tickets, and two weeks later you were there.

On your first day you just walked around Akihabara, looking into stores and chilling into cute cafes, where you insisted on him to wear cat ears and commenting on how cute he looked, trying to reach your hand to pet his head as he swatted it away, frowning and pouting, making you giggle at how he looked even cuter like that.

Later you just found a nice place to have a quick dinner and called it a day since you both were tired.

“You wanna sleep right away? I can keep you company and watch something on netflix if you're not too tired.”

You pondered Taesan's offer but decided to part ways at your door since you felt exhausted.

“I think I'll just take a shower and head to bed.” You yawned, waving and saying goodnight to your friend.

That night, as much as you felt drained of your energies, you couldn't sleep, tossing and turning, blaming it on the different bed, even though you had to admit the bed felt like a cloud. So what was the problem?

You grabbed your phone from the night stand and typed a message to your friend.

You asleep?

You waited for a bit but received no reply, so you just sighed and scrolled through your socials, waiting for morning to arrive so you could wake him up too early instead of waiting for his alarm to go off.

You started getting ready at 5.30 A.M. just so you didn't waste time after waking up Taesan.

When it was 6.30 A.M. you decided you had waited enough, so you called him.

You had to try twice before he picked up the phone, his groggy, raspy voice greeting you on the other side.

“Hello?”

“Good morning! Rise and shine, we have places to go, come on!”

There was silence for a few seconds.

“It's 6 fucking 30. Leave me alone.”

You felt your eyebrow ticking.

“You have no respect for your elders, do you?”

Silence again. He hung up. You sighed, getting up from the bed where you sat and went straight to his room next to yours, knocking on the white colored PVC.

You knocked again until you heard noises and curses behind the door, Taesan’s tall figure soon standing in front of you, holding the shin he had just hit on the furniture on his way to the door.

His hair was a mess, eyes half closed, a frown on his face as he hissed because of the pain.

When he straightened up you couldn't help but notice his pants tenting as your eyes shifted up from his injured shin to his face.

“Uhm, will you take care of your friend here before taking me into your room, please?” you teased him.

He looked down, then up again into your eyes with a half smirk on his lips.

“It's rude to just stare without shaking hands when you first meet someone, my friend is offended.”

“Dude, just go to the bathroom and do your stuff, let's meet downstairs!”

You hoped you hid your flustered expression well enough and stormed off without waiting for a reply.

The fact was, you were attracted to Taesan, he was good looking of course, and you felt some kind of chemistry around him. But you always thought it was one sided, and not wanting to ruin your friendship you always ignored the butterflies whenever he got closer to you or he pulled some flirtatious joke. The trip together seemed fun, until you started to realize being so close to him all the time was starting to get difficult on your part.

“So, what are we gonna do today? Any ideas?” Taesan approached you sitting on the sofa at the reception, scaring you as you were lost in thought.

You observed his relaxed features as you recovered from the jumpscare, hand resting on your chest.

“Oh, you don't seem grumpy anymore…”

He smiled innocently at you “Yeah, I took a nice, refreshing shower and now I feel great… So, where do we go today?”

You tried to ignore the subtle implication in Taesan's reply, your mind briefly going back to his accidental morning wood reveal.

“I was looking through the brochures at the reception and I really wanna try this onsen.”

You showed him the brochure where it described the type of service, the cost and how to reach your destination, which was a bit outside the city towards the mountains.

Taesan read a bit through it and eyed you raising his brows “You know we're supposed to be naked in there, right?”

“Yeah I know, but it's fine as long as we can cover ourselves somehow, like with a towel or something… And we can have a private room with its little private pool so we don't have to be naked in front of a lot of people like it normally would be!” you explained with your index finger raised.

“Somehow that's even worse…”

“What?” you couldn't hear him talking to himself.

“Nothing, if you really wanna go…”

“Yeah, I can't leave Japan without trying a real onsen!”

So after a couple of hours you were at the onsen reception, renting your private room and your bathrobes and ordering some food since you didn't have breakfast yet.

You both changed outfits and went to your room with food and drinks in hand, relieved to at least find some towels next to the little pool.

You ate chatting about what to do for dinner once you get back to the city, but when you finished your food the room fell silent.

“Well… Should we get in now?”

Taesan questioned, looking at you as he undid the belt on his bathrobe and started sliding it off his broad shoulders.

You panicked “Wait! Not in front of me! At least grab a towel first!”

You didn't know where to put your hands, on your whole face or in front of his crotch to block the dangerous area from your sight.

Taesan laughed out loud “Relax, I was just kidding, I'm not gonna flash you like this!”

“You little moron…” you cursed at him under your breath as he kept snickering, getting up to get a towel for himself and another one which he tossed at your face, trying to lighten the atmosphere and bring back your usual bickering mood.

You felt your face burning up as you told him to turn around while you wrapped yourself in the white towel and he did the same covering his waist and crotch.

You tried not to ogle at his broad chest, not wanting to get caught and give yourself away. You were starting to regret suggesting this kind of activity, overestimating your control over your emotions and body reactions, the butterflies in your stomach storming around, making you almost nauseous.

You both carefully dipped into the hot water, keeping your towels secured around your bodies and you tried to relax, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths as you rested your head on a smooth rock.

It was silent for a while and your mind started wandering until you felt like sharing some of your concerns with Taesan, who was sitting with his arms spread on the edge of the pool, eyes closed.

“Hey… I was thinking, what would you do if your girlfriend didn't have sex with you even after months into the relationship?”

“What kind of question is this?” Taesan furrowed his brows.

“Just think about it and answer. Would you cheat on her? Wait until she feels like doing it? What would you do?”

“Wait for her to feel safe with me, of course.”

You opened your eyes, side eyeing him as he still rested his head on the edge of the pool with his eyes closed.

“Be honest, I won't judge you…”

“I'm being honest, if I was into a relationship I would have love and respect for her, if I ever feel the need to cheat on my girlfriend, why keep the relationship going in the first place?”

“Right, that's a good point!”

“And” he continued “much before starting to think about cheating, which makes no sense to me, I'd try and understand why my girlfriend doesn't want to have sex with me, if I think that's an issue.”

“What if she's just scared… ‘Cause she's a virgin?” You eyed him, his eyes now open, staring at the plants next to the pool as he thought about his answer.

“I'd try to make her feel safe, and try not to make her feel pressured into doing it until she feels ready.”

He then shifted his gaze on your eyes “I'd feel honored to be her first, so I'd patiently wait for her.”

You hummed, letting his words resonate in your head, while you slowly slipped under the hot water surface, your nose barely out as you started feeling dizzy and closing your eyes. You could barely hear Taesan's voice calling your name as the heat got to your head and made you faint.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself laying on the wooden floor next to the pool, Taesan kneeling next to you, holding up your legs and fanning your face with the uchiwa the onsen provided you earlier.

He called your name again, a clearly worried expression on his face while you gradually regained conscience and he breathed a relieved sigh as you called his name and assured him you were fine.

“Lay there and keep your legs up, I'm calling the staff.”

“No no, I'm ok, just ask for some shaved ice so I can eat it and cool down a bit!”

“You sure?” Taesan eyed you suspiciously as he grabbed the phone.

“Yeah, I feel a lot better here outside the pool. I want melon on the shaved ice!”

He hummed, calling for room service, his eyes never leaving you as you kept fanning yourself.

“I'm ordering some cold noodles as well since it's lunch time already.”

The rest of the morning passed as you ate and relaxed, cooling down as Taesan constantly kept an eye on you, insisting on going back to the hotel right after lunch so you could rest in your room.

He allowed you some privacy just so you both could take a shower in your respective rooms then insisted on keeping you company watching netflix from the tablet in your room until dinner, which you ordered once again with room service.

“What do you wanna do after dinner?” you asked while chewing on your chicken skewers.

"What do you mean? We're staying in your room tonight, I wanna be sure you're not fainting again.”

“But-”

“We'll see what to do tomorrow morning after you rest.” Taesan stared at you.

“Ok daddy…” you teased him.

“Don't call me that, you're older than me, it makes me cringe.”

“You're implying you wouldn't mind me calling you daddy if I were younger?”

“It's not like that… How’d you react if I called you mommy?”

You almost choked on your water, a playful smirk on Taesan's lips as he watched you try to regain some composure.

“It's so fun, you always start shit then get flustered when I play your own game…” He got up from the chair and reached for the door.

“Gonna brush my teeth, I'll be right back. Find something to watch on netflix in the meantime.”

When you let him in your room again he went straight to your bed, fixing a pillow behind his back and watching you expectantly, making room next to him as you joined.

You chose something light to watch, just so you could relax before bed, all the while Taesan kept you close to him with his arm around your shoulders, stroking your arm gently and eventually resting his cheek on the side of your head, inhaling the faint scent of your shampoo.

You felt so warm, your cheeks heating up as you weren't used to such closeness, even though you enjoyed it.

When the movie was over and Taesan started moving to get up you suddenly clung to him and caged his arms and legs tangling yours together.

“Don't go, please…”

“What now, you wanna sleep together?”

When you didn't reply but just squeezed him more he squirmed just enough to free himself a bit and be able to look at your face, which you tried to hide against his chest, your eyes suddenly welling up with tears at the thought of being alone the whole night after the scare of that morning.

“Wait, you really want me to stay?”

“Don't laugh at me, I'm scared to be alone, ok?” You defended yourself.

“I'm not laughing at you. It's just, you acted so tough I thought I was the only one being worried… You really got scared, huh?”

He hugged you as you nodded your head as a reply.

“I'm sleeping here tonight if you want me to, don't worry.”

You eventually found yourself clawing at his white shirt like you were scared he would run away, as he shifted on his side to face you and get closer to you, his arm resting on your waist as you intertwined your leg between his.

After a while you thought he fell asleep as he didn't move anymore.

“Taesan…” you whispered and got no reply, but you continued anyway murmuring a little louder “Thanks, I really feel safe with you.”

He surprised you as he moved his arm, taking your hand into his big one, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles as you stopped breathing for a second.

“I'm glad, I really care about you, even though I always nag you…”

You chuckled “I like it, secretly…”

“And secretly, I like you… A lot.” Taesan confessed, looking at you in the faint light coming from the city outside the window.

“You better never scare me again like you did today, ok?”

He held you closer to his chest as he pressed his lips on your forehead, his warmth somewhat comforting even in the warm early summer weather.

You snuggled closer to him if that was even possible and raised your head, your noses brushing together as you gazed at him in the faint light, silently asking for him to cross the already blurry line between friendship and something more.

And he finally did, cupping your warm cheek into his large hand, holding you like he was scared to hurt you, as he brushed his lips against yours, then pressing them together when he felt your arms gripping his shirt, nails lightly scratching his back through the thin fabric.

You both sighed as you parted from the brief kiss, knowing your relationship would change forever and there was no going back.

You smiled as he pecked your lips again and again, his hands wandering until one rested on your hip, his thumb brushing your exposed skin as your pink shirt rode up your waist.

You hummed against his lips as his hand slid to the back of your thigh, hoisting it up to hook around his own thigh, his kisses now becoming more hot and passionate, your little positive sounds and reactions spurring him on.

His wet tongue slipped past your parted lips as you threaded your fingers through his dark locks, your making out more and more intense as he subtly started to roll his hips against yours.

And you felt it, his stiff bulge pressing against your clothed heat, eliciting a shy moan from you as his movements put pressure on your clit, a damp spot starting to form on your panties now.

This was all new to you, you never felt comfortable enough to go past some kissing with your ex.

You felt scared and safe at the same time, you felt an intimate connection with Taesan you'd never felt with anyone else before.

His soft lips and tongue sent sparks through your body as he kept kissing you with fervor, then he moved to your cheek, your jaw, your neck, as he pushed you to lay on your back, slotting himself between your spread legs, hips rolling and pressing down on you.

You couldn't stop your moans when he found a sensitive spot on your neck, sucking and biting on it, goosebumps forming on your body and shivers making you squirm under his weight.

Taesan stopped after a while, sliding his hands under the hem of your shirt and looking at you, making sure you still felt comfortable as he lifted your shirt above your chest and helped you remove it, revealing your white, lacey bra, his breath catching in his throat as he admired you.

“Don't stare…” your feeble voice snapped him out of his awestruck state and he smiled at you, looking directly into your eyes.

“Sorry…” he apologized before lifting his own shirt above his head, thinking if he was naked as well you would feel a bit less self conscious.

And it worked, your mind too preoccupied deciding whether or not to stare at his abs, or chest or just focus on his eyes.

Then your wandering eyes fell on the obvious tent in his grey sweats, your bottom lip between your teeth as you ogled it, curious to know how it would look if he was completely naked, if it really was as big as it looked while still restrained in his pants.

Taesan followed your gaze, noticing how you subtly squirmed, not being able to rub your thighs together as they were spread around his legs while he kneeled in front of you.

He then gently took your hand in his and put it on his abs just above the waistband, suggesting you touch him where he needed it most, but still not wanting to force you.

You looked up at him and then back down again where your hand rested, pressing a little and dragging it down to stroke on top of his bulge, experimentally wrapping your fingers around it as best as you could while it was still clothed.

It felt hot, hard and big, almost heavy as you curiously seized it, moving your hand slowly up and down.

You heard a groan leaving his throat as your thumb reached above the tip and pressed a bit, continuing your experimental strokes when Taesan suddenly wrapped his fingers around your wrist to stop your movements, using his other hand to pull down his sweats and reveal a wet patch on the side of his grey boxers, where his swollen tip sat, painfully restrained by the fabric.

He brought your hand on his clothed shaft again, your palm now damp with his precum as you resumed your strokes, looking up at him as he spoke, voice unusually raspy and strained.

“See what you do to me? Think I'll go insane… fuck-”

He cursed as you pressed your thumb under his slit, his shaft twitching as you kept stroking until he had to grab your wrist and stop you, already close to release.

You looked at him, concerned that maybe you did something wrong.

“Feels too good, don't wanna cum in my pants…” he chuckled as he pushed you down on the mattress once more, kissing you, tongues tangling together as he slowly reached a hand to massage on your breast through the fabric of your bra, eliciting a moan as his fingers brushed on your nipple, his hand then inching down to your blue shorts, slowly slipping his fingers past your waistband, observing your reaction as you took shaky breaths through your slightly agape lips.

He grasped the waistband and pulled your shorts down, revealing your white panties as he smirked, noticing how they matched your bra and asking himself if it was possible you actually planned this beforehand.

Taesan took a moment to admire you as you tried to cover yourself with your arms, suddenly feeling shy, before he reached his hand between your legs to caress your heat through the fabric, sliding his index and middle finger down your folds, feeling how your wetness pooled on the seat of your panties, the small squelching sounds leaving no doubts as he moved his fingers slowly up and down and in slow circles around your clit, little moans and whines filling his ears as he went back to kissing and sucking on your neck.

You suddenly felt his fingers pulling your panties to the side, his digits sliding through your wet folds as he groaned in your neck, nibbling and pulling on the skin, his fingers slowly circling your entrance until you felt his middle finger slowly prodding at your tight hole.

You gasped as he slowly and gently pushed inside, not expecting him to push to the knuckle but he did, stilling as you adjusted to the intrusion, then slowly starting to massage your walls, slightly curling it and pressing it upward until he found your most sensitive spot, signaled by your moans increasing in volume and frequency.

As you were still a virgin, you felt incredibly full just with one finger so you got a bit apprehensive when Taesan carefully started pushing his second digit along his middle finger as he slowly pumped in and out, your walls tight around it.

You grabbed his wrist stilling his movement before he could properly push his second digit inside.

“Wait, I- I think it’ll be too much… I'm not… Used to it.”

Taesan kissed your forehead and locked eyes with you, his face still close to yours, sharing the same air as you breathed heavily.

“This is your first time, right?”

You knew Taesan was not dumb, he would put two and two together after the apparently random talk that morning about cheating and virginity, so you just nodded without questions, still looking into his brown eyes.

“You still want me to be your first?”

“Yes.” You replied without hesitation.

“Please, trust me. I'll make you feel so good, I promise…”

You nodded before he closed the gap and kissed you slowly, your tongues chasing each other as he resumed his fingers’ movements, your muscles eventually relaxing and he took it as a sign to push his second finger in.

And so he did, carefully stretching you as the initial burn subsided and you started enjoying the sensation of his fingers curling and pressing around your warm walls.

He kept at it for a while, your hips eventually moving on their own as you started clenching around his digits, your climax slowly approaching, when a whine left your mouth, his fingers retracting from your wet warmth before you could reach your high.

Taesan brushed a hand on your hair and pecked your lips as he pulled down your underwear, his own following soon, leaving both of you naked except for your bra.

He grabbed one of your thighs, his still wet fingers dipping in the plush of your skin as his grip tightened and he wrapped it around his waist.

Like that you finally felt his shaft directly pressing against your core, and soon you understood why he insisted on stretching you out a bit more with his fingers.

His swollen tip struggled to slip past your tight entrance as he tried to guide it inside of you using his hand.

“Baby, relax, you're so tight…”

His tip was barely halfway in when he started massaging your clit, more wetness seeping around your entrance as he slowly pushed, feeling your muscles spasming, relaxing just to tighten again and again around his tip, but he eventually managed to fit inside, pausing for a moment, breathing heavily as you got accustomed to the feeling and he kept massaging your swollen clit.

“Doing so good, taking me so well…” he praised you, kissing your cheek as you panted and whimpered as he slowly started moving his hips again, moving back a little, spreading your arousal and pushing back a little more, your walls gripping him every time he tried to pull out a bit, until he felt he could push a little bit more roughly and he did, unable to hold back anymore as he finally bottomed out and he started thrusting as gently as his pleasure filled mind could allow.

The stretch felt unfamiliar but enjoyable as he dragged his shaft in and out, hitting deeply, spurred on by your moans and whimpers, your nails finding purchase on his neck and back.

Then you heard your own voice like it was someone else speaking, urging him to give you more, to fuck you harder, to come inside of you and make you his.

“You sure? Want me to- ugh- fuck you harder? Like this?” Taesan punctuated his words with hard thrusts as he grabbed both your legs and put them on his shoulders, almost folding you in half into the mattress.

You couldn't recognize your own voice as you moaned loudly with each deep thrust, your eyes squeezing shut as you finally came hard on his pistoning shaft, your walls convulsing on him, arousal coating his length as he groaned at the feeling, precum mixing to your juices.

With a final hard thrust he fucked into your spent cunt one more time and stilled as he emptied himself inside of you, the feeling of his warm seed coating your insides making you clench on his cock one more time, moaning his name as you slowly regained conscience of who you were and what had just happened.

Taesan carefully pulled out, observing in awe as his cum seeped out of you, cursing at the arousing sight, biting his lip.

You sat up and reached for him, pulling his face to yours to share a passionate kiss.

He caressed your cheek and opened his mouth to talk at the same moment as you did.

“I love you.”

You both giggled, the same sentence coming out of your mouths at the same time, and you were sure Taesan was the right one all this time and you were glad he felt the same.

[avatarcompanion]

I get what you're saying, but that is kind of is what OP is getting at I think...

You are right they were wrong to promote it as "honoring" and staying true to the cartoon, because it made people go into it with higher expectations than they could live up to. I think that was a bit comparing it to the live action we don't speak about, and it is true this one is much more respectful to atla, because it wouldn't be hard to be (not casting super racist). I also think they were arrogant enough to think people would consider it even better than the cartoon. That is completely on them. The warning signs were actually them calling the show iffy and sexist and so on, as if they were gonna improve it.

So they should have said from the beginning things like "we are retelling with a bigger focus on characters like Sokka, Azula and Zuko. We are more interested in elements of the story such as x, we thing it's fun to bring in elements of later lore from the comics and a lok, etc".

However, looking outside of those comments, there was no reason to go into it expecting it actually would honor all those elements you talk about. Because most adaptions DON'T stay "true" to their source material. Most adaptions are OOC. Most adaptations do focus more on elements that the new creators care about, etc.

They should have embraced that, and in fact it's fine to do that. Most of your points that it's OOC I agree with, but it's only a problem because they said they were going to stay true to it. It is in itself not a flaw to make an adaption that differs vastly or represents a story differently than an original, if you are presenting it as such.

It's not worse or more OOC than many other adaptions of YA material like Harry Potter or Hunger Games. They NEVER capture the original heart, and shouldn't even try to. In this case, ignoring what they said, the story itself actually felt far more up front about radically altering things and NOT being a shot by shot adaption than those examples I gave.

That is why from the beginning I stopped expecting it to capture the same spirit or be in character. I started just watching it for all it did DIFFERENTLY, and actually only found those things interesting. Why? Because I already have 'the heart of atla' in the actual atla.

There is also the fact it's a freaking NETFLIX show (most of their own productions suck) and bryke left if for 'creative reaaons'. There was no reason to expect it to be good at all. The fact it's watchable and actually did interesting new things AT ALL with some characters (ex Azula, Suki) and was visually immersive, is a bonus for many who went into it with low expectations.

So the main problem is not that it's OOC and didn't have atla's heart, but their arrogance about it, and even more so, they didn't make anything anywhere nearly as relevant or creative on their own. Which might improve with more seasons.

Hot take: 90% of the people who are complaining about the live action ATLA either went into it wanting to complain about it or expected a perfect adaptation which they knew would never happen

[graciedollie]

hii hi, could you make one where grayson and reader are wives and work together as council guards until one day reader arrives injured and grayson becomes extremely worried. I would really be happy if you did that! ❤️‍🩹, I love your writing, do it in your own time!!

Complications

Pair: Grayson x FemCouncilGuard!Reader

Summary: It was a pretty normal day while you were doing your normal duties, having to be sent to make an arrest in the grimy streets of Zaun. The arrest wasn’t going to go smooth obviously, but it definitely wasn’t supposed to go this way either.

Warning(s): Description of injuries (stab wound) ,mention of bleeding, swearing (ofc), reader being stubborn, Grayson scolding reader, fluff added too ofc <3, reader is kind of a smartass

A/N: I love writing for my bbg <3 also feel free to leave any requests

The sun was slowly turning in for the late evening, casting a beautiful hue of orange and purple across the hazy skies. You were handling your usual duties before you were requested by the councils, figuring it would be about handling a certain case. It didn’t take you long before you stumbled upon the large room, seeing all the members and your wife, standing attentively.

Grayson looked over at you as you stood next to her, flashing you a small smile before turning her serious focus back to the council members before one of them spoke, who happened to be council Mel Medarda.

“There have been reports of a group—preferably from the Undercity—causing havoc among our city, leading to the people being understandably upset. I trust that you will sort this problem, yes?”

Before Grayson could even speak, you quickly agreed with a swift nod and eager words. “Yes ma’am, of course. I can assure you this little mishap will be sorted.” In return, Mel gave you a soft smile and a firm nod before dismissing the both of you.

As the two of you soon left and walked along the long hallways, you were suddenly stopped by the large hands of your wife on your shoulders. You turned to look at her with a confused expression before she started to speak, “Sweetheart, I think it’s best if you let me take this one with you, yes? I know you’re well on your own, but you haven’t gone much in the Undercity as much as me.”

You couldn’t help, but grunt in slight irritation at her words, knowing she only worried for your safety—you were her wife for God’s sake. “Baby, I can do just as fine on my own. I’ll just take Marcus and backup with me, it’ll be fine.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, obviously not fond of the idea of not being partnered up with you for this case—especially such as these. Her eyes stared in yours intensely before softening, nodding slowly with a sigh.

“Alright…but, if I hear one bad thing goes down there..”

“It’ll be fine, Honey. I can handle it, plus I’ll have hep with me.

How hard could this possibly be? All you were doing is going down to the Lanes and making an arrest, nothing out of the ordinary.

Oh honey, you were wrong.

The night took over the golden sky, leaving the sky blanketed in a dark cover. Venturing into Zaun wasn’t the most extravagant thing, if you’re being honest. It was grimy. People giving you dirty looks. And definitely different from Piltover. Neon lights and signs crowded the dark streets, every angle except the dingy alleys.

The more and more you ventured into the streets, the more you realized how this arrest was going to be anything, but easy. You and your crew walked through the streets, looking around with hardened gaze at the peering standbys—obviously noticing the fiery glares.

Based on the information you and your crew were given, it seem that the group hung around a certain abandoned building—which didn’t take too long to stumble upon. You glared at the group, seeing how their teeth were yellow and how buffed they looked.

“We can make this easy or not so easy. All your choice.”

The group looked around at each other with disbelief before turning back to you with a chuckle, eyeing you as if you were prey—which you definitely seemed so to them. “Would ya look at that? Think you’re gonna take us in? We’re not going down without a damn fight.”

Sometimes you wondered why you even chose this damn job sometimes.

“Let me make this clear.”

That was all you said before you and another of your crew pulled your guns, aiming them directly at the group, earning a grunt of shock and irritation.

“Last chance.”

The group scowled at your crew as the rest of the crew pulled out the restraints, seeing how they dangled dangerously in their grasp. All of sudden, one of the members charged at you before you quickly aimed at the man before..

WHACK.

You don’t know how it happened or what did it come from, but all you knew was that you were on the floor and had blood dribbling down your lips—most likely from being brutally punched. Your eyes glared at the mysterious person, seeing them emerge from the shadow and saw that it was woman. You quickly shuffled onto your feet, looking over at your crew while they were busy handling the others before focusing your attention back to woman.

She had a nasty grin on her chapped lips, slipping a sharp knife from the back of her pants as she eyed you steadily—seeing how you were focused solely on her. “Oh c’mon, can’t handle a little punch?”

You grunted at her taunt before trying to reach for your gun, but saw that it was fucking gone? Fucking great. Luckily, you had close combat experience. You were steady on your feet, keeping eye contact with the woman before she lunged at you with her knife, causing you to lean back and grab her arm to pin it behind her back as she stumbled to the ground and the knife clatter out her hand.

“Made this way harder than it had to be.”

Your eyes narrowed down at the woman as you pinned her wrist behind the small of her back, only moving one hand to reach for the cuffs, but that was your biggest mistake. The woman quickly reached for a knife on her side and sliced you on the side of your stomach, earning a pained yelp as you scrambled back from the woman.

“Wonder how you made it this far..”

You sneered at the woman, panting heavily as you applied pressure to the bleeding wound before slowly standing up as did she. It started to feel that maybe—just maybe—you should’ve listen to your wife.

The woman chuckled lowly before quickly charging at you, but was quickly clocked in the back of her head by Marcus with a gun—specifically, your gun that was scattered to the side—successfully cuffing her. The rest of the crew cuffed the rest of the group, herding them back. He added the woman in with the her group as they were escorted away, shouting out streams of profanities and whatnot.

His eyes immediately snapped back to you as you huffed heavily, seeing the blood seep through the clothes onto your hand gradually. He quickly helped you, throwing your arm over his shoulder as he helped you walk.

“Shit—you ok? What the hell happened back there?” He grunted lowly as you both shuffled back through the grimy streets and onto the bridge, crossing over to piltover.

“Some fuckin’—shit—girl came from nowhere and just punched me…and stabbed me..” Your voice was strained and heavy, trying not to wince too much as the slash only continued to bleed heavily.

“God…do you have any idea how stupid it was to take this case? You know Grayson is already going to be on mine and your ass.”

“Mhm, I know…let’s just focus on me not dying, yeah?”

and brother, was he right.

You laid in the infirmary, laying slightly uncomfortably as the slash on your side was still recovering. The blood loss wasn’t too bad, but scary and a blessing that you survived. The infirmary was nice and quiet, despite having doctors check in on you and here and there, but that didn’t last long until..

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Your eyes shot up quickly at the familiar voice, seeing your absolutely enraged wife rushing over to your side, quickly embracing you before caressing your face with a firm grasp and stern glare.

“Baby, listen—“

“Don’t give me that! I told you that I didn’t feel right about you going there. I trusted that you could handle it. Do you have any idea how worried I was when I was informed to hear that my wife was in the infirmary—being treated for a stab wound? Do you really?”

Her voice was stern, but held a edge of obvious concern and worry—though she was pissed. You frowned slightly as she scolded you, which was definitely expected from her, but you knew she was only concerned and worried for you.

“Honey, I know you’re upset, but I handled a good bit on my own…” Your voice was raspy and low, due to being sleep for a good while or so. She let out a heavy sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose, looking at you with a gradually softening before her hand caressed her cheek.

“I know and I’m proud that you did, but still, it was a risky idea to even take that case in a first place…you could’ve let me handled it.”

Though she was pissed, she still was worried and highly concerned for her dear wife, who happened to look like an angel despite being injured. Her thumb brushed over your cheek, gazing at you with obvious fret in her eyes as she murmured softly, “I swear I have to keep my patience in check with you…”

“Aww, I know you still love me.”

She couldn’t help, but chuckle at your cocky little remark, looking at you with a raised brow and an amused smile etched on her lips before brushing her hand over your thighs.

“Of course, I do, love. Though sometimes you make me want to strangle you..”

“Like how that woman wanted to before she stabbed me?”

Her eyes widened in surprise at your worst-timing joke, glaring at you with a tight pursed frown on her lips as she pointed a finger at you, “That is not funny.”

“What, you brought it up!?”

It would definitely be a wild before you ever got a case to go back to Zaun…it was definitely for the best to avoid complications.

hope you enjoyed and hoped this was to your liking, anon <3

[speed-world]

Hello i am Engineer Anon. I humbly request that if you can do a Baker reader.

The Baker meets Stormbringer Cookie and her Sky Deities, and I want to see there thoughts on the Baker, like their thought on when they first encounter eachother and how they grow closer to the Eachother.

From- Engineer Anon🔧

Stormbringer Cookie wasn’t shaken when she first met you; in fact she was incredibly interested. It can be dangerous for a cookie to come face to face with a Baker, but it���s not an issue in the slightest for Stormbringer. She’ll say how fortunate you are to meet the Sky God, and will bless you with a very small spectacle of her prowess (it’s still an incredible sight in spite of it being a sliver at a look of her power).

She wasn’t expecting to see you after your first encounter; she figured you’d be busy creating other cookies while she’s handling the creation of Life Powder. However, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little curious to know more about you…

You both share a few stories about one another, giving each other more insight to some of the responsibilities you both have. Despite being a god, it seemed that there are a few things that even Stormbringer could learn from another being. Let it be a Baker to introduce her to another side of life, and Stormbringer doesn’t complain!

Stormbringer figured it wouldn’t be a problem to introduce you to the cookies she created. After all, you showed her your creations, so why not return the favor! You were amazed that the other cookies she created weren’t like what you baked, because she created other deities (almost) like herself!

Cloud Deity Cookie was surprised when you two first met. He considered himself fortunate to meet you - different from what Stormbringer was like - and is curious to know how you were able to so easily befriend Stormbringer Cookie!

You were curious seeing how his creation of clouds contributed to the cycle of life powder; which surprised him since he figured it wasn’t as impressive as what you-a Baker-can do. After seeing a display of the various things he could do by manipulating the clouds, you would only applaud in awe, which made him lightly blush from the cheering.

You two grew incredibly close as Cloud Deity Cookie learned more about your process of baking cookies. You offered the idea of borrowing some of the clouds he makes for your own recipes, which he almost immediately said yes to-…if it weren’t for the Great Sky God immediately rejecting the notion.

Wind Deity Cookie was stand off-ish at your first encounter, practically doing everything they could to ignore your presence. They didn’t have any hostile feelings to you, don’t get the wrong idea, they were just confused as to why you were here. A baker going out of their way to meet cookies? Did you have something you weren’t telling them?

After seeing how Stormbringer accepted you, which is almost uncharacteristic of her, Wind Deity would reluctantly accept you too. They admittedly liked your stories of baking cookies, and were curious to know how a baker’s process of making cookies differed from Stormbringer’s. Some of the cookies you mentioned and described sounded like some cookies Wind Deity saw before, which made them even more interested!

You were excited to see how comfortable Stormbringer Cookie and Wind Deity Cookie were together, which you totally teased Wind Deity about. They weren’t super happy when you did tease them, but Wind Deity let it slide as they knew Stormbringer was fine with the teasing. After all, Stormbringer would only tease you about some of your stories, which would make Wind Deity and you share a laugh!

Rain Deity Cookie is as welcoming as she is intrigued by you. It makes sense that a baker would meet deity cookies out of any others, but it was still a wonder as to why you would.

She thinks you’re quite incredible for what you do: making unique cookies isn’t easy at all. After all, she only contributes to one part of the process of making life powder, whereas you go through adding life powder to baking specialized cookies with several different recipes and ingredients! You think she’s even more incredible with her rain giving life powder to the earth, and she’s doing everything she can to hide her flushed face.

You both used your talents together as the cookies you baked would dance in the rain she created. It was a lovely spectacle that made you both want to create a whole show combining your abilities! Of course, it would have to be green-lit by Stormbringer first, but you enjoyed seeing how your creations interacted with the deities in a neat way!

[differenteagletragedy]

Baxter Ward Neighbor AU!

When Baxter moved into his apartment in Prism Vista, the space across the hall was occupied by an older man. He wasn't impolite, he was never rude, but he wasn't friendly either. They exchanged tight, perfunctory smiles with him in the hall, maybe a nod every once in a while -- and that was fine with him.

But then the old man moved out, in with a child of his, he'd heard. And you moved in.

And you were ... well, you were different.

Baxter had gotten used to keeping anyone and everyone in his life at arm's length, especially the people he had to interact with regularly, but for some reason, that simply was not good enough for you.

"Some people might think I'm a little annoying or whatever," you'd admitted to him one day when you showed up at his door with a plate of fresh baked cookies. "But I'm not trying to be, I'm just trying to be nice. It feels good to be nice, you know?"

He'd wanted to say a number of things as he accepted the gift. Things he would have said when he was younger, flirty little meaningless things to make you feel good and to make himself feel like he mattered. "You're not annoying, you're adorable," something like that.

But that was then, and grown-up, closed-off Baxter simply gave you a small smile and a plain, easy truth -- "I appreciate it very much."

No matter how little he gave of himself, you seemed to have no problem giving him more and more of you in return. Months went by, months filled with homemade dessert drop-offs, chatty elevator rides, the occasional exchange of a screwdriver. Neighborly things.

He became used to it, and then he grew fond of it. Not enough to inspire him to pursue things further, but enough that he started to feel a dull sort of ache, a pang of some sort of missing when he went too long without seeing your smile.

It wasn't until nearly a year after you'd moved in that he finally admitted to himself that maybe, possibly, he could let himself want more.

One Wednesday morning, he'd gotten himself ready for work, going through the old familiar motions. He made it out to the parking garage, operating on autopilot, until he saw you leaning against your car, tears in your eyes. It was the first time since he'd met you that he'd seen you upset, and he immediately felt the urge to make it better.

"Are you all right?" he asked you, slowly approaching you.

"No. It's my car, it won't start. It's ... I don't know, it's been making some dumb noise and now it won't do anything, and I'm going to be late for work, and then my boss --"

"I'll give you a ride."

The offer was out of his mouth before he knew it, but of course he meant it: if it would make you feel better, he'd do it. If it might make you smile again.

You shook your head, starting to refuse, but he unlocked his car, parked a couple of spaces down, and opened the passenger door with a flourish.

"Baxter ..." you said, hesitant to let him do this relatively easy thing for you for reasons he didn't understand.

But he wanted to, with a desperation he hadn't felt in years. And in realizing that, he felt something spring to life inside him. A kind of hope that he hadn't felt in years, a little feeling that maybe he could actually, truly get close to someone again. That maybe this time he could stay.

"Let's go," he said softly, a little more of a demand than a request.

If he had his way, he'd have started to crack you open right then. Get into your head, find all the things that make you tick, all the little details about where you came from and what you've done. Your hopes and fears and regrets, what little bits of nature and nurture had woven themselves together to make you so kind and good.

But for now, he reasoned, a neighborly favor would do.

[myokk]

remembering the snow

pairing: Imelda Reyes x Poppy Sweeting

word count: 3,2k

summary:

Imelda remembers the first time she saw snow.

Her parents always started the story telling her that she cried and cried and cried.

***

Or: a character study on Imelda and how she grew up because I love her & she doesn't get enough appreciation :)

cw: none, this is just a love letter to Imelda

a/n: or: this was the first oneshot I ever wrote, and it holds such a special place in my heart. I think it might be my favorite 🥹🫶

Imelda Reyes has never been one to do things by halves.

Her mother always talked about the circumstances of her birth with pride: Imelda came quickly as if she were eager to get out and see the world already, screaming even before she had fully left her mother's womb, determined to leave an indelible mark on the world.

The women in their village who had assisted the birth crossed themselves, chattering to each other in quick, soft, beautiful Spanish staccato about the baby who was already unlike any they had ever seen before. Strong and healthy and beautiful, her deep brown eyes already taking in her surroundings and watching them solemnly moments after her arrival.

Her father always talked about the circumstances of her childhood: running wild and free, flying before she could walk (a source of great pride), his little shadow who peppered him with endless questions about the world. He always brought her along to his work meetings much to everyone's delight; she was with him when he was offered the enviable position of Spanish Diplomat to the British Ministry of Magic.

At the age of five, they left the beautiful sleepy village where time hadn't seemed to exist. Imelda still dreams of long, hot, dusty days playing under the shade of orange trees, going to the market every two days with her mother draped in their finest silks, sleeping and lying around during the hottest part of the day, only leaving their house once the sun left its highest point and was about to disappear behind the mountains.

The older women in the village doted on her. If she thinks hard, she can recall their beautiful, wavering voices calling out to her as she raced past them: 'ten cuidado, cariño, te vas a mancar', 'ven aquí, cielo, te quiero ver la cara tan bonita', 'mira cómo se está creciendo, se nota que va a ser una belleza de mayor'...voices filled with comfort and love. She never knew anything different then.

She's their only child. Her mother was always brushing her hair and humming, trying to get her to sit still and listen to her endless fairy tales as the sun bore down on them; her father, treating Imelda like the son he had always wished for but accepting and loving her all the same. Sometimes, her mother would let her out of the house before the sun became too strong and they would fly around the mountains and be free free free.

Arriving to Edinburgh at the age of five, Imelda hadn't even realized she didn't speak the same language as the other children around her. As with everything else, she jumped in headfirst. Her mother always jokes that she became fluent in English the second she stepped foot on Scottish soil. To Imelda, it does seem that way. She can't ever remember not speaking in the soft Scottish burr, reminiscent of the soft Spanish she had left behind and still spoke at home.

As a child, she never had problems forging relationships with whoever was around her. She was brash and inquisitive and irresistible, taking charge wherever she went. The other children flocked around her, hanging on to her every word.

It changed, though, when her mother got her cough. It started out harmless enough, a slight cough and headache before bed each night. When her mother woke up every morning, she would be fine. But going to bed early changed to going to bed even earlier and earlier until it was time to accept what the three of them were steadfastly ignoring: she was getting worse.

Imelda was nine. She remembers her mother drying her tears with gentle, soft hands, caressing her cheeks and whispering to her that it would be fine. That she wasn't gone yet: they still had time.

'No pasa nada, mi amor. Siempre estaré contigo.'

At Hogwarts, things changed even more. She was a Slytherin and proud of it, but she never quite fit in with her classmates. She wasn't one of them, hadn't grown up with them, and they made sure she knew it. Gone were the days of running wild: she turned her single-minded determination to her studies and quidditch and found herself excelling at everything she put her mind to. It all came easily to her and she had no time for anyone who could distract her.

She wasn't a complete loner. She had her quidditch teammates, her partners in various classes, but nobody she hung out with outside of classes. She always studied alone, learned alone, trained alone.

(Of course, the picture she paints to her father in owls home is much different. He has enough on his mind - a daughter struggling to make friends is a non-issue as far as Imelda is concerned. And besides: she's fine.)

Imelda was quite content with the way things were working out for her. She would never admit if she was lonely or not, and enjoyed every part of her life. Until her fifth year, when everything began to change. Gone were her rigid schedules and studying alone and discipline. A new girl was sorted into Slytherin and Imelda found she didn't hate the girl's company. The two of them laugh together at night while they braid each others' hair, Imelda teaches her Spanish, and they have started to study together.

The new student drags her around Hogwarts and Imelda finds herself actually enjoying herself and enjoying spending time with the classmates she’s spent so many years ignoring.

This is when she meets Poppy Sweeting.

Well...Poppy swears that they met ages ago, during their first year when they were partnered together in Potions. Imelda has no recollection - that whole year was a blur - it was the year her mother succumbed to her illness - so she has to take Poppy's word for it.

She finds herself with friends for the first time in a long time. But, when the new student is running off with Sebastian doing Merlin-knows-what, things that Imelda definitely does not want to be a part of, she still finds herself seeking Poppy's company.

Poppy is sweet and fun and introverted in a way that Imelda finds familiar and comfortable: whereas Imelda turns to her studies and quidditch, Poppy often opts to spend time more time with beasts than humans. But there's something endearing about her earnestness and Imelda starts to find herself craving Poppy's calm company.

She always knows what to say when Imelda finds herself getting worked up over nothing.

On the train home for the winter holidays, as Imelda is striding down the long corridor in search of an empty cabin where she can read and concoct fail-proof quidditch tactics, Poppy calls her over to her carriage and asks Imelda to keep her company. She only needs to ask once. There's an unfamiliar fluttering in Imelda's stomach as she sits across from Poppy and the other girl beams at her but it's...well. It's not altogether unpleasant. They play exploding snap and exchange book recommendations and laugh together and...well, if Imelda's knee brushes against Poppy's occasionally or their fingers linger as they exchange essays to look over...

She can't be blamed, can she?

A letter from Poppy arrives over the break. At the sight of Poppy's small brown owl tapping the window with the letter in its beak, Imelda's heart starts racing and she runs over to the bird, grinning like a fool, but she pauses before opening it. Her fingers tremble as they hover over the wax seal.

Imelda's father is largely absent these days, a shadow of the man she had grown up with. She's noticed the difference over the summer too, of course, but the winter always feels different. More desolate; more harsh. They're nearing the four-year anniversary of her mother's death. It's impossible to ignore the fact that losing his wife has damaged his soul irreparably, and Imelda's seeing first-hand what being deeply in love can do to a person.

Maybe she'll put the letter aside and read it tomorrow.

Tomorrow bleeds into the next day turns into one week and before she can blink the bleak winter vacation with her father has ended and she's heading back to Hogwarts.

On the train, she walks past Poppy: the two of them make eye contact but Poppy flushes and looks out the window, tucking her honey-colored hair behind her ear and Imelda moves on to the next empty carriage. She pulls out some parchment and works on revising her Charms essay. It's for the best, anyway, she tells herself. For the best that she doesn't have any distractions. Their O.W.L.s are coming up and she's determined to get an O in every subject.

The month of January goes by in a flash. Between the insane quidditch schedule she's concocted for her team and the study sessions in the library, she keeps herself busy. The new fifth-year, her first real friend, starts to show concern for Imelda, gently trying to ask her what's going on as they braid each others' hair before bed.

Imelda doesn't want to bother her, though.

(She doesn't truly know what's the matter, anyways.)

She resolves to do a better job with keeping her emotions in check - her friend has enough on her plate, and Imelda doesn't want her to have to worry over something that's not even a problem in the first place.

She's fine.

Out of the corner of her eye in the classes she shares with Poppy, Imelda notices that she doesn't look as happy as she normally does. Her face is more pale and withdrawn; whenever Imelda's eyes flicker to her, her own gaze darts away.

With the beginning of February come a lot of blizzards, and they make Imelda remember the first time she saw snow.

Her parents always started the story telling her that she cried and cried and cried.

They had both run over to her, covering her with warm hugs and kisses, the tiny family huddled together in this foreign place where the people looked and spoke differently, where nothing was the same and she missed the old women who would give her mazapanes whenever she ran by, missed the tiny clouds of dust that would puff up as she ran and the hazy mountains in the distance and the hot, hot sun beating down while she played in the shade of the orange trees while her mother slept away the heat. Pulling her mittened hands off of her tear-stained face and telling her 'mira cariño, mira qué bonita es la nieve. Tócala, ya verás que no pasa nada...estamos aquí contigo...'

Her tears had soon dried and she was laughing and playing in the snow and she couldn't even remember what had made her so sad in the first place.

Imelda's sad now as she stares out the window.

Her mother isn't there anymore. She has no one to turn to in this self-imposed exile.

Four years ago today.

She's hidden herself away in an alcove, curled up, arms wrapped around her knees watching the snow swirling out the window. She canceled quidditch practice today due to the storm, much to everyone's surprise. Just last week, she had forced them to train in the freezing rain and today's snowfall is mild in comparison. But...today she doesn't have the energy. She's spent so much effort pretending that everything's fine when it's not and now she's sad and alone and confused.

She doesn't hear Poppy when she comes near.

The other girl crowds into Imelda's space, pressing against her in the alcove. The two face each other, and Poppy brings a gentle hand up to Imelda's face to brush away tears she hadn't even realized were falling.

"What -" Imelda starts saying, but a fresh sob chokes her and she can't. Poppy leans forward and wraps her arms around Imelda, pulling her into a close embrace. Imelda feels everything crumbling around her and she sobs into Poppy's shoulder - Poppy whispering reassurances and smoothing her hair, cradling Imelda as she cries and cries and cries.

They don't leave the alcove for another hour, almost staying out after curfew.

Imelda is subdued the next few days. The snow continues to fall until the whole castle looks like it's straight from one of the fairy tales her mother used to tell her as she brushed her hair. Imelda shows up for meals, shows up for classes, shows up in the study group, but she feels like she's just going through the motions.

She can tell her friend is getting worried, but Imelda can't confide in her. Her friend does small gestures anyways because she understands: saving Imelda a seat in class, asking her about quidditch, saving her favorite muffins for her at breakfast.

Maybe she talked to Sebastian about her worry because even he is being nicer than normal to Imelda, asking her if she wants to play wizarding chess with the two of them. Imelda doesn't really understand how or why they like playing the game so much - her friend is awful at it and Sebastian seems to enjoy the destruction and chaos more than actually strategizing. Even though Imelda hates the game - every move is painfully obvious and she can't understand how nobody else sees it like she does - maybe it would be nice to do something different.

Imelda freezes when they enter the Astronomy Tower to play: Poppy is there, waiting. For her. They haven't seen each other since she broke down humiliated and sobbing and she doesn't know what to do.

Sebastian looks between the two of them, brows furrowed, then leans down to their friend and whispers something in her ear. She nods and the two of them disappear, leaving Imelda and Poppy alone.

Poppy stands and Imelda can feel her heart start to hammer against her throat. Poppy walks forward slowly, only stopping when she's right in front of Imelda. When she speaks, her voice is high and sweet and Imelda realizes how much she missed her. "I-I'm sorry, I just didn't know how else I could talk to you. Will you come with me? I have something to show you."

Imelda nods mutely and Poppy takes her hand. They lace their fingers together and it's the first time - apart from a few days ago - that they have voluntarily touched each other. She feels Poppy's fingers tighten around hers and Imelda focuses on the feeling of soft knuckles under her thumb, but now...she's self-conscious for the first time about her quidditch-rough hands and maybe she should have listened to her friend when she tried to encourage Imelda to use some hand lotion.

Maybe Poppy will let go of her hand and leave in disgust.

But...Poppy doesn't do any of that. Every so often, she looks up at Imelda, smiling slightly. When they reach the Entrance Hall, she lets go of Imelda's hand and Imelda feels its loss with a pang.

Poppy opens the bag at her side and pulls out two huge yellow and black Hufflepuff scarves. As she's reaching up to wrap one around Imelda, she whispers: "sorry, I only have these. But yellow looks good on you."

Both of them flush and smile at each other and Imelda doesn't know how long they stand before Poppy grabs her hand again, making sure their fingers are laced, and then they are heading out.

Poppy looks more and more excited the closer they get to the Forbidden Forest, but Imelda's never set foot even remotely close to the forest, and she feels quite apprehensive at first. But, Poppy's excitement is exhilarating - Imelda can feel it rolling off of her in waves and despite herself, she begins to feel excited too. They still haven't spoken since leaving Hogwarts, but it's a comfortable silence. Imelda's glad for the scarf - their breath is puffing out in soft clouds as they breathe and it's quite cold - the freezing temperatures in Scottish winters are still something she's never quite gotten used to.

Their boots crunch through the snow-filled landscape - it's nearing dusk and the sky is turning a brilliant shade of orange and pink, but it gets obscured by the tree branches the further into the Forbidden Forest they venture, the golden light only showing in bursts now.

"Almost there," Poppy says breathlessly. She beams up at Imelda, whose breath catches at the sight, before turning back and pulling her faster and faster until they stop in a clearing. They've stopped in the middle, and Imelda looks around.

Here, they can actually see the sky and it is breathtaking in its beauty - the gnarled, naked trees around them twisting and reaching up as if they could try and grasp some of the beauty for themselves. The snow is perfectly smooth and untouched except for the footprints that the two of them have just left. Apart from that, the clearing is nondescript.

This is what Poppy had been so excited to show her?

Poppy gives no explanation for why she brought Imelda to the Forbidden Forest, but she's almost quivering in excitement - Imelda can feel the tension in the hand that's clutching hers tightly. The sun sets lower and lower, the two of them watching it as the colors around them start to fade and mute and then -

Poppy gasps in delight.

There -

A small, dancing, brilliant white light sparks to their left and disappears just as quickly.

"Look," Poppy whispers. Imelda glances over to her - she can barely make out her face in the dimming light, but Poppy seems to be glowing with happiness.

There - again -

More and more of the brilliant white lights appear, glowing and flickering on and off, and moving in almost a pattern, dancing around their heads. Imelda laughs as she watches the tiny creatures fly around them. It's magical and beautiful and -

"I found the snow sprite nest a few weeks ago, when the blizzards started, and I've been observing them since then. I...I wanted to show you and tell you about them the second I found out because I haven't stopped thinking about you but after...well, you know...I just wanted to cheer you up..."

Poppy trails off, looking uncertain when Imelda doesn't say anything in response.

She can't, even though she desperately wants to. Her mouth goes dry as she looks to the girl at her side, who has done all of this, for her.

Poppy looks impossibly lovely in the glow of the snow sprites, as they dance and spark around their heads in a beautiful waving pattern and Imelda doesn't even think as her hand goes to Poppy's cheek. Poppy stops rambling as she looks up into Imelda's eyes.

Then, before she can lose her nerve, Imelda leans forward and presses her lips to Poppy's. It's only the lightest of touches, but her heart is beating so quickly and Merlin, she can't believe she just did that. She quickly retreats, face flaming, but before she can get away Poppy reaches up to cup Imelda's cheeks with both hands and she pulls her forward, her mouth greedy, desperate, as they finally kiss.

When they finally pull away, breathing heavily as their foreheads rest against each other, Imelda can't help the huge smile that's threatening to split her face open. It mirrors the expression she sees on Poppy, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed and she is just so lovely that Imelda can't help but lean forward and capture her mouth again. Their lips mold to each other and it's the culmination of all of their stolen glances, touches, secret wishes.

Imelda Reyes has never been one to do things by halves, after all .

A HUGE thank you to @dom1re and @thingsmaygetalittlecrazy for reading this oneshot recently and leaving me such amazing comments on ao3😭♥️♥️♥️ they made me reread this oneshot & I remembered how much I love it🫶

[creepycranberry]

Big Black Car- 3

Rafe Cameron x Maybank reader

2

Warnings: slow burn, L*ke, topper is very much noncanon compliant (he’s like a mix of topper and Austin’s character in IDDI), alcohol, abuse, parental death, not proofread, kook/pogue bullshit, swearing, w*rd, let me know about anything else.

•••••••••

“Just let me get you a new one.” Topper insists and you groan.

“I don’t even swim, why do I need a swimsuit?” You argue, Tired of this conversation. Topper dragged you to a mall on the mainland after going through your wardrobe and determining that you have nothing suitable to wear to his parents wedding anniversary party.

“Because one day you might want to.” Topper says.

“I’ve gone this long without swimming, I’m sure I can make it through however long I’m staying with you.”

“Come on, I’ll teach you how to swim-“

“Topper.” You warn.

“No- no, come on. You can learn how, just for-for emergency purposes.”

“Emergency purposes.” You scoff, skimming through racks of clothing, “this one?”

“Hate the color.” He responds and you look at the dress once more and nod, “just let me get you the swimsuit and if you use it, you use it. No harm no foul, right?””

You exhale through your nose and give him a pointed look. He gives you an exaggerated pout and you concede.

“Fine.”

He pumps his fist in the air like his team just won a football game. You hold up another dress, it’s dark blue with ribbony straps, it was classic, simple.

“That one.” Topper basically decides for you, snatching it out of your hands when you go to look at the price tag.

He pays and drags you into a swimwear store, forcing you to go through the selection of bathing suits until you find a simple black two piece with enough coverage that you were confident your tits wouldn’t fall out of it.

Topper again took it from you and once again paid before you could even look at the price tag.

You liked being around him more. You haven’t really ever had an older sibling or anyone to protect you like one. JJ tried for a while but you both when to different schools and therefore your social problems felt separate. You didn’t want him to ever see you as weak. Topper was the closest thing you had to a true protector since your father died. He was your closest relationship aside from the one you had with your brother. You and JJ didn’t need to be around each other all of the time, you liked different things and people and so your lives were very separate but that didn’t make you any less close.

Topper just happened to be able to be there when you needed him and that resulted in this relationship that was very close and comfortable.

Topper had always had Rafe though. Rafe was his best friend. They knew each other in the way boys knew each other and that was that, they had an unspoken love for each other even though you would never hear them say that they loved each other.

For years Topper tried to tell you that Rafe wasn’t as bad or as rude as he came off, you obviously never believed him because why would you. Rafe had never given you any reason to believe he was anything more than he seemed.

He was an entitled prick who couldn’t care less about anyone else. He was the picture of first world problems and the apathy of the upper class.

But you found yourself second guessing that depiction of him more and more.

A few days after going shopping with Topper he’s finally managed to convince you to get into the pool so he can at least attempt to teach you how to swim. He had just managed to get you to step off of the stairs when Rafe walks through the garden gate into the backyard.

“No. I’m done, did enough for the day.” You say, moving back towards the stairs. Topper lunges after you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you as you hit his arm repeatedly.

“You’re doing this.” Topper says, setting you down in the water so your feet touch the ground. The water is to your shoulders and you stare at Topper with a look that can only be described as pitiful wet kitten after a bath.

“No. Not with him here.” You argue, finally acknowledging Rafes presence.

“What is she not doing with me here?” Rafe asks and Topper sighs deeply, his hands holding onto the sides of your arms in case you attempt to escape again.

“She doesn’t-“

“Topper!” You exclaim but he puts a hand over your mouth.

“She doesn’t know how to swim so I’m trying to teach her.” Topper tells him. He shrieks when you bite down hard on his hand and dart away from him, aiming for the stairs.

You’re able to get up onto dry ground for one glorious second before strong arms are effortlessly catching you.

“Rafe! Put me down!”

He goes down the steps in the pool and sets you down in the shallow end, guarding the stairs. You expect him to make some smart remark about you not being able to swim when you live on in island, but instead he looks at you in total seriousness, his face solemn, “you need to know how to swim.”

“I’ve gotten this far-“

“Yeah, and you’re lucky you have.” He snaps, his voice raising and you flinch. You can feel your pulse quicken.

“I don’t need to hear anything about luck from you.” You shoot back and he rolls his eyes.

“Walk to Topper.” Rafe commands and you scoff.

“I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Walk to Topper and do things his way, or stay over here and we’ll do things my way.” He shrugs and you frown at him.

“I don’t need to do either, I can float just fine.”

“Yeah well, you live on an island, one bad storm and floating just fine will end up with you literally dead in the water.” Rafe retorts, his face morphing into surprise when your frown grows deeper and your hands start to shake.

You’re either about to punch him in the face or cry, and either outcome makes him incredibly wary. He automatically feels guilty when your eyes well up with tears and you fold your arms in front of yourself. You suddenly look so much smaller to him.

Topper stands still, watching your interaction unfold, prepared to either get the first aid kit or make Rafe go home.

“I don’t mean to be extreme or anything, I just don’t want you to end up hurt or worse because no one taught you how to swim.” Rafe says, surprising both you and Topper with his softness. It’s limited to his voice, his eyes are unreadable and his body language is stiff.

“Someone did teach me to swim.” You say resentfully, your voice sounds like you’re going to cry and for some reason that makes something in Rafes chest go tight, “I think I’m done for the day actually, I uh, I’m pretty tired.”

You walk past Rafe to get to the pool steps and this time he doesn’t stop you. Topper tries to grab your hand and you move at the last second. When he looks back to Rafe, he has his eyes trained on the pool in front of him, like you’re still standing there.

“You didn’t know, man-”

Before he can finish his sentence Rafe is halfway to the garden gate.

•••

Topper showers loudly. He hums in the shower, opens and closes the door loudly, he knocks over shampoo bottles like a bumbling idiot. You wake up most mornings to him humming repetitively or slamming the shower door.

You turn over in bed and face your door. The dress you had gotten for the anniversary party is hung up on it, still in its garment bag. It hadn’t been there when you went to sleep. Topper probably put it there to remind you it was today and that you had to get out of bed at some point.

You left the house for work and that was it. You didn’t want to speak to topper, and you definitely didn’t want to run into Rafe.

You were embarrassed by how you reacted. You hated that it happened so long ago and it could still affect you like this. You felt weak and in front of Topper is one thing but in front of Rafe?

You felt like seeing him again could kill you.

For the first time in days Topper dared to enter your room, he had something on his hands and ignored the face you made at him as he got closer.

“I know I fucked up, I get it, but your skin looks like a croissant.” He starts, kneeling onto the bed and holding his hands in front of your face as you tried to push him away, you couldn’t help but laugh a little, “I washed my hands, I promise.”

He’s laughing as he tries to wrestle the moisturizer onto your skin, “this is supposed to be relaxing!” He gasps and you lightly kick him in the side and he makes an odd sound before tumbling off the bed. You sit up to check on him and you can’t help but have a smile on your face, “I’m sorry. I mean it. I shouldn’t have pushed you, especially once Rafe got there I just- I want you to be safe.”

You know he’s being sincere. You don’t want to let him off the hook so easily but you can’t help it, he’s your best friend.

“Just- just no more pushing. Especially not around Rafe. I never want him seeing me cry ever again.”

“If I have to blind him I will.” Topper says, completely straight faced. You smile at him and reach to grab his wrists, pushing them into his face and rubbing your moisturizer into his skin, “okay, that’s fair.” He says before sticking his tongue out, “ith on my tongue”

He gags for a few minutes and you laugh as he runs to the bathroom to rinse his mouth out.

A few hours later you're in the passenger seat of this jeep, fiddling with the pleats on the fabric of your dress and staring out the window.

You had never really gone to the country club, you didn’t really have any reason to. Your dad used to take you when you were smaller, he would be there to see friends of his or do a business thing and you would be attached to his hip, listening quietly.

It didn’t look much different than you remembered.

Almost immediately upon arrival you and Topper are greeted by at least fifty people who know Topper's parents. When asked for your name you panic and Topper swoops in, he introduces you to various different people. But he tells them your fathers last name. Not yours.

Eventually you make it away from the crowd and find your names sat next to each other on place cards on the table. You both sit there and talk, pointedly avoiding making eye contact with anyone else so you don’t end up having to make any more small talk.

Topper looks at his phone periodically, deflecting when you ask what he’s doing. Eventually he gets up to go get drinks and you look at your phone for the first time since arriving.

JJ: have you seen Luke lately?

You furrow your eyebrows and you’re about to respond and tell him that you didn’t know where Luke was and that you didn’t really give a shit if he was dead or alive but Topper comes back and sits down.

“That was qui- Rafe.” Sitting in front of you is not Topper, Rafe sets a glass down in front of you and you eye it warily.

“It’s ginger ale, peaches.” Rafe assures you and you nod, taking a sip, “how are you?”

“Fine, thanks.” You respond and Rafe stares into the space between the two of you.

“I didn’t me-“

“Don’t. I’m not mad at you, don’t apologize cause we’ll both hate it.”

Rafe presses his lips together and takes a sip of his drink, “if you aren’t mad then why won’t you talk to me? Or look me in the eye?”

You make eye contact with him for the first time since he sat down. It’s almost a challenge, “keep looking me in the eyes and I won’t ask you any questions you don’t want to answer” And the strange thing is that you don’t want to look away. You want to sink into his eyes and never have to hear another voice again.

“You’re pretty.” He smiles, breaking eye contact so fast it almost startles you, “I like your dress.”

You blink at him for a moment, the words taking a minute to find their way to your brain, “oh uh, thank you, I like it too. You look…”

“Handsome?” He deadpans and you roll your eyes.

“Like less of an asshole than you are.” You smile and he returns it. You like how his eyes crinkle when he smiles. It makes them look shinier.

“I’ll take what I can get.” He shrugs, downing the last of his drink, “I understand why you reacted that way.”

The abrupt change from easy going conversation has you avoiding eye contact with him again, “do you?”

“Uh, yeah. I uh, we’re in similar boats in the parent department.” He clarifies, giving you a knowing look that gives way to more than you thought to know.

“Oh.” You mutter, thumb sliding across the condensation on the side of your glass, “it really is okay, I was mad I was just-“

“Embarrassed?”

“I guess. Um, I mean crying in front of Topper is one thing but I don’t think I’ll ever know you well enough t-“

“I understand. I just um, I didn’t mean to upset you or anything I don’t uh, I don’t tend to think before I do… anything.” He tells you, eyes squinting like he’s having to put in work to admit he was in the wrong.

“Really? You seem pretty purposeful to me.” You retort and he rolls his eyes, meeting yours for more than just a fleeting moment and suddenly you’re sinking into them again.

“You think so?” He smirks.

Before you can come up with some smart come back a hand is on your shoulder and you look up to see Toppers mother smiling at you, “honey, i need you to come out front we’ve got a-“

“I said I wanna see my daughter!” A slurred voice cuts through the music and chatter of the party.

You stand so quickly that your chair falls over as you try and locate the voice. You find him outside of the door yelling at the person in charge of the guest list.

“Luke.” Your stern voice cuts through his drunken tirade and he looks up.

“Hey, sweet pea! I was just trying to explain to this-” he’s interrupted by your hand gripping his arm and dragging him away from the party

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t find you, and I heard this was going on and that boy you’re always hanging out with was gonna be here, I connected the dots.” He shrugs.

“Leave.” You order.

“Oh, come on. You don’t mean that.”

“I do, get the hell away from here and away from me or so help me god I will-”

“You’ll what?” He laughs and his drunken affection turns right back to loathing, “what’s your prissy ass gonna do to me? I ain’t scared of you. Sitting up there in that fancy club in your fancy dress with the handsome boys in well tailored suits? Give me a break. You’ve gone full fucking kook. You didn’t even scare me before you started traipsing around with those boys. You think you scare me now?” He laughs.

“Those boys have nothing to do with any of this.”

“You think I should warn them?” He starts, stumbling slightly and leaning on a tree for support, “think I should warn those boys that you’re a whore just like your mother? That they shouldn’t hope for any long term anything with you cause you’re not worth th-”

You punch him in the face with speed you didn’t know you were capable of. He holds his nose as blood slowly starts to seep through the cracks of his fingers.

“You’re no better than her Luke. In fact you’re worse. You’re an abusive alcoholic hick who never amounted to anything and who couldn’t even care for his own children. I’m not scared of you either.”

He slaps you across the face and you can feel the blood on your cheek as the wind hits it and makes it feel cool. You barely have time to respond before Luke tries for another but the hit never lands. Instead Topper is stood in front of you, holding Luke’s wrist.

“Mr. Maybank, I think it’s time for you to go home.” Toppers mothers voice rings out behind you.

“And why should I listen to you?” Luke steps forward, wobbling slightly.

“Hey kids, how about the two of you go inside and grab something to eat, they should start serving the cake soon.”

Topper guides you back up the hill. Rafe is standing behind Mrs. Thornton, he stands beside two security guards, his gaze meeting yours for a fleeting moment before you’re quickly whisked in the direction of the country club restrooms by Topper.

He doesn’t seem to care that he’s in the ladies room as you sit on the counter. He’s gently wipes the blood off your cheek, his voice quiet as he tells you to move your head to the side so he can see it better.

“That was one hell of a hit.” He says and you shake your head.

“Stung like a bitch.”

“No I meant the punch you threw at him.” Topper clarifies and you nod.

“I hope I broke his nose.” You sigh.

“Me too, kid.”

[doodler16]

In response to your post about recasting the voice actors for Hazbin, I came to a horrifying conclusion...

The voice cast choices were done poorly.

Now it's no secret that Vivzie just wants to rub elbows with famous musical stars that could play a part in why she chose specifically these people instead of others that would be WAY cheaper in comparison.

And there's also the fact that the voice acting itself is... okay at best but VERY out of place at worst.

Erika sounds a bit too mature for a character like Charlie.

Stephanie is too flat and emotionless as Vaggie.

Vivzie only hired Blake because he sounded the closest to Micheal when doing Angel.

As much as I love Keith David, he's way too smooth and a bit soft spoken for someone as rough as Husk if that makes sense.

And Kimiko Glenn as Niffty... as this point I'm just tired of hearing her everywhere.

Like, take Megamind for example, they didn't hire people to be recognizable names, the voice actors really gave it their all in that movie and really brought the characters to life.

Or Walt Dohrn as Rumpelstiltskin in Shrek Forever After, he was originally a placeholder until the crew could find someone to replace it with. But they liked his voice so much that they decided to keep him as the voice. A decision I think worked out well in the end.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IaDQdo8x1I

It's definitely more effort than Vivzie ever did in choosing voice actors.

I remember being so shocked that the original VAs for Hazbin Hotel pilot got replaced because I couldn’t tell a difference (except for Keith David, he was suck out like a sore thumb) between the broadway performers and the pilot VAs until I watched a compare and contrast video.

Then later I realized it was all Vivziepop doing and not Amazon or A24. And she never corrected it, from what I saw Vivziepop was all “trust me guys, give them a chance, etc.” Amazon and A24 got all the blame.

I still like the broadway performers’ performance, they did the best they could with what they given with it. I will admit Stephanie as Vaggie, while she does an amazing job matching the original pilot voice. She sounds so bored at times, it’s like she was forced to tag along. Otherwise, I adjusted pretty easily and ate up their performance.

My main problem is Vivziepop, herself. She has this repeated pattern of wanting celebrities or broadway performers on both Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss that it gets stale real quick. I think that’s what makes the pilot so magical. It felt homemade and reminded of a bunch of high school/college friends who wanted to do something ambitious and successful succeeded.

All these VAs for the pilot were people, we have never heard of for the most part. Also what’s the point of replacing the original cast if you going want the broadway performers to mimic their voices? If she wants her broadway performers that’s fine I guess but Vivziepop has to remember she has a budget.

All the way Hazbin Hotel’s finale, it was so obvious that they couldn’t get Velvette’s voice actress to sing with Valentino and Vox so had to animate her and pretend she was “part of the group.”

[angelic-writer]

Mavis made his way through the sea of people to get to his locker. No one spoke to him. No one paid any attention to him. He didn’t mind this, actually. It allowed him to pass through undetected like a ninja. It was a perk of being one of the quiet kids. Although, sometimes, he wished he had more than just four people to talk to.

He spotted Carter through the crowd and gave him a quick “Hey!”. He waved back in response, smiling at him.

Compared to Mavis' drab appearance, looking like he just got out of bed, Carter’s hair was combed back in a neat fashion, his eyes sparkling like he just got a good night’s sleep. His attire consisted of a black shirt, blue jeans and a red flannel jacket. He was a bit of an anomaly at school. Most girls talked to him, but he had never gone out on a date with them. He was popular, but he was always seen talking with Mavis. People had asked him to hang out with people of his social status, but he always turned it down. “I don’t want to leave my friend alone, you know?”

Carter grew concerned when he saw that Mavis' eyes were droopy. “You okay?”

“Oh yeah. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” He answered, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh… Did you…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dream about it again?”

Mavis let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah. I thought I got past that. I thought it had gone away in middle school.”

“Listen, if you need to talk, I can come over and we can. Or if you don’t want to, we can just talk about whatever. I’m fine with anything.”

Mavis smiled. Whenever he was around, his mood would improve a bit. They had both been friends since they were kids and they bonded over their family struggles. With Mavis' family, his parent’s feuds that constantly aggravated him. With Carter’s family, his mother having medical problems. He remembered the day of a particularly nasty fight where Mavis' mom and dad got into a screaming match. He had gone to Carter's house, crying, wondering if his parents didn’t love him anymore. “Is it my fault?” He asked him in tears. “Is it my fault mommy and daddy are constantly arguing? Weren't they supposed to love each other?"

Carter was quick to rescue him, offering a shoulder for him to cry on, reassuring him that his parents still love him. For the rest of the day, they played some of his favorite video games, played hide and seek outside with Mavis hiding in the shed, and even let him play with some of his action figures. Even though he felt uncomfortable about barging into his house unannounced, the fact that his friend was there for him in his time of need made it all worth it.

Mavis and Carter both got their textbooks out of their respective lockers and were about to walk to their classes when they heard a familiar voice.

“Hey guys! You lookin’ pretty snazzy today!”

They both turned to look at the source and their smiles widened. There they are. Tyler Lechner and Gavin Ozpin. They were both seen as the punk kids in school, always getting into trouble with school faculty. That was definitely why Charlie hung out with them. Tyler had a hoodie that had the logo of a rock band on it while Gavin was all decked out in his scene kid gear - ripped, black jeans and a ripped, denim jacket. He had multiple piercings in his ears and one of his eyebrows had a shaven mark on one side. He even got himself a tongue piercing which Mavis couldn’t help but cringe at. He remembered how he reacted the first time he saw Gavin's new look.

“Whoa! Dude, you look... Different. What'd you do?” He had asked him on their first day of sophomore year.

“Well, Charlie and Ty took me to a few places. We thought it would, y’know, change our status quo a bit.” He fluffed up his hair. “Gave me some curls too.”

“What status quo?” Carter asked.

“Uhhh….”

Tyler stepped in. “He just wanted to look different this year.”

“So, spent another boring night without internet?” Gavin asked, leaning against the lockers.

“Actually, it’s pretty beneficial. It allowed me to catch up on some reading.” Carter said.

“Pfft! Who has time to read anyway? There could be so many other things we could be doing. So many TV shows we could be watching. But thanks to the mayor’s bone-headed decision, our rights are slowly being taken away!”

“Gavin, you know there’s a reason behind the curfew and electronics rule.” Tyler said.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s because they’re trying to keep us safe from the mimics. But I mean, they didn’t have to say that we can’t use our cell phones after 9, right?” He waggled his cell phone. “I mean, I doubt someone’s face could appear on something like this and kill you.”

"I mean, it could be possible considering what they can do."

“Well, it’s best to be safe and follow the rules. You don’t want to get fined again, do you, Gav?” Mavis asked.

“No…”

“Good.”

They changed the conversation to something more suited for the morning. The point Gavin made about the cell phone restriction made Mavis think… There hadn’t been any reports of mimics coming through phones as of yet. Now that he thought about it, there wasn’t really a good reason for this rule. Maybe the mayor caved in after several paranoid calls from parents. Something about their children being influenced by Satan or the mimics. Business as usual in Crestwood county.

Other than that, life resumed as usual for the teens. Tyler and Gavin were talking about who knows what while him and Carter started quizzing each other to prepare for Mr. Bentley’s test.

"Hey Tyler? Where's Charlie?" Gavin asked.

"She's probably hanging out with her gal-pals. She always want to keep up the bad girl attitude." Tyler responded.

"Hmm."

Although he said that, they already knew who Charlie was.

Project Mimicry (Vol 1) - Chapter 1

"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the Earth." - Genesis 1:1

1983

"This is a test. This station is conducting a test of the Emergency Broadcasting System. This is only a test."

A long, screeching noise blared from the old TV. The Markson family had a different program on when they announced the test. It was some cowboy show their dad loved so much. For eleven year old Jade, it made her stomach churn. It was an odd sound, different from the sounds of horses and gunfire that came from the living room while they were doing family worship. It made her want to jump into her mother's arms and pray to Jehovah for the noise to stop.

Her mom, dad and brother were silent as the attention signal droned on. After a minute, it stopped.

"This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. The broadcasters of your area in voluntary cooperation with federal, state and local authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. If this had been an actual emergency, the attention signal you have just heard would have been filed by official information, news or instructions. This station serves the northern Alabama area. This concludes this test of the emergency broadcast system."

Jade fiddled with the pages of her book, trying to think of the right words to say. Her brother, Caleb had resumed work on his drawing, seeming to not care about anything. Her mother let out a small sigh. "I swear, can they not scare the kids like that?"

"Mom..." Jade quietly said. "Why do they send out something like this? What if it hadn't been a test? Are... Are we gonna die?"

Opal got up from her chair and pulled her into her arms. "Oh sweetie, we're not gonna die. Everything's gonna be okay. This whole thing will blow over in no time."

"Well Jade," Opal's husband, Simon, chimed in. "They played the test on our TV because they want to inform us on what's happening. The world is at a very turbulent time at the moment so they are doing their best to keep us informed. If we were actually under attack, we would've been hiding in the basement." He let out a small chuckle.

"Well, what can we do to make it better?" Jade asked.

"Pray to Jehovah, of course. Our safety is his priority and if we pray to him, he'll protect us."

Jade smiled and snuggled into her mother. Jehovah is the only thing she knew. She may not be like the other "worldly" kids, but she didn't need all those material goods. She didn't need to see the latest movie or buy the newest toys. As long as she had her family and Jehovah, she can get through anything.

Caleb let out a soft coo.

"Oh, we didn't forget about you!" Simon lifted him out of his baby chair and gently rocked him. The whole family began to giggle.

This was their life. This was their routine. Jade was determined to be a good older sister to Caleb. And soon, he will be baptized.

-------

December 24th, 1983

"This is an important message from the Crestwood police department. This is not a test. I repeat, this is not a test. The Crestwood police department has issued a Shelter-in-place Warning for the county of Crestwood until further notice. Reports of unknown figures have been confirmed by law enforcement and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. For your safety, until 5 PM to 6 AM, stay home, lock all doors and windows and, in the event of a break-in, have access to a loaded weapon at all times. Do not call 911 unless you need to report an emergency. The Crestwood police department and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders thanks you for your cooperation.

Stay tuned for a message from the representative of the Department of Babylonian Crusaders."

"Hello. My name is Dr. Lloyd Evans from the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. We have been receiving reports of unknown organisms that we've decided to call mimics. You may have already gotten the alert from the EBS about this phenomenon, but we're here to tell you about what those mimic types are and what you can do to protect yourself.

The first type are the defensive mimics. They are a sub group of mimics that take on the role of a protector when they find a human. Some pose as aggressive mimics to ward off other humans or they deceive humans they perceive as harmful with their harmless look and kill them. Think of it as a predator camouflaging itself in order for them to eat their prey.

There are three types of defensive mimics. There are Batesian, Mullerian and Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics.

Batesian mimics are harmless. They pose as a harmful mimic to ward off anyone they tries to hurt them or their human.

Mullerian mimics are two or more mimics that advertise themselves as harmful to ward off predators. These mimics often work in groups of two or three.

Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics take the form of a less harmful mimic to deceive the predator and kill them.

These ones can be considered safe, but you should still be wary of them. Aggressive mimics are the ones you need to watch out for. Now, aggressive mimics are the type of mimic that pose as humans to kill them. These types use mind games to toy with their victims. If they haven't committed suicide, the mimic will finish the job.

Predators are a mimic group where they take the form of a loved one, deceive them into thinking they are the real person and then use psychological manipulation. Those are the most dangerous types of mimics and we strongly advise to avoid them at all costs.

Parasites are [REDACTED DUE TO SIGNAL GLITCH]

Now, here's what you can do to keep yourself safe. Stay in your homes after 6 PM, lock all windows and doors and keep a loaded weapon with you at all times. In the event of a mimic attack, follow the S.A.F.E. principle.

S - Secure yourself in a room.

A - Access the situation. Learn how the mimic operates.

F - Fire your weapon. If the mimic attacks, do not hesitate. It can mean life or death.

E - If possible, escape. Do not let them win.

We hope this message keeps you safe. We're very sorry for the interruption and we hope you have a Merry Christmas!"

Though this message was broadcasted to most TVs, some of them reported the S part saying something different. According to reports, it said "Surrender yourself to the Lord."

--------

1987

The young man's back was pressed up against the wall. The shotgun he had in his hands had one shell left. The creature that was at his door kept calling out to him in a mockery of his wife's voice.

"Ralphie... Please let me in... I'm sorry for sca-a-a-aring you back there. You know how I am."

His grip tightened. That wasn't her. That wasn't his wife. She was dead. And now, he was going to die too. His eyes started to fill with tears.

Marla... I'm so sorry... I couldn't protect you... I couldn't save you from these things.

The image of his wife sprawled out on the kitchen floor flashed in his mind. Her neck that was gushing blood... He swallowed, trying to hold back his vomit. They had followed the rules. They had done everything the broadcast said. What did they do wrong? They had to have done something wrong for something like this to happen.

He gritted his teeth. Pondering over this won't help him now. Remember the S.A.F.E. principle, Ralph. Remember.

He secured himself in his bedroom, grabbing his shotgun so he could protect himself. He analyzed the situation. The creature, the mimic, was trying to use his wife's voice to lure him out, using his nickname. Ralphie was what she would call him when he came home from work. The way she said it made his heart soar. However, when it said his nickname, it felt like nails on a chalkboard.

The high school sweethearts had moved into the rural Alabama town after they had gotten married in New York. They thought getting away from the bustling city life would help them. They were in the talks of starting a family when the broadcast came on, talking about reports of mimics.

"Talk about bad timing. On Christmas too." Marla had said while bringing out the cookies and milk. "Let's hope Santa gets there okay."

"I hope so too. But hey, look on the bright side. This lockdown will end at 6 AM tomorrow. We've still got time to celebrate, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, anything's fun with you." She gave him a light peck on the cheek.

A low sob escaped him. There was so much they wanted to do together. So many things they had planned. Their entire life... They were now gone.

Oh Marla... Why did they have to take you? What did we do?

God, please... Please help me.

He wiped his face. No, crying and pleading to some higher being isn't gonna solve anything. I have to survive. I have to live on for Marla! If I can get out of here, I could alert the police.

With a sense of courage taking over, he pointed his shotgun at the door. The mimic had begun to claw at the door, no doubt leaving scratch marks in the wood. "Ralphie... Please... Let me in. It's so cold. My neck hurts. Help..."

"Shut up... You're not her..."

The doorknob rattled.

"You're not her. You're not her! You're not her!!"

There was a sudden loud banging making him jump. "Ralph, open the goddamn door! You'd really leave me out here with these things?! How could you?!" The thing screeched.

"You're! Not! Her! Leave me alone!! You killed her, you monster!! You're not- You're not her!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face. "Just try and get me! I dare you! I'll fucking shoot you if you try anything!"

"Ralph..." His 'wife' had begun to cry. Normally, it would cause him to go over and hug her, but he will not be swayed. What it was doing, it was disgusting. It's desecrating his wife's memory, his image, his everything. The nerve of the creature...

The door flew open, allowing Ralph to see the monster. Though it was hard to see through the darkness, what he could see made him freeze.

Its form was tall and lanky, its arms and legs stretched out to an almost inhuman degree. What little hair it had on its head was beginning to fall off. Its skin was beginning to sag. Ralph could swear he was beginning to see bones. The mimic looked at him with empty eyes yet it pierced his soul with an intense glare. It opened its mouth to speak, but all that came out were rasps and gargles.

Ralph began to shake, his aim wavering as he stared at... He didn't even know what he was seeing. It was human, but at the same time, it was not. It looked like his wife, but it was like looking at a decomposing carcass. The smell... It smelled like rotten eggs left out on the hot sidewalk. Bile threatened to come up his throat, but he held it in.

One shot. He had to make it count. If it failed...

The creature began to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that made you cringe. It was an ear-piercing, gurgling laugh that was like if you tried to imitate a toy clown on its last legs.

Ralph pressed his finger on the trigger. Taking a deep breath, he screamed out.

"I will not let you kill me!!"

The gun went off.

--------

2017

The group of kids stared at the small house as their two older brothers talked to the movers. The smallest one of the bunch hugged her teddy bear. Though leaving their home state of Florida didn't seem like a huge deal at first, Catherine still had her doubts. Sure, they were free from all the hurricanes, but they still had friends there. They still had people they could talk to.

But now, she and her brothers moved to a new town. There was no one she knew there. And there was... an abundance of churches. Lots and lots of churches.

@chibisrpblog

[firstelevens]

22 for sambucky? :)

22. things you said after it was over

It would be nice, Sam decides, if the people around him could acknowledge, just one time, that he's a goddamn professional.

Sure, they're willing to trust his tactical assessments and follow his plans in the field, and there's plenty of mentoring opportunities where they actively seek out his advice, but apparently that doesn't mean shit. Apparently, at the end of the day, Sam's team--and a number of people who aren't on Sam's team, which is kind of the problem--is convinced that he'll handle any given awkward situation with all the grace and professionalism of a thirteen-year-old.

Nobody has said as much, of course, but he can feel all of their eyes on him, their interest barely disguised as they watch him from across the jet. Whatever world-ending threat it is that demands the presence of both Team Cap and the Thunderbolts, it's been overshadowed by the mere act of Sam walking across the jet to sit beside his ex.

Bucky, at least, doesn't give him anything more than a glance of acknowledgment as Sam takes a seat on the bench. There's about a foot of space between them, and Sam is abruptly reminded of the time when there used to be no space there at all, when the furthest that either of them could bear to be was still near enough to orbit the other.

"Torres still thinks I'm the one who broke up with you and you're covering for me," Bucky says, by way of greeting. His jaw is tight, so different from the sweet smile he used to send Sam's way when he was about to either be very sweet or a complete nuisance. "You might want to refresh your team on intel gathering."

Sam snorts, but he doesn't feel particularly like laughing. "If Torres can't believe the truth when he hears it, we've got much bigger problems than how he thinks our relationship ended."

All he gets in response is a grunt, Bucky's eyes focusing back on the paperback in his hands.

"I'm not here to talk about Torres, anyway," says Sam.

"No?" asks Bucky, flat. "And I was so sure you were here to braid my hair and tell me that he finally asked you out."

Sam, a goddamn professional, ignores the jibe. "I'm here because AJ's twelfth birthday is next week, and Sarah says you still haven't RSVP-ed."

"What do you mean?" asks Bucky. "I told her weeks ago I couldn't make it."

"Yeah, that was the wrong answer," says Sam, crossing his arms. "It's AJ's birthday. Everyone he loves is going to be there. You're not skipping it."

Bucky's eyes narrow in irritation, and although it's directed at Sam, he still feels a rush of relief that it's no longer the closed-off expression he was getting earlier. "Is that an order, Cap?" he sneers. "You know I don't answer to you anymore, right?"

"You never answered to me to start with," snaps Sam. "And it's not an order; it's an invitation."

"I know I'm getting up there in years, so maybe my memory's going, but invitations are usually requests, aren't they?" asks Bucky. "There's not generally a right answer."

"Fine. It's not an invitation. It's a reminder," he says. "AJ loves you and you love him. He wants you at his party, and you wouldn't break his heart by missing it."

Bucky scowls, crossing his arms. "You sound very sure of yourself."

"Oh, I am," Sam says. "I already worked it out with Sarah and everything."

He can see Bucky trying not to take the bait, but after a long moment, Bucky's frown gets deeper as he asks, "Worked what out with Sarah?"

"AJ and I are going on a trip before his birthday to celebrate, just the two of us," says Sam. "The day of the party, I'll be on call, so I won't be there. For whatever it's worth."

But naturally, Bucky can't let anything be easy, so he gets all huffy. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Sam. Why would you be on call during AJ's birthday party?"

Sam mirrors Bucky's scowl. He hasn't missed these arguments. "So we can fix the stupidest thing I've ever heard, which is you telling Sarah that AJ's favorite person can't come to his birthday party because it would be 'uncomfortable' for one person who's not even that relevant to the party."

"It's AJ's birthday," says Bucky. "His uncle should be there."

"And he will be," says Sam, with his fiercest glare. "Right?"

He watches realization color Bucky's face, slowly melting into wonder.

"Oh," says Bucky, softly. The look on his face, all tender, heartbreaking awe, triggers Sam's muscle memory so fast that his hands are reaching out to hold Bucky almost before he realizes that it's happening. He snatches them back as soon as he clocks it, but Bucky is clearly too caught up to notice either way.

"Yeah, oh," Sam says, trying for the even tone he'd used earlier. "So you'll be there?"

Bucky nods shakily, his eyes still wide. They look a little glossy, maybe, but Sam can't fault him for that.

"I'll be there," he whispers. "Thank you, Sam."

"Of course," says Sam, pushing off the bench seat. He clears his throat. "Be safe out there."

"You, too," is the immediate response. There's a drawing-in of breath, like maybe Bucky has something more to say, but nothing else follows, and eventually, Sam is out of reasons to stay. It's hard to pull himself out of Bucky's orbit all the same.

[wlfhardinc]

@akhillaous This is in response to your comment because it’s too long to say it in a reply. Plus this will explain my post for everyone else

Ok this is going to be long. I’m not great at explaining so this won’t be coherent plus this would have been way easier if I had visuals but alas The song of Achilles is a book so I’ll just have to try. In season 1 I think Jayce has more similarities with Achilles and Viktor has more similarities with Patroclus. Achilles and Patroclus were very innocent in their beliefs and whatnot in the beginning of the book. Jayce and V too in season 1. However that’s when Thetis/Mel come in. Yes I know this is kinda weird- I don’t want to compare Mel to Achilles’s mom either but hear me out. Mel sort of manipulated Jayce to do what he did for her benefits . Thetis did the same to Achilles to get what she wanted. Anyway, when Achilles and Patroclus end up going to Troy to fight, it all begins fine. Achilles protects Patroclus as much as possible because Patroclus has no fighters genes whatsoever. Jayce was also kind of protective to Viktor in some ways. My point is everything begins well. Both ships have the same principles. Achilles vows to not kill Hector (because of the prophecy that if he does, he will die) which is what Patroclus also wants, Jayce wants to make the world a better place which aligns with Viktor’s ideology. It is only later on when Achilles starts to get too prideful with all of the newfound fame as aristos aichon (best of all the Greeks) He makes dumbass decisions and Patroclus starts to get a little pissed. This is similar to season 1 Jayce and Viktor. Also I just want to quickly mention the women. Sky and Briseis both have a platonic but great relationship to Viktor and Patroclus. Mel and Deidama both had a romantic relationship with Jayce and Achilles where it is unclear whether they truly loved each other. In the Song of Achilles Achilles seems to have been forced to have sex with her while other perspectives on the Greek mythology says that they loved each other. In arcane everybody has different opinions and perspectives on Jayce and Mel’s relationship. I think those are all the parallels I could muster up for season 1. Next is season 2. In season 2 Jayce=Patroclus, Viktor=Achilles. There are definitely more evident similarities in season 2 I feel like. Viktor obviously leaves Jayce, ending their partnership. Whilst Achilles doesn’t exactly leave Patroclus, they do get into more and more arguments and differences. Viktor goes back to the undercity and becomes Jesus 2.0 or whatever. Achilles becomes prideful and starts getting high on all of the glory he’s receiving. Although both characters still have the same principles, they execute it terribly which leads to some problems with their partners as we know. Viktor goes crazy, Achilles goes crazy. At the end because of Achilles’s mess ups and arrogance, Patroclus basically sacrifices himself. Jayce did the same with Viktor. In the end, Jayce and Viktor sort of die and just become eternal beings or whatever. Patroclus and Achilles are also both dead in the end and also meet each other in the afterlife, becoming eternal beings in a way. However in the Song of Achilles, Patroclus was at first not buried properly which is why he was just a wandering ghost for some time. When Achilles died his situation worsened as literally the only person who would have buried him was dead. Achilles was buried because everyone loved him so there was no way he wasn’t buried. It was only when Thetis decided to let him go to the afterlife that he was able to meet Achilles. I thought that was pretty similar to the ending of Arcane when people would write the names of their loved ones who died during the war and no one wrote Viktor’s name because the only person who would’ve was with him. Also as I said in my post, ‘historians’/the general audience will know both relationships as close friends or brother. I’m sorry that this is so badly explained but I tried my best😭😭

[starry-bi-sky]

do yall ever think about bruce/batman!clone danny standing in front of his bathroom mirror after finding out he was a clone and silently tracing his face. The slope of his jaw and point of his chin. The high angle of his cheekbones and the shape of his eyes, the curve of his brow bones and the shape of his nose. The volume of his hair and the way it curls and gets fluffy when it gets too long.

His hair is black the same way a crow's wing is black. His dad's hair is black the same way a black bear's fur is black. His dad's eyes are blue like the ocean is blue. Danny's eyes are blue the same way a glacier is blue.

His dad has a square jaw and straight flat hair, and he tans and gets a face full of freckles when he's out in the sun for too long. Danny burns like a lobster and his face remains untouched. Danny has a sharp jaw and tall cheekbones, and Sam says when he's not smiling there's almost something regal about him. You would never call Jack Fenton "regal" when he's not smiling.

Sam says when he's not smiling he looks scary the same way a stone statue is. Jack Fenton when he's not smiling looks scary the same way that german shepherd staring at you across the street is.

Do you ever think he grew up wondering if he was adopted. Because of course, he has black hair and blue eyes like his dad. But having the same color doesn't make you someone's child.

Or, worse, things he's heard from the other kids and the other parents and even some of his teachers growing up; that he was the product of an affair. And that his dad was just too stupid to notice. And Danny would defend his parents until the day he died, because Jack Fenton wasn't an idiot and Maddie Fenton wasn't a cheater.

But doubt comes in with fickle tongue. his parents swear up and down that he is their child when he asks about either. That Danny just had his grandparents' features, but he was their son and they loved him.

But Danny doesn't look like either of his parents. His mom's eyes are blue like an aquamarine and Jazz's too. And they burn like lobsters in the sun too, but Jazz gets freckles on her face and so does Maddie. And as Danny grows up he doesn't bulk up or get stocky like his dad did, and when he hits puberty he doesn't shoot up like a tree like Jack Fenton did.

He stays small, and they say he's a late bloomer (and he is), or that he just has his mom's height. But he's fast and has good stamina, and some days it feels like he's built entirely different from his family. That the things they went through growing up just didn't apply to him. Jack and Maddie Fenton both had acne and breakouts when they hit puberty, and Jazz inherits it and he's seen the amount of skincare products she keeps on her side of the bathroom.

And then he hits puberty and breaks out maybe once or twice, but his skin stays clear for the most part and the problems and changes his dad went through just don't happen to him.

And the truth is worse than all of the lies.

How horrifying.

[centrally-unplanned]

While I could get into what % of the Ukrainian refugees are "economic" refugees from non-occupied areas (Imo ~1/3rd), I don't think it matters too much - the point is they totally did leave. It doesn't really matter if they are being treated with "open arms", people are totally going to do it! They currently do do it, by the millions after all. I think if you had no laws against migration combined with the 80%+ tax rates you need, this is going to be a huge problem for the system (and if you support closed borders and 80% tax rates, what are we arguing about, you support the draft)

As for the second point, I think this we can label as a variant of the slippery slope fallacy. Virtually all political things ever are good in some contexts, bad in others, and their value is determined by their context. If some "slavery and torture" policy somehow allowed people to Cure Death Forever in some contrived fantasy rpg scenario, I could totally see that being justified! I just don't see the value in any of this book morality or hypotheticals, you have to actually set up the real scenario and determine policy from there. In the real world, we for example absolutely justify large numbers of civilian deaths when prosecuting war, because otherwise you can't prosecute the war at all and have wrote a blank check to the enemy to utilize human shields. That doesn't mean any number of civilian death is justified, but the number is higher than zero for sure.

So to go into grounded scenarios, I think Ukraine absolutely would have been conquered by Russia sans conscription. It did not have anywhere near the fiscal capacity to do what you were proposing, people have been trying to flee the country for a long time (so it had to impose immigration controls, which his another sharp freedom curtailment), it had the draft before the war btw! Because Russian aggression was obvious so it was stepped up in ~2014. They have faced constant manpower shortages that they absolutely have tried to fill with fiscal incentives which have failed. And in a few months in 2022, as the invasion went underway, I believe the armed forces were expanded by 500,000 men, more than doubling in size. The idea that you could even implement a tax-and-salary system to get that going, let alone actually fill those slots with willing people quitting their jobs, is to me a non-starter. So this isn't some silly evil empire hypothetical whatever - you support a policy regime where Russia conquers Ukraine.

Which, to again clarify, I do not say in some haha dunk gatcha - I don't think that is some insanely stupid stance or anything, maybe you think Ukraine should have had a radically different military system, give them some nukes, etc etc. Maybe you don't think the war is worth it, let Russia conquer Ukraine. All fine. My stance is we don't live in that perfectly optimized world by any means. War is real, people are stupid, security conflicts are still with us, and nations are gonna be pressed into hard situations by the hands of fate. You face those with whatever tools fit, and sometimes it is gonna be a draft.

There is no actual situation where a draft is justified, in my opinion. If it's important enough to enslave random citizens, it's important enough to raise taxes until you can afford to pay people what they demand to volunteer.

Especially embarrassing when your GDP per capita is in the top 25, Finland. Yeah, you're next to your historical colonizer, but if you're not willing to raise taxes slightly then I don't think you really want to be independent.