#and the right wing protests are all about the right to be as selfish and egotistical as possible without consequence

[bitchy-peachy]

"Omg, you're so selfish for not fucking up your entire country for this other one."

Yes, yes I am so utterly "selfish" that I care about the rights and safety of all minorities in my country that consist of disabled, brown and black, immigrants, lgbtqia, and poor people etc in general.

I ain't a privileged little twat having a moralistic main character moment that will sacrifice people here for others. We need to take care of our own shit before we go all in for your cause because if we don't do so we will no longer be able to help anyone.

Blocking all suspicious accounts cause I ain't in the mood for right-wing-looking "vote third party" or "don't vote" fucks that want to not only destroy people in our country but want Mr. Finish The Job to be elected so he could obliterate your one-issue.

Let's see how well your stupid protest works then when we're all fucked and can't even help ourselves much less anyone else outside our country.

I recommend that everyone block the accounts spreading this copypaste anti voting propaganda bullshit. We saw it in 2016 and we should be intolerant to this crap.

[thedarlingdearestdead]

Bedrest:

Summary: Anakin has been running himself ragged over the months of the war, but he persists, because he is a Jedi. However, when you try to join him on the front lines he gets angry, the two of you need to work out your overworking issues...

Warnings: Violence, angst, fluff.

Word count: 1,880

“What are you doing here!” Anakin yelled over the din of battle. He was sheltered behind an outcrop of rock, had paused to catch his breath, lightsaber still turned on and poised for attack when he saw you. A few metres behind him, talking hurriedly to one of the clones behind a similar structure. 

You looked up shocked. “Anakin?” He should not be here. You were about to give him a right telling off when an explosion hit one of the space crafts to your left. You duck for cover and hear him yell over at you. Running in his direction, you use his angry voice as a guide through the smoke and sand. 

“Over here! Force, get down!” He pulls you by the sleeve, just in time for a blaster projectile flung through the air at the space where you had been moment ago. You coughed for a moment and he surveyed you for any serious injuries before jamming his elbow into your ribs. “I thought you were doing a diplomatic mission on Naboo? What do you think you’re doing here!?”

How dare he. “Me? I got a message not two days ago that you were disposed to the hospital wing because of a serious head injury! I was sent in as a reinforcement. What could you possibly be thinking coming out here!” 

It was true that Anakin had been badly hurt and was currently running on adrenaline, two hours of sleep, and a copious, possibly dangerous, amount of pain medication. But he was a General, he needed to be here. And his Padawan was out there too. He looked down at you, the anger and stress he was feeling radiating off him in waves.Rather than scare or intimidate you however, you only felt yourself get more frustrated at him. For years you had known eachother, grown up together, fought together. And all that time he had pulled stunts just like this one. And he would get away with it. He always got away with it. But at what cost?

"Who went and told you that I was with the healers?" He asked grumpily, sending a quick look over your shelter at the battle ahead of you both. 

"Who do you think?!" 

He groaned ducking back down, "Damn it Snips..." He thought for a moment. "Look it doesn't matter now, we'll talk about it later-"

You started to protest but he cut you off, "What we need to focus on is getting to the control tower. So you wait here and I'll go-"

"Shut up Anakin." You rolled your eyes, endlessly annoyed with his selfish, protective, recklessness.

"What?"

"If you really think that I'm going to let you go out there by yourself then you're more hurt than the medics said. Come on, let's go."

"But-"

"No."

He glared at you for a second but you held his gaze. Finally he relented, sighing and looking up to the sky - or what you could see of the sky through the chaos and fumes.

"Alright, fine." He conceded and you smirked a little, standing up and moving to the next safe place to shelter behind, before he could change his mind. You heard him stand and follow you...and then stop.

"Oh great." You turned around and saw him bent over, trying to catch his breath. Hand clutching at his head for a moment, before falling back down. He shut his eyes for a moment, clearly gathering his strength, separating his mind and body so that he could continue. "Don't say a word." He said dangerously coming back to the battle, his stance fixing itself immediately upon opening his eyes again.

The conflict was long and hard but the two of you infiltrated the line and made your way to the control centre and cut off the power grid, there was a communications black out for the enemy and in the confusion your forces had taken the base. Anakin hadn't stopped moving the entire time and had been limping for about an hour now on and off. He had been walking on his bad leg for a while now though because of his various meeting with the other generals and the Jedi council, not letting them see his weakness, or see to his injuries. The idiot.

"Anakin." You caught up to him, grabbing his arm as he finished the evacuation discussions with Commander Rex. You pulled him away into a quiet hallway.

"What?" He hissed down at you, moving from diplomatic to surly in seconds, he was in pain. His whole body was stiff and you knew from experience that he was barely keeping it together.

"I need you to stop. Just for a minute. Master Che is free, we should go see her!" You pleaded with him, your own body was exhausted from the fighting, you hadn't slept in nearly two days. But you were nowhere near his condition.

"I'm fine." His voice was cold and stubborn and you knew what you had to do to get him seen to. 

"Ok well I need to go to her, please come with me." You talked through gritted teeth, hoping that he'd interpret it as pain rather than frustration. He paused for a second, watching you, and you could almost feel his mind whirring as he debated whether or not to follow you. He finally relented. 

"Fine, but if I'm called I can't promise to stay long." 

"Of course Ani, let's go."

"You what? You can't call me that."

"Yes I can."

"No you can't, not in public at least."

"We're not in public we are alone in a hallway"

He stopped and looked down at you. A cheeky grin playing on his lips now. "We are, aren't we?" 

"Don't even try that with me right now." You say, and you march in front of him, ignoring his childish huff.

As you make your way to Master Che's room, you can't help but feel a sense of unease. The war was taking a toll on everyone, and Anakin's behaviour worried you. You had always known him to be reckless, but now it seemed like he was actively seeking out danger. You had to do something, but you didn't know what. The battle was over, and you had both made it out alive. But luck always runs out. 

You pushed the thought out of your mind as you arrived at the temporary medical room. It was not the most crowded one you had seen, a smaller number of casualties had been listed on this occasion than many of the other battles you had served in lately. Master Che was just standing up from the side of a cot in the corner when she looked and and saw the two of you enter. Her look was nothing short of livid, full of disapproval and anger. But she swallowed it, walking over slowly to where Anakin had already planted himself on a bench - not a bed, he would not be staying long. 

“General Skywalker. I believe my instructions was rest?” 

She picked up a scanner unit and started to examine the wound on his leg. Tutting under her breathe all the while. It was a pretty nasty blaster burn by your reading of the scans, one which would require weeks of healing and care. But Anakin was already leaning forward to on of the medical trays, grabbing a handful of pills and shimmying off the remains of his trouser leg, leaving his leg bare from the knee down. “Bandage me up and I’ll be on my way. I have things to attend to, and you have more injured men than me.” 

Master Che sighed heavily, but you could see the resignation in her eyes. She knew there was no point in arguing with Anakin when he got like this. "Fine, but those pills will only get you so far. When you arrive back at the temple you must rest, one week will stop you from harming yourself permanently but I would recommend at least a fortnight. And I mean it, Skywalker, or else I'll have you confined to the medical bay for the remainder of the war.”

Anakin nodded curtly, and Master Che began to tend to his injury, muttering to herself about Jedi who never listen to instructions. You stood awkwardly by the side, unsure of what to do. Anakin's demeanour had changed completely now that he was getting medical attention - he seemed almost relieved to have the chance to sit down and take a break. You wondered if he had been pushing himself too hard, too often.

As Master Che finished her work, she turned to you. "And you, young one?” Her eyes scanned up and down your body but you hadn’t been so unfortunate as your companion. “Let me stitch that up.” She gestured to your head and you hand instinctively reach up to the space above your eyebrow, it came back bloodied. 

“I hadn’t noticed. Yes, please.” You sat down, ignoring a look from Anakin. He was brooding now. You hadn’t noticed. Blood was pouring over your forehead and all you could do was nag him about a burn? 

When she finally finished you both got up quickly, relieved. Master Che surveyed you both. “I don't want to see either of you back here anytime soon.”

You nodded, and helped Anakin to his feet. He was still limping, but he seemed to be moving a little better now. As you walked back to your quarters, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease. You knew the war wasn't over yet, and you had a sinking feeling that things were only going to get worse.

Anakin seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowed at you. He didn’t acknowledge you hands on his arm, steadying his walk. You were certain he would reject it if he did. 

“It scares me when I think of you in battle. It’s hard for me to watch.” He said quietly, lowly. 

“It’s my job Anakin.” This was a well worn argument between you two.

"I know that, but it doesn't make it any easier. I worry about you." Anakin's voice was soft now, almost vulnerable. It was a side of him that you didn't see often, and it made your heart ache.

"I know you do, Ani. But you know I can take care of myself." You squeezed his arm gently, trying to reassure him. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions that you couldn't quite place. 

"I know… I know I just can’t help it… I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead. It was a gentle gesture, but it sent shivers down your spine. It was far too intimidate and action and so close to the other soldiers but you allowed it. Basking in his warmth, his smell. It was smoky, and sweaty, and a little bit bloody. But when wasn’t he these days? 

You take a quick glance either side of the corridor and give him the quickest of kisses on the lips, he leans forwards into it preventing you from getting away. You grin into him but do pull back, “Come on General, bedrest has been ordered.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere V + H: Shaiapouf

This ant is born to be a henchman in every universe

Though one would not be wrong when questioning how often he feels the need to direct the villain he’s serving’s attention

Always willing to give up any part of himself for his precious villain to succeed

Ride or die they’re glory is everything to him

But only if that glory includes him

He’s a tad selfish but for all the right reasons 

It’s for you of course

When you rise from the ashes of his former creator to take on the role of an innovator 

You’re all he can ask for 

No longer tied by his biological connection or maybe just an overcomplicated pheromone mishap

He devotes himself to the legacy you’ve restarted making his uncalled-for connections to his old villain

But it’s the differences he does notice that lead him to be…so involved:

“Shiapouf make a note. Clearly, the titanium-devastating robot taught them nothing about better infrastructure.”

“Yes, my liege!” 

He admired your back which was beautifully annunciated by the elegant cape on your back. Pouf proudly squeezed at the bandaged tips of his fingers as he recalled personally sewing the insignia of your villain name onto its center. 

Turning before you he opened the door of the invisible jet for you, bowing as you entered the back seat. Closing the door he sent one more hidden glare at the construction crew working in the rubble of the old sky-scraper. In his deepest of hearts, he almost wished they wouldn’t try, shaking his head in punishment. You wanted this, therefore this was right. Entering through the door, he harshly yelled at the door of the cockpit,” Go.”

That was all that was needed for the jet to silently left the city, cruising above national waters in seconds. Pouf had located himself directly across from you watching in admiration and amusement as you twisted and tilted your face as you scrolled through articles on your digital pad. 

“Once again this proves to be ineffectual in making them evolve. This wasn’t a big enough sign for them to even consider using that material they discovered that could be made with the remains of that overgrowing landfill. “

Pouf resisted the urge to clutch his cheeks,” My liege, you’re so generous to these low-lifes.”

You let out a muted ‘thanks’ before closing your eyes in thought. Millions of images from various politicians and inventors calling for reform or change. None of them are worthy enough or even supported enough to be considered significant change. It started to make you wonder…

“Perhaps…this isn’t the right thing to do.”

Pouf’s smile was gone. A serious expression on his face as he asked, ”What do you mean your Grace?”

Sighing you looked out the window,” My whole goal is to help the humans of this world evolve but I worry all I’m doing is just killing the masses for no reason.”

If the cabin of the jet wasn’t cool, it was freezing because of Pouf’s glare.

“Who says this?”

“What do you mean I am—”

“Who said this.”

The question that didn’t need to be said brought a familiar pit in your stomach. Fidgeting with your fingerless gloves and then your raised collar that felt like it was making you hot. Pouf’s darkened tuscan-yellow eyes were filled with the retained fury of a protector. One that you found much more frightening than the hero you escaped from every time.

“A journalist from the Hunter’s Post. She just made some really good–”

“Name?”

“Pouf I don’t want to punish anyone–”

“Name, (Y/n).”

“Ponzu….her name was Ponzu.”

“Thank you (Y/n)--”

“Please Pouf I don’t want anything—”

Pouf smiled widely, “I think you should rest, my Liege!”  

You opened your mouth to protest, actually getting up from the seat you were in to plead. Finding you’re body refused to listen as you finally registered the shimmering colors and grand wideness of Shaiapouf’s wings. You didn’t need to see the sparkling particles to know what was happening, vaguely recalling this same scene playing out just a few days ago.

“Sleep peacefully, my (Y/n). I’ll deal with the parasite that’s poisoned you.”

Pouf smiled at your slumped figure before snapping his fingers. His joyful expression is gone now that three winged servants appeared at his side. All three bowing and awaiting his orders.

“Find the journalist Ponzu. Bring her to me alive, I will deal with her punishment personally.”

Two of the servants darted off, quickly flying out of a hatch that allowed them to leave without letting too much of the wind inside. The remaining servant stood still awaiting orders.

“Idiot. Get our Great One a blanket, can’t you see they’re needing one.”

The servant bowed their head swiftly heading to the back of the jet. Giving Pouf the privacy he desired to stand from his own seat and kneel before yours. Looking up at your sleeping face, he couldn’t deny himself the urge to caress your sleeping face.

“Don’t worry. I will always fight for your glorious mission. Even if you forget.”

[the-californicationist]

Good Fences (Fluffuary #26)

FEB26: Try New Things

Your bags were packed, and your passport was clenched tightly in your hand as you went through security. You’d never been on a plane before, and now here you were, getting special treatment from some of John’s friends and being flown all the way to England. It was a dream come true for you. You’d always wanted to travel abroad, but you had to admit that it was giving you no small amount of anxiety. John’s old team was joining you, along with some other soldiers, as they had all just been debriefed from whatever massive mission had just been concluded.

John had spared you the details. All you knew is that some Russian terrorist had been taken care of, and now the world had a little more peace than it did before. You wondered to yourself if it had been John’s doing. You imagined him raising the gun and ending the life of some selfish man halfway across the globe, but you tried to put it out of your mind. John didn’t like to upset you with those sorts of things, so you tried to respect that boundary. 

Soap wrapped an arm around your shoulders,

“Are ye ready, hen? Big flight. Gonna meet your wee mother-in-law. Tha’d be enough to scare me.”

“His mom is wonderful!” You protested, “I’m excited to meet her in person. It’s just the plane that I might not enjoy so much.”

You eyed the huge, private jet and as you approached it, the wings and body loomed larger and larger. 

“You alright, love?” John helped you with your bags and got you seated next to him on the plane.

The seats were cozy and everything felt nice, but you were scared about your first flight.

He pet your hair out of your face and held your hand between both of his, 

“Gonna be some loud engine sounds, and the take off is bloody fast, but you’ll be alright, missus. I promise.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder and tried to anticipate all of the things he said. When the flight crew went over the safety information, you read through the card twice. Then, it was time to take off. 

The whirring spin of the propellers made the whole plane vibrate, and you heard the machines spooling up, gaining in speed and power. You gripped John’s hand tighter, and he held you close to him. The runway flashed beside you through the windows and just when you thought it wouldn’t possibly go any faster, it did. All of a sudden, you were weightless, and the ground disappeared below you. You were flying, and you were amazed by it. 

“Oh, my God,” you whispered, staring out the window.

“Right?” John agreed, “Proud of you, love. You did it.”

“Yeah, but now we have to land.”

He chuckled,

“Plenty of time between now and then. Wanna watch a film? I can read to you.”

You asked him to finish his book. You loved listening to him read. It was something you did together frequently, and it really helped to calm you down. Before you knew it, you were being woken up with some breakfast and tea, about an hour from the end of the flight.

John was still holding your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb, staring out at the long, flat expanse of the British Isles as they came into view. 

You squeezed his hand,

“You excited to be home, John?”

He didn’t look at you, at first, but he said, 

“You are my home, love. I never left.”

A short one! Sorry!!

AO3 LINK

[justapigeonn]

the thing i don't understand when ppl try to defend gray wing's constant bootlicking of clear sky is they'll always bring up the argument 'well DUH they're BROTHERS gray wing would never want to believe that clear sky's a bad person!!' but that entire argument goes out the window when you make them remember that gray wing literally threw hands with clear sky upon discovering he'd exiled their younger brother jagged peak after breaking his leg.

gray wing travels to clear sky's camp to confront him PERSONALLY and when clear sky outright admits that he cast out jagged peak because he was 'weak' and 'no longer useful' to him or the group because of his disability, gray wing's first thought is to get PHYSICALLY VIOLENT with clear sky because he understands how fucked up and selfish his mindset is - and this is only book 1 mind you. he KNOWS that clear sky is willing to abandon those less physically capable than him out of his own selfish interest and physically fights him over it and is still understandably seething over it when he gets home and then we proceed to never reeeally see that side of him towards clear sky again (until one notable scene we'll get to later) even as clear sky gets progressively worse and more violent.

this bit has been discussed time and time again but for the sake of expanding my point - later on in the books when the moor cats come across bumble on the verge of death, gray wing himself and the others hear clear sky sheepishly admit from his own mouth that after finding her alone on his territory starving and desperate, he beat her to the point that she fell unconscious and he left her to her own devices

clear sky severely downplays the situation and claims to only have given her a 'cuff to the ear' but because we've already witnessed him murdering a mother cat over a simple territorial dispute first hand through the eyes of thunder, the likeliness of this being a lie is almost absolute. and what can gray wing do all while bumble is bleeding to death on the ground and turtle tail mourns her? he worries about how clear sky's reputation might be tarnished in the eyes of the moor cats :( as if that wasn't already the case after his wrongful exile of jagged peak and his unnecessarily aggressive and territorial behaviour. all of a sudden keeping clear sky's name squeaky clean is of the utmost importance to him despite him not really caring about about that at all in the previous book and merely standing up for what was right and giving his brother the piece of mind he deserved.

but ok, what happens when gray wing witnesses clear sky murder a cat with his very own eyes? - not just any cat mind you, but an old tribemate and beloved friend/ally of gray wing. surely he'd believe it and act accordingly right?? yeah!.....

....for roughly 5 minutes. even CLEAR SKY HIMSELF appears shocked

later on in the early chapters of the blazing star it's only reinforced

but yeah while that's all the text i can be bothered to sieve through right now, all in all gray wing had like 2 notable moments standing up to clear sky before resorting to being a spineless apologist for him. we KNOW he is capable of standing up to him and gray wing KNOWS what clear sky is capable of and what he's done but then he switches gears for little known reason. there's compassion and then there's sheer stupidity and gray wing repeatedly displays the latter.

i have no problem with gray wing still retaining some level of nostalgia and love towards clear because at the end of the day, yes, they are brothers they grew up together and were at one point exceptionally close, but that doesn't leave him any right to downplay the god awful things he did and protest when others are rightfully hateful towards clear sky.

anyways stan thunder idk why the fandom was always so adamant about casting him to the side and cultivating a rivalry between the two brothers when thunder was always a far superior foil to clear sky in every conceivable way

also p.s. please don't let me stop you from liking gray wing if you want to this is sheerly an over the top rebuttal to a common argument i see used to defend the author's poor writing choices

peace and love ✌️💞

[tumblingxelian]

Political Discourse - Retrospective

So, regarding some political discourse that happened on my blog earlier, I want to clarify some things.

1: Hyperbole doesn't translate well across text, this applies both to me and those I've spoken/argued with. Hyperbole doesn't translate well when one can't see the associated dramatic body language or tone that would serve to convey that.

2: Context is key, so if one does want to take issue with something its best to have all the pieces in place rather than expecting context clues to create a common frame of reference as it might in a verbal conversation.

3: Its much easier to just not bother and direct one's energy into more helpful and practical goals than arguing online.

On the more political front, I do have some thoughts however:

I am posting this in a good faith effort to not argue or antagonize:

Firstly, I feel that for all Americas horrifically out-sized influence on the world one cannot just dismiss domestic issues as unimportant. Even if we ignore the ripple effects of a right wing VS left wing president on a purely cultural level, the sheer number of queer people, women, and people of color who will be actively targeted if Trump gets back into power is staggering.

There is a marked difference between the parties on these fronts and people will live or die based on that. Let alone stuff like Trumps handling of Covid and how his intransigence basically fucked the rest of the world over, along with killing millions of Americans.

Basically, when the difference between the the parties of the most powerful nation on earth are so drastically different in terms of who even counts as human, being a one issue voter doesn’t really work as an ethical or even practical approach to politics —especially not addressing the kinds of issues making it hard to stomach voting for someone like Biden.

Secondly, I feel a lot of the discourse around the US & Israel's ties are not very helpful or accurate as they often seem to frame it as though they just became allies under Biden or otherwise that this is a new relationship. As it is, ties between the two countries are nearly a century old at this stage and disentangling from that is not easy.

What's more, a politically active American friend said that they feel a lot of Americans, themselves included, often oversimplify foreign policy and that it's never as simple as a good or bad decision.

In this case, America's main focus is trying to keep the war from going regional while not losing what influence they have over a nuclear equipped state in the Middle East.

(It was also notes how the messages of trying to "fight antisemitism" as opposed to just being blunt about the political realities was manipulative and poorly thought out at best.)

But the fact is, as horrific as what Israel is doing is, it's not something Biden just started supporting at random. America's ties are decades long and not easy to divest from without creating more instability and bloodshed in the long run.

So while I of course advocate for pushing for action on these fronts, its integral to both remember that foreign policy is a nightmare and that one will have far better luck using protest to force a Democratic president to change course than a GOP one who will just tell the police to shoot you.

Thirdly, I think its quite reasonable for none Americans to take an interest in these matters. Hell, I have been an activist for years, donating and campaigning on everything from America's forever war, to Palestinian rights, Queer rights both locally and internationally and beyond since childhood.

Add in that, even aside from morality, I've no shortage of friends in other nations who will be impacted by who is president and friends in America who are justly terrified of dying or having to flee the country should Trump get back in.

Put simply, I feel my and other none Americans persistent presence on the matter of who ends up in the White House can be regarded as selfish or coming from a place of privilege. We're asking you to vote because we can't and far more people will die and be hurt if Trump is in power, including yourselves.

We're trying to help.

Finally, I will not see eye to eye with other leftists, they will not see eye to eye with me. That's fine. Ultimately, though we disagree on how best energy should be directed for the common good, I don't think my counterparts, or I have ill intent or selfish motivations.

[brothermoth]

1890s America and Red Dead Redemption

Part One: Violent Delights and Violent Ends

-----

The latter half of the 1800s was a time characterized by struggle. Off the back of the Civil War, a country divided in not two but four by the rising industry to the east and the stubborn pastoralism of the west. The southern portion of the country beaten down, burned and disgraced, and the northern portion rolling in gold and prosperity. Whether they knew it or not, the common American had their life ultimately shaped by these divisions.

As the opening lines of Red Dead Redemption 2 state: "The age of outlaws and gunslingers was at its end" (Rockstar, 2018). Yet contrary to the following text, America was far from becoming a "land of laws". Laws for the poor, perhaps, but the wealthy still thrived and skirted just beyond the boundaries of human decency.

From the 1870s to the 1920s, miners and railroad workers unionized and carried out often violent protests in the hopes of gaining better working conditions. The poor had little but their fists, and they had no qualms about using them. It is in this turmoil we find Dutch Van Der Linde with his Robin Hood-esque visions of a crumbling elite and prospering poor. The struggle between workers and their iron-fisted overseers was bloody, and Dutch would not have it any other way. Those he took under his wing were the beaten down lowest tiers of society. How could they not see him as a shining idol of American idealism? What he wants, what he fights for, it is for them. Outcasts with nowhere else to turn, given a cause and a home and something that perhaps felt real to them for the first time in a long time.

Race is a topic not wholly explored, but touched on certainly within the game. Tensions rose as racial divisions were made even clearer, black Americans fighting for their own foothold in a world that has just opened up to them and their children. Lenny Summers is the first in generations to be born free of slavery. Javier comes from a country that has been terrorized by colonialism and corruption, yet he still dreams of returning. 1890s Mexico (and what we see in RDR1) is a topic of its own, though the spirit of people downtrodden by colonialism is echoed throughout both games. Sean, who was chased from the country his father fought for. Whose father was killed in his own bed, likely in the same room as his son. Violence in this world is inescapable, a swirling vortex that consumes everything in its path.

Dutch embraced this, as many leaders of the past and future have. If you cannot fight with peace, then sticks and stones make for much better conversation. I can't say I disagree with him, in all honesty, and that is what makes him so fascinating. He's right. He has a point, a cause. What went so wrong? Do heroes not get a happy ending?

In 1892, railroad employees of Carnegie Steel in Pennsylvania's Homestead plant went on strike when chairman Henry Frick cut their pay dramatically. 300 agents of the Pinkerton detective agency arrived, escalating tensions. Violence erupted, the Pennsylvania national guard was called. Sixteen men were killed.

Leviticus Cornwall is Andrew Carnegie, Andrew Carnegie is Leviticus Cornwall. The Pinkertons are rightful villains in our narrative, the gang is a thorn in their side which must be cut free. Law and order, right? Dutch was right, his killing of Cornwall was arguably deserved. Yet what makes it so wrong?

Dutch's actions are selfish, in the end. Not because he doesn't care for the people around him, as I believe he truly does. He sees things getting worse and worse and only digs in his heels. Dutch is the American Dream. The bloody messiah to the poor and disadvantaged. He guts them the same as any railroad magnate. Power corrupts, this is what we learn. Power and vitriol and paranoia. The people left struggling in his wake are the common folk who get caught in the crossfire, used and abused only to prove a point. They know nothing but violence, and who is to tell them otherwise? Even Arthur in his end of life maturation cannot pry himself free. He kills and kills and in the end he dies for it. Even John, who tried to leave it behind. Even Sadie, who was ruined by it, embraced it in the end.

The American dream is indecipherable from the American nightmare. They are lovers and companions. There is nothing to do but fight, and even then you have no hope of winning. It's a beautiful tragedy, is it not? All these people who never had a chance, yet who tried anyway. Workers who gained little and lost everything still took their signs and marched for what was right. Black Americans who were beaten down again and again still got up each and every day and did whatever it was they had to do. Native Americans, who were nearly erased. Who still cling to their heritage and claw back what has been stolen. Red Dead Redemption is about the small people. The forgotten in the annals of American history.

[15fishes]

dystopian novel but its tumblr

💥thatonemitsurikinnie123 follow

ok but can we seriously talk about how effed up things have gotten that people are actually being arrested for saying swears? like they aren’t that bad that peoples lives should be ruined over them…saying swears is a human right imo…

💕ilikefrogsandcoffeealot🔁 thatonemitsurikinnie123 follow

no it’s literally not? why do you need to swear its literally vulgar and rude. how is not being able to say horrible words a human rights violation? Literally unalive yourself op.

♻️catraisdumbiamverysmart🔁 ilikefrogsandcoffeealot follow

thats not the point of the post you idiot. of course nobody here is saying that saying swears is moral or justifiable. people who say swears like **** and **** should all be unalived immediately, what op is saying is that the oppressive right wing government is trying to control our minds using sanitatized shows like steven universe that have secret hidden homophobic messages so that they can have a perfect word and make us do their bidding like were all sims! its not about the swearing, god, get some reading comreheion. compernmientoln. copresenion. whatever I dont have to pander to this literate-normative society.

⭐️starclansbravestwarrior follow 🔁 catraisdumbiamverysmart follow

prev obviously doesnt live in the US because saying g** is literally illegal too. “boo hoo we cant ssy swears anymore :(“ try living in the states for one day? honestly making a post like this is so insensitive like. did anyone here even consider that its harder for me? did you even remember america when you were making this post? non-americans are so selfish.

☹️thebananamuffinman🔁theblueberrymuffinman

pretty sure op is actually referencing when in 2036 over half the population of america all collectively shouted “****” in protest and then a bunch of people briefly went to jail? obviously op is opposing the new laws theyre only saying that that one time in america was pretty messed up…

💥 thatonemitsurikinnie123🔁 thebananamuffinman

WHAT!?! what are you all talking about!?! I am literally word for word saying that yes!!! I think people should be able to swear!!! why not?

⚽️ishipirlpeoplewhoplayfootball follow 🔁rpfismypassion follow

lol. “why not” ha. are you actually that stupid op? do you even understand the extend of the damage that swearing has done? my grandma literally UNALIVED herself because somebody sweared infront of her. how can you be so brain unalive that you cant see the harm of words that were literally INVENTED to be bad?

💥 thatonemitsurikinnie123 follow 🔁 ishipirlpeoplewhoplayfootball follow

killed.

⚽️ ishipirlpeoplewhoplayfootball follow 🔁 thatonemitsurikinnie123 follow

…what?

💥 thatonemitsurikinnie123 follow 🔁 ishipirlpeoplewhoplayfootball follow

not unalived. killed.

🩸vampireenthusiast🔁 thatonemitsurikinnie123 follow

excuse you? this is the sort of disgusting stuff that comes from opposing the law. it starts with wanting to swear and in less than five seconds op is BLANTANLY advocating for unaliving people

💥 thatonemitsurikinnie123 follow 🔁 vampireenthusiast

STOP SAYING UNALIVED IM LOSING MY MIND. KILL. DEATH

💟queersandbeersandbeesandknees🔁mangaspoilersonmyblog follow

are we just going to ignore the absolutely insane rant at the beginning of this post or…??

✨cutegirlnamedpencilcase🔁flowersandcutekitties

if you reblogged a post with vulgar language like this you’re actually part of the problem. block and unfollow me.

💥 thatonemitsurikinnie123-deactivated182828292929929 🔁 cutegirlnamedpencilcase

you literally just reblogged it fuck off

🖼️arthistoryismypassion follow 🔁yesmynameisactuallymilkstopasking follow

lol op got unalived by tumblr RIP BOZO

🎃ihatealliceskatersforeverandever 🔁acamallcopsaremeanies follow

BREAKING!! EVERYONE REBLOG THIS VERSION OF THE POST OR ELSE IM BLOCKING YOU!!! NEW LAW JUST DROPPED THAT PROPOSES BANNING LEARNING HOW TO READ FOR KIDS 10 AND YOUNGER!! EVERYONE CALL THEIR REPRESENTATIVES!!!!!!!

💥 thatonemitsurikinnie1234567 🔁mcytblog500 follow

im killingmyself for real this time

#tw s****** #illprobably get banned again for this but meh i want to add another digit to my name anyways #DONT check the notes btw lgbterfs (lgbt exclusionary radical feminists) found this post :( #also whats up with that guy who ships the soccer players lol i read some of his fics and its just like all really erotic dentist visits #im kinda into it

50,000 notes

🦝15fishes

I am a completely normal person who did not spend 1 hour making this tumblr post that will not even get 1 note :)

[ailendolin]

Title: A Moment [AO3]

Characters: Loki/Mobius

Warnings: Spoilers for 2x01

Summary: After the events of 2x01, Loki and Mobius are not okay.

————

A Moment

They need to find Sylvie.

For some reason, they need to find Sylvie but all Mobius can think about is that he almost lost Loki – that for one awful, terrible moment, he’d been convinced he had lost him. He can’t rush into the next life or death situation as if nothing had happened, not when his heart is still running a mile a minute and Loki looks like he’s one step away from cracking under the strain of this whole mess.

He’ll be damned if he doesn’t put Loki first right now.

So after pulling off his smouldering suit, Mobius wraps his fingers around Loki’s wrist to stop him from running off. The skin under his palm is cold and clammy, and Loki’s pulse thrums as frantically as a hummingbird’s wings against his fingers.

“Mobius, what–?” he asks but still lets Mobius place his other hand on his back and gently steer him out of the room. “Where are we going?”

“To get patched up,” Mobius says. Behind him, O.B. hangs back to give them some space and Mobius is grateful for it. “I don’t know about you but I don’t do so well with the almost-dying thing.”

He says it to shift the focus onto himself. He’s fine – a little bruised and banged up but mostly okay. Loki is not, though. There are tremors running through him that may or may not be the first signs of shock, and he’s still bleeding. He needs a break, and Mobius hates that he can’t offer him more than a few minutes away from the chaos.

“But–“ Loki tries to protest but snaps his mouth shut when he sees the look Mobius sends him.

“I promise we will look for her,” Mobius says as calmly as he can. “But we will make a stop at Medical first. Okay?”

Loki nods, and he looks more relieved than resigned when he says, “Okay.”

Mobius can feel some of the tension that has been knotting up his stomach since Loki’s first reappearance in the TVA drain out of him. He gentles his hold on Loki’s wrist now that he’s sure Loki won’t run and says softly, gratefully, “Thank you.”

Medical is blissfully empty when they finally reach it. He allows Loki to fuss over him with trembling hands for a minute or two before he carefully takes them in his own and gives them a squeeze. He waits until Loki looks at him before he says, “Hey. It’s okay, Loki. I’m okay.”

Loki swallows hard. Mobius sees the tears forming, feels the hands in his start to shake with the overwhelming realisation that they’re both here – that they made it – and does what he’s been aching to do since Loki’s return: he pulls him into a hug. Loki’s arms come up around him without even a hint of hesitation and his grip is bordering on desperate when he hugs him back.

“You’re okay too,” Mobius murmurs and the breath Loki sucks in at that sounds an awful lot like a sob. He tightens his hold and becomes a port in the storm as Loki relinquishes what little control he still had over his emotions.

For a while, the only sound in the sterile white room is Loki’s harsh breathing. The world has narrowed down to just the two them and some small, selfish part of Mobius wishes it could always be like this. Having Loki in his arms feels right in a way nothing ever has before in his life – at least as far as he knows. There is always the possibility he might have had this before and was forced to forget it.  

The thought makes his heart ache.

Loki lets out a shaky breath that trembles against his neck. “When I found you and you didn’t know me, I thought – I thought–“

“I know,” Mobius says softly and strokes his back. “I’m sorry.”

Loki chokes out a laugh because they both know it’s not Mobius’s fault. Then, as abruptly as a storm darkening a bright summer day, his shoulders begin to shake and he falls apart in a way Mobius has never seen before. It’s been a long time coming and more than overdue, and yet it still comes as a shock to him that Loki breaks because of him; that the idea of not finding his way back to him is what ultimately proved to be too much. Not Sylvie’s betrayal, not the potential end of the universe – the thought of losing him.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” Mobius murmurs again and again – would say it a thousand times if that’s what it took for Loki to stop feeling like his chest is being clawed open with every breath he takes. He knows better than anyone how much Loki has lost in his lifetime. There are scars on Loki’s soul he’s sure no one but him has ever seen, and he knows that some of them are still weeping even after all this time because they never got the chance to fully heal.

Mobius never thought he might add to those scars one day; that he would ever have the power to hurt Loki so deeply he would leave a mark. He never wanted that kind of hold over him. He wanted to be the person who soothed away the pain and eased the hurt, not cause more of it.

“I’m here,” he says once more and slowly, gently lowers them both to the ground. It’s not the most comfortable position for either of them but he doesn’t let go, not even when the shaking slowly lets up and Loki sags against him, exhaustion written all over his face. “I’ve got you.”

They can have this, he decides then, even though Loki’s arm is still sluggishly bleeding and he should do something about that. They deserve a moment of peace and quiet amidst the chaos. They will go back to it soon enough, will chase Sylvie across time and space and perhaps lose sight of each other again, possibly forever this time. But for now, they can hold and reassure each other that they’re both here, a little worse for wear perhaps, but gloriously alive.

“I’m tired, Mobius,” Loki whispers and hides his face in the small space between Mobius’s neck and shoulder in shame. “I’m so tired.”

He sounds so world-weary that Mobius feels his eyes burn for a second and blinks. He can’t pretend to know what it feels like to spend a thousand lifetimes running without stopping to catch his breath but thankfully, he knows exactly what to do about it.

“That’s okay,” he says softly. “We can stay here a moment longer.”

Loki sighs in relief. “Thank you.”

When he closes his eyes and relaxes against him, Mobius can feel his eyelashes brush against his skin. The touch is faint but so achingly intimate that he wishes he could hold onto it and stretch this moment into eternity.

But he can’t. He can only make the most of it so he gently rests his head against Loki’s and says, very quietly, “I’m glad you made it back.”

Blindly, Loki reaches for his hand. “So am I.”

[beatrice-otter]

#i do wonder whether a really dedicated right winger has people they allow themselves to care about like that in the first place though#not to say it universally doesnt happen lmao im not trying to dehumanize the whole lot or anything#but i do notice that tendency particularly in the christian lot to do a lot of emotional regulation on attachment#god and country above all with your family as tools for your god to use to its own ends#most people probably dont get there even when subscribing to that line of course like we are p well built to be huggy machines#but the christofash grinder is really mean to the folks caught deep in those gears#those 'mission above all else' types that really are on a mission despite how poorly thought out said mission is--tags via nonsense-and-icecream

Are there some who are “mission above all else, and give only lip-service to caring about their family and friends? Sure. But they are a small minority.

I actually know a number of dedicated right-wing Fox News watching White Christian Nationalists, and most of them are very compassionate ... to people who look, think, and act like them. If a friend or family member is in need, they will spring into action to help without thought. They will give a friend in need the shirt off their back without question.

It’s just that anybody outside their circle, anybody different, gets treated with extreme suspicion and an assumption of bad faith. People they know are Good People; people they don’t are dangerous and probably have some nefarious goal. If they don’t, they’re stupid or lazy or whatever, because if they were Smart and Good they would be just like them.*

This is where you get people like anti-abortion protesters who believe that if they or their child needs an abortion, it’s fine, but other people who get abortions are evil selfish baby-murdering sluts. They genuinely have lots of compassion ... but only for people they care about.

*You see that same attitude on the left, that all good and intelligent people agree with us and are Like Us.

stupid leftists and their belief in *checks notes* the intrinsic value of human life

[casspurrjoybell-23]

The Raven - Chapter 30

*Warning Adult Content*

"Your engagement ball will be held in two days," the queen tells her only son, the finality in her tone suggesting there is no room for compromise or debate on the subject. "I expect you to appear happy about your impending nuptials to Princess Elaina," she states, her gaze fixing firmly upon Henry's face.

The prince stares at his mother, a mixture of emotions overwhelming him entirely as he attempts to make sense of what she has just said.

"My... what?" he asks, his inquiry desperately pleading for clarification, and his voice far from the polite and proper tone his mother usually expects him to use with her.

Henry cannot begin to describe the thundering storm raging within him, every fiber of his being is suddenly electrified with fury in a way he has never heretofore known.

She has previously irritated him on several occasions, however, she has never quite ignited a flame of this severity before.

"I am quite sure that you heard what I said, Henry," his mother confirms, her anger at her son's impudence wholly apparent as she glares at him.

The look in her eye holds a warning, a promise to retaliate drastically should he try to disobey her.

"You will be announcing your engagement to Princess Elaina at the ball in two days. You will appear to be pleased about the arrangement in front of our guests," she explains, her gaze unwavering from her son's blistering expression.

Her heart aches slightly as a pang shoots through it, signifying the detestation she harbors for herself in this situation.

"You will then marry the princess at a wedding planned to her specific taste, without complaint, just a few short days after the official declaration of intent witnessed by anyone of significant status among our kingdoms at the ball."

"You cannot be serious, Mother," Henry protests, outrage flaring vividly within his clear blue eyes.

The words slip off his tongue like daggers, aimed diligently with the intent of causing harm to their target.

"What kind of mother are you? How can you so blatantly ignore my feelings on the matter as if I am nothing of significance in this absurd fantasy you have mapped out in your deranged mind? I absolutely will not marry the princess, I have already informed you of that decision, and I cannot be convinced otherwise."

"Yes," his mother replies coldly, her jaw clenched tightly to maintain her tone, she wants nothing more than to verbally erupt at Prince Henry's ridiculousness right now.

Regardless of her desire to tell her son how utterly immature and selfish he is behaving right now, she bites her tongue, there are more important things to worry about at this time.

Attempting to maintain decorum and display the uninhibited power she possesses as the queen, she continues..."

Well, apparently, you cannot be trusted to make appropriate choices. Therefore, it has been decided for you."

Henry gazes at his mother unblinkingly, his body rendered temporarily unable to move at all, even ceasing the involuntary actions that literally sustain his life.

Utter disbelief fills him as he stares at the woman before him, his eyes scrutinizing her every feature with haste and profound confusion.

She looks precisely like the woman who raised him, however, there is an aura about her that bears no resemblance to the mother he knows.

Surely, his mother would care about him even a little after all this time.

Right?

"You are out of your mind if you believe that you can make this specific choice for me," Henry murmurs, unable to keep his utter astonishment from seeping into his words.

"You will do as I say, Henry, or you will face the consequences of your disobedience and lack of propriety," Her Majesty responds, uncaring of her son's obvious distress about her choices.

Before Prince Henry can open his mouth to argue with her further, she continues..."

"Do not think that I do not know about your little escapades with the creature in the tower of the West Wing. I know about your feelings for that... thing. Surely, you would not want any harm to come to him?"

With those words, any feelings of respect or love for his mother dissipate entirely, vanishing into the air as if they never existed in the first place.

No one could speak about Caleb that way, not even Henry's own birth-giver.

How dare she not only threaten him but refer to him in such an appalling and offensive manner.

"You leave him out of this," the prince seethes, his voice filled with venom, hate for his own mother consuming him. "If you think you will get away with this, you are sorely mistaken, I will do whatever possible to prevent you from destroying the one thing I care about in this world."

"I always get what I want, Henry. It is a talent I have. Certainly, you have learned this by now?" taunts the queen, feeling not even remotely remorseful for her evidently atrocious behavior.

"Do not do anything foolish," she warns. "You will not like the repercussions."

Unable to retort back to her for fear that his own mother will harm Caleb in any way, the prince swiftly exits the room.

He does not bother to stop to speak to the princess, who excitedly tries to gain his attention as she spots him in the hall.

Storming past her, Henry can faintly hear the female's voice calling his name through the angry haze clouding his mind.

However, he pays no heed to it, he cannot be burdened to make idle small talk and polite conversation with her right now.

Slamming the door to his bedroom, the only thought on Henry's mind is his beloved Caleb.

How can he stop this unwanted and absolutely vexing wedding from going forward?

There must be a way to avoid his mother's incessant plotting.

She is undoubtedly mistaken if she believes he will willingly wed Princess Elaina, especially since he specifically told her that he would not.

He cannot, he refuses to vow himself to anyone but Caleb.

With every passing second, the prince's abhorrence for his mother increases drastically, brewing in his belly like fire in that of a dragon. How could she do this?

And how does she know about Caleb?

If she knows about their feelings for each other, why is she so adamantly trying to force a union with Princess Elaina?

Would a mother not want her child to be happy?

Henry surely could not be satisfied with anyone other than his ruby-eyed boy, of that he is certain.

Rage burns through his veins with every thought of his wicked mother and her delusions of what his life should be.

As the fire inside him continues to grow, Henry promises that she will not get away with this.

He will not only escape her dastardly plan to join him with the princess but also seek retribution for the damage she has caused him simply by not accepting him as he is.

[maskygirl55]

Role Reversal Demon Kocho Shinobu Backstory

Shinobu is searching for her sister and comes across a demon slayer to get that information from. While waiting for them to crack under the pressure of her poison she finds herself reminiscing about the past.

"I was never as kind as my sister, Kanae, not even when I was human," said the butterfly demon with a blank expression, "It's not really because I was selfish but more because I couldn't bring myself to care."

"She showed compassion and empathy to every living creature. People wondered if we were even actually sisters. I never resented her for it because I could not care less what those people thought. What mattered to me were my studies. I wanted to explore science and medication but they wouldn't let me," she sneered harshly which twisted her pale, porcelain face, "Because I was a woman. What place was I meant to have outside the home where I'd be subject to my husband's whims and care for our children."

She scoffed at the idea, "I had no interest in love, marriage and all other silly things related to it then and I find it just as foolish now. The only things I loved were my studies and my sister. This led to me rejecting many suitors despite my sister's protests. She had the right idea in the end."

"They labelled me a heartless witch and burnt me at the stake for my 'crimes'," she chuckled lightly as she continued to speak," I survived much to their misfortune and to add insult to injury, I remembered everything."

"Oyakata-sama found me on the brink of death and gave me his blood," her black sclera eyes brightened as she spoke of her master, "I was finally able to truly start living without the shackles of society weighing me down... After I got my revenge of course."

"I hunted them down one by one and made sure they regretted what they did to me. I wasn't aware at the time that Kanae was searching for me."

Her eyes dimmed once more, "She found me as I was devouring the last of them and I turned her into a demon too. However, she didn't understand the blessing he bestowed upon us and rejected this life. Now she's out there somewhere trying to kill Oyakata-sama for what he did to me. Even though she doesn't understand that he was he did helped me so much..."

Her wings fluttered as she jumped down from her spot in the tree branch. She leaned closely to the poisoned demon slayer's face with a false smile, the butterfly mark on her cheek and the cracks under her eyes more prominent.

"So in order to stop her, I'll need some information from you."

(This is more or less the idea I have in my head when I imagine Demon! Shinobu because as soon as I saw her I could never go back)

[a-wonderful-use-of-server-space]

tumblr told me a pro-Freedom Convoy post was "based on my likes" so just to make things loud & clear

The Freedom Convoy people are absolute morons who wouldn't know genuine oppression if it locked them in the gulag. Every single one of them is, at the very least, a gullible shitheel willing to do the dirty work of white nationalists and, at most, the type of neckless wonder that can't make achievements of their own so they try to cling to "racial accomplishments". If you support them, just fuckin' block me now. They are the loudest voice in the room and they have not said a single thing worth the effort.

[nomadmilk]

“Selfish” - Hawks x F!Reader

A/N: I honestly needed this today eheheh. Thank you for allowing me into your collab, Marquie!! I've been wanting to write homelife fluff for a while on Hawks, so thank you💛💛💛And HAPPY BIRTHDAY🎂🎉🎂 If you enjoy fluff and domestic life with your faves, there are other amazing creators with their spin on it on the masterlist below!

Event: “Domestic Daydream” Collab [MDNI]

Presented by: @mindninjax

Rating: M/18+

“The Hero that goes too fast just needs to slow down sometimes. Luckily, you’re there by his side to remind him of that. He wants to thank you for being with him, dealing with him for so long, and he has a few ideas to show you how much he really appreciates you...”

Warnings: Slow Burn-ish to Smut, Established Relationship, Married Life, HouseWife!Reader, Hawks is handsy and clingy, Teasing, Oral sex (Female receiving), Pussy drunk Hawks is best Hawks, Praise!Kink, Overstimulation, Fluff

Words: 3.3K

"Lemme' cook tonight." was what he declared. He gave you no second to protest, his feathers lifting you away from the kitchen.

You slumped into the couch, obediently awaiting for his call with swift glances to the doorway. Your wondering eyes direct themselves to the wall that separated you and your husband, the smell of sweet tomato wafting from his direction. You could hear distant sizzles of a pan, and every so often Keigo would yelp, or curse softly as he kisses his teeth.

It was rare that Keigo ever cooked, or cared about it so intricately. You doubted the Commission ever gave a manual on what an al dente pasta would be like. Nor did they ever teach him how to work a stove and oven. But he seemed determined to prove the both of you wrong today, coming back home from work earlier than expected, just as you were about to prep for dinner.

You could see it in all in your head, even though he's out of your peripheral; his lips pursed, and his messy blond eyebrows are furrowed as he stares at a pot of boiling water - another stove on and heating up right next to it, and a pan spitting oil. The smells overwhelm him, and for a moment he'll wonder if he added too much - or too little - of anything.

By the time you arrived at the dinner table, the beautifully plated spaghetti laid in front of you with a faint trail of steam swirling above it.

And, Keigo sat with his own close to you, a content pride resting on his face. "Enjoy, mio bambino."

You try not get caught in his spell. "I-is there something we're celebrating? Did you get a one-up on the Hero charts, or-"

"Nah, just wanted to cook tonight, that's all." He says with a risen brow, spinning his food with a fork. "Wanted some Italian after flying past a pizzeria - reminded me of a date we had."

"So, we're having pasta?" You comment. "And... Not ordering pizza?"

A laugh bursts from his chest. "Disappointing, I know."

"And seriously not what I expected from you." Although, the pasta tasted delicious...

He clears his throat. "You'll find I'm full of surprises, sweetheart. Especially for tonight."

For tonight?

Your eyes narrow, speculating his words, watching him chow down onto his food with a quiet thought. You know your husband; he's good at distracting you. Good at hiding his intentions, no matter if it was a professional, or personal, ordeals. Evading questions with his teasing, and sugary pet names that made you look away in frustration. Treats you to fancy meals spontaneously in the afternoons. Always a step ahead of you when you're doing something as straightforward as laundry; feathers pinging from his wings just to be clips on a clothing line... All in an effort, to hedge bad news.

But there was something marginally different about him.

You reach out for his hand, just to give it a quick squeeze, but he keeps you in his grasp as he eats, thumb lightly grazing the top of your knuckles.

"A-are you okay? Do you wanna' talk about something?" You ask after swallowing another bite, feeling wary. "Did something happen at work? We don't need to talk right now if you don't want to. I just wanna' help however I can..."

His attention is on you; nervousness creasing your forehead. His gaze flitting back and forth from the concern in your eyes, to your lower lip being faintly bitten by your teeth like you were withholding another sentence, or trying to stop yourself from saying too much. The amber of his eyes soften, pupils full and irises dimmed like golden hours.

He tries to not stare at you for too long, pushing his chair back and getting onto his feet. He lets go of your hand.

"I'm gonna' run a bath for the both of us after this." He says. "Think' it's been a while since we took one together."

"Oh? The both of us?" You blink some more, your thoughts processing much more slowly at the suggestion. "... I-I mean, w-we had a bath together last week..."

"What? Doesn't mean we can't have another." He states, a velvet tenor layering his voice. "Just indulge me. Please?"

The warmth of the bathtub was enough to make Keigo drowsy, muscles softening and releasing tension as his skin delves into the soapy water; any breeze of the bitter cold could be non-existent to him. His cerise feathers were part soaked from the lavender water, and part damp from the steam creating condensation on the tiles. The tips of his tresses wet and stringy, and stray baby hairs attached onto the frame of his face, moisture keeping them there.

"Why are you takin' a long time? You comin' in, or what?" He beckons you to him. "Bathtub's gettin' cold without you in here."

He's impatient, like a child. Pouts, like a child. A trio of feathers aid you in discarding your clothes. It's awkward the way your jeans scrunch around your ankles, and how your bra seems to cling as you unclasp it from your chest. It's like your clothes were trying to be difficult to take off your body.

But Keigo's golden gaze never leaves, it's almost intimidating how intense they are; half-lidded and swimming with a gloss like he was under an aphrodisiac. An eager smile stretches across his lips as he watches you strip in front of him, your nude figure being exposed part-by-part with every piece of clothing you take off. His hands are tempted towards you, reaching out to grab you by the thighs, and neck stretching up to nestle close to your most intimate parts. Fingers traced your sides, squishing the flesh he knows makes you stammer, too sly for his own good to let your scolding stop him. It flusters you, batting him away; the hum of his chuckle sends tingles onto your skin.

You eventually join him in the depths of the water with a mask of annoyance and a muddled mind, your body seeming small against his as you slot yourself close to him. You're too dizzy with the fragrance of flowers soothing your thoughts; too dizzy with the way he caressed you, and he smiles and brushes it off like it's nothing...

He laughs some more at your irritation, drinking in your cute glare. "You okay, my love?"

And there he goes with the pet names. "I'm fine. J-just turn around a little so I can scrub..."

He gives you an innocent peck on the lips; you grumble in return. "Yes, ma'am."

The sudsy water wades as he twists his torso slightly, your hands tending to his scalp with a touch he goes blank from, and creating foam from the circles your fingers draw. He exhales like he's been cured, realising how dainty - how cute - your hands are as they scrub the dirt, and scuff marks, from the day's patrols off of him with delicacy.

You could see the scars on his neck. The many sears, and shades and patches of skin on his arms were discolored from healed injuries, and medicinal creams you've applied that he refused to keep track of.

"Ahck!-" He hisses, feeling a sting. "Is that a-"

"You gotta' wound here - it's not too bad, but I think I'll patch it up just in case..." Your brows knit, your face contorted into concern again. "Did you not go to the med-bays? We talked about this, Keigo - you need to see a nurse every shift."

"I know." He says, reluctantly. "I will next time."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

You're focused on his skin, oblivious to his fixated stare on you.

Sometimes Keigo can notice when you're beat. Admittedly, it does take him a couple of seconds at first; a good inspection of your facial expression, if the tone of your voice was lower or breathier, or if your eyes didn't have that sparkle. He's almost envious that you could still be so beautiful with it all - with a nose he just wants to kiss in chaste, and a pair of eyes he just wants on him at all times.

Between the two of you, it was much more difficult to tell when you were tired. But, if he searches closely enough, he could anticipate it before you crashed.

"You had a long day?"

You nod; a yawn escaping from you as he asks.

He pauses, distracted, and mind going blank from the way your pupils dilated. "Can you do somethin' for me?"

"Mmn. What do you need?"

"Do you trust me?"

"I married you, ya' big bird - what d'you think?"

"Hm..." He smirks, eyes raking your naked form. "When you get outta' the tub, get into bed. Just as you are."

"Y'mean-"

"Wear nothin' - I wanna' see all of you tonight..."

You're a little nervous obeying Keigo's commands. You still couldn't figure out what he was up to.

He spent a while longer in the bathroom as you got yourself ready; the towel you were using slightly damp from clearing all the droplets of water that was left on you.

Still on your own, you crawl onto the bed and lie on your front as ordered by your husband; your body easily molds with the mattress, the side of your face cradled into the pillows. The sheets feel fluffier than usual, and you could feel your eyelids falling regardless of Keigo's direction.

It isn't long until you feel his presence, the door latching shut as he joins you.

You don't hear a word, just a purr of approval - admiration.

There's something slippery rubbing into your supple back, causing his coarse hands to maintain a temperate heat, and glide a light compression up the curve of your spine, thumbs pushing onto the tautness of your upper back.

The liquid is slender in density, and it spreads and thins, excess trickling down your sides that he smoothly catches back onto his fingers, not wasting a bead as he presses them onto the nape of your neck, and along your shoulders.

A soft whimper catches his ears. "You' likin' this, my lil' hummingbird?"

"M-hm..." You mumble.

"Good... Now, tell me where you want me..."

You forget how strong he is sometimes. Most of his power and focus goes into training his quirk to perfection, ensuring his body has enough stamina and endurance in drawn out fights. All that experience was going into the massage he was providing for you; the way his hands seem to know where to hit the right spots before you could even correct him, the tips of his fingers expertly digging into the flesh that felt tense, and made you settle into the marshmallow of your bed further.

Even with your eyes closed, you could see the flex of his muscles, the way he maneuvered around the bed and your body to not disturb you; only gently tapping your calf to shift his weight, and position himself between your legs to take care of the rest of your body. What he lacks in strength, he makes up in his tact. Even when your whispers are reduced to hushed gibberish, he knows where to place them.

"I was trying to think of a way to thank you..." Keigo plants a kiss on the corner of your forehead, waking you an inch off of deep slumber, vision bleary from about an hour of his hands practically all over you. Drunk from pure relaxation. Your body was oiled up, dispersing into your muscles and making them tender, alleviated. "... I could have treated you to a spa day, but the thought of someone touching you this way makes me a lil' jealous..."

You giggle; it's croaky due to your tiredness. "Thank me? For, what?"

"Just... Wanting to be with me. Despite everything..." He sighs, hands descending low onto the outline of your waist, then onto your hips... "... Choosing me even if it meant late nights waiting to have dinner with me... Or worrying you almost every day if I've been hurt in any way... Or even just helping me de-tangle my feathers... Just wanna' show you how much I appreciate everything.."

So, that's what it was... You recollect the evening; the dinner, the bathing. Every so often within the week, you would help and preen his wings - it was the last thing before bed; a snooze button for his brain. They were routine for you. Things you've done since moving in together. Since marriage. Daily tasks you had forgotten into simple habits. Details you've memorised to make his day a little bit easier.

Your thoughts are cut off as you feel his hands wrap themselves and grip your ass, fingers clutching around the plush so nicely and comfortably-

Your eyes widen. "Hey-!"

"What? You're pretty naive for not expecting that..." His voice drops an octave, like a rumble in his throat. "Fuck, you look gorgeous, baby..."

His thumb slips in between your inner thighs, back arching, and hips instinctively rising up to him as he spreads you open to him with no hesitation. You attempt to hide your skewed reaction of embarrassment, nose no longer burying into your pillow and glancing behind you, antsy with where his skillful hands will travel next.

He ravishes every inch of you with his lips, carelessly biting down on your ass, and letting his fangs graze the fat of it. He grabs a handful of you, squeezing hard enough to make you yelp from the short pain, and your lashes flutter shut. You whimper at how close he gets to your clit, fingers just about brushing it. Your hips attempt to dip and grind into the softness of the sheets, huffing when Keigo doesn't allow that satisfaction to come to you.

You feel his touch drag against your folds, thumb teasing your hole as he rubs the puffy lips that cover it, juices seeping, and making his mouth water at the sight of it. You'd been so pliant under him, body so calm that it became sensitive to his appetite. Wiggling your butt as if you were begging for him to keep going. The sheets wrinkled within your grasp.

"Hm? Y'wanna' play a little more, pretty bird?" He tuts. He'd be in denial if he wasn't enjoying himself, watching your face contort as if a whine was gonna' come out of it any second. "Wanna' show you how much you mean to me..."

He hooks a forearm underneath your stomach, hoisting you onto your knees, your top half sinking into cushion, and your toes keening at his mouth kissing your lower lips.

"Y'want me to play with this pretty pussy of yours, Mrs Takami?"

You feel your walls twitch at the title, hot air silken against your sticky folds. "Please. Y-yes, please..."

It reached midnight, and you were covered in sweat. Heartbeat drumming, and the only thing your mind could comprehend was Keigo, and his large arms tucking your thighs close to the sides of his head, after flipping you onto your back so effortlessly in your dazed state. His tongue still lapping, mouth still pressed against your cunt uninterrupted. You're breathless, throat dry from all the panting and crying he'd made you suffer through. Everything felt lucid, blissful, fervent. The room felt stuffy, yet cosy. The world glazed over with a lustful blur.

Keigo can go for hours between your legs. He jokes about it sometimes, claiming that his second home will always be there, that exact position, where he gets an eyeful of your oozing cunt, and a front row seat to all the flustered looks of your adorable face. He'd say it front of work colleagues if he could, especially just to see you melt into humiliation with the truth of his words. He was proving more than he needed to, too intoxicated by your scent to keep count of the number of times he's said thank you on your body; your nipples stiff into pebbles after nursing them with suckles and love bites, your slick flowing down his chin and trickling down the bump on his throat with a sheen.

He waits until the very last minute, when you feel the emptiest, and need that tight space to be filled. The mixture of your arousal and the oil, easily sliding his fingers into the heat, and curl onto that spot he knows will catch your breath, cause you to wail for a break - for just a short moment - just to take a breather- a strained mewl leaving your chest-

Your hands try to push his head away, but he doesn't budge.

Tongue flicking your clit, and massaging it. You hear him swallow your nectar; licking it up like icing on a cake. Devours your pussy with a groan when you feel that tension coiling, knowing that stuffing his mouth with your cunt was the only thing to relieve yourself.

And he was happy to oblige - over, and over, and over, again.

"Look’ so pretty when you cum - so fuckin' sexy when you scream my name- n’ y’makin’ me drown with how wet you are f’me...” He’s relentless, showering you with compliments. “So sweet, aren’tcha, beautiful?... Can't get enough of you n’ how fuckin' good you taste..."

His cock was in pain, pre-cum leaking off the tip. And he was sure he came after your third orgasm. But his own pleasure didn't matter, didn't keep his attention as much as you had been. His words only praises of how good you've been under him, encouraging you just to hold on a little longer for more-

"Shit, mmn- Stop, I can't 'nymore, Keigo-! S' too- Shit. Oh, fuck- ohfuck-"

Your breathing gradually staggers at the contact, your saccharine scent takes over his taste buds for one last time, clouds his head with nothing but your moans cracking in that pitch that's like a song he can listen to on repeat...

You feel his body rest beside you, surprised that he was exhausted himself. His chest heaves at a different time; rising and falling in a different pattern, but keeping to the rhythm of yours...

You let out a small laugh. "You're such an idiot..."

Keigo frowns. "Huh? Why'd you say that?"

"All of that just to tell me you're just being grateful." You comment, amused. "Here I was worried that you were gonna' tell me some bad news-"

"What?"

"Like - I dunno' - you're going on another life-or-death mission, or you finished up the Nutella downstairs-"

It was his turn to laugh, fatigue not stopping his head from throwing back slightly. "You really think all of this would be me tryin' to soften the blow on a missing Nutella jar?"

"You came back home just wanting to do everything!-"

"I mean, the life-or-death thing is plausible-"

"See! And you weren't saying anything, either! What was I supposed to think?"

"Oh, right..." His body turns to you, arms draping around your waist, as he composes himself to a grin. "M' not good with words most of the time. I'd rather show you what I feel - words lose their meaning after a while."  

"From anyone else, yes... From you, it won't."

His head perks up. "Oh? So you'd rather a borin' 'thank you' card from me, than eatin' your-"

You nudge him in the rib with your elbow. "You know what I mean, Keigo. Next time, just-... Just tell me straight away rather than being all mysterious about it..."

"Hmm..." He nods in understanding. "Okay... How about this?..."

Before you could shift to face him, he leans into your ear. Fingers trace your abdomen, and you could feel the intensity of irises, voice gravelly even though he speaks in a whisper. You could feel the back of your neck on fire, a fever burning as you hear his words.

It silences you completely, and you try to collect yourself.

"Th-that's fine..." You murmur.

[truly-fantastic-me]

You know what? Fuck it. I'm posting it. It's aro-spec week and I feel like flipping off arophobes today. For context, Haylie is that oc I talked about in this post. So without further ado...

Amatonormativity Sucks!

"If I have to hear one more word about how 'wonderful' romance is from that threehorn's mouth, I'm going to peck her eye out!"

"If I have to hear one more word about how 'wonderful' romance is from that threehorn's mouth, I'm going to peck her eye out!"

Haylie plopped down on the cavern floor, groaning, bone-tired and ready to crawl under the dirt and never be perceived again.

Pterano looked at her, concerned and understanding. He knew how she felt. Even long after his banishment ended, he still felt that way about romance. Clearly, it wasn't selfishness like he once thought.

"I certainly know how that feels, dear. Tree sweet?” he offered, passing her a large, red fruit he pulled from a tree earlier.

She took it and bit into it immediately. “What does it take to get it through other people’s thick skulls that I don’t desire a relationship?? I mean, seriously! What more do I have to do? Put on a show for them?!”

“That’s fair, let it out.”

“And another thing! I get that they can’t immediately read my past, but not everyone has the privilege of coming from healthy relationships, you know? Would it kill them to keep other possibilities in mind? Being with Dyl scarred me for life! Why should I fly straight into another relationship after all that?? That sounds like a stupid idea!” She whirled her head towards Pterano. “Does that sound like a stupid idea to you?”

Pterano resisted the urge to talk about the one-track mindedness of threehorns, knowing that was more of a stereotype than anything else. “In your case, most certainly.” He validated, perching next to her. “It sounds to me like Tria has triggered you.”

She halted, wanting to protest that statement, but she knew Pterano was right. She rolled her eyes, curled up, and turned away from him. Trauma was a real bitch and a half.

“I… can relate to what you’re feeling. I’ve always thought my lack of attraction was a character flaw in me. In my youth, I thought it was a weakness that needed to be cured. A few years ago, I thought it was a manifestation of my own selfishness. But no matter what I did, no matter how much I regretted my past and tried to make up for it, my lack of attraction remained. It honestly wasn’t until I met you that I realized it was a part of me.” She turned back to him, and he continued. “My father used to berate me for my condition. Said that it was because I… somehow didn’t want to continue the species. When that was what I wanted more than anything. To keep my bloodline alive, to pass on my genes to the next generation. He said I wanted to keep them to myself.”

“It sounds like your father did a number on you,” Haylie stated, placing a compassionate hand on his wing.

“I suppose he did a lot more damage than I initially thought.” He gazed down on the ground for a moment, tempted to go on. But the moment was about Haylie initially and he didn’t want to take that away from her. “Anyway, we were talking about you. What was it about what Tria said that triggered you?”

“She said I’d find somebody. Said I’d find somebody who would love me. She doesn’t know anything about my past, but I can’t help but equate that word with mistreatment. That’s all Dill would ever say to me after a fight with him. He’d just say ‘I love you,’ and act as though nothing happened.”

“Oh dear…” Sounds like something my old self would do, Pterano thought to himself. “I’m terribly sorry. That’s not going to happen here. I will do all I can to ensure that it doesn’t.” He lifted his wing, offering an embrace. She scooted towards him, leaning against him, allowing his wing to drape over her shoulders. “If I do something, you are more than welcome to call me out on it when you can. I promise, I won’t be offended, nor try anything to hide from accountability. In fact, I feel like I need accountability more than most, eheh.” He laughed nervously.

She didn’t say anything in return, just leaned against him and closed her eyes.

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

if only to be near you

A/N: my second contribution to @astriexxe‘s flower husbands advent series! i swear for my last prompt i will post it earlier in the day askdfkl, time got away from me haha. anyway, here's day 12 with the prompt "lake!" title is from the song "My Heart With You," particularly the Pentatonix version!

Warnings: self-confidence issues, self-worth issues, touch-starvation, flirting, panic (both the gay variety and the regular kind), hand holding

Summary: Jimmy tries to convince Scott that his ice powers aren't as bad as he thinks. Scott is unwilling to believe it at first- but things work out better than expected.

AO3 Link

-

Scott wasn’t sure how Jimmy managed to drag him outside. He had planned to hide away in his home so that he couldn’t hurt anyone, but then Jimmy smiled bright as the sun and suddenly Scott found himself following Jimmy (at a safe distance). He led him to a lake on the outskirts of Rivendell- the one he had initially froze. The icy patches were still there, and Scott cringed a bit at the snow and ice spikes that had spread onto the once fresh green grass. Jimmy was still grinning blindingly bright, and while Scott usually loved the sight of his smile, something about it made his insides twist with anxiety. Why was Jimmy bringing him to a place of his mistakes? And why was he smiling about it?

“Jimmy, why are we here?” Scott asked, wings held tightly against his back as he tried to shrink in on himself. Jimmy frowned for a moment, reaching out to Scott- then stopped when Scott flinched away, and gave him a small, understanding smile. Scott hated having to stay away from Jimmy. He was so close, Scott could take the extra steps to reach out and touch him, to let Jimmy comfort him and hold him close- but he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t hurt Jimmy because of his own selfish want for closeness.

“Well, you seem to think your powers are the end of the world,” Jimmy started, speaking gently.

“They are,” Scott huffed. Jimmy let out a soft, exasperated sigh.

“They don’t have to be. They’re only bad if you let them be bad,” Jimmy said, stepping aside and gesturing at the lake. Scott looked at the partially frozen lake with a grimace. He turned to look back at Jimmy with blatant confusion.

“I don’t understand,” Scott said, trying to keep panic and irritation from creeping into his tone.

“Freeze the lake more!” Jimmy said with what was probably meant to be an encouraging smile, but all it did was make Scott’s stomach drop.

“You want me to freeze it more?! Why?!” Scott asked, voice coming out more shrill than he meant it to as he subconsciously backed further away from Jimmy.

“Cause it’s pretty! Plus there’s not enough ice to skate on right now,” Jimmy explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Scott blinked in absolute bafflement.

“You think the ice is- can you even skate?!” Scott asked incredulously.

“Well, no- but how am I supposed to learn if you don’t get a move on!” Jimmy said with an encouraging smile.

“But I can’t make things melt yet!” Scott protested.

“Then we’ll always have a place to skate until you do figure out how to melt it!” Jimmy replied with unrelenting optimism.

“Jimmy…” Scott trailed off uncertainly.

“Oh c’mon, it’ll be fun! And pretty, like I said! It’ll match you- I uh. I mean your empire! All… elegant and clean and bright and pretty. Yeah,” Jimmy rambled. Scott’s face tinged pink at the way Jimmy stumbled over his words when he called Scott pretty by mistake. Because surely that had to be a mistake. Right? He covered that comment up pretty quickly, after all. But all the same… Scott did feel a little better about his ice magic when he heard Jimmy talk about it.

So with a deep breath, Scott stepped out onto the lake. The water froze beneath him as he walked, and instead of wincing at it like he usually did, Scott tried his best to admire the patterns of frost that spiralled out beneath his feet- and maybe Jimmy was right. The ice was pretty, maybe his magic wasn’t all that bad after all. He found a smile creeping over his face as he turned to face Jimmy again. Jimmy was staring at him with an awestruck expression.

“Beautiful,” Jimmy breathed out, and Scott’s face turned pink again- but that was probably just the cold, right?

“I uh. Yeah, the frost is kinda pretty,” Scott managed to get out, feeling a little embarrassed at the attention. Jimmy jolted, his face flushing slightly (he must have been cold too).

“R-right! The ice. Very pretty,” Jimmy replied, voice slightly strained and sounding as embarrassed as Scott felt. Deciding not to dwell on the awkward moment any longer than necessary, Jimmy stepped out onto the ice with Scott. He initially slipped a little, but managed to catch himself.

“Jimmy, I don’t know if-”

“It’ll be fine! Just gotta get the hang of- oh!” Jimmy’s sentence cut off with a yelp as he stepped on a section of ice that wasn’t as solid as the rest, and it suddenly gave way under his weight. Horrified, Scott watched as Jimmy suddenly disappeared beneath the surface of the water. With a gasp, Scott instinctively rushed forward to help- only for his steps to spread the ice back over. What had he just done?! Now he had frozen Jimmy beneath the ice, and he couldn’t melt it, and anything he would do would just freeze the lake more- and sure Jimmy was part fish, but the icy water would surely kill him and it’d be all his fault-

Scott’s internal panic was cut off by the sound of rushing water, and he turned around just in time to see Jimmy leap up out of an unfrozen part of the lake with his trident. He landed on the ice in a crouch in front of Scott, water streaming down him in rivulets. He stood up, and Scott caught himself staring at the way Jimmy’s tunic clung to his chest before he forced his gaze up to his face with a shake of his head. Luckily, Jimmy didn’t seem to notice, too busy wringing the water out of his cloak.

“Bit of a chilly swim, guess I should be a bit more careful where I step,” Jimmy said with a chuckle. Scott startled slightly, remembering that Jimmy had just taken a dip in freezing cold water and wasn’t even shivering.

“Aeor above- we need to get you inside and into dry clothes before you get hypothermia,” Scott said with an undertone of panic, wanting nothing more then to pull Jimmy close and wrap him in his wings to warm him up- but with his ice magic, Scott would only make things worse.

“Scott, I’m part cod. I’m fine,” Jimmy said, sounding a bit exasperated.

“Being a fish doesn’t make you impervious to hypothermia!” Scott said, the panic giving way to full-on hysteria. Jimmy looked at Scott with a baffled expression.

“Scott, cod don’t freeze. It’s something in our blood- I literally don’t get all that cold,” Jimmy explained with a laugh.

“You- but- but what if magic ice is different!” Scott protested. Jimmy sighed, giving him a gentle smile.

“You didn’t hurt me, Scott. Your magic isn’t bad, and neither are you. Besides, it’s not that often I get to show off my trident skills like that,” Jimmy said with a shrug. That last statement startled a laugh out of Scott, and Jimmy’s smile grew bright at the sound.

“It was… kind of impressive,” Scott conceded with a sigh.

“I don’t think that was the only thing you found impressive,” Jimmy said with a teasing lilt to his voice and a smirk. Scott felt his face burn bright once again. So Jimmy had definitely noticed him staring at his chest. Great.

“I uh. You sure you don’t want to change into dry clothes?” Scott asked in a squeak.

“I mean, you certainly seem to be enjoying the view… but the wet clothes are kind of uncomfortable,” Jimmy said with a chuckle. Scott was dying, he was dead, onto the afterlife. Scott made flirtatious comments all the time, how could he barely function when Jimmy made similar comments towards him?!

“I’m sure I’ve got something here that will work for you,” Scott offered, keeping his gaze anywhere but on Jimmy as he walked back to the lakefront. Jimmy quickly followed after Scott- and Scott didn’t comment on how much closer he was to Scott than before.

“It’d probably be cozier too, Rivendell wool and all,” Jimmy replied, keeping pace beside Scott. He wanted to reach out and take Jimmy’s hand more than anything- but he couldn’t risk it. Anti-freezing blood or not.

“Was this all a ploy to steal my clothes? Cute,” Scott teased, trying to get back to their usual dynamic and ignoring the way he longed to reach out and touch Jimmy.

“No, but I’m not complaining about the results,” Jimmy replied with a soft laugh, making the decision for Scott and grabbing his hand as they continued to walk. Jimmy’s hand was warm, so different from the cold he had now accustomed himself to. His heart was racing, but Jimmy didn’t instantly tear his hand away- Scott wasn’t hurting him. He wasn’t hurting him! He could be close to someone again. Or at least to Jimmy. Which in the end, was what mattered most to Scott.

-

general mcyt taglist (ask to be added so you’re tagged when i post mcyt fic!): @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @meowdy-pickles @space-ace123 @vyeoh