#but like barely and it's in BW but still

[nekrosmos]

Gortash's favorite attack dog <3

Spine, my durge, goes by He/They/It !

[goldensunset]

Ough... N absolutely does have some kind of trauma bond to Ghetsis or he at least has a lot of complex feelings about his relationship to him. I know how much you like blorbo essays and I've got a lot to say about this so I'll come back to this in full someday. But Pokemon Masters is such a huge help in characterizing their relationship more. The second Ghetsis expresses a (false) desire to be family with N, N starts referring to him as "father" again and it's used interchangeably with his name.

And when forming a team with both Ghetsis and N on it, N will say that he still has hope for Ghetsis.

He desperately wants Ghetsis to change and he hopes they can be family some day.

He, logically, is probably very aware that Ghetsis will never change but there's a part of him that wants it to happen anyways, no matter how impossible it is.

auhhughghghguhhhhgghhhh yeahhhhhh….. the pokemas dialogue…… he tries so hard in vain time and time again………..

[ethanharmonia]

can i get a (B2W2) Nate??

also your interpretation of Blake is so neat! he looks like he'd taste like broken glass candy /vpos

WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BROKEN GLASS CANDY😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

also heres Nathan 🕺🏻(in my AU version, i havent drawn him in a long time wat da hell)

I UnNate-ified him, MUAHAHAHHAHAHHAA

traumatised men are my favourite (mans 28 in this AU)

Fun fact for those that didnt know, Nate is Ethan's adoptive younger brother!!! :D

Those two arent related but they have a very nice brotherly bond together :]

They have a lot in common btw btw, 1. Both traumatised, 2. Both their biological parents died and have been adopted by Red and Blue, 3. Both of them have fire starters MUAHAHAHA, 4. They will beat someone to death, 5. They have marriage issues with their own husbands 😔

[redroomreflections]

Before Sunrise - A Family Of Her Own Series

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A Family of Her Own Series

3/7

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 3.3k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha has a secret family. Set during the BW films. She brings her Red Room family to meet them. She has a moment with her daughter.

Part 3 of many more.

Just like the night, the house was quiet in the early hours of the morning, the kind of stillness that only comes before the world wakes up. Natasha moved quietly through the hallway, her bare feet making no sound on the wooden floor. Despite being away so often, she knew her daughter’s rhythms like second nature—how Stella always woke up just before the first hint of sunlight touched the horizon.

As she pushed open the door to Stella’s bedroom, the soft creak of the hinges sounded louder in the silence, but it didn’t disturb the little girl. The room was painted like an aquarium, deep blues and greens swirling together, with playful fish and, of course, a giant shark on one wall. Stella’s obsession with sharks had taken over every part of her imagination, but despite the ocean theme, she had recently begged for a new princess-style bed set, complete with pink sheets and a tiara-shaped pillow.

Natasha smiled faintly as she took it all in, her heart tugging at the juxtaposition of her daughter’s fierce fascination with predators of the sea and her innocent love for all things sparkly and soft.

She quietly made her way to the rocking chair tucked in the corner, the same one she had rocked Stella in as an infant. Natasha eased herself into the chair, making sure her movements were slow and deliberate.

Sitting there she let her eyes trace over Stella’s small sleeping frame. Her daughter looked so peaceful, her soft breaths steady and uneven. This was the quiet Natasha craved. The moments when everything felt so simple.

The ticking of a clock was the only sound, rhythmic and soothing. Natasha knew Stella would stir soon, her internal clock always waking her before the first light of day. That was part of why she had come in early—to be here, to sit with her daughter before the day inevitably pulled her back into the chaos she couldn’t seem to escape. Even if she couldn’t always be present, she wanted to savor these moments, the ones where she could just watch over her without needing to rush off to fight someone else’s battles.

But as she sat there, a familiar ache settled in her chest. Being gone so much meant missing out on these quiet mornings. The guilt gnawed at her, especially now, watching how peaceful Stella looked. Remembering how excited Stella looked to see her just yesterday morning made her want to call all of this off. Leave Tony to deal with the mess they created. It would be too selfish.

Natasha allowed herself to settle into the rocking chair, peace finding her once again, and she closed her eyes. The familiar rustling of blankets caused her to open them again. Stella stirs against her blankets before sitting up. She sways gently, fighting whatever sleep calls to her, as she surveys the room. She rubs tiredly at her eyes.

“Mommy,” She calls out for you. Though you wouldn’t come. Not when Natasha asked for this morning alone with your daughter.

“I’m here, love,” Natasha says softly.

Stella turns to her, and even in the dimness of the room, she can make out her features—the slight smile that spreads across her face. It seems she forgot that Natasha was home.

“You real?” Stella asks.

Natasha chuckles.

It was a game they had played before. In the middle of the night when Stella would wake from a bad dream, sometimes she would think she was in the past, her mind playing tricks on her.

“I am real,” Natasha nods.

Stella crawls across her bed and onto her knees. She leans forward, reaching out to cup her cheek. She squishes it with her tiny hands and grins.

Natasha reaches out and takes hold of Stella.

“Mama’s home,” Stella whispered as she pressed herself deeper into Natasha’s arms.

Natasha presses her lips to the top of Stella’s head.

Stella curls closer to Natasha, a sigh leaving her. Natasha rocks her back and forth until her breathing steadies out and her body relaxes.

“I love you,” Natasha whispers.

“Mama?” Stella looks up at her with big brown eyes. Natasha studies the features of her daughter. She hums, letting her know she is listening.

Stella shifts in her lap, pressing her nose into her neck.

Natasha closes her eyes and holds her tight.

“Are you going on another airplane?” Stella asks. Of course, most of it sounds like gibberish as she is only two and developing a vocabulary but Natasha understands it nonetheless.

She sighs heavily and kisses the top of her head.

Natasha didn't want to tell her, didn't want her to have to go through the process of waiting for her mom to return.

“Not today,” Natasha answers.

“I don‘t want you to go on any more airplanes,” Stella shakes her head. “I just want you to be my Mama and stay home.”

Natasha feels tears prickle in her eyes. The little girl snuggled into her mother’s chest, unaware of the storm she’d just stirred.

Natasha squeezed her, her grip firm yet tender, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her throat tightened, and for the first time in a long while, she felt completely helpless. She rocked them back and forth, trying to maintain the rhythm, as if that could soothe both of them, as if the gentle motion could drown out the ache in her chest.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Each rock of the chair was an attempt to hold herself together, but Natasha could feel the cracks widening. The words repeated in her head, tearing through her defenses. I just want you to be my Mama and stay home.

She had faced down armies, survived impossible missions, but this—this tiny request from her daughter—felt like a blow she couldn’t recover from.

The tears prickled in her eyes, stinging with the weight of everything she couldn’t say. The truth, the life she lived, the constant leaving—it all flashed through her mind, and for the first time, it felt like she had failed at the one thing that truly mattered. How could she explain to Stella that being Mama wasn’t something she could always do? That her other life—the one filled with danger and sacrifice—wasn’t something she could walk away from, even if it meant breaking her daughter’s heart?

Stella pulled back just slightly, her wide eyes staring up at Natasha, waiting for an answer, for reassurance that Mama would stay.

But Natasha couldn’t lie. Not to her. Not to this little girl who looked at her like she was her entire world. The lump in her throat grew, and she felt the sting of tears pressing harder, threatening to spill over.

“Oh, baby…” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

She kept rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth.

But no matter how much she rocked, the ache wouldn’t go away. Stella didn’t understand why Natasha left, why she couldn’t be like other mothers who stayed home and tucked their children into bed every night. And how could she? Natasha had crafted a life of secrecy and danger, one that her daughter couldn’t begin to fathom.

The silence between them stretched, broken only by the soft creak of the chair and the quiet sniffle from Stella, who had already nestled back into Natasha’s arms. Natasha kissed the top of her head, holding her as close as she could, as if holding her tight enough might somehow make up for all the times she couldn’t be there.

But it wouldn’t.

And for the first time in a long time, Natasha let the tears fall. Not because she was scared, not because she was angry, but because she finally let herself feel the weight of what she had sacrificed. She could take down enemies and save the world, but she couldn’t protect her daughter from the one thing she longed for most—her mother.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

She rocked them both, knowing that no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t promise Stella what she truly needed. She could only be there for this moment, holding on for as long as she could, before the world would pull her away again.

And in that moment, Natasha felt like the biggest idiot for ever believing she could balance both worlds without breaking something—without breaking someone.

“Mama, why you not talking?” Stella asks, the confusion on her face reminding Natasha so much of you.

She smiles sadly and presses her lips to the top of her head, inhaling deeply.

She was here, holding her, and even though it wasn't forever, she would soak up every moment.

“I’m sorry,” It leaves her lips in a broken mess. One Stella doesn’t catch. “I’m sorry for leaving you.”

Stella doesn't say anything, her fingers clutching tighter around her neck.

Natasha sighs deeply, her fingers brushing softly over the crown of her head.

Natasha swallows tightly. “You’re my baby and I love you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stella nods. “Mommy tells me that every day.”

Natasha nods, her lips pulling into a smile.

Her fingers curl into the hem of her shirt and Natasha leans forward.

She closes her eyes, trying to hold onto the moment for just a little longer.

“It’s almost my birthday and then I’m going to be three,” Stella reminds her. “So big. Right? I’m even taller right now.”

Natasha nods, opening her eyes, watching the way her daughter wiggles and moves, showing her height.

Stella stops moving, her eyes widening.

Natasha blinks back tears but doesn't look away.

“Mommy says I need a haircut soon,” Stella grips tendrils of brown hair before dropping her hand. “I want my hair to be like Rapunzel.”

Natasha lets out a watery laugh.

Her daughter was so beautiful and innocent.

Natasha presses her face against the top of Stella's head, the scent of her strawberry shampoo filling her nose.

“Mama, did you see my baby brother? He was sick yesterday but Mommy takes good care of him,” Stella reminds her.

“Your Mommy always takes good care of you both,” Natasha says. Stella simply chuckles. She agrees.

“Can we go eat breakfast now?” Stella asks her.

Natasha lets out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head at her daughter.

Natasha sets Stella on her hip, standing slowly from the rocking chair.

She carries her down the hallway towards the kitchen. They could eat breakfast together.

next part

[pyro-madder]

it then proceeded to be a massive letdown

it's only wednesday and i have to act normal for the rest of the week despite living in a timeline where endless ocean 3 exists

[froggibus]

Could I request some soft nsfw with Reyes during his Blackwatch era? Like he and his gn s/o (who’s maybe in Ow or Bw, choose whatever <3) just decide to take it slow and soft after a day of missions and work?

(Love your Reaper fics and your work in general 😞🫶)

Morning Glory - Gabriel Reyes

Pairing: Gabriel Reyes x reader (no pronouns are used but reader has a pussy)

Genre: smut/nsfw

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: your husband has no problem being late to work if he can bask in your morning glory just a little while longer

CW: established relationship (married), finger sucking, morning sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slight dom/sub vibes, just some wholesome sex I swear, only the teeniest tiniest bit of plot

hey!! thanks so much for this request 💓 ive been really soft for Reyes lately so I had a lot of fun writing this ^^ I did change it a tiny bit to fit better, I hope that’s okay & you still enjoy it!! hope you’re having a wonderful day hun

Gabriel laces his fingers through yours, flattening his palms and forcing your hands further into the mattress. His brown eyes are near black, pupils bloated with lust. The golden sun from the window behind him pools on the back of his head, looking like a halo in your early morning fog.

“How’re you feeling, angel?” 

You whimper when his hips snap against yours again, the head of his cock brushing your cervix. That burning, searing knot inside of you only grows. You tighten your own grip, curling your nails into the skin on the backs of his rough hands. 

He slows down, his dick painfully still inside of you. “Y/n,” he says in that same tone you’ve seen him use with his agents. “Use your words.”

“G—good.” 

He smiles and rewards you with a kiss, pushing forward until his cock bottoms out inside of you. His hips roll into yours, the hard skin of his toned stomach brushing against the bare skin of yours. Your pussy flutters in response.

You sneak a glance at the alarm clock on your nightstand, the green LEDs reading dangerously close to the time you have to be at work. You squirm beneath your husband but the attempt is futile.

He kisses you once more, love and passion and the aftertaste of his protein shake flooding your mouth. The stubble on his face tickles yours, a grateful distraction from the assault on your pussy. 

“Where’re you trying to go, hm?”

You bite your lip and blink at him through tears after a particularly deep thrust, as if he’s trying to emphasise his words with every motion. “We’re gonna be late for work,” you say. “I didn’t realize it was so late, we need to get ready—”

Gabriel pulls all the way out of you before slamming back in, your whole body quivering from the sudden intensity. You cry out, eyes and hands clenching shut. You’re only vaguely aware of him laughing above you in the aftershocks of your pleasure. 

He releases your left hand, trailing his down to cup at your cheek. You flex your fingers awkwardly, the muscles stiff from the bruising grip he’s had on you all morning. He taps your face gently, prompting you to open your eyes.

“Work, work,” he taunts. His thrusts are slow once more, shallow and teasing as his cock barely dips into your heat. “I’ve been working all damn week. I can be late just once.”

He captures your lips in a ravenous kiss, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip until you submit and open wide for him. His tongue swirls around your mouth, tangling against yours, running along the backs of your teeth, feeling every part of you. 

His other hand tightens against yours with another roll of his hips. His mouth is steady on yours while he rocks back into you, building up to a steady pace that finally starts to relieve the pressure you’ve felt all morning. Every movement of his cock, every forward motion, has your walls stretching apart, splitting open against his width in a way that has your eyes rolling back.

He pulls away from you, a string of spit connecting your lips until it splits in the centre and coats your lips. He flashes you a lusty smile, running his thumb across your swollen mouth to smear it even more. He loves you like this—all desperate and messy and whiny beneath him in the morning light.

You tilt your head to look at the alarm clock once more but he fucks into you harshly, his thrusts increasing to a pace that even he struggles to keep track of. His hand grips your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him.

“Eyes off the clock, angel.” His tone is kind but there’s a new desperation behind it, something telling you to just submit and let him use you. 

You open your mouth to protest but he slips his thumb inside, running it over the ridges of your tongue. On reflex, you close your mouth and start sucking on it, circling your tongue around it the same way you did to his cock earlier this morning.

Gabriel smirks at you, as if remembering the same thing. His other hand finally releases yours—your fingers almost numb—and grabs your waist. He uses his grip as leverage to fuck into you deeper, faster. His fingers prod into your skin and drag you to him with every thrust, meeting him halfway every time.

His thrusts are so intense that you have no choice but to close your eyes, that unbearable heat in the base of your stomach threatening to explode at any second. Your toes curl into themselves at an especially harsh thrust, stinging waves of pleasure racing up your spine until you feel dizzy.

You cry out for him, your still sore fingers lacing through the dark strands of his hair and tugging hard. He pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a pop, cleaning it off in his own mouth before placing it on your waist to mirror his other hand. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” He babbles, “feel like I haven’t gotten to fuck you in forever, baby. Missed this pussy.”

You nod along with his words, but through the intense thrum of pleasure filling your ears, you hardly hear what he’s saying. You tighten your grip and arch your back, trying to angle him deeper. Gabriel follows your motion, pressing a firm hand down on your stomach, palming his cock through your skin.

He grunts at the feeling, only spurring himself further until he’s pistoning in and out of you, your walls fluttering around him in warning. Heat washes over your entire body, sweat starting to slick your temples. He presses soft kisses to your lips, grinding himself so deep into you that it almost hurts, and then your orgasm washes through you.

You clench, every muscle in your body tightening as pleasure takes over completely. Your pussy squeezes his cock, stilling his movements and sending him over the edge with you. Hot ropes of cum flood your pussy, Gabriel grabbing your face tightly and kissing you with all the desperation in the world.

You pant into the kiss, finally relaxing and letting your body drop into the mattress. Your ears ring and blackspots dance across your vision, but the feeling of your husband’s cock filling you up, his rough lips on yours, are incomparable.

Gabriel is sweating by the time he’s sliding out of you, the gushing combination of your slick and his cum running out of your pussy and staining the sheets. You look at it with a frown—you’ll have to wash those later.

He rolls off of you and glances at your alarm clock. “Wow,” he says, voice hoarse. “We’re gonna be really late for work.”

You fix him with a glare. “No kidding.”

He smiles sheepishly, though you know better than anyone he has no regrets. None whatsoever.

masterlist | overwatch masterlist

thank you so much for reading ^^ every like, comment & reblog is so appreciated ♥

[ciaomarie]

The Bear S3 Thoughts/Feelings at 4am

Warning: So much hateration below. I'm disappointed overall. It's gorgeously shot and the acting is still top tier from the main cast, but OOF.

See below the cut

I want to say this first. Napkins, Tina's episode, was lovely. Okay, moving forward...

The first couple episodes started off so strong and then….what was this?!?I LOVED THE FIRST EPISODE SO MUCH. Episode 2 was pretty good, but soon the energy was off, it was painfully slow in some places, THE FAKS ARE NOT FUNNY, Claire "haunted" the whole season and it wasn't even her fault. Most of the "comedy" came from those Fak morons, instead of our LEADS, like Richie for example. It got so bad, I faced an existential crisis during "Ice Chips." I literally started thinking, "It's just a show. It doesn't matter." Seriously, I have real life problems and this show is not only, not an escape right now, but who cares?!?!

Anyways, Donna and Nat acted their butts off, but Ep 8 was too long when we needed more development from the others. And where was Carmy during the delivery?!!? And finally Sydcarmy, FINE, if they want to go the platonic route, after placing her at the literal center of his relationship all S2, but it felt like their soul connection was severed now. They teased us so bad at the end of Ep 1, gave us a trickle in the ep 2-3, and then...nothing, unless you count Syd's panic attack. My heart dropped when she wasn't the first to notice how messed up Carmy was at the Ever dinner. Plus, he's hasn't picked up on her inner turmoil for weeks!!!!! Aren't these two supposed to be close friends with a shared passion according to Chris, Joana, Ayo, Jeremy, and the Anti-BW/WM Brigade on Reddit? I doubt I'll be staying up until 4am to binge S4 next year.

Did Chris and Joana let the acclaim get to their heads and they fell off? Matty (Neil Fak) is a producer, but is he blackmailing them to be in 9/10 episodes?? John Cena's cameo felt like it was 4 hours.

Saddest part I have to go back to. I guess the cast really wasn't lying about Sydcarmy for S3. Basically, Syd and Carmy barely know each other anymore. I HATE IT HERE. Looking forward to other more positive takes on the season and Sydcarmy.

[neon--glitch]

I'm so incredibly normal about Anthea and Concordia. Just like N they're orphans taken in by Ghetsis, and seemingly all they do within team plasma is care for N. In other languages they each have the title of 'goddess' or 'muse'. When you speak to them in Black and White they're both aware of the ways Ghetsis manipulated N, yet they did nothing - did they have any other options? Could they only watch? In both games they only ever speak about N. Concordia says that she doesn't "understand N's pure and innocent feelings", but she wants him to be happy and find his own goals. They have so much potential!!! Did they stay with the members of Team Plasma who still follow N because they wanted to, or because they had nowhere else to go? They've barely changed over the two years between BW and B2W2, swapping their more goddess-like outfits for more practical but just as feminine ones. Do they stay like this they want to, or because just as N was raised to be a king, they were raised to be caring, motherly 'goddesses'?

[chogiwow]

member: professor! jake x uni student, gn!reader

warnings: slight age gap bw jake and reader, hinted suggestive themes

wc: 0.7k+

a/n: one word: hands. i love hands :'>

the sleeves of jake's shirt are folded right up to his elbows, your eyes finding it following its movement.

you were barely paying attention to what your friend was saying, quite blatantly staring at your professor, who stood a ways apart, leaning over a book that another girl was brandishing under his nose and pushing his wire framed glasses up his nose in concentration; no doubt she was smitten by the hot professor and you wouldn't blame her for it.

taking the pen from his student, he starts writing something down on the page and you're more than aware of the veins in his hands that stand out. lately that has been the only thing that you've been raptured about, especially since jake has almost never buttoned up his sleeves entirely, choosing to roll them up till his elbow.

it gives you a nice sight of his veiny hands and his attractive fingers, holding a chalk or marker or flipping a page of a book, and it's very attractive.

jake himself is attractive for that matter. you've almost never seen him in a shirt that is anything but white in colour, black pants, polished shoes and neatly cut brown hair. his choice of the material of his clothes though...interesting.

you hold this to the account of the singular time you had seen some of your batchmates pleading with him to join a game of basketball. while him on the court itself, dribbling a ball while unbuttoning yet another button had been quite a sight to behold, you don't think it was anywhere close to what your eyes had feasted upon the very next period.

his shirt, obviously moist with sweat due to his previous endeavours, had somewhat of a sheer quality to it which made it almost impossible for you to look away from his broad shoulders when the cloth insisted on sticking to his naked back and he'd have to ever so often shake the front of his shirt because he was too hot.

you hum absentmindedly at something your friend says, eyes still trained on the professor you've spent too many weeks fantasizing about when the man in question looks up and catches your eyes.

you somehow don't feel the need to look away, holding his gaze and responding to his smile with one of your own tight lipped one. eventually he has to attend to the student who looked like she was stalling him at this point and you chuckle at the sight. this catches his attention and he spares you a glance for a split second, slightly raising his eyebrow before getting engaged yet again.

he talks to his student patiently, answering her questions and indulging in something she says because you see him laugh and scratch his head, bashfully pushing up his glasses even though he didn't need to, as if he were embarrassed of something and was merely trying to keep his hands occupied.

you keep looking at them even though jake no longer has his attention on you – well, not physically no, but mentally he's wondering about your amusement – and it seems like your patience was finally paying off.

jake's little questionnaire ends and he finally looks up at you. your friend has long abandoned trying to engage you in her conversation, taking to scrolling through her phone in listless amusement and this lets you direct your undivided attention to your professor.

he walks over to where you were, slowly and purposefully, smiling and nodding at a few students who greeted him. an apprehensive excitement bubbles in your stomach, your fingers twitching as he approaches you and your oblivious friend.

almost as if he were teasing you, jake buried one hand in his pocket, holding the books in the other, his stride never ceasing to be any less alluring than his usual charismatic aura, only heightening in the way it almost turned heads his way.

it's a split second of contact you have, a whiff of a scent you don't recognise, nor having time to register given that it only lingers for less than a second and the sensuous way his shirt grazes your arm like a playful touch. it doesn't even last that long, this moment, but it does remain in your mind for a long time.

you're almost certain you hear him chuckle. you wouldn't know, you didn't turn back. and you also didn't know that jake had to turn right back after you left, for he had taken a detour just to walk past you.

[jtavington]

And now for a scalding hot SWTOR take:

I don't see IA/Lana.

(Want to preface this by saying that what got me to try SWTOR was someone who didn't even like Lana telling me I should romance her. That's how much my type she is. So this is from an IC point of view from somebody who always romances Lana)

Lana is the closest we will ever get to a genuinely heroic Sith, but she's still a Sith. She sacrifices people she considers expendable and submits them to torture even when the necessity is dubious. She wants you to use the holocron against Valkorian which is super sensible but does involve the spirit staying enslaved. She gets promoted to head of Intelligence over you even though she has trouble reading people. For someone who has has their agency taken away like Cipher Nine has she feels like someone they'd eventually learn to respect after she frees them from carbonite not a love interest.

And yeah making the hot take partly because I'd like to change that. IA was my first class and I consider it the finest BW RPG since the original KOTOR. My Impside preference for Lana was a BH I created but 1)"Fascinated by Force artifacts and not caring about honor" are only barely possible to RP and 2)Bisexual and Torian is a catch. Got a JC who fits the romance like a glove, but Impside Forged and Fractured Alliance have some of the best romance bits.

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today, on September 2nd, 1985

Freddie Mercury released ‘Living On My Own’ bw ‘Love Is Dangerous’ (4th solo single), taken from 'Mr. Bad Guy', first solo album 1985

🔸Freddie Mercury: Well, that is ‘Living on my own’. Yes, that’s like… Basically if you listen to ‘Living on my own’ that is very me, it’s living on my own but having fun. There’s a bit in the middle where I do my scat singing and I’m just going… When you think about somebody like me, I mean my life-style, I mean I have to sort of go around the world and live in hotels and that can be very lonely but then… I look upon it and I don’t want people to say ‘Oh…’ you know, I just say that’s my life, it can be a very lonely life, but I mean I chose it and so, that song, it’s not dealing with people who are living on their own in sort of basement flats, or things like that. It’s my living on my own, and they are going to say ‘Oh my God, how can he live on his own ?’ But I mean, you can have a whole… a shoal of people you know looking after you, but you can be still living on your own because in the end they all go away and you live, you know, you live in a hotel on your own. And so basically what I’ve got to say is that I’m living on my own but I’m not complaining. I’m just saying I’m living on my own and I’m having a bogey time. Does that make sense, honey ?

Interviewer : It does, yes it does.

Freddie: It’s a different kind of living on my own, but I’m just saying that people in my.. with my success can be lonely and can live on their own as well.

Interviewer : So how do you hold on to real friends ?

Freddie: I don’t, I discard them. I don’t have any real friends. I don’t think I do. People tell me though they’re my friends.

Interviewer : Don’t you believe them ?

Freddie: No, no. Yes and no, I mean, I think what happens is when… I’m not afraid of them, but it is frightening, that’s the difference. Sometimes when they get too close I think they seem to destroy me, I don’t know, may be it’s my nature or whatever. When they get too close they seem to tread all over me, and when I lay myself bare on the floor it just seems to be my downfall. Maybe that’s my role in life and so I don’t… Yea, I’m very skeptical in terms of that. I seem to be at this point in time I think, I seem to be… make fewer and fewer friends, but life goes on…

Interviewer : So do you live for today rather than for the future or…

Freddie: No, I live for tomorrow. Quite different too, fuck today, it’s tomorrow. Oh, that’s nice…

Interviewer : That must have been a controversial remark.

Freddie: Somebody didn’t like what I’ve just said ? !

Interviewer : Shall we carry on ? In view of that, Freddie, surely there comes a time when you want to share your life with someone one day ?

Freddie: Yes, but nobody wants to share their life with me. Yes, I do, of course I do. But I think it’s… not easy living with me and I think at maybe I’m trying too hard you know, something… Of course, I think about that and in one way I think the more mishaps I have the better the songs are going to be, you know. Once I find somebody, I can find a long lasting relationship, bong goes all the research for wonderful songs. At the end I’m sort of you know, I’m sort of living on past mishaps. Well, anyway having said that, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know what’s in store for me.

Interviewer : So we can take it that your songs reflect the state of your life ?

Freddie: I think so, I think so, yes.

Interviewer : And that’s why on your songs there is always quite a diverse selection of moods, isn’t it ?

Freddie: Yes, it is because that’s my character too, you know. How boring to just be, you know, to have just one side of your character coming across in everything you do, you know, I just gather information… I’m a man of extremes, you know, I sort of change from day to day like a chameleon and each day is different to me and I look forward to that, you know. I don’t want to be the same person everyday and who knows ?, the way this Album has turned out it’s just a whole spectrum of what my life is, to be honest. But I was not ‘made in heaven’. A lightening bolt suddenly goes ‘crack.

Interviewer : You talk a lot about love on the Album.

Freddie: Yes, I know, I don’t know why.

Interviewer : It obviously means a lot to you.

Freddie: I’m possessed by love, isn’t everybody though ?

Interviewer : Yes, I suppose they are. Deep down there in spite of the tough fade you put on, are you a romantic at heart ?

Freddie: Well, I guess so, you know. Well i think, yes I just… I like writing songs about love, because I mean there’s so much scope and also they have so much to do with me and you can talk about your kind of lover. It’s something that maybe I’m striving for. I’m trying to say that I can be somebody’s lover, you know, a good lover, that’s another aspect of me too. I expect something different now, come on

- Freddie Mercury

Extract from interview 1985

👉 In 1993 Freddie Mercury received in memoriam Ivor Novello award for 'Living On My Own'

📸 Pic: September 1985, Henderson Nightclub, Munich, Germany - Peter Straker, Freddie Mercury and Jo Dare on the set of promotional video 'Living On My Own'

👉 Jo Dare (died in 2024) remembers meeting with Freddie Mercury

[blackwolfstabs]

BWS MINDTOBER 2024 ▸ Day III

Prompt: Circle

────────                                                                                  GIFs is not mine

October 3rd | "some things change, and some things won't."

“Where’s your mother in all this?”

My mother gets a bad rep. She’s an alcoholic. She’s impulsive. She’s selfish and can be extremely cruel. But she is my mother. And no matter what she’s done, I still love her.

She’s done some hurtful things in the past, some of which I can’t speak of. She’s picked work and her boyfriends over her own daughters. And had it not been for me doing what I wasn’t supposed to at 13, maybe she’d be very different. Maybe she’d be just how she was when Tara and I were convinced we were biological sisters through and through, and I was a gem in her eyes. 

She wasn’t always “bad.” She was a great mother. I remember times when she was the only person I wanted around. That was before Tara was born. And now, we rarely speak.

But there is one thing that she taught me better than anyone. 

I was 5 years old, and like every other kid, when I learned something new, I wanted to learn it on the first try. Like every other kid, when there was a process to follow, I wanted to get through it easily, because challenges were the most annoying thing in the world.

In tears, I stormed into the kitchen, where Mom was making dinner and threw down my untied shoes, which I had originally thrown across my room because I still couldn’t tie them myself after what had felt like forever. 

I shouted at her, “I can’t do it! I want you to do it!”

It was annoying and stupid. Why should I waste so much time trying to do something I can’t get right, if my mom could easily just tie my shoes for me?

Mom laughed and shook her head, “You can do it, Sam. It just takes practice.”

I didn’t want to practice, I wanted to do it and be done with it, but I could barely even get past the first step. So, that’s what I told her, “No! I can’t do it! I don’t know how!” Even though she and Dad had shown me over, and over, and over again.

She nodded, “Yes, you do. Daddy and I showed you many times.” Then, she left the counter to pick up my thrown shoes and knelt down in front of me. “Come on.”

I felt so angry at the time, but despite my whining, I let her put one of my shoes on and I watched her tie it as she explained how to do it for the 100th time. I crossed my arms in defiance, when she expected me to try again.

Then, she told me to go sit at the kitchen table. One shoe on and the other off, I did as she said and sat at the table. She met me there and put a piece of paper in front of me. 

“Here,” she pulled out a drawing compass and placed a pencil in its designated divot. She handed it to me. “I want you to draw a circle using this.” As I took it, she guided my little hand with her own, placing the tip of the compass on the paper. “Hold this here with your other hand, and move the pencil in a circle.”

I didn’t understand what drawing a circle had to do with tying my shoes, but I did it anyway. I remember having to restart a couple times because drawing compasses weren’t exactly equipped for 5-year-old hands. 

“Good!” Mom praised, when I finished, “Look how good that is! A perfect circle.”

Seeing her smile at what I had just done made me smile too. She was right, it was a perfect circle, just like I’d see in the cartoons and on patterned fabrics. It blew my mind at the time, and in the moment, I was ready to jump down from my chair and slap it on the fridge for Dad to admire when he got home.

But Mom had different plans and took the compass, removed the pencil, set the compass aside, and gave me the pencil again. “Now, draw another one.”

“Without that?” I pointed to the discarded tool.

She nodded, “Mm-hmm. Just do your best.”

And so, I did. I drew another circle, free-handed, except it wasn’t smooth or rightfully curved at all. Not like the other one. This new one was rocky and awkward, leaning to the side a little to almost give off an oval appearance. I frowned at it, but Mom praised me again.

“Very good, Sam! You drew another circle!”

I just sat back in the chair, disappointed that I had just messed up my masterpiece with that second addition. “It’s no good,” I sulked.

“Is it a circle?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Then, it doesn’t matter what it looks like,” she assured, “You knew what to do. You knew how to draw a circle, and you did it. So what if it’s not exactly how I showed you with the compass? You still drew it all by yourself, without my help!”

I looked up at her, a little confused by the point she was making. I didn’t have to be confused for long though. 

“Samantha, there are always going to be things that you are going to have to learn how to do. It’s okay to not get it perfect on the first try, or the second, or the third one. Even the millionth, zillionth one,” she’d used such terminology to put my young mind into perspective. “All you have to do is try again. If you do that, you can do anything you want. All by yourself.” 

It was still fuzzy to my ability to understand, but that didn’t stop her from encouraging me.

“Just think, by the time Tara gets to be your age, you’ll be a big girl. You’ll be 8 years-old, and you’ll be able to tie your shoes without even thinking about it. Then, you can teach her.”

Tara was only a year at the time. She had so many things to experience, and I would be there to help her learn through them all. It sounded like a good idea, and it was enough for me. So, I nodded, “Yeah! And then I’ll be able to draw the best circle ever in the world, ever! I can teach her that too!”

Mom nodded and kissed my head, “You can teach her anything, Sam. Anything and everything you want.”

It’s been 20 years since then. Yes, I can tie my own shoes now; I can even do it blindfolded if you asked me to. Still can’t draw a perfect circle without help, but that’s fine with me.

Because I’ve learned that there’s a perfect way to everything… and then there’s my way.

[rayetherna]

Reached my boiling point after Fontaine AQ & all the consumed fan content, and decided to dive into my dream-based post-canon/ canon divergent dragon!Aether AU, in which the Traveler "unlocks" himself a dragon form through [4.2 AQ spoilers]. So I snatched a liner to not get "stuck" in sketches, and found him during work breaks ^^

Think of this AU as taking place after the final (successful) war with Celestia, in which Aether participated in the form of that huge eldritch gentleman from the last sketch page. Also, most of my Genshin content revolves/will revolve around my polyamorous Kaeya/Aether/Ajax (Kaetherajax) OTP in any dynamic. Although "my" Aether is far more on a leading side, a "connecting link", and an anchor for Ajax and Kaeya - all three ultimately being a secret safe space for each other.

So wth did this come from:

I once had a dream about Aether being stuck in the dragon form in a different world xD He looked similar to a dragon OC of mine, as if he +- belonged to the same species but with his own quirks. In the dream he looked somewhere in-between the "condensed" (was also a liiiiittle bit bigger than that) and "uncondensed" versions. The twins found themselves in a "classy fantasy" world with different branches of magic, and Aether turned out to be a metamorph-healer. They helped to alleviate this world's global crisis, but a fragment of something connected with the local "dark side of the force" got lodged in Aether's chest, seized control over him and forced him to slip away in an unknown direction, stuck in the form of a dragon. Lumine and the local Chaeya set off to search for him - and succeeded! He almost R.I.P.ed them, but came to his senses in time. Most memorable moments:

Aether's appearance - he had three eyes, and when he was under control of the shard, the right and third eyes were just rolled back white, while the left had multiple pupils, similar to a demon from my bw pict attached. But he was overall incredibly creepy in this "possessed" state.

When Aether began to struggle for control, he moved like... I don't know how to describe it, but it was SO fucked up - it was clear from the movements that two entities were fighting for the "seat at the helm", and the body looked like a marionet at times. The closest I can think of is the monkey boss from Sekiro in its headless phase, when it does plunge attacks and forward dashes with a sword x'DDD The sight was absolutely chilling.

When Aether "surfaced" and allowed Lumi, Kaeya and Ajax to get their hands almost elbow-deep into his chest and try to pull out the shard. But while it was budging, it was burning their hands almost to the bone, even despite Lumi's healing and the combo of water-ice cooling from Cheya. In the end it tossed them all aside by some sort of shockwave - so Aether dove into his own wound while he was still "lucid", and ripped the shard out with his own teeth, for Lumine to destroy it.

And the last but not the least was the most hilarious scene of licking the wounds of the companions - Aether was capable of healing almost any damage but in such a strange way, 'cause dragon incarnation enhanced all the abilities, but something about its "composition" influenced "magic conductivity" xDD He carefully used Kaya's palm as an example for what he had in mind (he had a hard time speaking in this form). Kaeya immediately bared Childe's nasty wound (on his side) from Aether's claws, and Childe was instantly alarmed for the most ridiculous reasons:

Сhilde: Nononono wait - he's her brother, right? A human! Another very human man licking me! How is that okay?! Kaeya: ... Do you HAVE to make things even more awkward than they are? Lumine: does a discreet eyeroll

Turns out it was very much okay, but there was one very awkwardly fluffed up Aether licking the wounds of a tomato-grade red Childe, who was hiding his face in his hands.

[re1gn404]

SUBBBWAYYYYY BOOSSSSEEEESSSS!!

SO

emmet: barely knows how to play the trumpet, but somehow gets by in marching band, as the others cover for him, soon becoming a drum major.

ingo: a passionate pit member who constantly looks out for emmet on the field, both of which get yelled at…a lot.. but nonetheless, he becomes a drum major alongside emmet.

both play in absolute sync and precision, like their battling skills. 

their uniforms are black and white, with areas of blue and orange. the drum major uniforms would resemble that of their coats (BW), having blue and orange striped lines, while still sporting the black and white look.

[nikethestatue]

Isn’t it weird that after what happened to nesta in the bog we didn’t see any scene of elain visiting her. I feel like there were so many opportunities for sister bonding moments, but Sarah has not developed their relationship. It’s been 4 books and we barely have any moments bw the sisters.

Yah the sisters relationships are just a mess.

I honestly dont even remember what happened after Oorid. I know Nessian had sex, but I don't remember what that transitioned to afterwards. Certainly not the sisters talking.

it's still frustrating that Nesta telling Feyre about the baby is framed as some negative thing. Nesta did the right thing and I wish it wasn't written like she did it out of spite and rage.

Whats more, there was a potential for a very interesting conversation and exploration of female health somewhere in there. How women, to this day, aren't listened to or consulted when it comes to their own bodies and health. How decisions are made outside of their knowledge and consent. It could've been a meaningful addition to the theme of health, mental and physical, as well as healing.

But SJM decided to write another training session instead.

[argent-rex]

After N recovers from his mini breakdown at Pokédonald's he flies to Kanto seeking the BW trainer. He spots a tall tower and makes a stop quickly, landing in a quaint but erie town. The air is thick and heavy, and as night is approaching a heavy fog rolls in. Residents warn him to stay inside, but he doesn't need to, not when he has the Dragon of Legend with him. He begins to ascend the tower with the Dragon following him, who is cautious and keeping a watchful eye on Harmonia. N continues to ascend, looking at the graves solemnly, speaking with the ghost pokémon as he reaches the final flight of stairs. He senses someone waiting up ahead. But how? How did someone know he was here? Could it be... his friend?

N ascends the final staircase.

Anxious, sweating beading on his brow. What would his friend say? How would they greet each other? There is a lump in his throat, his chest thuds with the rhythm of trepidation as his eyes dance towards the figure.

It's an old man. Smiling at him with such warmth and compassion. N is confused, who could this man be? His aura is radiant, reminiscent of a sophisticated calm similar to that of Anthea and Concdoria, when they used to watch over him when he was young.

"Ah, young man. You're up late. The Pokémon were beginning to become restless. They're not used to visitors at this time!" The old man chuckled, his wrinkled features briefly illuminated in the dim light.

N gathered himself. "This... this is a graveyard. I thought they would be sad, all the Pokémon... but- they're happy."

The old man smiled, warmth radiating from him. His old eyes spoke with a kindness that kept N's gaze toward the fellow. "I have been attending to the Pokémon here and paying my respects for many decades now. It's the least I owe to them and the people of this town. Young man, you can understand them... correct?"

"How did you-" N began in haste, but bit his tongue. This man posed no threat, there was no need to suspect him as untrustworthy. "Yes, I can speak with Pokémon. The others at the Pokémon House were all talking about you, Mr. Fuji." N bowed respectfully now understanding who he spoke with. "Cubone is worried about you."

Mr. Fuji's smile brimmed with mirth as he let out another light chuckle. "That Cubone worries more about me than it does itself sometimes! Perhaps it is time to head home for the night. Come young man, won't you stay with us until the morrow?"

N nodded in agreement, motioning for the Dragon of Legend to follow as he descended Pokémon Tower with Mr.Fuji, talking more about the nature of Pokémon and the ones the old man cared for. It was near midnight when the two arrived back at Pokémon House, turning in until the sun rose in the morning.

N had barely slept.

The sun had just kissed the horizon, shades of purple bleeding into hues of orange as the blue of day began to wash over the clouds when N climbed onto the back of the Dragon of Legend, only to be stopped by Mr. Fuji before taking off.

"Pardon my intrusion young man, but I have seen that expression on your face countless times in my life. You are searching for something, or someone. I mean not to pry, but may I offer some advice?" The old man took N's silence as affirmation and continued. "There was a young boy, some time ago- who came to this town and helped our people and Pokémon in a time of great need. Without hesitation and without barely a word, he ascended the tower and freed a restless spirit... and he freed me from the clutches of the wicked Team Rocket. This young man then went on his way, much like you are about to. In that young man I saw a strength, a determination and desire to change things for the better. He knew what he wanted to achieve, what the end of his goal was and how he was going to achieve it. Through that determination, he saved this region. It wasn't until two years after that, he visited me... he had changed. He was still the young man I had met before but... he did not speak. Not to any of my helpers, but to me... and to Cubone."

N's eyes narrowed. Another Pokémon trainer who understood Pokémon like his friend did? A trainer with such strength to thwart an evil clouding the region? "Where do I find this trainer?"

Mr. Fuji's smile was small and his expression flashed briefly with regret. He let out a sigh. "Beyond the Indigo Plateua, a mountain sits. A system of caves weave and wind their way through to the mountain top, where you will find him at its very peak."

"You weren't meant to reveal his location, were you?"

"No, young man. I was not."

"You trusted me with this information. Why?"

"He may lead you to who you seek."

N's pupil's dialated and he felt the Dragon of Legend begin to power up, ready for flight. They were both ready, for whoever this trainer was. "Tell me, Mr. Fuji... what is this trainer's name?"

"His name, is Red."