#but then i remember what it’s like to have those shallow connections

[francisforever2014]

my friend with the awful older boyfriend called me today for the first time in a while and i asked how he was and she was just so unenthusiastic talking about him and i made a face and she was like. i just can’t go through a breakup rn. the way she lives is genuinely incomprehensible

[skylinesnsunshines]

pac: what's your next significant partner like? -`♡´-

disclaimer: all for entertainment purposes only, free will exists and energies are subject to change. if it doesn't resonate then it might not be the pile or reading for you. remember that this is a general reading, so i'm channelling the energy of the majority, not a specific individual.

(italicised is the card on the bottom of the tarot deck which is meant to represent the subconscious/blind spot of the situation + rx means reversed)

PILE 1 -> PILE 2 -> PILE 3

photo cr: pinterest | dividers | personal readings | tips

pile 1 ~ queen of wands, the emperor, 8 of wands rx, page of wands rx, 9 of cups oracle cards ~ ceremony: invocation. seduction: attraction, flirting, dating, hooking up, temptation, third-party interference. candle: you will be shown the way, leg: stepping into a new experience.

hello my pile 1's! immediately HEAVY fire energy here, either you or your person could have fire sign placements (mainly feeling leo and aries). i see that this person could be your next romantic interest and that they can deviate from your usual type. this person seems to have a commanding energy and a certain charisma that they embody, and even physically they could be seen as quite conventionally attractive. i believe there is a difference between how people perceive them and who they are within, as their physical presence could impact people's perception of them. sometimes people might think they're "too good to be true" and people could find it difficult to keep their attention. their mind or attention might be sporadic, so this seems to be the person that's "difficult to pin down". they're giving the eldest child energy and may have been the type to carry a lot of burdens due to their family's expectations of them. they seem to have a silent confidence about them and keep their cards close to their chest. even though they're very fiery and express their thoughts easily, there's a conservative nature about them and they keep what they're truly thinking or feeling to themselves. people in their daily lives could idolise them and see them as the people they want to be or be with. this assertive presence often causes people to be intimidated and create an image of this person that is incongruous with who they truly are. just like fire, this person's energy keeps others warm but they can set themselves alight for their loved ones. to outsiders this person might seem shallow due to their demeanour, but they do this on purpose to weed out those that aren't able to see them for who they truly are. although they are quite fiery, i feel that they might struggle with expressing their anger at times which can cause them to implode. there's a deep layer of sensitivity within this person even sacrificial at times. i'm seeing that you help bring out their lively side and are even childlike at times. they could have had to grow up quickly which is why we have 2 cards tied with royalty here, but with you, they seem to feel more at ease with expressing their impulses.

you might meet this next person at an event or celebration or some kind as it could be a wedding, a party, a concert or something along those lines. i think when you meet them for the first time there's an immediate connection, once you lock eyes you both share the immediate feeling of being like "that's my person". there's this magnetism and instant pull that you feel from this person and you and/or them could feel a sense of flirtyness. i'm seeing your first interactions will have playful banter and a lot of lighthearted flirty energy, they could have other suitors vying for their attention but they don't seem fazed by it as their focus is on you. you had an extra oracle card fall out, which describes stepping into a new experience. this reiterates the idea that this person might not be your usual type, or their background could be different from what you've experienced. when it comes to the candle, again it reiterates the instant attraction that you both have and there's a sense of being drawn to each other with no explanation.

pile 2 ~ 2 of cups, 2 of swords rx, 3 of wands, knight of wands rx, 6 of pentacles rx oracle cards ~ spring equinox: rebirth. palm tree: stability, security, permanence, growth, endurance, flexibility. egg: success is assured with good plans and hard work.

hi there pile 2's! immediately 2 cards with the number 2 jumped out which tells me this person might have significant 2nd house (or taurus) placements. with the 2 of cups, they give me libra energy, as this card usually describes people who love hard and enjoy being in partnerships. tauruses are known to be quite stubborn or hardheaded which is totally the energy i pick up from this person, in my mind's eye i'm seeing "tunnel vision" which tells me that this person could struggle with multitasking and needs to feel like they've accomplished a goal to let it go. seems to be the type of person to not take "no" for an answer (respectfully of course). they seem to not be serial daters and only enter a connection if they feel a sense of stability and long-term potential. they have a clear vision of who they are and who they want to be which is why they don't tolerate anything less. they seem to be quite resourceful with big dreams, but they have a bigger drive which is why success seems assured in their future. i'm hearing that they prioritise working smarter, not harder, and will do anything to ensure success for themselves and their loved ones. i don't see them as opportunistic as their need for energy seems to stem from a lack of mindset that they've had growing up. they feel a sense of accomplishment when they can provide for their parents, partners, friends, etc. which ultimately is the fuel for their drive to success. they seem to only be able to enjoy their success if it's tangible and will do anything to ensure their family's long-term stability. they seem to struggle with staying put and stagnancy, which is why they feel the constant need to reinvent and improve themselves and their life. they always seem to think 2 steps ahead and their self-preservation lies in security for their family. they like to feel depended on, which is why they might struggle with feeling enough for themselves. they feel that their life's mission is for them to be able to provide and make other's proud, i'm unsure if this is due to external factors such as upbringing or if it's their innate nature. i do see your relationship teaching them to live in the present more and to appreciate the little moments.

in the northern hemisphere, the spring equinox usually falls on march 20th-21st whereas, in the southern hemisphere, it usually falls on september 22nd-23rd so these dates could be significant. i feel that this person doesn't like labels and doesn't let them define their identity. they hate to be put in a box and see themselves as an ever-evolving being that is always learning and improving. they could also have more of a provider mindset with the palm tree card, as this card describes an unshakeable figure and security. they pride themselves on their endurance and in their resilience. figuratively, they don't seem fussed if they are behind others because they know they'll eventually catch up or even surpass them anyways. i'm hearing the phrase "it's hard to make it to the top, but it's even harder to stay at the top" which could be a testament to your person's character. they're a planner and could be a very type a personality, they have a life plan and will do anything to achieve it. i do feel they aren't as rigid as you might think, but definitely resourceful. if they can't get to plan b from plan a in a straight line, they'll still get there even if it means that they'll take 20 left turns and 40 right turns.

pile 3 ~ 9 of cups, 5 of cups, knight of pentacles, king of swords, 3 of swords oracle cards ~ full moon: completion. heartbroken: deeply hurt, sad, separation, breakup, feeling lost, grieving, mourning. shield: you need to defend yourself.

hi pile 3's! i definitely pick up a strong masculine energy from this pile, they don't have to exclusively identify as a male but their energy just seems more dominant than most. i think this person is on a journey to find self-fulfilment as they've experienced heartbreaks and difficulties throughout their life. they might come off as a brooding character sometimes, or someone who's more reluctant to share their vulnerabilities. they seem to be a person who has it all, for example, they could be quite intelligent, they have a stable job, or they grew up comfortably, but there is a part of themselves that is missing which they are yearning to find. i think their biggest difficulties lie in their relationships, as i can see someone who has such a tender heart but experiences difficult individuals who aren't able to reciprocate the depth that they can. they have a strong sense of self but have feelings of insecurity when it comes to their relationships, as i'm feeling more romantic connections but it could be platonic as well. due to their heartbreaks, they could come off as standoffish or uninterested, but this is mainly a defence mechanism because they don't want to trust the wrong person. these people might like being approached rather than approaching, as i feel like their hurt stems from their unresolved fear of trusting others. they take a while to open up or pursue any connections, but that's because they want to be 100% sure and don't want to provide you with anything less than their worth. they seem incredibly self-aware but need more time to heal their wounds than you do. i'm seeing you being incredibly kind and encouraging for them, which greatly helps build the foundation of trust between you two. they might be someone who often looks to the past as well, and is hypercritical of their mistakes. i do feel that your relationship will help this wound for them and helps them to trust again. they will really try to improve their boundaries and engage in conversations that stimulate you both intellectually. i'm getting that their love language could be words of affirmation and gift-giving. they will learn to be more able to put their feelings into words and work through their traumas to be the best for you and your relationship.

now they might be born under a full moon or you might meet them during a full moon, or even during a time when you are towards the tail end of a chapter of your life. i'm envisioning that you might meet this person towards the end of a chapter so you both can go through the next chapter together. i feel like you could meet them not long after they've had a heartbreak or are in a period of mourning. this energy isn't full of doom and gloom though, as i feel that you were meant to be in this person's life at that specific time to teach them a lesson about resilience. you seem to be this person's endgame and help heal their wounds regarding relationships, they seem to feel like you are their shield and safe space. although they are extremely capable of defending themselves physically, i'm getting the vibe that you are such a fierce protector of their heart and energy which is rare for them. i feel that you will also teach them a lot about self-worth as i'm hearing someone say "why me?", cause they sometimes feel that you are a godsend and that you're too good to be true. you seem to be the last footnote in their chapter and you revitalise their feelings of romance.

that is all! if you have any feedback, comments, queries or requests please don’t hesitate to reach out to me my ask box is always open. sending you all love, light, positivity and abundance <3 much love

[breadly-art]

I often see people saying that Miguel hates children. All I can say to such people is that their views are too shallow. And that's why they're wrong:

Let's think logically. Miguel, like the entire HQ, is sure that the violation of canon events will result in the destruction of the entire universe. He has reason to believe so - before his eyes, the whole world disappeared through his own fault. That's it, it's all gone. Of course, Miguel will be sure that it is not worth violating the canon. Moreover, he knows that the universes are connected, and if you lose too many of them, then the entire multiverse will collapse, this is logical. It's like a spider web - the more holes there are in it, the sooner it will break.

Miguel leads a squad that maintains the stability of the canon by dealing with anomalies. He must be sure that each of the spider-men will be reliable enough to prevent a violation of the canon event. He has no other option, he will not just forget about the minor mistakes of any spider-man from the HQ. Not because he's angry and strict, but because the safety of all universes depends on it, God damn it.

He's in charge for a reason. He knows what he is doing and why, he knows what a mistake will cost. "I don't always like what I have to do. But I know that I have to be the one to do it." He knows that the canon event often costs someone their life, he knows that some spider-man will feel bad about it, but are there any other options?... Yes, in the question "one person or the whole universe" he chooses the universe, but that doesn't make him an asshole. He's trying to save millions of lives in the only reliable way he knows how.

And now back to his "hatred of children." Miles. Yes, I can understand his desire to save his father, but it could destroy his universe. And yes, it is not a fact that it will be destroyed, but judging by what Miguel saw, the chance of the collapse of the universe is GREAT. And it's not just about Miles's universe, it's about all universes. A web with many holes breaks faster. If saving the universes costs Miles's father's life, if Miguel has to keep Miles at HQ by force to prevent him from making a mistake, he will do it. I don't think Miguel likes it. But he knows he has to be the one to do it.

Gwen. A lot of people didn't like the way he treated her, but listen - there were reasons for that. As I said, Miguel needs to be confident in every spider-Man at HQ, it's a matter of keeping the universes safe. And Gwen let Miles go, let go of someone whose actions could destroy everything. Miguel can't count on her the way he used to, not after she let Pavitr's canon break and didn't catch Miles. He sends her home not because he hate her, but because the HQ is not a place for those who think with their gut. Here you need to think with your head, only this can be 100% sure. You can't make mistakes. HQ must not allow the disruption of the canon. They must not allow the chance of death of millions of people. So Miguel wasn't mad at Gwen. He was disappointed in her - because she couldn't make a hard choice.

For the same reason, he doesn't take Peter B. on a mission. Peter didn't stop Miles when he had the chance, but unlike Gwen, he hasn't questioned Miguel's theory about the canons yet. Peter believes him, but is clearly not sure what to do next. That's why Miguel takes Jess and Ben with him, the ones he's 100% sure of.

Next... Gwen's father. No one, damn it, keeps their finger on the trigger when they don't really want to shoot. Do you think he wouldn't have shot his own daughter? Oh no, he would have done it. And Miguel understood that - that's why he intervened, even though he shouldn't have been there. After all, remember - a vulture could disrupt some kind of canon event. But which one? Facereveal Gwen in front of her father, perhaps? Nevertheless, Miguel intervened. After all, he knows what it's like to deal with an Irish father named George, who is ready to raise his hand against a child.

And then, even seeing Gwen's insecurity after everything that happened, he suggests that she "join the club", he knows what it's like to be all alone. And he clearly doesn't want that for Gwen.

Miguel is not a bad character. Not a villain. He doesn't hate children. He's just trying to protect the universes the best he can, and he's ready to be the one who has to make the hard choice. I don't think he likes it all. He keeps doing it because he doesn't know any other way. He tried to find it - and the more he tried, the more damage he did. He’s only on the “prevent other worlds from being disrupted” step of this process and he’s already way past worn out.

Look at it from this angle - if you had been working on a project for a very long time, which you had already failed once (and it was so terrible that you don't want to remember), which required all your time and effort, required you to lead people you didn't know very well, required you to constantly make choices, after which you would they always looked askance, and you yourself would feel extremely lousy, but which would clearly benefit many people... And then there was a high chance that another person would ruin everything for you, because he has another untested work plan. And this person is not listening to you, this person is not interested in your arguments, he is absolutely stubborn. Wouldn't you freak out about it? Wouldn't you be angry? Wouldn't you try to stop this person with all your might? This is not hatred of children. It's a damn fear.

[rivetgoth]

The fact that I’ve seen a few people try to analyze I Saw the TV Glow through a lens of it being about like, fandom and obsession with media and nostalgia being bad ?? is genuinely blowing my mind. Obviously there’s the fact that this movie is as unambiguously about being trans as it can possibly be without just saying outright “this is a movie about being trans” but I also think this is crazy because I would say it actually has one of the most unambiguously positive relationships with concepts like “media consumption” and “nostalgia” that I’ve seen in a movie.

Like, to say it’s a shallow interpretation of the film to call it “about media/fandom” (and especially a negative depiction of such things!) is putting it quite kindly because I kind of feel that anyone who utters such sentiments didn’t actually understand the core element of the entire movie: “The Pink Opaque” is not a show. Commentary the film makes about watching “The Pink Opaque” cannot translate to commentary on watching shows broadly because the movie spends half its runtime making it explicitly clear that “The Pink Opaque” may be a show that exists in a literal sense but is not one in a figurative sense. “The Pink Opaque” represents the possibilities of childhood and innocence. Innocence that still is not free from judgment—Owen gets told the show is for girls, Maddy’s friend accuses her of sexual harassment on account of her sexuality while they were watching it together—but it’s the moment in your youth (or any time! it doesn’t have to go away!) when the possibility of queerness and more explicitly queer utopia feels real to you. The external pressures to conform are still there but you can tune them out if just for a moment to envision a future and a life for yourself free of it and living authentically. I think this is an experience all LGBT people can relate to, but in the case of ISTTVG it’s very explicitly primarily focusing on queer femininity, predominantly transfemininity, but in Maddy’s case as well she is a queer woman (I’ve seen some interpretations of her as transmasculine but I disagree personally). Hence the on-the-nose nature of it being PINK.

What feels very genius about Schoenbrun making it about a show though is that it’s so generational, right? For all of us LGBT people who grew up in the age of screens that WAS where a lot of that early imagination going wild resided. The first time you explore a new name is on anonymous forums. The first time you explore your masculinity or femininity is with which character you relate to in a show, or which gender you select in Pokémon. Movies and shows with “queer subtext” or even without give young LGBT people the chance to envision relationships and futures for themselves, what many grow up and call “shipping.” You have your first gay crush while watching your favorite movies. You envy those of your true gender while watching your favorite movies. Amongst many other things when Maddy watches “The Pink Opaque” she’s given access to a world where two women share this intimate connection and overcome obstacles together. When Owen watches “The Pink Opaque” they’re given access to a world where femininity is a real option for their future.

The relationship these characters have to “The Pink Opaque” is a net positive and the movie makes that so incredibly obvious when Owen goes back to rewatch it later and finds that it’s nothing like how they remembered, it feels childish and immature and dumb. That is a bad thing. This is a bad thing. The movie wants you to see this as a bad thing. This is the result of repression, of conversion therapy, of violent coercion into normative lifestyle—That sense of limitless possibility is destroyed and the idea of accessing one’s transness, of imagining this utopia where you CAN be yourself and live as a woman, strong and beautiful on the other side of the screen as said in the film, is lost. Now you tell yourself it feels silly, it feels childish to imagine such things, it’s not nearly as deep and meaningful as you believed it was when you were younger and less inhibited, or it’s at the very least easier to tell yourself that. Owen’s feeling embarrassed is of note here. If it weren’t for these external pressures that have been internalized they very well may have been able to still enjoy the show, even as they’ve aged and grown and matured, even if their perspective has changed a little. But they can’t. Not yet, at least.

I feel kind of out of my mind seeing people try to approach it through a lens of commentating on media consumption because it’s so deeply missing the layers of what’s actually being said… and not even in a wildly obfuscated way. The movie is ABOUT the relationship these characters have to “The Pink Opaque” and how the loss of that is a bad thing. How you can possibly watch it and see it being about some kind of growth from obsessive media consumption is mind boggling to me. Seeing multiple reviews and posts in tags about it is crazy. One thing I really like about this movie is that it so confidently argues for a more positive interpretation of being obsessed with “fantasy” and the childlike wonder of the limitless possibilities of fiction. I think that’s a very very trans narrative, as I mentioned it feels tied deeply into Queer Utopia, and I find it much more bold of a stance to take. In a world where people tell trans individuals (and especially trans women) that their identities are works of fiction or products of the imagination or even caused by excessive media consumption, to embrace these things and turn them over and use them as a symbol of the whimsy and innocence and excitement that first ignites that spark as a positive, thrilling, beautiful thing is very cool.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

I So, So, Right I pt.4

Stepbro! Anakin × innocent reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: smut, inappropriate relationships, oral sex, public/semi-public, demeaning/condescending words toward reader, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, dd/lg dynamics (implied), daddy kink

Info: Modern AU, Anakin is whipped, Anakin literally worships the ground you walk on, reader is accidentally a brat, reader has oral fixation

NOT PROOFREAD

The next few hours of your day were agonizingly boring, you had already paced around the entire house, called your friend to confirm she was still up for your hangout tomorrow, and taken a shower just to have something to do. Your hair wrapped up in a towel and a thin robe wrapped around your frame as you wondered back into the kitchen.

Opening and closing the fridge in hopes that the next time you open it a yummy treat will have magically manifested. Unfortunately the fridge had failed to conjure something, anything appetizing so you settled for leftover lasagna.

With your belly full you retired to your room, scanning your bookshelf and selecting a classic. Tossing it on the bed before digging through your dresser for something comfortable to wear.

“Cozy.” You mumbled to yourself as you pulled out some fuzzy shorts, pushing aside everything else to find the matching shirt.

Huffing in aggravation you slipped on your underwear and the shorts while making the trip from your room to Anakin’s. It wasn’t uncommon for your clothes to get misplaced, sometimes when Anakin puts away the laundry he gets -alittle- impatient with folding. So he often ends up scooping what’s left in the basket into his arms and dropping it in the nearest dresser drawer.

Shuffling through the clothes you felt your hand touch something cool, curious to see what it was you pulled it from its hiding place. It seemed to be a trinket box, a deep blue hard plastic box with a very small latch. You popped it open and immediately recognized some of the items inside.

Movie ticket stubs, rocks you’d collected, the fancy coaster from the restaurant where you’d first met. A box of memories, a box of all things you. Your heart swelled as you picked up the items immediately remembering each moment connected to each precious keepsake.

At the bottom of the shallow box you found one thing that was unfamiliar. A tiny black velvet drawstring bag, hesitant to open it since you’d already invaded his privacy by opening the box in the first place. But what’s the harm right? You’d come this far… might as well take a look.

Carefully opening the bag, you turned it upside down above your open palm. Two metallic items clanked together as they fell into your hand. A simple but elegant ring and a tiny pendant meant for a dainty necklace. You clapped your hand over your mouth with the bag still between your fingers.

Hurriedly tucking the precious jewelry safely back into the bag and arranging the items in the box in the same places you’d found them. You tucked it back into its hiding place, shoving the drawer shut as if it burned you. Shaking out your hands you opened the next drawer and saw the shirt you were looking for laying right on top. Why couldn’t you have opened that one first?

Though the questions you really wanted to ask were ‘Why is his mother’s engagement ring in a box filled with things meant to represent you?’ ‘Where did the pendant come from? Who did it belong to?’

It had been two hours since your discovery and your nerves had finally subsided. You willed your mind to tuck those thoughts into the crevasses of your brain. It’s a trinket box, of course he’d put things like that in there! How silly of you to react in such a way!

You’d tried to read to put your focus into something else, but the words melted together on every page. You groaned in frustration, if only you’d done your own laundry last time! You wouldn’t have ever had a reason to dig through his clothes and you would’ve never seen the box.

Pressing the heel of your palms into your eyes and scrubbing until you saw colored dots. A nap. Yes, that’s what you need. A nice little nap to forget about your invasion of privacy and the troublesome things you’d discovered because of it.

You hopped up to close the curtains then got right back in bed. Pulling the blanket up to your neck and tucking your favorite stuffed animal under your arm, you tried your best to let sleep consume you.

Your blankets rustled, the mattress dipping under the weight of someone slipping into bed with you. Stirring slightly at the feeling of warm skin against your back, a hand stroking your upper arm slowly brought you back to consciousness. Your eyes adjusted to the dark room, only lit by the evening’s sun beams sneaking around your curtains and the bathroom light. Revealing the most beautiful soft smile on the lips of your love.

“Little sleepyhead.” He whispered, pressing his soft plump lips to your forehead.

You breathed in deeply, tucking yourself under his arm and pressing your nose to his neck. Drowning in the scent of his freshly washed hair and still damp body.

“Have you been home long?” You yawned.

“Nah, just about an hour. I didn’t wanna wake you up just yet so I had a bite to eat and a shower.” He nuzzled into your hair, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

“You were gone soooo looong.” You groaned, “I was so bored.”

“My poor girl.” He laughed.

“Don’t make fun of me!” You pouted, pulling back to see his grinning face.

He leaned forward quickly to catch your protruding bottom lip between his teeth. Scrunching his nose and pulling gently, after releasing your lip he placed a soothing kiss over it.

“But it’s so fun.” He laughed.

“Yeah, for you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey, no attitude.” He raised his eyebrows in a challenge, while his gaze stayed stern.

“M’sorry.” Looking up at him with puppy eyes.

“I know you are princess.” he smoothed your hair back, twirling a lock around his finger and bringing it up to tickle your nose.

Something about his tone of voice, how he sounded so confident in that statement, made heat pool between your legs. You felt your cheeks blush, stomach swirling with nerves. Just as you were forming a sentence through the muddy waters of your mind, a noise made you both jump.

“Shit.” Anakin scrambled out of the bed, an obvious erection tenting his loose boxers.

It was Obi-Wan, treading down the hall, quickly glancing at your bedroom door you realized it was unlocked. Anakin had slipped into the bathroom, closing the door as quietly as possible. You laid there, frozen in confusion, why had he run away like that?

Though you didn’t have too much time to wonder, because Obi-Wan’s fist was knocking on your door.

“Come in.” You said, leaning over to turn on your lamp light.

“Hey,” he peeked in, “you feelin’ okay?”

“Mhm, I was just tired is all.” You answered, sitting up.

“Sorry to wake you sweets, your mom sent me up, dinner is ready. Do you know where-“ he started, interrupted by Anakin’s hand coming down on his shoulder.

“There he is!” He laughed, bringing an arm across his body to ruffled his -now fully dressed- son’s hair.

Anakin gave you a sly wink over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Reaching around to flick on your over head light, flashing it a few times for good measure and earning a light scolding from his dad.

“C’mon, leave her be.” Obi-Wan laughed, headed back down the hall.

Anakin stayed in your doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

“You heard the man, gotta leave ya be.” He shrugged, hiding a smile.

“Don’t say things like that!” You threw the nearest weapon you could find, a stuffed animal.

He caught it effortlessly, tossing it to the floor, his playful attitude dwindling. He walked over to you, holding his hand out for you to take. You accepted and let him pull you out of the bed, enveloping you in what would’ve been a sweet and comforting embrace if not for the words he whispered in your ear.

“Are you trying to get in trouble?” His lips brushing your earlobe, “cause it seems like you are.”

“N-no! No I don’t want to!” You whisper shouted, eyebrows turned up in concern.

“My little good girl,” he tutted, gripping the back of your neck, “turned bratty the minute I showed you how I could make you feel.”

His face buried in the gentle slope of your neck, his fingers intwined in your hair tugging gently. His free hand sliding down your back to grip your ass and knead the doughy flesh. His tongue darting out to glide along the soft flesh, drawing a mewl from your eager body.

“I-I’m not a br-brat.” You protested, feeling weak in the knees already.

“Yeah you are.” He growled, pulling your head back by your hair, “but you’re my brat.”

A whimper escaped you, earning a dark chuckle from Anakin.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll help you be good again.” He released you from his strong hands.

“You will?” You asked, hopeful, disappointed with yourself for misbehaving.

“Of course babydoll.” He grinned, pointer finger hooked under your chin. “That’s what Daddy’s here for.”

Oh fuck, a gush of slick dripped from your cunt, wetting your panties. Daddy? Your eyes widened, in awe of how Anakin saying just one word could make you feel so, so many things all at once. He had a knowing look on his face, as if he expected this to be your response. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you with him down the hall.

Dinner concluded without any hiccups, that was until your mother suggested a ‘family movie night’. You couldn’t really say no, Anakin had bumped your foot and very slightly shook his head when you began to protest. Catching you at the sink where you stood scraping off the bits from your plate.

“If we both told them no they’d be suspicious.” He whispered, a hand sneaking to your plump backside, rubbing soothing circles with his knuckles.

“Why?” You asked, hearing the clink of your plate against the silverware in the sink.

“Baby,” he drew the word out, pain in his eyes, “you know we can’t let anyone find out about us.”

“But why?” You pouted, crossing your arms and stomping one foot.

His expression hardened at your defiance which you quickly recognized, fixing your posture and dropping your arms.

“Good girl.” He nodded, adding a sigh, “they won’t understand. No one would understand.”

“Is that why you ran away earlier?” You questioned, his hand coming up to rest against your cheek.

“I want to shout from the rooftops and let everyone know just how much I love you, but I can’t.” He pulled you in close for a tight embrace, cradling your head to his chest protectively.

A soft sniffle met his ears and his heart broke, shattered to a million pieces. This was so selfish of him and he knew it, he knew the consequences, he knew it was wrong. He couldn’t help it though, not when it comes to you. You with the gorgeous smile, the laugh that reminded him of fairy bells, the softness of your voice when you spoke to him in the cover of night.

That’s all you’d be able to enjoy, love under the blanket of darkness.

“Please don’t cry.” He whined and squeezed you tighter, “please, I can’t stand it.”

You simply nodded, rubbing your eyes and nose against his chest to wipe away the tears.

“I’ll find a way.” His voice strong and resolute, “I’ll make sure of it, I promise.”

You both had missed the sound of slippered feet on the kitchen tile, only being alerted to the presence of another person when they let out a sharp breath. You felt Anakin’s muscles tighten, his heart quicken under the warm fabric of his shirt.

He was wracking his brain, to find an excuse and settling on the first thing that surfaced in the waters of panic. He twisted his body and yours in the direction of the noise, you could feel his chest heave in relief. He lifted his arm and brought his finger to his lips, half mouthing and half whispering to his father.

“Boy problems.” He wasn’t lying, he was just omitting that he was the offending boy.

Obi-wan tutted, coming forward to place a loving hand between your shoulders.

“It’ll be alright. Let’s go get your mind off it huh?” He suggested, motioning to the living room.

You peeled yourself out of Anakin’s arms, allowing him to guide you to the living room, taking a seat on the plush carpet in front of the couch.

“I’ll get your mind off it.” He whispered, nipping your earlobe.

You giggled through one more sniffle, and Anakin left your side to grab two throw blankets. Throwing one over you and tucking himself under the other, with his back leaned against the front of the couch he took the remote and flipped through the streaming services.

With your parents settling in above you, you managed to enjoy your time. But of course, half way through the movie you let your head fall back against the couch cushion. Soon after your eyes fluttered closed, Anakin smiled softly at the sound of your tiny snores.

You were jostled around, feeling arms scooping you up. Anakin’s forearm hooked beneath your butt to support your weight and his other pressing your upper body to his securely. You stirred halfway through the journey up the stairs.

“Hmm?” You sleepily took in your surroundings.

“Shh baby, I’m just taking you to bed.” He whispered, pushing open the bedroom door, momentarily removing his arm to lock the door.

Gently he laid you down, rolling you to your side. Hazily opening your eyes you recognized that this was not your bed and you were not in your room. Anakin had put you in his bed, and he was now walking through the bathroom to your room, locking the door in there as well.

You sat up, yawning and wiping the sleep from your eyes, groggy but conscious enough to speak when he re-entered his room.

“M’sorry I fell asleep.” You mumbled, holding out your arms and flapping your hands to beckon him closer.

He of course happily obliged, shedding his tshirt and pants on his way. Slipping into the bed next to you with a comforting hand to your cheek which you gratefully leaned into.

“My poor baby.” He cooed, leaning in to kiss the sleep away.

His lips slotted against yours and you tentatively returned the kiss, soon allowing him to deepen it when your body begged your brain to catch up. Snaking your arms around his neck earned a groan from his lips that were wrapped around your tongue, sucking gently.

Without breaking contact with your sweet mouth he pushed you into the mattress so that he was hovering above you. He spread your legs with a bump of his knee and you eagerly obeyed, allowing him to lower himself against your heated core. A sinful moan of yours was trapped in his mouth when pressed his already throbbing length into the apex of your thighs.

“Just woke up and already begging for my touch.” He snickered, sloppy kisses along your jawline as he snuck his hands under your shirt.

He placed a firm hand on your breast, palming and massaging it while using the other to guide your shirt over your head. With both breasts exposed he descended on them, peppering them with hungry kisses, suckling and nibbling on both nipples, unable to let one go without his attention for too long.

Keening and rolling your hips against him as he attacked your chest provided not relief at all, your body screaming for his eager mouth to travel lower.

“Ani.” You whined, pushing his shoulders gently.

“Not now sweet girl.” He mumbled against your supple flesh.

He smiled as he brought his teeth back down to the gentle slope of your breast, biting and closing his lips around you, tongue flicking against the skin once he released it from his teeth. He let his hands roam, exploring every inch of you. Making sure to find your hand often and give you a reassuring squeeze. His mouth finally delved lower, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake while it traveled the expanse of your abdomen.

“Gotta taste my sweet little pussy.” He groaned, hooking his finger in the waistband of your shorts and yanking them down your legs along with your panties.

The animalistic noise he made when he spread your cunt open for him to see was nothing short of pornographic. Just the sound of him pining over your wetness was enough to make your hole flutter around nothing, making you feel hopelessly empty.

“Please Anakin, please I need it.” You begged.

“Need what princess?” He teased, his hot breath blowing against your cunt.

“Ani!” You pouted, slamming your fists down on either side of you.

“Hey.” He said in a gruff voice, warning you.

You stayed silent, gazing into his softening eyes, hoping your stare would be enough to sway him into giving you what you wanted. Slowly he did, introducing his lips first, chaste kisses from your mound down to your dripping hole. The tip of his tongue retracing those steps to elicit a soft and drawn out ‘oh’ from your kiss swollen mouth.

He gently delved deeper into your folds, humming at the taste of you. It was as if he enjoyed this more than you did if that was possible. From the way his breathing got heavier and the death grip he held on your hips you’d think he was the one writhing beneath you. Eating you wouldn’t be a good enough descriptor, he was - devouring- you, insatiable and aggressive.

His hot wet tongue breached your pussy and dove as deeply as possible, moaning in sync with you. His grip of your hips loosened, freeing up his thumbs to press into your hips, massaging them in circles, adding another layer of pleasure for you. You couldn’t help the trashing of your body, your fist abused by your own teeth and you bit down in hopes to stifle your cries.

“So good baby,” he groaned, suckling your clit, “doing so fuckin’ good f’me.”

“Mhm!” You squirmed, “I wanna be good for you Ani.”

“Shit. I’ll cum before you do if you keep talking like that.” He shivered, rutting into the bed.

He couldn’t let that happen, he needed your cum, he needed his lips coated in your juices like he needed air to breathe. He doubled down, rolling your clit between his teeth in such a way that the white heat in your lower stomach flashed with electricity, shocking your nerves with the sudden and harsh orgasm.

Your body convulsed as you buried your face into the pillow beside you. Painfully swallowing your cries, feeling your hot tears staining the softness of the pillow. Anakin lapped up everything you gave him, every drop coating his chin was licked up by his greedy tongue.

“God I could do this for hours.” He moaned, giving you no down time at all before starting again, the sensitivity made you hiss, kicking your legs involuntarily.

“M’not done.” He growled, holding your legs still.

He reached up beside you, taking the pillow from your face and folding it in half. Lifting your bottom with no effort and sliding the pillow under your lower back.

“What’re you doing?” You whined, trying to close your legs.

“Working this tight cunt open.” he moaned, his middle finger toying with your soaked core.

“Just one okay baby doll?” He asked, tearing his blown out pupils from your glistening cunt to look at you for permission.

Sighing in relief at your eager nod, he dipped the tip of his finger past your folds. Circling the hole gently, and moaning as he oh so slowly pushed into your virgin pussy.

“God.” He grunted through clenched teeth. “Look at my pretty pussy, all f’me.”

“All for you Ani.” You bucked up into his hand, begging for him to pump his thick digit into you.

“You want it? My baby girl wants me to fuck her open with my fingers?” He wasn’t asking, he was just trying to humiliate you.

“Yes!” You whimpered, clenching around him at his condescending tone.

“Squeezing me so tight darlin’.” He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Couldn’t even get another finger in.”

“Anakin, please.” You whined, “please I need more.”

At that he hooked his finger and began dragging the tip across the spongey wall of your pussy, drawing circles as he pumped in and out. Keening at the new sensation had you gripping the sheets hard enough to rip them.

“Can’t baby,” he moaned, “just gotta wait, be patient.”

“No. Anakin!” You whined, reaching down to grab his wrist.

His free hand blocking yours before you could even get halfway.

“Did you just tell me no?” He growled, you shook your head, desperate to shove those words back in your mouth and swallow them.

“You want more? Fine.” He said sternly, “I’ll give you more.”

He immediately started fucking his long digit into your soaked cunt with such fervor that you had to reach above you and grab the head board for support. Without missing a beat he came up from his resting position and towered over your small frame.

“Where did my sweet little girl go huh? It’s like you’re trying to get punished.” He sighed, as if disappointed.

Attacking your mouth with his, you could taste yourself on his tongue as it forced its way past your teeth.

And just like that, with your tongue trapped between his teeth to prevent you from screaming he wrapped his large hand around your neck, cutting off your air supply the second he felt your cunt clamp down on him. Drawing out your second orgasm with a ridiculous amount of force. Your thighs closing when he didn’t remove his hand, still pumping his finger at jackhammer pace.

“Don’t.” He broke away from your lips and wrenched your legs back apart. “You wanted more, so take it you fucking brat.”

“M’sorry Ani!” You whined, pulling him closer with your arms around his neck. “So sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Anakin dove into your neck, sucking in the gentle slope near your shoulder. He was ignoring you in hopes you’d keep apologizing, as disgusting as it was he was getting off on the sounds of your worried voice, it made him feel powerful. You were just his little puppet right now, and he was your puppeteer.

“I wanna be your good girl, please!” You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Please don’t be mad with me Daddy, please I promise to be good.”

Just as he was feeling on top of the world with his baby girl trapped under his thumb, he was shrinking, melting from the one word you’d uttered like a prayer. His eyebrows shot up along with his head, eyes wide as he looked down at you. He softened immediately, and you held back a smirk now that you’d discovered this was his weakness.

“Oh my pretty baby,” he cooed, his hand caressing your side lightly, “you are a good girl.” He leaned down catching your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Really?” You sniffled.

“Yes really,” he sighed, “my baby doesn’t need punishment does she?”

You agreed, shaking your head with a pouty lip and gripping his sandy locks between your fingers.

“Just need Daddy’s cock don’t you baby doll?”

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[kiragecko]

The Canadian Shield

Apparently, the Canadian Shield is a “geologic province”. That just means a large area with a lot of geology in common. I like it because it’s really WEIRD.

The Shield was created by glaciers sliding through. They scraped off all the topsoil and softer rock, and messed up all the watersheds. What developed in the ruins was a maze of endless rivers and lakes, large rocks covered in mosses and lichens, and trees. Lots of trees.¹

There are several things that I think are cool:

the rocks, moss, and lichen

the deranged drainage system

the endlessness

Rocks, Moss, and Lichen

Much of the Canadian Shield is covered in boreal forests (also called taiga). At least, wherever there’s enough dirt. But there is a LOT of exposed rock. And growing on those rocks are the coolest plants/animals in the world – lichens.

Lichens are a symbiosis of algae, fungi, and yeast! Some look like moss – all soft branched stalks. Some look like crunchy fungi or seaweed – growing off the rocks in weird ruffles. Others look like … paint? You know how some rocks will have coloured crusty spots that can be peeled off? Those are lichen! (Some are even powdery, but we don’t get many of those in the Shield.)

Then there’s ACTUAL moss. And moss is almost as cool as lichen! All wet and squishy and ridiculously complex if you look at it closely. Gorgeous stuff!

And finally, there’s the rocks themselves. If you live in an area with rocks, possibly you do not find them breathtaking. But I remember excitedly talking to my parents for SEVERAL MINUTES after seeing a rock in a field, because here in the prairies, you don’t see them.

And these are COOL rocks. Bedrock. Super hard igneous rock that doesn’t wear quickly. It forms cliffs and ravines, despite the fact that the area is quite flat on the macroscale. Canoeing under a cliff face that leans over you is an awe-inspiring experience. Staring down into the depths of the lake below you, seeing that it goes straight down, and then a few feet later the water is shallow. The rocks are big, and full of neat cracks, and pretty coloured, and … they’re good rocks.

Deranged Drainage System

Since the land is made of super hard rock that weathers slowly, and all the watersheds got messed up by the glaciers dumping rocks around the edges of the Shield, water struggles to form normal drainage systems. Rather than starting as small rivers and then combining  as they flow downstream, water just collects in every lowpoint. Thousands of small lakes form, connecting to each other at odd, sometimes hidden, points, with very little predictability. Rapids and waterfalls are common. Shorelines are very irregular, with all sorts of hidden coves. It becomes difficult to figure out what is an island, and what is the mainland.

Looking down from the air, the landscape seems fractal. Sitting on a rock, staring at the opposite shore, it’s obvious that this is true.

Navigating these waterchannels takes a LOT of skill. Mapping them barely helps – the maps are complex enough that it’s hard to absorb the correct information. The Nîhithaw (Cree) navigate by attaching stories to the landmarks, which makes it fun to travel with a guide.

Endlessness

The Canadian Shield is HUGE. It covers over half of Canada! The features that make it up are small, and complex. Most of it is sparsely inhabited. There are few roads; and a lot of areas, travel is either by boat or float plane.

The effect is that of an endless landscape. By plane, you can see more lakes than you can count, all difficult to identify. They stretch to the horizon in every direction.

By boat, you can see many, many interesting  and unique-seeming features. But half an hour later you’ll discover yourself in a spot that looks identical. You’re frequently slipping around blind corners and into narrow, hidden channels, which increases the sense of covering ground. But because you’re rarely going in a straight line, it’s difficult to figure out how far you’ve actually gone. It’s a maze, and it’s possible to travel it for days without seeing a single other human.

(Or you can see multiple groups of people over an hour long trip. It’s very unpredictable.)

That combination of isolation, scale, constantly changing view (that still stays the same TYPE of view), lets me truly  FEEL the vastness. Everything about me gets quiet in the Shield. I’ll suddenly find my face aching from smiling so big for so long. The world is endless and peaceful and not designed for me in the slightest.

It’s exhilarating.

-

¹ There are a few different biomes in the Shield. But the main one, and the one I’ve mostly experienced, is the boreal forest. So that’s the part I’m focusing on. Especially the landscapes of the Whiteshell and northern Saskatchewan.

[salty-an-disco]

here's this silly little thing with Quiet's character progression throughout their loops in my Heathens AU

Originally, was gonna do 3 confirmed loops (as in, the ones I'm gonna go in detail about for my AU, they could be looping indefinitely and never even know, but these are the ones that matter for the story), but decided to go with 4 cuz it fits better for the character arc I have in mind for Quiet

expanded thoughts under the cut

So, I've been roleplaying the Heathens route in my own game as a way to help me flesh out my thoughts on Gary and the routes themselves, and it really helped me solidify my thoughts on their character.

For the first loop, the main idea was just that: 'Baby's First Slaying'

This is Quiet's first time in these woods (that they can remember). They don't know anything else about the world or themselves, only that there's a task they have to fulfill. And while it sounds a bit weird, 'saving the world' sounds like an important thing and maybe something they should try to do.

For the 1st Loop, the routes went as such–

Adversary -> Eye of the Needle: Welp, might as well try to slay this princess!! Unfortunately, Quiet couldn't help talking a little bit, and ended up giving the princess time to retaliate. He didn't back down tho, and gave it his all to slay her.

When he came back, very weirded out by everything, he thought he'd just have to slay the princess again, but no, things are different! The princess is different, she's so much taller and has different things to say! He is honestly fascinated and wants nothing more than to talk to this princess and get to know her more. Unfortunately, that's not what she wants, and the disappointment is almost more hurtful than her crushing his skull.

Witch -> Connected Wild: For whatever reason, the hero really wanted to just save this princess. Forgoing the blade completely and immediately going in to rescue her. He was honestly so excited to meet her, and the door shutting on his face only strengthened his resolve. Then– she began chewing her own arm like a rabid animal. It was like getting hit by a tree branch while sprinting at full speed, and before he could even realize it, he was already stabbing her. Now it's do or don't, he either finishes this or he dies.

He appears back with a weird taste on his mouth and the sudden thought that maybe the princess was always bad news and he just didn't realize it– he still wanna talk things out, see if maybe it wasn't all just a misunderstanding. He still took the knife this time around tho, just in case– The princess seems as suspicious and cautious as he is, and it's obvious she intends on hurting him no matter what he chooses, so might as well go out swing. So you attack. Fighting dirty the same way she is, full of resentment and fear the same way she is, and the two of you get crushed together by the cabin's wilds. When you come back, you do everything you can to not go back to those feelings, and even manage a look into something beautiful–

Next few routes:

Empty Cup: He tried to go through with slaying her this time. He didn't succeed.

Spectre: He did succeed this time! Annnnd that's the reward? Seeing and talking to the princess is much more fun than this, so he helps her out this time.

Happily Ever After: He successfully saved her this time, but this princess was just so…… shallow? Uninteresting? He tried to probe for more but it just seemed to break her, so he suggested staying in the cabin instead, where they both can feel safe. And it worked! Now they can just sit together and eat and play games and not kill each other forever!! So what if they both feel hollow inside? As long as they keep the flames going it's fine, right? ………Right?

Loop 2

The hero is on a path in the woods. But there's something…… dreadful, about this whole thing– a fear he just can't seem to shake off. That no matter what, things will just get worse the more he tries–

While Quiet completely forgets previous loops, there's always a lingering feeling that follows him from previous loops. And the feeling ends up tainting their choices and the routes they go through. For this loop, which I fondly nicknamed it The Dread™️, it's a feeling of fear and paranoia that sticks with him, so of course the first route he gets this time around is–

Nightmare -> Moment of Clarity: He tried to ignore the feeling of dread as much as he could, even ignoring the blade offered to him, he wouldn't let this weird feeling cloud his judgement– and he thought he was doing a pretty good job at it, even refusing to kill or save the princess until he had more information, but theeeeennnnn things started going awry really quickly. He still didn't want to give him to this fear even as he stared down His Nightmare, with his organs just barely holding on, and continued to refuse to make a choice either way till he couldn't anymore.

Next few routes:

The Stranger: Nope. Not even engaging with this cabin–

Wraith from Spectre: OK, fine, let's slay this princess– Oh, you gotta to be kidding me!! (tried to leave Spectre once he saw it was just a ghost, getting Wraith with Paranoid and proceeding to throw her in the pit)

Burned Grey: The Dread™️ didn't leave even in this perfect-looking fairy tale, and is what pushed him to stab her even as she didn't fight it at all.

Wounded Wild from Beast: It was only when looking at what remained of the monster that hurt him, with her heart exposed for everyone to see that he realized– she's just a person. She's been just a person all this time– and he kept hurting her out of a fear of what she could become, not realizing it was him turning her into someone who could only lash out. As he sees all the paths he took in reverse order, he feels empty and remorseful.

Loop 3

That remorse turns into a want to figure out what exactly is going on and how to best help each other in this next loop. He's much more cynical and questioning here, doubting every word the Narrator says, but also not quite able to fully trust the princess just yet. This leads to spiraling routes that only seem to revolve around an endless cycle–

First few routes:

The Cage: I mean– how could he not lol. So intent on puzzling everything out he just traps himself and her all the tighter on this narrative neither of them chose.

Wraith from Nightmare: In his quest to figure things out so that he can do right by her, he only end up re-walking a similar path– the scenery is a bit different, but the destination is the same endless pit.

The Den (with Skeptic): He wanted so badly to reach out to her, to give her a chance to prove his instincts wrong, but the doubts in his mind only trapped them both underneath the earth where they starved.

The Fury from Tower: He tried another already walked path, and was forced to raise the blade to her. The overwhelming divinity he found in the basement by the next time was so difficult to talk through, he felt like he had no choice but to fight against her.

and last, but not least–

The Witch -> The Thorn: once again they were walking towards the basement door, and when Narrator took control of his body, he didn't even bother to look for a way to defy him this time–

Seemed like things were going another eerily familiar path. He kills her, earning her distrust, so they both keep trying to kill each other– till he decided 'no, we're not doing this–' and threw the knife at her feet. It was hard to believe things could really be just as simple as trusting one another to leave the cabin for good, but after everything he's been through, he can only feel relieve drowning out any more doubts he might have.

Final Loop

The Stranger: He can't help it, he still tries to avoid the cabin one last time.

The Damsel: He puts his entire faith and trust on her, and is rewarded by the ability to leave (somehow, it both surprises him and also not at all).

The Witch: He still tried and failed to save her a second time. He's not even all that upset when she shuts the door on his face, and can only smirk at seeing her surprised face when it disappears.

The Spectre: He expected the reward to be lackluster, and already knew he'd be freeing her before even getting to the cabin that second time.

The Prisoner: He couldn't help one small remaining curiosity and went to check the second shackle– patience still rewarded him in the end though.

Then Contrarian is in the final cabin this time, and Quiet throws the blade out the window instead of taking it with him again, "just in case", and they finally break the cycle for good!!! :D

[vodika-vibes]

Can I request the MerSoul AU romance for Echo? Someone needs to get him out of that aquarium ASAP

When The Sun Loves The Moon

Summary: Almost a year ago, a group of local fishermen brought a Merman to the aquarium where you work. You specialize in working with manatees, but the tank where you work is next to the tank where the merman is, and you can’t help but notice that he’s not doing well. And it doesn’t sit right with you.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 2390

Prompt: MerSoul AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things

A/N: So, here it is. Mer Echo in the aquarium. I hope you like it! And sorry that it took so long!

You yawn widely as you sit on the ledge of the tank your manatee calls home, and you stretch your arms over your head. It’s been a long day. Someone brought in a severely injured manatee, and though the veterinarians weren’t able to save her, they were able to save her pup.

Which means you spent a large majority of the day cradling a baby manatee.

Not a bad way to spend the day, but it is exhausting.

You yawn again. You really should go home. It’s so late that it’s already rolled back around to being early.

Although, driving in this condition is a bad idea. You suppose you can just use the employee showers and crash on the couch in the break room. It wouldn’t be the first time.

You pull your legs from the water and get to your feet, and you don’t think twice as you unzip your wetsuit and pull it down to your waist.

Wonderful inventions, wetsuits. Keep the cold out. But they’re absolutely miserable to wear when you’re not in the water.

You climb down the stairs next to the tank and stretch your arms in front of you one more time, trying to work out the kinks in your shoulders, as you walk around the tank closest to the manatee tank. 

You peer into the tank, easily finding the merman sprawled on his “bed”, though you’re sure it’s not at all what he’s used to. He looks…bad. When he first arrived, his tail was vibrant blue and white, but the colors have since faded away to a sickly-looking grey. 

Even his skin tone has changed. The rich color of his skin paling more and more until he’s almost grey. 

You’re worried about him.

The locals who brought him to the aquarium thought that they were dropping off a marvel as if this place was a circus rather than a rehabilitation center for injured sea creatures.

In truth, it was a good thing they brought him here. The circumstances that led to his capture left him with a missing arm and a severely injured tail. If you remember correctly, those first few months he wasn’t even able to swim. The doctors had been forced to put him in a shallow pool to keep him from drying out while they tried to figure out a prosthetic that wouldn’t rust in salt water, and also would allow him to move the way that he was used to.

And, for a time, he was recovering!

He was able to swim well and he was looking healthier and healthier with every passing day.

And then, one day, a couple of months ago…he just stopped. He barely swims, he barely eats, he just lays there.

The doctors removed him to a recovery tank in the back, in the hopes that he’ll go back to his recovery if he has some privacy, but it’s not working.

In fact, he looks even worse.

You bite your lower lip anxiously for a moment, and then you pull your wetsuit back on and you grab the rest of your gear, including the special headgear that will allow you to speak to him.

You hurry up the stairs to the top of the tank and spend a couple of minutes making sure everything is in working order, and then you slide into the water.

It takes a moment for you to get your bearings, but as soon as you do, you swim to the bottom of the tank to where the merman is lying. He’s not asleep. He doesn’t sleep anymore. 

His dark eyes lock onto you as you swim over to him, but he doesn’t move as you carefully check the connection points of his arm and his tail.

“Red and inflamed,” You murmur, more to yourself than him, your touch gentle as you lightly turn his arm to get a better look at the connection site. “Possibly an infection.”

You release him and move to his tail to check the connection there as well, “An infection doesn’t make sense, you were on a huge amount of antibiotics…an allergic reaction to the metal?”

“I’m not sick,” He says, his voice hoarse.

“You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, you’re not swimming,” You list, holding up a finger for everything you say, “And your skin is red and inflamed—”

He shakes his head, “I’m not sick.”

You sigh, “Alright, then what’s the problem?”

His gaze is dull and he turns away from you, “Nothing.”

You swim so that he’s facing you, “Look, I’m not going to just sit here and let you die. Let me help you.”

“So you can put me back in the tank to put on a show for the unwashed masses.”

You pause, “That had nothing to do with me.”

“I see you in the other tank.”

“All of my manatees are too old, too young, or too injured to be returned to the wild. Well, except for Wilbur. He’s here because he’s a criminal.” You counter hotly.

“...how is a manatee a criminal.”

“He has a soft spot for endangered plants, but that’s not the point! My point is that I got this job to help, so let me help.” You lightly touch his shoulder, “Please.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, “What do you know about merpeople?”

“Uh…I must have skipped that lecture.”

His smile is more of a grimace, “Merpeople have soul mates and the day I got sick my bond with my soul mate severed.” He pauses, “And by that, I mean my soul mate broke the bond.”

You’re quiet for a moment, “That’s…” You trail off, and then you steel yourself and you fling your arms around him, “That’s so sad! Is that why you’re sick? Because you’re depressed?”

“I think I’m handling it quite well.” He says as he, hesitantly, wraps his arms around you, “I haven’t gone insane.”

“You just need a new soulmate, that’s all.”

“That’s not how it works. One soulmate per merperson.”

You sigh and pull away, “Look, my mom swears up and down that my dad was her soulmate. But, after Dad died, Mom eventually was willing to put herself out there to find someone else. And I’ll be the first person to admit that my stepdad is probably better for her than my dad ever was.”

“It’s not how it works with merpeople.” His arms are still around you, and you wonder if it’s offering him some comfort, “It used to be, in the past, but here and now, it isn’t.”

“Well, that just means we have to brainstorm.” You pause when your watch beeps, warning you that you are running out of time, “Listen, I’ll be back tomorrow after work. Will you eat? Please? For me?”

He sighs, “I can try.”

You beam at him and carefully extract yourself from his grip and start swimming up, “Oh! What’s your name?”

“...Echo. My name is Echo.”

“Echo.” Your smile brightens, and he averts his gaze, “I’ll see you later today, Echo. I promise.”

“...yeah, alright.”

It’s been four months since you and Echo developed a friendship. Well, you’d call it a friendship, you’re not sure if Echo agrees that it’s a friendship or not. 

But he looks healthier now than he did when you first introduced yourself to him.

He’s still too pale, and his tail is still too grey, but he’s swimming and eating and sleeping. It’s a small victory, maybe, but a victory all the same.

This evening, you’re sitting with your feet in his tank, it was another long day, you lost one of your manatees to old age, and somehow it always feels like losing a member of your family.

So you’re not even wearing your swimsuit, you’re wearing shorts and a tank top. Even lost in your sorrow, you still favor Echo with a small smile when he surfaces to talk to you.

“You look good today,” You note as you scan his face, “You have some more color in your face.”

He shrugs, “I asked for a specific type of meal the other day and they’re listening to me for a change.” Echo scans your face, “You don’t look so hot, are you okay?”

“We lost one of the manatees today, he was nearly 50 years old.” You shrug, “It kind of feels like I lost a member of my family.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, “It happens. Circle of life, right? I’ll be better tomorrow.”

Echo moves and props himself up on your legs, “I heard a rumor,” He starts, “That you’ve been pushing for them to release me.”

“Well…yeah. I have.” You smile at him, “I’ll miss you, but you don’t belong here.”

“Are they actually going to let me go?” Echo asks, doubtfully.

“They are. Tomorrow night.” You smile at him brightly, “And I’ll be there too when they release you, just to make sure it happens.”

Echo stares at you, “I’ll miss you.”

“Well, you won’t miss me that much. You’ll have your family, your friends. You’ll forget all about little ole me.”

“I doubt that.”

“I’m sure you will. I’ll just be a footnote in your story. The human who made you take care of yourself.” You grin at him, “And I’m okay with that.”

Echo blinks at you, and then he surges up and catches your lips with his own.

His lips are cold and a little salty, but his kiss is deep and more passionate than you feel like you deserve. But you can’t seem to keep yourself from leaning into his kiss and cupping his cheek with your hand.

Echo breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, a smile on his handsome face, “What happened to ‘destined to be alone’?” You ask, slightly breathlessly.

“I decided that it sounded boring.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Echo’s nose bumps against yours, “Besides, you’re like the sun, how could I not want you with me?”

You scrunch your nose, “Like the sun?”

“Warm, bright,” He leans in so his lips are ghosting against yours, “Being in your presence makes me burn brighter.”

“So…that would make you the moon then?” You joke.

“Well, it does explain why I want to be in your orbit.” He kisses you, soft and sweet, “Will you visit me? After I’m released?”

“As often as I can. You know how much I work.” You brush your thumb across his cheekbone with a fond smile, “You’ll probably get tired of me.”

“Never.” He pulls you in for another kiss, and you melt into him. Well, this just isn’t fair. Now you’re really going to miss him.

The following night, you’re sitting on the dock of the ship peering into the ocean, while Echo sits next to you in a shallow pool that’s usually used for baby manatees.

“Are you comfortable?” You ask, tearing your attention away from the white-capped waves to look at Echo.

He makes a face, “As comfortable as I can be.” He flicks the water, “This pool is humiliating.”

“Be grateful that I didn’t put any of the pool toys in there with you.” Echo huffs and flicks water at you, making you laugh. “Will your brothers be meeting you?”

Echo shakes his head, “I’ll make it home on my own. And then I’ll spend some time with Kix getting fitted for prosthetics that work in the deep sea.”

You frown slightly, “Ours aren’t any good then?”

He reaches out and smoothes the lines off your brow with his thumb, “They work just fine, but something a little more is needed at the depths I live at. Don’t fret, sunshine. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

He grins at you and then settles back in the pool, “I’m a grown man, there’s no need to worry.”

You stick your tongue out at him and then lean over the edge of the boat to watch the water some more. You’re vaguely aware that Echo is humming behind you.

It’s a nice tune, soft and soothing, like water running over river stones. 

You lean back to look at him, “I’ve never heard that tune before,” You say, “Is it from your home.”

Echo blinks at you, startled, “You can hear it?”

“Well, yeah. Humming makes noise, Echo.” You tease.

He stares at you for a moment, and then a small smile lifts his lips. The smile is different from the usual way that he smiles at you, there’s something quietly adoring in the way he’s looking at you, and it makes you shift uncomfortably.

“What?”

“The only person who would hear that song is my soulmate.” His smile grows, “You.”

You stare at him, “I’m your—?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” You absently trail your fingers in the shallow water of the pool he’s sitting in, and then you smile, “Well then, I guess I’ll definitely be visiting you, won’t I?”

He laughs softly, “And I suppose now it’s not horribly inappropriate for me to say that I love you.”

Your face heats and you splash him with some water, “No, I guess it isn’t.” You don’t look at him, “I don’t know if I love you, but I do know that I like you and I'd like to see how this goes.”

“Good enough for me!” He says as he takes your hand in his prosthetic and brings it to his lips to ghost a kiss across your knuckles, “I have so much to teach you.”

“You have to heal first, teach me later.” The boat slows to a stop, and you lightly tap his cheek with your fingers, before you stand, “Ready to go home, Echo.”

His gaze locks with yours, “More than ready.”

You move over to the panel that controls the pool, and you press a series of button, opening the bottom of the boat, “I’ll see you later, Echo.”

“The beach in two weeks. I’ll see you then.” And then Echo is gone. You don’t close the bottom of the boat until you can no longer see him beneath the water, and then, with a sigh, you seal the boat back up and wave up to the man at the wheel.

“Take us home!” You call.

“Aye aye, ma’am!”

You already miss Echo…but you’ll see him again soon. You know it.

[seresinhangmanjake]

now that i have you

dad!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: It's time you and Jake tell your daughter the truth about who her father is. Jake just hopes she can show forgiveness so the three of you can be what he's always wished to have: a family.

warnings: nothing really. mistakes likely.

Notes: this is the second and final part of Your Way Back to Me, which is an Oh, Baby AU. You don't need to read Oh, Baby to read this two-part fic.

words: 2600

---

She wasn’t confused; that was what Jake noticed first. Despite the closeness between his body and yours, the surely obvious connection of your energies, Eve’s face remained blank. He figured maybe she was tired, weak, disoriented from where she was and how she ended up there, but no. She proved rather quickly to be alert, aware, and remembering. And yet, unnoticing of the deep unbreakable bond he shared with her mother. Odd for someone so perceptive. 

She held on to your hand as tightly as you did hers. And from that, Jake realized there was a mutualness there. You both far surpassed the titles of mother and daughter. You were friends, caretakers of one another, protectors to the best of your abilities. Made equals to support each other in the absence of a husband and father. 

There was a pang in his chest. He wanted to be equal with you and his daughter. He wanted to be a part of his family. He so wished to easily slip into the role he’d never known belonged to him until you walked back into his life. But that potentially was a long road to be traveled; one that would blend into the horizon rather than show a clear end.

To Jake’s surprise, once you were positive Eve was fine and you were reassured of her safety, you didn’t wait a second longer. You stared right into the green of her eyes—of his eyes—and bared the truth before her.

“Jake is your father.”

He waited for the widening of eyes; a jaw dropping; an involuntary cough, maybe, to help keep her breathing moving along after momentarily forgetting how to do so. But again, no. 

Instead, Eve looked between you and him and you again—her stare lasting just a touch longer on Jake’s stunned face. Then she said, “I know.” But when neither you nor Jake responded, entirely frozen from the shock Eve forced upon you both with those two little words, she continued. “I mean, I’ve…suspected.”

You were the first to shake yourself out of your rigid state. “H-How is that possible?”

Eve’s eyes slid over to Jake. 

He did his best to pull himself back to the surface for her, his daughter. She needed him put back together—brain wiring untangled—in order to acknowledge whatever she was about to say. And he just barely had himself reconnected to the moment when Eve’s lips finally parted. 

“You approved my leave the weekend my grandmother was in an accident and ended up in the hospital,” she said and Jake nodded, recalling the worry on her face when she approached him two months prior. “When I went home after visiting the hospital, I looked for the family album.” 

Beside him, Jake could see you slouch slightly in your seat, as if you already knew what was coming, and feared it. 

“I just wanted to see old pictures of her,” she spoke to her mother. “But I found the photos you had tucked in the back. The ones of the two of you.” With a nudge of her head Jake’s way, she said, “There’s one of you in uniform. And I was always told my father was a pilot.”

Everyone took a breath to soak it in. Each breath different. Yours deep and long, Eve’s surprisingly stable, and Jake’s too shallow to truly qualify as a breath. 

His girl had known. For a while now. And she’d never said a word, but rather kept it bottled inside. Another occasional habit of Jake’s that he could now see he’d passed down to his child. He’d have preferred that not to be the case. But maybe she would grow out of it one day. Jake had, after all. His emotions struggled to hide after you’d told him how you felt about him all those years ago. He no longer wanted to keep them locked away, anyway. But when you left in the dead of night, he didn’t have a choice. Those emotions came flooding out of him. Relentless and unbearable. And there was no putting a cap back on that bottle.

Jake then tried to think back, shuffling through his more recent memories. He only found further confirmation of the behavior he wished his daughter had not inherited. 

Not once did he notice the most miniscule of shifts in Eve’s demeanor over the last couple of months. Because, it seemed—even looking at her now—that she really hadn’t changed with the news. Perhaps it was also due to their established relationship. He’d treated her like his daughter from the second he was smacked upside the head with the reality of her potential. Realizing she was like him, with her drive and stubbornness and wit, brought out the fatherly nature he’d deep down always sensed within. In the presence of her pure talent, he felt at home. And if painful circumstances hadn’t taken away his chance to be with the woman he’d never ceased loving, the woman he’d hoped to share children with, he would’ve much earlier fulfilled his instinct to guide and care and protect. Eve was the closest thing, so he’d held on to that bond with a fist so tight, nails could’ve punctured the skin of his palm. 

“We’re similar in a lot of ways,” Eve said to her newly found father, drawing him out of his thoughts. She was quite good at that. Then she shrugged in her seated position atop the hospital bed. “It made sense.”

“You…” you began, but there was a halting of your voice. Jake grabbed your hand as you swallowed. “You never said anything.”

There it is, Jake thought, glancing at his daughter after your words settled around the three of you. Eve’s mouth, shoulders, spine, slumped just a bit. The first hint of real emotion to show since you and Jake arrived at the hospital to see her. It was in there somewhere.

She looked down at her hands, picking at her thumbnail. A nervous habit. Your habit. “I didn’t want to be told I was wrong,” she said. 

In that very simple statement, Jake heard the voice not of a grown woman, but a little girl. A little girl sad and scared of how much the truth might break her heart. Santa Claus isn’t real. Your favorite cartoon characters don’t exist outside of your television. You still don’t know who your father is. 

She wanted to be right, Jake understood then. She wanted it to be him. 

He wished to hop out of his seat and wrap her up in his arms, hold her close, whisper promises that he was there for her now and would always be, but he held himself back. If Jake knew anything, it was that too much emotion at once could throw someone over the edge. For a girl who now looked ready to cry but unwanting to do so, a simple hug could very well be enough to make her explode with sobs. He wasn’t sure. So he didn’t risk it. 

You leaned forward in your seat, and Jake released your hand so you could give both to your daughter. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

Eve nodded. When she looked up, the tears seemed closer. Eyes slightly redder. “You had your reasons?” was asked with a detectable twinge of hope.

“Yes,” you replied, running one of those hands up and down her, thankfully, undamaged arm. “But they aren’t good enough. I loved your father when I left him. And I left him in the worst way.” 

Knowing you as well as he did, Jake didn’t have to look at your face to know that you weren’t able to hold out as long as Eve. Tears of your own were running down your cheeks. 

“The truth of it, sweetheart, is that we could have been together—” you continued, pushing through noticeable discomfort, “all of us—if I had just taken a moment to…breathe. But I was so scared that I’d forgotten how. And it didn’t occur to me that your father, and the support he would’ve given me, could’ve been that breath. Not until it was too late.” 

That bit of sadness in Eve’s eyes was beginning to mix with a welcomed anger. It wasn’t strong, not yet ripe, but it was there. Jake could feel it. Which meant you could, too. A slight bite was in her next words. “How was it too late?” 

You shook your head, leaning down to rest it atop your joined hands. Five painfully long seconds passed before you lifted your head again so you could press a to kiss her scraped knuckles. “It wasn’t,” you muttered. 

That was the exclamation point on the conversation that had no choice but to end when the doctor walked back into the room. Three people, with great practice, righted themselves in the presence of another. Silent so they could listen. But that silence remained long after the doctor had gone.

—

He’d managed to lull you to sleep. With his arm snuggly around your waist; and kisses on your neck; with words at your ear of how strong you were for saying what you had, and how thankful he was that you had that strength, eventually had your eyelids fluttering closed. Jake would take that little blessing. He feared you’d struggle to sleep forever after seeing your daughter hurt the way she was.

Eve still hadn’t spoken to you. By default, she hadn’t spoken to Jake, either, seeing as he didn’t leave your side. When you told him you were going straight to his bedroom, he thought he might have the chance to check on his daughter, but Eve had done the same, making her way to the guest room Jake had offered and closing the door behind her. 

With you now resting, Jake was nearly drifting off as well, but soft footsteps on the hardwood flooring of his hallway pulled him out of bed and away from you. He glanced at your sleeping face one last time, kissed your cheek, and threw a t-shirt over his torso.

Eve moved throughout the house as if she had been there before. As if she belonged there. As if it had been hers from the day of her birth. 

She’d easily found her way to the back deck hanging off the house that overlooked a lush lawn. Her arms were crossed and resting on the cedar railing when Jake joined at her side.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same,” she said, still staring ahead. “Isn’t it past your bedtime or something?”

Jake chuckled. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” 

His smile immediately died to a flinch, his features screwing as he internally cursed himself for being so bold. Her father he was, but he hadn’t been there for the instances where that question would have been most appropriate. He wasn’t there to ask it when a little Eve might have woken at midnight to sneak her way downstairs to steal a cookie. Neither was he there when she likely arrived home too late from a party, thinking she managed to evade a lecture only to be so, so wrong. And he felt stupid for asking it now, however teasingly. 

Jake cleared his throat. “I know it’s a lot to take in,” he said. “If it’s too much—”

“It’s not too much,” Eve interjected. “I’ve been ninety-five percent sure of it for two months. And I’m happy about it,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “I am. You were like a father to me already. Maybe that’s why it didn’t feel like my whole life was flipped on its side when I found out.”

A rush of pride swelled Jake’s chest and he let his tight features settle. 

“I just didn’t think–” Shaking her head, she turned her stare forward again. “I thought she’d have more for me than being scared. I don’t know why, but I guess I expected there to be some grand misunderstanding between you. Or that maybe you had a bad breakup. Something just a bit more logical would’ve been nice.”

Jake agreed, though he didn’t say so aloud. He’d felt more joy than pain in the last day and a half, and it was enough to keep him from falling to pieces. Having you and Eve now was his everything. It didn’t fix the past, but it illuminated his future. And he hoped Eve might feel the same, but there clearly was a steady balance to her internal war. 

“How did you forgive her so quickly?” she asked.

Leaning forward to match her stance, Jake said, “I didn’t.”

“No? Why not, when it’s obvious you two are back together.”

Jake couldn’t tell if it was said with frustration or bitterness, or if he was just projecting his fear of Eve thinking he was picking sides by not being furious with you for what you’d done. There was no real way to know. So, with honesty fueling his heart, he sighed and said, “Your mother and I were never meant to be apart. But that doesn’t mean instant forgiveness.” He took in a deep breath and released it slowly before continuing. “I’m devastated, Eve. I think about the life I missed with you and it rips me to shreds. I think about your mother, and how no woman that followed ever came close to who she is to me. I think about how a family was at my fingertips, and it slipped right through them as if the two of you were made of air.

“At the end of the day, though, I will forgive her because I want to forgive her,” he said. “I went without you and your mother for more than two decades and the thought of that continuing a day longer makes me sick to my stomach.”

Eve hummed. Her fingers clasped over the railing and squeezed. “Do you really believe we can just pick up and be a family?”

“Sure.”

When his daughter returned her stare to his face, Jake shrugged. 

“Who’s gonna stop us,” he said with a soft curve of his lips, “if that’s what we all want.”

What Eve wanted was to be alone. Jake could see it written across her features. When she was too hard on herself for making a mistake in the sky, she would always land with that same look on her face. Then she’d go off for some alone time to process what couldn’t at the moment be put into words. 

Standing on the deck hanging off the back of his house, overlooking a lush lawn, Jake knew Eve was out of words for the night. So he left her with one more thing to hopefully consider. 

“Eve, whatever you decide, I won’t hold it against you,” he swore, selecting his words carefully. He wanted her to hear him; really hear what occupied his heart and head. “But I need you to know that I want to be a part of your life, for every second that’s left of mine.”

Minutes that felt like hours passed in silence before Jake walked back from the edge of the deck to the door. He was almost through it when Eve twisted around. 

“Dad,” she called, causing Jake to one-eighty as quickly as she had. 

He braced himself against the door frame, trying not to fall to his knees from the suddenness of the new name she’d gifted him. Then he swallowed hard and raised a blond brow in question. 

She had more words after all. Just a few. But they were enough.

“I will,” she said with a nod. “Because I want to.”

—

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @demp @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @abaker74 @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mamachasesmayhem @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie @ateliefloresdaprimavera

[theblueprincess590]

The Heart of a Toy-An Analysis of KH3

Ever since finishing Kingdom Hearts 2 Nomura has been insistent on including Toy story in Kingdom hearts 3 even going as far as to say in an interview with Jen Simpkins from GameRader’s Edge Magazine, “After we were done with Kingdom Hearts II and were starting to consider III, we started talks with Disney, I remember saying, ‘If we can’t use Pixar, then we can’t have a third game.’ It’s that important to the game series,” (Nomura). And it’s clear to see why Nomura put so much importance on Toy Story once you realize how much its story connects to and reinforces the themes and mythos of Kingdom Hearts.

Toy Box is a magical world. While it appears to be the same of our own it holds a great secret, Toys are alive. When a child looks away a Toy springs to life revealing a heart of their very own, but that begs the question, how does a toy possess a heart? In Kingdom Hearts 3 we learn the answer. A toy is given a heart by the love of children. When a child looks upon a toy they do not see a cheap piece of plastic but instead they see a friend with a heart of its own to be loved and cherished. And it is that belief which truly gives the toys a heart. This is what Woody means when he says the Toys within Galaxy Toys have yet to figure it out. That they have yet to realize the love of a child and thus are empty shells without a heart of their own.

As Young Xehanort himself points out this draws heavily parallels between the toys and Nobodies, both incomplete creatures searching for their missing Half, but this parallel isn't just there to establish why the heartless can possess the empty toys. The point of this Parallel is to answer a question that has haunted the narrative of Kingdom Hearts since the events of KH2, Why does Roxas have a heart?

Roxas, just like his somebody, is an anomaly in the world of Kingdom Hearts. He is a nobody that bears neither the face nor the memories of his original self. He is more shallow than any other nobody, less a body without a heart and more a broken shell. Yet not only was Roxas the first nobody to grow a heart but said heart was his alone. Throughout the events of Days Roxas grows from a barely living husk of a man to one who definitely proclaims his own existence and personhood. And this is thanks to the bonds forged in his first year. Just like how a Toy is given a heart through the eyes of a child Roxas was given a heart by those that were drawn to him. From those he shared ice cream with under the twilight sky, the trio he befriended ever so slightly on a lazy afternoon, the fairy tale heroes his somebody cherished, and even the forgotten longing of brothership from the King of Nothing Roxas began to be shaped by those around him. His soul is learning the rules of the world, the nature of a heart, the simple joys of friendship, the sting of betrayal, and the heartbreak of goodbyes. As Roxas’s newborn heart grew with every day he too gained the ability to see the hearts of others whether it be in the Flurry of Dancing Flames whose false smile became true or the Puppet who became a Real Girl. But perhaps the final proof of Roxas' heart lies with his own “Andy”. Sora at first refused to see his “Woody”, whether it be or out of ignorance or prejudice Sora denied Roxas existence, refusing to heed the clues of the other half or feel his presence in his heart. That is until Roxas forced Sora to acknowledge him. Within the very core of his heart Sora came face to face with Roxas and was forced to acknowledge their connection through the Keyblades in order to win the fight. With Roxas’s tragedy laid before him Sora is at last ready to accept the truth and later on in the realm of sleep acknowledge not only Roxas’s existence but that he has a heart of his own. Just like how Andy gave woody and Buzz hearts by writing his name on them, Sora gives his Nobody a heart by acknowledging him as his own person.

While Toy Box Provides many answers it also raises a new question. If A toy gets its heart from a child’s love what happens when a toy becomes worlds apart from its kid? This question plaques Buzz throughout the events of Toy Box. With every possessed toy they defeat Buzz sees himself in them more and more. He fears that as he continues to drift away from Andy he too will lose his heart and become just another lifeless puppet . Ironically enough it is this very fear of separation that allows the darkness to grow inside Buzz making him another weapon for the heartless. In contrast to Buzz Woody is able to resist the pull of darkness. Woody has already dealt with the fear of separation first through his anxiety over being replaced by Buzz as Andy's favorite toy and second when he became paranoid over the idea of Andy abandoning if he broke. Both events taught Woody something important that yes his time with Andy is not permanent, that someday they will part but that doesn't mean their bond will ever end. Thanks to the events of Toy story 1 and 2 Woody has the resolve to face the hardships of Young Xehanort’s trials and keep his faith in Andy. And this is why Woody is the one to challenge Young Xehanort.

ToyBox is ultimately an encapsulation of the themes of Kingdom Hearts. This can be seen through the many parallels between The World and KH as a series. We’ve already pointed out the connection between the toys and Nobodies but what about how the world is split in two just like in dream drop Distance. Or how about the toy's separation from Andy mirrors Sora’s separation from Riku and Kairi in KH1 with Woody managing to resist the pull to darkness and put his faith in the light because he knows the true strength of a heart thanks to his connections. And lets not forget Buzz’s possession calling back to Riku and Terra’s fall to darkness. Even Buzz’s salvation continues to draw parallels between him and Riku with how they are both saved from the darkness by their friends never giving up on them. Yes Toy Box is a world built up from the ground to parallel the events of Kingdom Hearts, but why is that? Why out of all the other worlds in KH3 was this one chosen to hold a mirror directly to Sora’s journey? Well that's simple because the story of Toy Story is at its core a story about friendship, about how bonds can last forever even if the time spent together is finite.

There is another purpose however for Why Toy Box is set up this way. Toy Box’s main role in the overall narrative of Kingdom Hearts 3 is to be a test trial for his destined clash with Master Xehanort. The main antagonist of Toy Box is Young Xehanort who split the world in two and took the toys away from Andy in order to conduct an experiment. Said experiment was to see whether or not a toy is not only capable of having a heart but if they can carry darkness. This is all done as part of the True Organization's goal to achieve their final vessel but as the world’s story progresses it becomes Clear that Young Xehanort has his own reasons for doing all this. Young Xehnaort wishes to use this experiment to validate himself. Young Xehanort is the earliest version of Xehanort and thus represents his cynical beliefs at their most immature. He believes that not only is darkness the heart’s true nature but that strength comes from isolation. That it is not bonds and connections that make a heart strong but instead the never ending darkness that is born from fighting alone. It is a fundamentally childish ideal not born from understanding but instead self serving cynicism. And that is why Young Xehnort was chosen to be the villain of this world as his childish ideals serve as the perfect test run for Sora, allowing him to confront a weaker version of Xehnort’s ideals and see just how far his own ideals can stand up against him. Ultimately Sora manages to pass the test but not without some help. In the End Woody is the one to ultimately confront Young Xehanort and Save Buzz. Using his maturity Woody is able to shut down Young Xehanort’s childish worldview and break the darkness imprisoning Buzz. So While Sora is victorious in the end it does beg the question, Is Sora truly ready to confront Master Xehanort?

Source

https://www.kh13.com/news/edge-magazine-interviews-tetsuya-nomura-and-tai-yasue-on-pixar-in-kingdom-hearts-iii-the-switch-to-unreal-engine-4-and-more-r2799/

[hey-august]

250 Follower Event - Short-Cut Ending

Hey, so another project that I've had on the backburner for a while and I'd like to give it some sort of resolution. 😅

Back in February (wow time flies), I started an event to celebrate having 250 followers, which involved prompt lists and short stories. There were 14 items to pick from and I got through 10 of them before letting the event go cold. Here's the tag with all the filled prompts.

Here we are, 8 months later, and it's time to finish this off! Rather than writing stories, I did short lists for what each prompt would have entailed and where it would fit in the larger story.

And - surprise! - although the event was SFW stories, I did have an idea for a NSFW bonus, which I've included at the end. 😘

WC: ~700 Warnings: buggy x gn!reader. The 4 prompts are SFW, no other warnings for those. For NSFW - insertion sex, reader receiving.

Rock 🪨

Not yet in a relationship

Buggy notices that you have a collection of things in their room. Sea shells, gemstones, geodes, little carved figures, etc.

He wants to gift you something, so he gets you a rock. Not a gem or a geode, not a crystal cluster, just a rock he found on the shore that he thought looked nice and wanted to give to you.

This would connect back to Portrait, which mentions gem and sea stones on the shelf in the room you two share.

Heat 🤒

Not yet in a relationship

You or Buggy gets sick and the other had to care for them. I thought about making it where everyone but you gets sick, so you run yourself ragged trying to give everyone the minimal amount of care (water, food, some fresh air).

As everyone is finally getting better, you get sick and wake up in Buggy's bed.

I think this would have crossed over with Sing, where one of them sings a little lullaby while the other is resting.

Dream 😴

Established relationship

You or Buggy would wake up after a bad dream and get comforted.

If it was you having a nightmare, Buggy would probably shake you awake.

If Buggy was having the bad dream, I think you'd be so startled and Buggy would wake up shortly after startling you.

I'm not sure which this would pair with - Maybe Heat (listed above) since they're sharing a bed, or Cat because it would be comforting to fall back asleep with your partner and your pet nearby.

Treasure 🎁

This woulda been the grand finale once all the other prompts were completed!

You and Buggy would be on an island, walking through a forest, crossing a shallow river, etc etc until you find the spot for treasure. Your treasure - you're going to bury a time capsule!

And in the capsule are trinkets and memories from the previous stories - a cat toy, drawn portraits, an empty snack bag, a dried flower, a rock, buttons that Buggy sewed on your clothes, a bottle… I don't think every story has something that would go in the time capsule (either I forgot about this plan while writing, or changed my mind and don't remember that lolll), but a good amount do.

Maybe this would end with a cutesy kiss. Mwah!

~~~

Oh wait, the idea I had for a NSFW bit too? hehehehe

It would occur some time after you joined the crew and after the massage, but you're not in a relationship yet.

It's a stormy night. Rain, lightning, some thunder. The waves aren't huge, but enough to sway the ship back and forth.

Buggy comes across you standing in a doorway and watching the rain fall on the deck. You're enthralled - the storm is wild and magical.

You're holding out a hand to feel the water. The rocking from the ship is sending rain inside, wetting your feet.

Buggy steps out into the rain and invites you to join him. He's holding out a hand, which you reach out and grab.

You two dance in the rain, under the heavy clouds and sparks of electricity. Sometimes Buggy lifts you off the wooden floor and swings you around a little. You're both laughing, smiling, and having fun getting soaked.

When you finally step back into a covered area, there's something. An unspoken thing. Water is dripping from hair and clinging to eyelashes. Another crack of lightning. Then a kiss.

You and Buggy have sex right there, against a wall. It's a bit quick, but intimate. Wet enough to create some awkwardness, because clothes are clinging and don't give as easily.

Also, dad bod Buggy, but he's less nervous since you saw his tum once before and liked it.

I, uh, didn't think about how exactly this would end. I just wanted dancing in the rain and wet sex.

Let's say everyone finishes and Buggy offers to let you use his bathroom to freshen up and get warm. You step out after cleaning yourself up, and Buggy already has some dry clothes (his clothes) set out and says you can stay the night, if you want.

And you do, of course.

[kirkwall-tourism-department]

Extra Reading, Ch.3

the amount of effort it takes me to not let stuff that's supposed to be fluffy and happy slip into angst and sadness is crazy

i would not say i was totally successful this time

Her eyes burned from strain, a pounding headache resonated inside her skull, and her body had a heavy weight of exhaustion pressing down on it. While it was impossible to tell the time of day from her windowless room in the Lighthouse, she could tell from her physical state that she had gone a night without sleep, but it was worth it. She had done it. 

She read a book.

An achievement that long seemed impossible, reserved for those with better upbringings and more intelligence than her. But thanks to the professor, she did it. And she knew the first person to tell the news to.

Bolting up from her bed, she ran to Emmrich’s door, lights already peering out from his door. Walking up to it, she lightly knocked against it. As time passed without her question being answered, doubt started to creep into her mind, a sensation that had been forgotten to her until a few weeks ago. Would he be annoyed by her bothering him this early? It was hard to imagine him irritated at somebody, but maybe this would be what did it. Maybe he slept with his lights on and she was waking him up. What if-

Light filled the hallway, banishing the gloom that lingered in the hallways of the lighthouse. Emmrich stood in the open doorway with a drowsy smile on his face. “Good morning, Rook. I must admit my surprise at your presence- I don’t think I’ve ever seen you awake at this hour.” 

“I sort of forgot to sleep last night… but I finished it! I finished the book!” she exclaimed, smiling so wide her cheeks started to ache. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this.  Normally, her happiness felt like a shallow puddle, based on nothing but an indifference to the troubles surrounding her. This time, it was an endless ocean, rooted in a sense of accomplishment she hadn't felt since her first battle as a Warden.

“Rook, that’s wonderful!” he congratulated her, stepping aside and motioning her into the room. Crossing the threshold, the familiar sights of the room greeted her. The comforting glow and crackle of the fireplace, the subtle whispers of incense that hung in the air after his rituals, and the chair she had claimed as her own, draped in a blanket Emmrich had found for her when she had appeared cold. In the past week, she spent more of her waking hours here with Emmrich than in her own room. “Would you like to discuss it?”

“Yes! I have a lot of thoughts, professor. I love that I get to say that.” she responded, sitting down in her chair, wrapping herself in the plush blanket. Emmrich sat at his desk, and gave her a look of pride that made her heart skip a beat. “Given the Warden’s love of secrecy, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised about how much of this I didn’t know but… the whole thing with the Commander of Soldier’s Peak going crazy and needing to be forced to go on his Calling made me think a lot about how long the First Warden has been doing his job. And if what happened then might be happening now.”

“And that is precisely why we must study history!” Emmrich exclaimed, beaming at her with satisfaction, jewelry singing as he gesticulated with his hands. “To understand the past is to understand the present. I can’t tell you the joy it brings me to see you find those connections. If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been a Warden?”

“Seven years.”

“I suppose that would explain your skill on the battlefield.”

Rook tried to fight away the blush rising on her face, giving a small shrug, unsure of how to respond to so much praise.  “One thing I wondered about- the only names he mentions are commanders. It makes it sound like they did everything. Obviously, they do a lot, but in my experience, they wouldn’t be able to get anything done if they didn’t have soldiers underneath them helping. Just makes me think of how many things are being credited to the commander’s whose names actually got written down somewhere when it may have been their subordinate actually getting the work done.”

“I… you’re absolutely correct.” Emmrich responded, a faraway look in his eyes. “I think you may have just changed how I interpret historical texts. This is one of the things I was hoping to gain from leaving the Necropolis- different perspectives. We tend to be such an insular community, we forget about the diversity of experiences in the world above us.” Emmrich spoke like he was conducting an orchestra, hands moving alongside his voice to help punctuate his sentences. It was difficult not to get distracted by all the golden jewelry adorning his arms when he gestured like that. Her fascination with everything that seemed expensive was the origin of her nickname after joining the Wardens- after growing up in the squalor of the alienage, seeing the ostentatious livery some of the senior Wardens wore distracted her with thoughts of envy and awe. Once it had happened enough times, the other recruits started calling her Rook- like she would try and steal the shining ornaments of her superiors to bring back to her nest. Despite the implications of the name, she had been welcoming of a new identity, hoping her old name would simply wash away with time. “Rook?”

“Sorry, what?” she apologized, snapping out of her thoughts. Emmrich stared at her, clearly expecting a response to a question she hadn’t heard.

“You seemed to be distracted.”

“Sorry again, it’s just… the jewelry on your arms. It’s really pretty.” she explained, somewhat embarrassed to have to admit how easy it was to draw her mind away from the topic at hand. 

“You think so?” Emmrich questioned, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Is that surprising?”

“I’ve just never seen you wear anything like it.”

“There’s no way I could afford something like that!” she laughed, imagining the absurdity in stretching the pittance she got as a Warden enough to afford golden jewelry. Emmrich’s eyes fell from her face in embarrassment at her retort, and the easy cadence of their conversation ground to a halt.

“My apologies for bringing up the matter.”

“It’s really not an problem.” she reassured him, the absence of his standard calm affability making her feel uneasy. She wanted to get him back as fast as she could. “What’s your next assignment for me?”

“I found a history of the Wardens in the Free Marches, like you asked.” he prefaced, clearly thankful Rook moved them though their conversational hiccup so quickly. “But the language is a bit… verbose. I apologize if this appears condescending, but I fear you may have trouble reading it without assistance.”

“That’s fine. It’ll be a good excuse to spend more time around you.” she smiled at him. For the first time since meeting him, Emmrich looked flustered. His eyes went wide, slight color appeared in his cheeks, and his mouth opened slightly in surprise. Satisfaction rose in her chest at her ability to make someone as dignified as him blush. As much as she hated to admit it, she had been hoping to break his composure like this since they first met at the Necropolis. She wasn’t sure where her innate desire to ruin beautiful things came from, but it certainly extended to Emmrich. After a few moments, he regained his typical poise before giving her a slight smile.

“You never have to find excuses, Rook. I’ll always welcome your company.”

—

This was a poor decision.

Emmrich paced his room, turning a small jewelry box over in his hands. It contained a small silver bracelet with a single blue gemstone inlaid between the delicate metal chainlinks. He had picked it up in Nevarra City earlier in the day, his conversation with Rook from the previous morning lingering in his mind long after she left him. He had been telling himself it had no deeper meaning than a kind gift to a colleague. After all, he had been in her position once- unable to afford all the luxuries he saw others indulging in. It didn’t have to have a deeper meaning than simple empathy.

But he knew he was lying to himself. On some level, he wanted to impress the beautiful woman who had been spending her evenings with him. He knew his desire for her companionship was improper- she couldn’t have been older than her late twenties. However, knowing something illicit rarely did anything to calm one’s heart.

Or other body parts.

So he walked circles in his room, trying to make the decision before she came by later for their standing appointment. Would she appreciate the gift as a simple, thoughtful gesture? Would she read into his implicit intentions? Would she be repulsed by them, or would she-

“Hi Emmrich!” Rook cheerily greeted him as the door opened without warning, Manfred holding it open for her. “I ran into Manfred on the way over. What’s that?” She questioned as she walked to meet him in the center of the room. Emmrich cursed his anxiety, the decision having been taken out of his hands. 

“I was thinking of our conversation yesterday, and I thought you might appreciate this.” Emmrich explained, trying to mimic Rook’s matter-of-fact manner of speaking to prevent any potential miscommunication. He handed the box to her, and she took it curiously, examining the fine velvet exterior. He held his breath as she slowly opened it, and her smile fell. 

“Emmrich, this…” she whispered, shock and confusion intermingling on her face. She stared at it silently for what felt like an eternity, her face frozen in the inscrutable expression. The anxiety that had been nipping at his heels before her entrance overwhelmed him, tearing open his chest with its vicious claws. 

“Rook…” he began, unsure how to correct his error. What had he done? He had let his romantic imagination get away from him, a relic from a time long past. And now he risked not only a professional relationship, but a friendship he had come to cherish. 

“Why are you so kind to me?” She interrupted him before he could further embarrass himself. She turned her gaze to him, tears starting to well in her eyes. The anxiety that had been mauling him since the exchange started disappeared, replaced by a yawning void of sorrow. She didn’t understand why she would be given a gift like this. This woman, a shining beacon of joy who fought against the tide of Blight that threatened to swallow the world, couldn’t comprehend why someone cared for her.

“It’s nothing less than what you deserve.” he assured her, tucking a strand of red hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear. She wiped away the tears that had begun to spill from her eyes, blinking away any more that threatened to appear. Lifting the bracelet from its resting place, she delicately placed it on her wrist, taking a deep breath and studying it for a few moments once it was where it belonged. Raising her gaze back up to him, her typical smile had reappeared, any vulnerability she had let escape tightly leashed back. “Are you ready to start the next book?”

She nodded, clearly relieved to be able to move past her emotional display. Taking her seat, she grabbed the book from his desk, and opened it to the first page. The rest of their evening proceeded like the rest, a constant rhythm of silence and questions, all pertaining to the text, save for one.

“Emmrich?”

“Yes?”

“Is the blue stone to match my eyes?”

[youmakethelight]

Melissa McBride and Angela Kang are both women in an industry and genre dominated by white men. We don't know them personally, but we know that much.

What surprises me about the current discourse surrounding the spin-off is that for many, it seems as though, as long as Daryl and Carol have a potentially romantic canon future ahead of them, everything is forgiveable.

Many are putting a *huge* amount of faith and trust in Melissa that this will be delivered in a way that feels authentic to the original story. For me, this is actually unfair pressure on Melissa, but it also feels like ignoring crucial evidence. First, Melissa has told us twice that she's laying low on her EP role, and this concerns both seasons 2 and 3.

Second, we have seen season 2, and as far as I can tell, her major inputs were her core ideas for Carol and her acting (both fantastic). To me, the showrunner heard this and gave a script that delivered gimmicks (e.g. gas hallucination) and lacked emotional depth. No time or attention were spent on getting the viewer to understand why Carol is thinking about Sophia now, Daryl's connection to the trauma is completely absent, and we learn almost nothing new about Carol's memories or feelings about Sophia or what she's been going through these last 12 years.

We had more in the flagship - when she said that the "thing" that came out of the barn wasn't her little girl, when she told Lizzie that she thinks about Sophia every day, that she didn't survive because she didn't have a mean bone in her body. Those pieces of dialogue were crumbs in the flagship, but when we have the opportunity to fully delve into it in her spin-off, we learnt that she can't remember Sophia's face anymore and that time took away the Sophia she remembers before the barn. Those lines are both good, but they aren't enough, and they were gone in a flash. A compelling narrative delivery of Carol seeming to "process" the grief is also not given. She gets a hug from Didi, a hug from Daryl, and a hallucination holding her hand and walking away from her. None of those are bad things, but they aren't enough. Melissa acted her heart out, and I ate it up, but the script let her, and Carol, down.

Melissa isn't a writer. The skills she's paid for are acting and executive producing. She can't and shouldn't be expected to make up for David Zabel's shortcomings. There are a number of things Zabel could have done differently, like hiring an expert on trauma and grief (maybe he did, but he doesn't seem to have listened to them, if so). The lines he gives are incredibly shallow. It isn't Melissa's job - and she may not feel it's her place - to make those sorts of suggestions. And regardless, he doesn't have to listen. And he can edit out whatever he likes in post-production, as he did in season 2.

Melissa talked a lot about how much it means to her for Carol to be able to explore her survivor's guilt. And Zabel gave her and Daryl about 3 lines where they talked about "why them" and luck vs bad luck. To me, it feels like lip service to Melissa's ideas. Zabel clearly lacks the knowledge of the source material or the care and attention-to-detail that are needed. Melissa can't fix that, but so many fans are willing to put faith in this showrunner because they somehow think that Melissa can fix him...

Meanwhile, Angela Kang is given no grace. I'm seeing assumptions about her and her work. There is so much we don't know about the behind-the-scenes, who is responsible for what, and what she internally thought and wanted. And yet, there's enough evidence to assume the worst of her? She might have been the showrunner, but she's still answerable to a studio and a chief content officer, and she's still a part of a team whose ideas she's responsible for respecting if she wants her team to respect her. And all this while she's a WOC in a white male dominated space. She simply does not have the same privileges as a white male showrunner. She just doesn't. She at least deserves some grace and not to be assumed the worst of.

I'm not going to dissect this further right now. I'm just going to leave it here. It seems, to me, like it's become normal and acceptable to assume the worst of Angela Kang, despite the fact that she was a WOC showrunner surrounded by powerful white men. And now, it has become normal and acceptable to assume that Melissa McBride, having been given only a fraction of power, is capable of fixing the shortcomings of her white male showrunner.

Both women deserve grace and better allies in their workplace.

"Being an ally to someone is unconditional. It's speaking up when it's easier to stay silent, standing up for someone when you don't have company, and continuing to show up and use your voice even when you're told, "you're causing trouble." But that is how things change. Because if we won't speak up, who will?" - @indigoraysoflight

[gyokujyn]

WIP Game ♡

rules: you will be given a word. share one sentence / excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Tagged by @amaraangelicus

My word was COMFY and, ironically, none of these snippets are terribly comfortable.

Under this cut, you are going to find slurs, gore, violence, sexualised violence, implied sexual assault, antisemitism (there are Nazis), and implied torture. I write difficult, dark subject matter, particularly exploring self-hatred and grief. Please take care of yourself and proceed with caution.

C - As-yet unnamed Bucky-centric Wakanda recovery fic

“Cause I didn't expect to be able to dream,” he said finally.

“In the stasis tube?” Shuri clarified and he nodded, shrugged, shrank in on himself.

“With HYDRA, I felt like I was dreaming all the time.  Like a waking nightmare.  I couldn't string my memories together in a coherent line.  People or places would come to me, but I couldn't remember why they were important or how they were connected.  The only thing that mattered was right now, the only thing I could keep a grip on was what was right in front of me.  Then, they'd shove me back in the ice and there was nothing.  I would close my eyes and when I opened them, the nightmare was back, like no time had passed at all, and they'd burn out whatever I could put together and start over.  But, I never really…. I don't really remember sleeping under HYDRA.  Just mission after mission, and in-between them, cryo like the blink of an eye.  I think they knew that sleep healed me because there were times I was kept out so long, my body'd start shutting down.  The drugs wouldn't keep me up forever; even super soldiers breakdown at some point.  And, when I slept, I remembered.  So, instead they would shove me into cryo as soon as they could and shut me down like flipping a light switch.”

“Their cryogenic process was barbaric, just freezing you like meat.  Our stasis tubes put your cells in a state of regenerative hibernation, but, even so, the only times I have heard of patients dreaming is those who have taken of the heart shaped herb." She hopped down off the bed and paced for a moment, the way he'd learned meant she was working out a problem. She tipped her head side to side, eyes on the ceiling, then looked back to him, "Perhaps, some part of your enhancement is close enough to my brother's that you also visited your ancestors."  A sudden seriousness, so unlike the princess, overtook her and she narrowed her eyes at him. "What was it like?”

He thought back to twilight in Brooklyn, feet dangling from a fire escape, a face in every window of the alley, and more stars overhead than he'd ever seen before coming to Wakanda.  The scent of his mother's perfume is already fading in his sense memory when he replies, “It felt real.”

O - As-yet unnamed Bucky!Cap WinterBaron fic set in WW2

On the air is the thick smell of smoke.  Bucky’s in the dancehall in Brooklyn with the ugly, fake Roman arches around the stage, but he’s in the back by the bar.  And he’s draped over a barstool next to Sandra Singer with her honey brown eyes and fingernails purple like a bruise.  She’s smoking the Marlboros he started buying to pick up dames and he’s digging his fingers to the knuckle into her curled hair while he licks the taste out of her mouth.  They’re hot and heavy in the alley by the butcher’s and the smoker must be working overtime because it’s cloying and her laughter sounds like shouting as he buries himself in the nape of her neck, hot and suffocating as she presses him against the brick.  He licks a line along her throat and coughs out dirt and ash as he pushes himself up out of the wreckage.

On the air is the thick smell of smoke.  Bucky’s in the rubble of the factory in Kreichsberg and he’s buried under crumbled concrete at the edge of the building when he comes to.  He’s propped up on his arms, both dirt stained and black with soot.  His mouth tastes like the inside of an ashtray, every shallow breath like embers, but he can’t worry about the taste right now because he can barely breathe. He’s gasping like a fish on the rocks at Coney Island in the summer, but there’s something in his throat and gasping gives way to wretching and suddenly he’s coughing up the rest of the ashes out of his lungs, along with what appears to be most of the lining of his throat and lungs.  He can still hear the shouting nearby, but it’s not close enough to worry about, yet, not when he finds himself staring at parts of him he’s sure should remain inside and it’s another long moment before he can wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and gather himself enough to stand.  Dragging his feet up towards his chest, he pushes himself up miserably, skin feeling sharp and bright beneath the layer of grime he’d accumulated.  The first landmark he spots is at the top of the last wall standing.  It’s that useless door he’d been inching his way towards when everything went to hell and he realized at that moment that he’s a good 200-feet from where he had expected to die on the opposite end of the factory.  That backdraft was a bitch.

M - As-yet unnamed Bucky/Peggy fic where they hatefuck in their grief over losing Steve at Kreichsberg THIS BIT IS EXPLICITLY LEADING UP TO A RAPE SCENE AND SHOULD BE READ WITH CAUTION

Mangled clicking sounds cut through the quiet of the room as she struggles to choke out his name.  She’s shredding the skin of his hand with her nails, tears falling down her cheeks and stinging in the wounds, but he just shakes her a bit by the throat, like a wolf worrying its prey.

As suddenly as it had begun, the fight leaves him and his grip on her loosens.  She gasps, gulping in air desperately, coughing and gagging as he falls to his knees at her feet.  He's shaking, hands and arms wrapped around her calves.  She stares down at him in horror, panting, scared to move and trigger another attack.

“Did you fuck him in the end?”

She blinks slowly, her voice wrecked when she finally croaks, “what?”

Bucky looks up at her, eyes red-rimmed and glassy, “You heard me.  Did you fuck him?” He repeats, moving his hands up her legs, wrapping the hem of her skirt in his fist and pushing it up her thigh, “Will I taste him on you?”

F - As-yet unnamed Stucky/Steggy law enforcement AU with felon!Bucky, LEO!Steve, DA!Peggy

For a moment, Bucky was taken off guard, his shock written clearly across his features in the face of Steve’s aggression and it should have settled something in Steve, but it only stoked it.  Bucky let his face melt into a smirk, his voice pitched low, just for Steve.  “Blue is my color.”

“Yeah,” Steve growled, hissing right in Bucky’s face, teeth bared.  “Really brings out the convicted felon in your eyes.”

But, Bucky saw the opportunity for what it was and he wasn’t letting it go.  He leaned forward into Steve’s space, running his hands up Steve’s thighs slowly, “Oh, Steve, c’mon, do you even try not to think of me when you’re fucking her?  Or, do you put her on her belly with her ass up and shove her face into the pillow, huh?  So you don’t have to look at her or hear that whiny fucking voice when you’re–”  Steve’s knuckles connect with a dull thud, barely audible over the clattering of Bucky’s chair toppling over.  The first time shuts him up, the second puts him on the floor along with a spray of fresh blood from his broken nose.  Steve’s snarling and panting, raised fist poised to go again, but he contains it.  He breathes through it.

Y - As-yet unnamed (is this sounding familiar yet?) Bucky-centric fic, this scene is during his first capture by Hydra, when he is first selected for Zola's program.

“You are a Jew?” the interrogator asks him.  It’s a simple question and Bucky doesn’t want to respond.  His jaw trembles open and shut as the fresh tears track down his muddied cheeks.

“Barnes,” he starts, finally, “James Buchanan.  Sergeant–” and the soldier in front of him just nods slowly.

“You are a Jew.”  It’s no longer a question and the soldier begins barking orders to the guards who have stopped stringing him up.

“Wait,” Bucky jumps in as they unbind his hands, but it’s all happening so quickly, now.  They drop him unceremoniously on the floor.  His pants are still around his thighs and he fumbles to pull them back up, his stomach lurching, “No, wait, look at my tags.”  They’re not even listening to him, and he knows this, but he can’t stop the words bubbling out of him as his numb fingers clumsily wrestle with the buttons of his trousers, “My tags say I’m Catholic!”  The guards ignore him, hauling him up by his armpits and dragging him towards the door.  His voice rises frantically as he pulls back against them, pulling out his dog tags as evidence, “Look at my tags!  Look!”

The interrogator is calm as he grabs him by the face, his long fingers digging into Bucky’s jaw as his hand covers his mouth like a mask, “I understand, Sergeant.  Barnes, James Buchanan.  You are not only a Jew, but also a coward,” his gut wrenches again with the truth of it.  At least he’d stopped crying. “Nevertheless, you may prove useful to us, yet.”

no pressure tags: @katie-delaney and @blackwood4stucky

Katie, your word is LUSTY

Aspen, your word is TWIST

If anybody else wants to join in, try the word STORY

[bambi-kinos]

Re: John being demi - don’t you think it’s possible he had sex because that’s what was expected of him? His age, lifestyle, etc. Especially because of his self-destructive tendencies and not always acting on how he truly feels. Or acting in a way that doesn’t express how he truly feels - i.e. Barcelona. He could have easily slept with Yoko early on, with her throwing herself at him but it wasn’t until correspondence and a deeper connection did he engage sexually. Not to mention him not wanting to have sex with men later in life because he couldn’t find one he connected with in that way. To me even the lyric “My love will turn you on” - is revealing.

If you want to interpret John Lennon as demisexual then you certainly can and I can't and won't stop you. But since you're asking me directly my answer is just a flat "no." John was sexually attracted to women so he slept with them. He was conventional that way. He was also hooking up with Yoko soon after Indica, he did not wait until the night he took LSD with her and recorded the sex tape.

You need to remember the cultural climate John existed in. It was "expected" of John to get married to a woman, settle down with her, have children, hold a steady uninspiring job, and then die at 70 with a gold pocket watch in his waistcoat without ever standing out from the crowd or doing anything that would express his individuality and personal needs. These were the stultifying expectations John grew up under and he hated it.

The Beatles kept their orgies secret because it would have destroyed them as a band if it got out that they were nailing groupies, this is the exact OPPOSITE of it being "expected" of them to have sex with lots of women.

The performative aspect was the groupies expectation of John to act like Beatle John while he was thrusting. That doesn't mean John disliked it or was carrying out an act he found distasteful for the sake of expectations. And remember: John kept posters of Bridget Bardot and Elvis Presley in his bedroom at Mendips because he was jerkin' it to their images. He only had a parasocial fanboy relationship with them but he was deeply sexually attracted to both. This is the opposite of demisexuality which requires a personal connection of some kind.

I talked about this in the McLennon server this afternoon so I'll just repost what I said in there:

Leggy「IT'S A GUNDAM 」 — Today at 5:20 PM john was just so laden with PTSD and agoraphobia

like Shotton talks about how John started turtling up once he got Kenwood, the hibernation years were a long time coming. but he was so deeply separated from other people even as a child and that just got worse and worse over time.

like sex was a way for John to connect with human beings and I wonder if it was the only way he could. that's not to say he couldn't fall in love if he met people but he had to keep his connections shallow as a matter of survival, he wasn't able to form those relationships easily and when he did connect to others it was because they pursued him.

Cynthia was the aggressor in her relationship with John, he liked her but he didn't pay attention to her until she dyed her hair blonde to catch his eye. Paul was super down bad. Yoko stalked him.

Otherwise even as a teenager John's relationships were strictly about sex, not romantic love, and he wasn't interested in romantic love until Paul and art school came into his life.

***

This is the exact opposite of demisexuality. John could form personal relationships and he could fall in love with people but when he did, he seemed to back away from them sexually. If we count Paul as one of John's lovers (and I do) then we see this happen to where John broke it off with Paul to pursue someone else physically (in this case Yoko.) John liked using sex as a way to connect with others but the moment genuine feelings got involved he got skittish. Note that he initially was planning to buy a house with May Pang but then he went back to Yoko when the Montauk plans began solidifying. John was certainly attracted to May Pang and he certainly had a personal connection with her but when that started getting a little too real and too deep, then he left her and would only hook up with her occasionally in controlled environments where he could ghost her easily afterwards.

The same thing happened with Yoko: after Sean was born, she and John stopped having sex and she sent him to the massage parlors to avoid dealing with him.

And don't forget how John's relationship with May Pang started: Yoko hired May Pang to be John's mistress. May was paid by Yoko to have sex with John and to keep him within Yoko's reach while they were in Los Angeles, what with Yoko's daily phone calls. May did fall in love with John but John knew that May was a business asset controlled by his wife and that she was being paid to never leave him. This was the foundation of their affection for each other. When May and John went back to New York and started looking for houses in Montauk, John opted to go back to Yoko for her smoking cure and came back ready to leave May Pang, aka the relationship with May Pang was becoming too real and too deeply rooted in actual Love (with that capital L) that meant May would no longer be forced to stay with John due to receiving a salary from Yoko Ono.

What seems to be more of a pattern in his life is that he was very wary of forming personal connections with others, when they did form it was because the second person pursued him vigorously, and then he had a saddening tendency to leave once his love with that second person began to develop into a deep, long lasting adult relationship. If anything, John seemed to use sex as a way to keep himself hidden and to stop forming connections with others because the moment he had sex with someone he could safely label them "disposable" which is exactly what he did with Paul and May despite his intense connections with both of them and the fact that he was sexually intimate with both of them.

John seemed to fear love and the responsibilities and ecstasies that it brings. This is not demisexuality as I understand it and I simply cannot agree with the assertion that John was demisexual.

[salmonight]

Free Title Ideas Pt. 1

I am always looking for new title ideas trying to find the perfect match for my meager amount of fics actually published ( I got a ton of wips mind you) so I have this little file full with title ideas I got from here and there and I thought I share them! Feel free to use them and all! I only actually used a few of them myself so theyre up for the take! Enjoy!

( I suck at categorizing mind u so take it however u want)

Low Mood:

Paint Splattered Teardrops

A Mournful Radio Song

The Quite Ivories

20 Minute Too Long… Too Late-

No Third Round Up

My Heart's An Artifice, A Decoy Soul

If These Walls Could Talk

Like Drying Paint on the Walls

Withering Memories

Bury Our Secrets Shallow

Isn't It Tragic How Far You Came?

The Best of the Worsts

Your Wings Are Failing, Icarus

Let Your Wings Carry You Away From Here

Cry For Reflection

The Scream of Winter

Much Madness in Divinest Sense

Family Doesn't End in Blood

In This Castle Of Glass

All the Same (Once a Liar, Always a Liar)

Crack:

Law is Where You Buy It

Miles from Normal

Stop Screaming - It's Me

Between Two Liars…

Lost My Soul and All I Got Was this T-Shirt

Dude, Where's My Soul?

When Life Hands You Demons Make Demonade

Demon-Blend Straigh From Hell

Nothing to See Here Officer, Just a Bunch of Blobs

Hey Kid, Wanna Buy a Blob Ghost?

Gingers Have No Souls

This Little Blob of Mine

Feral Goose Hunting: A Beginner's Guide (Just Don't)

10 Ways to Connect with Your Feral Goose by Robin

A Guide on Ruining Your Life

It IS and Idea (Just NOT the Brightest)

I Am totally NOT the One to Blame for THIS

Dead Men Won't Shut Up

Encryptid

Cryptid Crash Course

Shakespeare Has Nothing on Me!

[insert name]'s Observation Diary of the Weirdest Boss(es)

The Devil’s Eyes and His Voice of Reason

Romance:

Makeshift Chemistry

Stargazing, Coffee and the Mystery of You..

Play Love Like Killers (We All Fall)

Good Vibes:

Sunshine Riptide

Come on Baby, the Laugh Is on Me

Fair With Some Rain

Star Light, Star Bright, First Arrow I See Tonight

Bitter (?):

Ah, Lay Waste to it, then Laugh at it

Believe, We Were Never Gonna Lose Control

Die, but too Blind to See

Too Latte for Smiling (yes thats a pun there no miss typing)

And as the Scribe Said, Mark Me Up With Words

Vodka Shots in the Dark

What Lingers, What Waits

Dr.Sunshine is Dead

Action:

Swing 'em Sword, Comin' in Swarms

Droppin' Guns all on the Floor 'till it look like River Styx

Black on Black at Night

Rifles, and they're Useless in this House

Dropp the Dagger

Watch Us BURN

Death:

Leave Your Body and Soul at the Door

Dead Man's Party

'Till the Reaper Call

'cause the Hangman's Waiting

A Night in the Ice Box

Stars Fall Underground

Can't Reach the Stars from the Underworld

Dance on Your Grave in All Whites

I Will See You Down Below

A Toast to the Passing Lights

I am a Ghost, but Only If You Remember

A Forray into Thanatology

Do You Want to Build a Snow-ghost?

In the In Between

Deceased When Last Seen

They Only Murdered Him Once

Colder Than These Bones

A Ghostly Collection of Stories once Untold

Dearly Departed

Hopeful:

City of Last Hopes

Bright Foggy Skies

This Bird Has Flown

A Bard's Tale, so Bittersweet

In the Winter, the Van Keeps Rolling

Oh Raven (Sing Me a Happy Song)

A Light to Call Home

Lost and Found

Towards the Sun

Khmm I have quite a few ghost/death and Dc related ones cuz I mostly wrote DC and DP fics so I looked for tittles for those. Those who know, know those who don't can ignore them.

Pt 2 |