#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

[icewindandboringhorror]

*screenshots the highlights of my youtube to mp3 downloads folder as if it were some fancy aesthetic spotify wrapped image or whatever* 

[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.

[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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[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.

[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.

[vbs-kaitos-big-naturals]

i think the main thing i hate about 'suicide units' in school health classes is how bad the advice is. like wtf??? no dont tell a persons parents theyre suicidal without the persons permission thats fucked up

instead of doing what school tells you, please follow these rules:

dont tell authority figures about someone's suicidal thoughts/sh unless you know theyre in active danger or they gave you permission. its a breach of privacy and trust, and it could put them in a bad spot if their parents are abusive.

please dont treat a suicidal person with pity/babying. its just plain demeaning. unless youre sure theyre okay with something else, treat them normally and just check in on them more.

and if YOURE suicidal, they dont even teach you how to deal with it or cope, they just give you 988/other hotline and send you on your way. its superficial care.

here are some ACTUAL tips if youre suicidal/struggling in anyway with mental illness:

if you cant do things the way youre supposed to, then cut corners. some is better than nothing.

the little things can make a difference. seeing your keychain always makes you feel a little better, so take that keychain everywhere. it wont fix everything, but a little bit of joy can go a long way.

find other people who are struggling like you. online spaces are a good start! however, if you feel like the environment is just making you feel negative and more depressed, you should leave to prevent further harm.

FIND THINGS YOU ENJOY. please. whether it be rhythm games, reading, drawing, hell, doing math equations, things that youre passionate about can be like a rock to support yourself when it gets bad. they make you feel better, they give you a purpose (though you dont need one to be worthy of life, remember that) and they give you something to connect to others with.

try to get some sunlight. vitamin D deficiency is awful and can cause serious depression, so letting the sun do its job can make you feel a little better. bonus points for either going outside or opening a window to get fresh air!

as soon as you can comfortably and safely do so, please try to go to a therapist to help you figure out how to cope with your symptoms. theyll still be there, but they can live alongside you instead of preventing you from living.

a lot of this stuff can be good for executive dysfunction too! if you need depression meals, a basic rule of thumb is to try and get all the food groups. if you only have instant noodles and some eggs, then make the instant noodles as cook the eggs in the broth. if you only have rice, peanuts, and some hot sauce, put those together. etc etc. there are tons of great resources out there too, ill probably reblog later with some.

most of all, of you seriously think youre at your wits end and might kill yourself after another issue, or maybe your parents yelled at you, or maybe you got laid off, whatever it is, call a hotline. things can be fixed, but if theyre fixed when youre gone, you wont be around to see how happy you could be :(

okay thats all. i hope i gave a few people better health education than school did. try to drink some water and maybe have a snack if you havent, and remember, i love you!!

(ps im not a licensed professional nor am i an expert, ive just been pretty depressed and suicidal for a long time, so this is speaking from mine and other's experience. if anyone else has something to say on it, i encourage sharing!! lets use our collective knowledge to defeat the pta mandated shallow health class)

[blehrbie-blog]

Neteyam x Reader story

Sooo, I haven't written anything in genuine years. But after watching Avatar:TWOW I've become hyperfixated and have been scrolling and refreshing the Neteyam x Reader tag basically since the movie came out. As a consequence I've had this idea in the back of my mind that I thought was very sweet and cute (something we all need after that movie) so I decided to sit down and give it a go and see what comes out of my brain. So here it is. I haven't properly edited it and it's pretty much a 1000 words of word vomit and a bunch of time skips but it made me happy to write so I'm sharing it.

Oh, BTW SPOILERS!! but also I don't stick to the event's of the movie so idk I'm just putting it out there in case someone hasn't watched the trailer.

So the idea is our girl meets Neteyam informally for the first time when they're 9. She gets cornered in the jungle by a Palulukan and Neteyam helps her run away from it. She had always known who he is being the firstborn son of the Toruk Makto. She remembers her mom telling her about the big ceremony the Tribe had when he was first born. Everyone knew him.

- You shouldn't go into Palulukan territory without being careful - he says, looking a bit unsure about her now that there's no imminent danger.

- I didn't know I was in its territory

 - Don't wander off too far on your own then.

___________________________

After this meeting, you get closer and become friends, which means as a consequence you occasionally hang out with the rest of Neteyam's family. However, as he gets older and his Dad starts preparing him to be a warrior and later on Lo'ak as well you don't have as much time to spend as you once did laughing and roaming around in the jungle exploring thick forests and shallow pools of water. It's not like you have nothing to do with your life, you do! You've been thinking of taking up lessons from the Tsahik, to see how you can use the spirit of Eywa and nature to help people who are hurting. It just so happens that the Tsahik is Neteyam's grandmother so you sometimes end up seeing him come back from a mission with his father and you share sweet smiles from across the camp.

When the tribe moves to the floating rocks, you are required by the Tsahik to help those injured from the journey and the ones getting used to the new terrain. So you're even more often in the same circles. As you're working one day about to go over to help Ninat with her sprained ankle, someone taps you on the shoulder

-You seem busy with work. - says Neteyam smiling sweetly at you

-Oh! Yes, I was just about to start. How's your training going?

You hadn't spoken in a while, just a quick wave or nod when crossing paths throughout the day. You hadn't noticed but he towers over you by a couple inches now. He nods towards his dad who's speaking with Neytiri at the edge of their tent.

-You know, just the usual responsibilities of carrying on the legacy. - His eyes gaze into you softly, like he's memorizing your face after not seeing it for long. He shakes it off and looks down - Have you got many tasks today?

-Not too much actually, just need to check up on Ninat and prepare some medicinal salves.

- I want to see you later – He looks back up into your eyes and smiles – Maybe we can go on one of our expeditions like before.

You chuckle – Sure, I'd love that.

With a final nod of approval, he stalks away to his parent's side.

When you meet later towards sunset he's waiting patiently with his Ikran by the vines connecting the Hallelujah Mountains to the Jungle below.

-We won't go too far out into the jungle so we have time to come back before sunrise. - He says as he connects his Queue with the Ikran and gazes at you expectantly – Hop on.

Can I trust that I'll come back alive from this flight? - you raise a skeptical eyebrow. He only went through his Iknimaya ritual not too long ago.

He reaches out a hand to help you up onto the animal – I don't think Eywa would forgive me if I wasted you on a simple flight.

You smile warmly into his shoulder as you hold tight onto him feeling the powerful animal shift under you as you fly out.

Roughly 10 years later

____________________________

When he comes back from the Mitkayina islands. He's taller and broader and his hair is much longer pulled into a loose braid around his Queue. You have a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you first see him. He's magnificent and commanding in his presence. The tribe has gathered all around to accept him and Jake back with a warm welcome. And even though you're hidden by your fellow Na'vi, his eyes immediately find you in the crowd and issue an eager and warm smile on his face.

As soon as he has settled the greetings with the current Olo'eyktan and the Tsahik, he finds you – walking to your sleeping pod. You would have gone to say hello and see him up close but, honestly, you were a bit intimidated. What you now knew was a childhood infatuation with him all those years ago still couldn't handle seeing him all of a sudden in all his... perfect glory. You were a little intimidated. But that doesn't stop him from reaching out for you. You see him jog over with a grin. He grabs you by the shoulders about to pull you into a hug but stops himself at the last moment. His eyes roam you over from head to toe and he looks up with glistening eyes -You've grown! - His tone sounds almost unbelieving

-That tends to happen as time passes, yes – you chuckle, hands coming up to hold onto his arms. His strong arms.

-I'm not too sure what I expected you to look like but you're... way beyond any expectation – He sounds so awe-struck as he's still taking you in, that you start to feel a little embarrassed.

-I can say the exact same thing – You say as you meet his gaze again. As you do his face softens and he brings you into his arms finally.

-I missed you, my friend.

Your hand caresses his hair gently – I missed you too.

You break apart and you decide to go for some late food with him abandoning your plans of sleep.

_______________________

Months later, when they have their first kiss. It's a slow thing. He will say something dry-humoured in his soft voice and she'll forget to laugh too busy staring at him, realizing how in love she is. And has been all these years. And when he notices that she hasn't replied he'll look at her and know immediately. That she's realized, at last. And he'll come to hold her like she's the most precious thing in his world. He'll thread his fingers through her hair bringing her face close to his. Forehead pressed to hers, patiently waiting for her to join him in the reality he has been living. Where they have loved each other for a while, longed and missed unbelievably because of it, and are finally able to bask in it. The warm smiles and looks, the casual closeness that not being apart allows. The things he has been dreaming of. He looks at her lips and back at her eyes, pulling back slightly to give her some space. Maybe she's not entirely understanding his feelings, maybe she's too caught up in her own to recognize his signs, he thinks, ready to give her all the time- When she grabs his neck and drags him back to her. - Neteyam... – her eyes are glossy like she's about to cry. So he caresses her cheeks gently and finally presses their lips sweetly together. And he can not compare it to any other feeling he has ever experienced. It's not like loving her, that's easy and at the same time overwhelming. It has brought him to the point that he is ready to lay down his life and all of his family's expectations to travel back to the tribe just to see her. To be reunited. But this feeling, this kiss is like knowing, that he won't be alone in his love and he can give her his all, his soul. They stay there, lost in the sweetness of being together like never before until the sun has long set and the moon has long risen.

_______________________

That is it! I do realise I keep skipping between tenses, I apologise if anyone finds it annoying and hope you enjoyed!

Edit: I thought it might be useful to put a link to part 2 down here so: Next

[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

[autistichalsin]

"What is it like to be so uncaring? I wish I could spend a day being as unempathetic as them. (Unspoken: What's the point of having empathy anymore?")

This is a sentiment that I've seen so many others express, and myself have kinda had to work through too, in the past 24 hours.

And it's a damn good question, isn't it? The people who care for no one but themselves- and worse, who actively want to hurt others not like them- won. They got everything they wanted. Meanwhile, good, kind people lost, and are now being mocked. "Triggered, liberals?"

So what's the point, then? Why should we care anymore?

It's one of those questions where you really have to be your own guide with that. We live in a world that punishes kindness and tries its best to beat it out of people, and sometimes it's tiring to do so.

But I answered that question myself and maybe my answer will help some of you.

In a world like ours, kindness is an act of defiance. Becoming cruel/callous/selfish feeds in to the reality they peddled to steal American democracy for good. By being kind, you remind them that not everyone is like them. And believe me, under their taunting, under their cries of "own the libs", this unsettles them. Kindness is an act of resistance. Love is an act of resistance. You are telling them that they will never change who you fundamentally are, they won't take away the things that make you better than them. And there is nothing evil people hate more than reminders that not everyone is evil!!! Do you remember that scene from The Dark Knight where the Joker had a group of prisoners and ordinary citizens on two ferries with bombs to blow up the other's ship, expecting them to hit the button- but no one did, because they wouldn't take the others' lives? And how utterly baffled he was? Your continued compassion enrages fascists.

You are gaining so much more from remaining kind and empathetic than you can understand. Yes, the ones who lack it won and will get to abuse people, but they lack human connection, and most of theirs are shallow. Alpha male types don't enjoy close friendships; Matt Walsh himself said he never had a friend say he loved him, Tucker Carlson's mom hated him so much that she left him $1 in her will, and Donald Trump's wives only ever married him for his power and status. The few connections they have lack depth and care and genuineness. Sure, they have families, sometimes, who love/care for them. But it is a very different kind of love because it is conditional. That's the only kind of love they know. "Be like me, espouse my values, and then I will love you." They disown their queer children, they fear their wives being independent or their husbands being 'soft.' The instant they become "wrong" in some way, they'll be discarded. You, in seeking relationships with people who genuinely love you for you- and offering that in turn- are never going to know that terror.

You deserve to be loved. You deserve to get to continue to feel the full range of human emotion, which does and should include compassion and empathy and love. You don't deserve to have to give that up just to survive this dystopian hellscape. You deserve better and if this country has failed too much to give you better, you should still at least hold on to what scraps of better you can find.

Things are about to get worse in nearly every aspect; financially, socially, geopolitically, I could go on. Staying your authentic self- loving and compassionate- is one of the only ways you are going to be able to survive what's coming, because you'll need support, and so will those around you.

Not going to numb to what's happening is the literal only way we can fix this. And I'm going to be blunt here, no fix is coming in our lifetimes. We're going to try and salvage something in the future we aren't ever going to see here. But that makes retaining your fundamental kindness even more important, because when there's nothing in it for you, the only way to keep going is to retain a love of humanity, no matter what flaws it has, because otherwise you'll get discouraged and give up. We won't get out of this, even in a few generations, without radical acts of altruism for people who are going to live here after us. They deserve your help even if they're not here yet. They NEED you.

Don't let this change who you are. Who you are is good. Who you are is perfect. You're a normal person in an utterly insane world, and this insane world won't become sane again without people like you.

[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

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Genius is nothing other than the ability to retrieve childhood at will.

Charles Baudelaire

Is this all there is to art? A kind of solipsism? An inability to get past the egoism of infancy?

In Fellini’s masterpiece 8+1/2 the answer seems to lie with unraveling the mysterious phrase ‘Asa Miso Nasa’. Up front I will admit the film is not easy to follow as it doesn't really have a great plot and it does feel like episodic that gives it a disjointed look. But that doesn't mean there are no grand narratives underpinning it because there is.

The film, released in 1963, is about a movie director named Guido. His latest project has stalled before filming has even begun. Played by the incomparable Marcello Mastroianni, Guido is suffering from anxiety and creative block. It’s no wonder. He has sown chaos in his love life, and his creative indecision is producing near-mutinous levels of angst among actors, agents and crew. But all of this is mere surface tumult. Guido is haunted by something deeper. Something to do with . . . what? His parents, his childhood, the Catholic church? Feelings of shame and bliss? Death? All he has to answer his question is the phrase 'Asa Miso Nasa' to unlock answers but something he doesn't quite get.

In many ways ‘Asa Miso Nasa’ is a red herring, a sort of wild goose chase to nowhere. Like "Rosebud" in Orson Welles' Citizen Kane, or the madeleine in Marcel Proust's In Search of Lost Time, "Asa Nisi Masa" is a Hitchcockian ‘MacGuffin’ - a convenient object upon which the plot turns. In Fellini’s film it’s used as a gateway to crucial memories of the central character - even though it is itself peripheral to the central story.

Fellini’s answer is, I think, with his apprehension that the urge to make art is connected to a time in our lives when we were lifted and carried about, lowered into baths, tucked into bed; when we first used our lips to suck and to kiss; when we flapped our arms and kicked our legs; or when we danced without unrestrained joy. In other words, when we felt ourselves to be unique in our childhood.

Why should that be so? James Fenton, the great poet and critic, provided a plausible answer, even if he was writing about something else.

“Because,” wrote Fenton - and here comes the part that Guido, the anxious, grown-up filmmaker, must reckon with - “there follows the primal erasure, when we forget all those early experiences, and it is rather as if there is some mercy in this, since if we could remember the intensity of such pleasure it might spoil us for anything else. We forget what happened exactly, but we know that there was something, something to do with music and praise and everyone talking, something to do with flying through the air, something to do with dance.”

Something Fellini-esque, you might say.

Art is more than a pathetic desire to revert to childhood bliss. It’s true that the self-centredness of great artists - and by no means just male artists - is bound up with their desire to find again the treasure in the corner of the childhood bedroom, and the only sound is the children’s chant: “Asa Nisi Masa.” But what do all artists want if not to be understood.

But here we run into a problem. For all the attention artists seek, there is a kind of shame for them in being “understood.” Being “explained” is never more than an inch from being “explained away,” rendered redundant, losing the vital quality that makes one unique. Their egos can't handle that. So we can never judge beauty in art if we limit ourselves to just the life and meaning of an artist. If anyone ever says they don't like this art because of this artist was not nice or was abusive or held questionable beliefs then they are either illiterate fools or as shallow as the unfunny Hannah Gadsby is about Picasso.

There is much, much more to art, which, at its best, is always about transcending solipsism and reaching for beauty.

For Roger Scruton, the great philosopher of aesthetics, “Beauty is an ultimate value - something that we pursue for its own sake, and for the pursuit of which no further reason need be given. Beauty should therefore be compared to truth and goodness, one member of a trio of ultimate values which justify our rational inclinations,” Scruton developed a largely metaphysical aspect to understanding standards of art and beauty. For Scruton, the purpose of art is to save the sacred - the beautiful.

For Scruton, beauty is wrapped up in his view of the sacred. The sacred begins with the fundamental nature of man as an end, not merely a means - here childhood memories are a means not an end. Scruton then, is able to apply this concept of ends to beauty. The ability to place meaning on things is what gives man his sacredness and makes him an end unto himself. The sacred gives us a glimpse into eternity, and provides man with the cure to his temporal misery. In a manner almost Platonic, Scruton describes the sacred as pulling man out of the world of things and into the transcendental realm. It is an attempt not so much to find a glimpse of our childhood so much as to find Eden again, even if only in a finite temporal way, and to “prefigure our eternal home.”

Thus, it is this sacred nature of ends, not means, that Scruton puts forth in his understanding of beauty. In this Scruton echoes those philosophers of that past. Some like the Greek philosopher, Plotinus, beauty is seen as an ultimate value, pursued for its own sake, and the way in which the “divine unity makes itself known to the soul.”

Beauty is the glue that holds cultures together. It transcends individual places and ages. Light shining through stained glass in the Notre-Dame Cathedral, the face of Mary in Michelangelo’s La Pietà, a Bach orchestral suite, or a Frederico Fellini film (and none more so than the playful but sublime 8+1/2). Our experiences of these things connect us to the experiences of so many others over the decades and centuries since their creation. The beauty links us with a sense of profoundness and awe.

[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 |

[acourtofthought]

"wicked slashing scar"

"brutal scar"

"brutally scarred face"

"cruel beauty"

You know, SJM made no mention of Elain's beauty in ACOTAR outside of her desire to still look lovely despite poverty.

It wasn't until ACOMAF, once she realized Elucien would be mates, that she noted Elain's looks were a defining feature of hers.

And by then, we had already been made aware that Lucien had some insecurities regarding his scar:

While Elain and Lucien are extremely similar in personality and personal beliefs, the most important reasons for making them mates, I kind of love that SJM took her most scarred character (because a fake eye and scar running down the length of his face, not to mention the scars he has from when Tamlin was forced to whip him, are pretty intense and the first thing someone notices when looking at Lucien) and paired him with someone whose beauty was first described as "soft and lovely" then "devastatingly beautiful" after being made.

Something about that contrast (her soft and lovely beauty with his cruel beauty) gives me the feels.

It's not a contrast that forces them to give up the parts of themselves that matter, for example, Elain being troubled by cruelty but ending up with someone who is extremely violent, but a contrast that shows how appearances are only skin deep.

Personally I really dislike the idea of "the prettiest" Archeron with the "prettiest" batboy because it seems extremely shallow. Like someone expecting that two people must be together because they were rated "most attractive guy and girl" in the yearbook (is that still a thing? It used to be) and that's the vibe I get when Feyre thinks of how handsome Elain and Az would be. The only reasons she could picture them together was because they'd share "peace and quiet" and both possessed certain physical attributes. That is definitely not enough to build a relationship on.

Make no mistake, Lucien is handsome but his is not that of an air brushed perfection and there will always be a stigma that comes along with those who first meet him. Curiosity, shock, maybe a bit of fear.

And it's something I'm sure he's already dealt with many times over, cataloging the very many reactions others have the moment they set eyes on him, their constant stares.

Jesminda knew Lucien before Amarantha forever scarred him and while I think the majority of his closing himself off from emotional connection had to do with loyalty to her, I do think we'll find that he doubts whether anyone else could even want to be with him, knowing that he's basically the only fae around with facial imperfections. Many characters have voiced how attractive he is however once an insecurity takes root, it's difficult to weed out.

Sure Ianthe wanted him but that was for own self serving purposes, a way to get ahead.

So if Elucien were to end up together, it would be powerful for them both.

Everyone is under the impression that Elain is a bit shallow and is only concerned with looking her best, Nesta even remembers her mother saying Elain would marry for "beauty" and love and that she did not dream beyond her "pretty dresses".

So falling for a male who, while truly handsome, has some very major imperfections (which make him all the more perfect to us Lucien stans), would show that Elain cares more about what is inside. Because Lucien is pretty perfect in that department.

And with Lucien's insecurities about his face, imagine what it would feel like to know that the most beautiful female he'd ever seen was the one who chose him regardless of his perceived "imperfections". That she wanted him just as he was.

Not that that would be his reason for wanting her, just as it wasn't Rhys's reason for wanting Feyre. However it would definitely be the cherry on top of it all.

❤️