#family photo but one is an imposter

[thatsdemko]

junipers dad- g.russell

pairings: George Russell x albon!fem!reader

fc: lyssieloooloo (from ig and TikTok)

requested: y - “What about something to do with all the pets the Albion’s have?? I think it would be super cute if George was trying to soft launch the relationship but because he’s such good friends with Alex people just assume that he’s hanging with the Albon family. And then it just culminates into either Albon!reader (or maybe Alex😂) just getting tried of George’s moping that his long planned out soft launch isn’t going to plan so they just decide to hard launch.”

a/n: a little something to lighten to mood xx— ps happy non-red bull podium!!

f1updates

liked by albon_pets, gr63updates, lilyandalexlover, & 6,794 others.

f1updates: it seems like George is hanging out with the Albon’s this weekend after Silverstone! he posted this cute picture of an albon cat ☺️

400 comments

f1lover22: I love that George and Alex hang out!

charleslechair: Alex and George two besties that can’t be separated

alblondo: is that y/n?! that’s so cute that George is friends with all of his sisters

princessgeorge: I’m also p sure that’s y/n’s cat juniper!

—

he sits cross legged in the chair, juniper sound asleep in his lap while he scrolls through Instagram for inspiration of his next launch. the last one was an ultimate fail considering half of formula one fans believed he was just hanging out with Alex. didn’t they know juniper was your cat?

“what’s got you so consumed online?” you peer over his shoulder, he’s searched high and low on the instagram tag ‘#softlaunch’ and it makes you giggle that he’s warped into introducing you properly to his instagram.

“why don’t you just post a picture of me and juniper? that way it looks more like you’re hanging out with me than with Alex.” you take the sleeping cat out of his lap, an alarmed grunt comes from her lips as you hold her in your arms for a picture.

“that outta do it right? Alex is nowhere to be seen.”

—

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, lilymhe, y/nalbon, & 77,931 others.

georgerussell63: spent some well needed time off

509 comments

albon_pets: 🐱❤️

maxverclerc: omg did George spend the weekend with the Albons?!

lewrussell: obsessed over that he and the albon siblings are friends

mercedesgeorge: everyday George proves more and more that he and Alex are still besties

—

“I don’t get it, why does everyone think we are friends?”

“well to be fair you did post a picture from junipers birthday party and everyone remembers that day.” you say it in a matter of fact tone that makes him groan as he scrolls through the comments.

albonlover: george was adopted by the albon family and I think that’s so cute

britcedes63: does he regularly hang out with them? I wouldn’t be surprised! he and Alex are really close

he shuts off his phone and watches you play with juniper. the fish on the stick being her worst enemy as she attempts to tackle it down in the air when a brilliant idea comes to his mind.

“why don’t you post me? that way everyone will be suspicious on who you’re dating!”

you roll your eyes playfully at his comment, but when you look over at him he’s handing you your phone to take a picture of him and juniper.

“if this will make you happy, then why not?”

—

f1gossiplover

liked by russbuss63, checorbr, yukisuzuka, & 7,250 others.

f1gossiplover: photo submitted by anonymous! y/n albon seems to have a new man who looks awfully similar to George?? what’s everyone’s thoughts!

300 comments

hamilton44: that’s not George that’s some imposter

gaslycharles: too short to be George

gr63babes: I know George and that’s not him

—

“what do they mean that’s not me?! that’s so clearly me in the picture.” he huffs in annoyance, phone balanced against his water bottle as he eats breakfast. the recent topic of your posts for each other is all he seems to be able to talk about, and you’d had enough. you’d really thought that semi hard launch would’ve been enough to make fans suspicious, but nobody budged.

you curse Alex for being such close friends to George, that way it was ten times harder for you to actually post the relationship like normal couples.

“why does it matter so much to you again?” you sit beside him, reaching over you take his phone and toss it into the empty chair beside you. he’d spent enough time on the device than paying attention to you.

“I just want to do it right. I don’t want to hard launch you and you realize it was too soon.”

you smile at his concerns and reach to grab his hand, “you’re too cute, Georgie, but truthfully I don’t care how you post me, but it seems to be upsetting you very much, so I have an idea.”

—

y/nalbon

liked by albon_pets, georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1, & 6,530 others.

y/nalbon: juniper enjoyed some sun with her dad @ Georgerussell63

300 comments

albon_pets: uncle George has been promoted!

georgerussell63: daddy loves you juni!

roscoelovescoco: playdate soon?

mercedesamgf1: petition for juniper to join us in the paddock?

williamsracing: not on our watch!

lewishamilton: where do I sign up to get me and Roscoe matching sweaters?

alexalbon: don’t hold your breath she’s still making George and me our matching jumpers

tags: (sorry to lazy to tag everyone just gonna tag a few) @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @oconso @motorsp0rt

[yandere-wishes]

The Spider’s Web

Summary: You are a hero, you feel it within your bones. Calamity may strike and villains may rise. But you are still a hero, it's time to start acting like one. 

Continuations of Imposter Syndrome and Perfect Girl. But can be read as a stand-alone

 Warnings: Yandere themes,  violence, angst, just the worst Spanish you've ever heard.  SFW but Miles and the reader are 18+

Author's note: Last part of the Prowler Miles x Hero reader trilogy. Reblogs and comments are appreciated. 

There's a weight in your hand, familiar and awkward, worn yellow plastic stuck to rusted metal. You count the rotations it takes for one bolt to tighten, twist, twist, and repeat. You cradle the metallic gadget with such fragile care, lips tracing silent prayers across the cold alloy. This shall be your salvation once it's complete. Another key to unbinding these appalling shackles.

It's been months since the Prowler took you away. Locked you within his new hideout and threw away the key. He claims he loves you as he leaves sugar-tainted kisses upon your neck. Whispers that he's the only one who can keep you safe as he nibbles the shell of your ear. His claws have become a constant force upon your hips, his presence a burden, invariant and throttling. He's stripped you of your mantle as a hero, reduced you to a limbless, formless creature that merely exists within the dark of his room. Una muñeca, he calls you as he extinguishes the air from your lungs with a life-sucking kiss. 

But you're not a doll, nor a puppet, nor a toy. You're supposed to be a paladin, a saviour, the one who was going to alleviate this city of evil once and for all. But you're not a superhero, not now, not anymore. The thought is enough to make you sick. 

Your own reflection causes you the most pain. The glass paints a stranger with hollow eyes and a decaying soul. Defeated and broken. You've taken to smashing mirrors as a way to exercise your demons. Miles has stated his vexation over this and warned you not to invoke his anger again. It's hard to explain that his anger makes you feel human. The way his eyes narrow and his lips merge into displeasure is the only thing keeping you alive right now. You hate him, but he's practically forgotten that.

Your ears perk up as footsteps tread outside the room. You quickly rush to hide your new gauntlet under the bed, rolling to the deepest corners where the dust bunnies and boogeyman roam. You perch yourself on the bed, stretch to grab a framed family photo from one of the shelves, and focus your eyes. Keep busy, it's the best way to avert his suspicions. 

There's a light creek before Miles steps in. Footsteps heavy as if the ground's going to give way under him. He looks exhausted, practically dead. You wonder what he's been up to all day. You turn your head to face your nemesis, your jailer, your lover.

"Mi Vida" he mutters as he falls back on the bed, he turns wrapping his arms around your waist. "That slimy alien insisted I do some physical training today. It's exhausting. Says I need to be in shape for the big operation". You stiffen, ever since the sinister six had you out of their way, they'd been content with ruling the city with an iron fist. Nothing major, nothing extreme. But something is going down, something bad. Desperation throbs within your heart, you need to escape. 

Miles pulls you down until you're lying next to him. Gently prys the photo from your hands and looks it over. There's an endless moment that reverberates between you two. "I miss him sometimes'' he confesses, his eyes locked on his father's face. He looks like a child hopeless and lost. Desperate in all the ways you've never been. He pulls you closer and buries his head in the crock of your neck. It almost feels like love. If love was a thousand leeches that stick to every crevice of your body. Slowly infiltrating the heart. Slowly sucking away your life. 

Miles is a storm, a typhoon, a calamity. All hurling winds and bellowing thunder. A hurricane that shakes the world to its core. You've gotten so used to thinking of him as anything but human that you forgot he's just a boy. A boy with a heartbeat and a thousand painful memories all locked behind golden eyes. 

You remember when he used to tell you stories. Back when the safest place for a hero and a villain was the midnight sanctuary of a rooftop.

Stories of his childhood back when his father was still alive. Back when he was seven or maybe eight naive enough to believe his father's empty preaches about justice and righteousness. Mind too preoccupied with the new Rover red hot wheel his father had brought home after his shift. He'd been happy once, a long, long time ago.

Back then you used to think about him, in the spare moments between explosions and your blood pounding through your ears. You used to think about what kind of boy Miles would have been if his father had still been around. How sweet his smile could have been, how precious his soul would have been. Even after he kidnapped you and put you through horrors untold, you still think about the boy he could have been. Dare to imagine who he could have been. You wonder if his touch could have been endearing, could have made you feel safe. Half addicting and half comforting. It's laughable really, you never thought it possible to miss someone you've never met. Yet it unlocks a special kind of sadness within your heart. Maybe in some other lifetime, the two of you could have been real lovers. 

"We're planning to expand outside of New York, take over everything else," Miles says as his eyes grow heavier. He's tired, you think, that's good, that very very good. "There's no one left to get in our way." There's a dreadful banging in the back of your head. A screaming voice begging you to escape, to run away, to do SOMETHING, anything. There's a fatigue that has encompassed Miles, engulfed him whole. He's dead to the world in minutes. Whilst you are tortured by your consciousness. Your gadgets aren't ready. They're made from scrap bits you found around the hideout. Half assembled and never tested. Yet Miles is asleep, exhausted and unconscious. It's the perfect chance to run to return to your old life. 

Take a leap of faith, what's the worst that can happen...

You spare one last glance at Miles. Close your eyes and take in a shaky breath. A leap of faith you repeat within your head. You roll out of the bed and rummage under it to find your hidden gems. They're not perfect, not finished, but hopefully, they'll work. Your gauntlets are the most important part, they should theoretically be strong enough to break the seals on the window. From there you can use what little web filler alternative you were able to make to swing away from this dreadful place. Run and hide, New York is huge he shouldn't be able to find you. 

You rush for the window, pry the bolts loose, pull and pull until your muscles begin to collapse. The window creaks open and it sounds like freedom and hope all entwined with a fleece of dread. You step out onto the ledge. A hunting summer breeze ghosts across your face, as sirens scream in the background. A million lights bathe the city in a welcoming glow. You take a breath, turn around and fall. Diving into a concrete ocean, a place where you can finally feel alive. 

The rebirth of a hero has begun...

What is a hero in a land of villains? A shining star or a decaying light. To them, you are a monster, ripped from your mother's womb with a craving for blood and justice. To Miles, you used to be a beast, chained and tamed. He forgot that you were a numen. That you were something he had to fear. 

There's a divinity hidden inside each hero. Bones made of golden marrow that births sacred cells. A hero's blood is holy Ichor running through their veins. Ripping them apart from the inside and reassembling them as modern martyrs who shall die amongst the neon lights. 

How can you expect anything less from yourself? How can you be anything other than hallowed? You refuse to be anything other than sacred, trimmed in gold, and born of desert diamonds. 

Your eyes are focused on the last warehouse, Vulture, and Dr.Octopus are overviewing the newest cargo shipment. They're the last of the sinister six to die. The final lines to add to your tally. Then you can focus on the prowler.

After you escaped it took many days to find a safe place to hideout. You spend every second rummaging through the streets in search of new parts to use. You need a functional suit, one that could at the very least get you in and out of the Sinister Six's stock houses without detection. Then you could focus on stealing upgrades. You needed the strength, the extra power. There's a festering hunger pounding in your cranium. Desperate to get out. It screams the ballads of a vengeful melody. The need for retribution has become a cruel addiction, one that has driven you further than you ever dreamed possible. 

You stare out at the warehouse from your perch upon a skyscraper. 

 Count the seconds before the bomb detonates. On the count of three, a shiver goes up your spine. An acquainted terror, he's found, you feel his digital case price you from inside the shadows. Phantom pains resurface as old bruises begin to bloom. You earned your freedom to the symphony of breaking bones and tearing flesh. To the desperate tugs of your heartstrings as if it were a harp. There is no way you'll permit him to take it from you again. 

"Long time no see mami" His voice is gruff, hidden behind the layers of his mask. A small part of you used to miss this. Missed the Prowler you had fought almost daily. Missed the punching and kicking and the desperate need to kill or kiss one another. "Hello Miles" you spit his name like poison behind your teeth. Somewhere in the distance the bomb detonates, vermillion and smoke fill the air and you feel your heart skip in jovial delight. 

You twirl across the edge of the building, hands stuck out on either side. You look like a bird, like a ballerina. Like a friendly neighborhood Spidergirl. "What, you want us to beat each other up? For old time's sake."

Mile's mask slips away and he looks at you with eyes too dead for his young age. "You left me!" he screams, with a voice sheathed in pain, in anger, in broken dreams that had shattered far too quickly. 

You wonder if the mask has cut off the oxygen going into his brain. "Of course, I left you!" You scream, "You turned me into a metaphysical, gutless monster, you stripped me of every heroic deed I had embedded into your heart. You robbed me of my faith, my morals, my soul. Did you ever think I could love you after all that..." 

"You're talking crazy little bug, I was protecting you"

"From what! From the villains, I could have destroyed!"

There's rage leaking out of every aperture of his body. Anger within his lungs, pounding and prudent destructive at best. He rushes towards you, with every intent to kill to maim. He tackles you over the edge. You wonder if he has a death wish. You wonder if he's in love. 

You're falling into a sea of dying stars. Miles's arms wrap tightly against your waist. The ground seems infinitely far and yet ever so close. 

You wonder if Miles fears death or if he welcomes it. It wouldn't matter either way. For the first time in longer than you care to remember you feel so alive, dead tissue gives way to the howling wind in your ears. There's no end in sight. If you die, at least you'll die in each other's arms. Raindrops race past you splattering across the pavement, in a final moment of yearning, you sling your web against a low rise hoping it'll soften the fall. 

You wake up to the wet street. Miles's body sprawled out next to you. Inching closer you feel his pulse throb under your fingertips, a caged beast vying for its freedom. Desperate, desperate, desperate, exactly how he makes you feel. His eyes peel open, stardust and nectar falling from them. He's beautiful you think, he's deadly you recall. "and here I thought we had something special mami" he mumbles as his eyes begin to close. He'll live, you're sure of it. You just have to muster enough energy to drag him back to your lair. Tie him up for good measure, give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe now with the Sinister Six gone and the city finally at peace. Maybe now with every bad influence scrubbed clean from his life. Miles can finally become a real boy. Maybe you two can finally become real lovers. 

There's a light that dances in front of your eyes. Rogue fire and magic all wrapped in one. A man steps out of it or maybe a seraphim. It's really hard to tell with the throbbing at the back of your head. He introduces himself. He looks just like you, spiders etched into his skin and pain pooling inside his eyes. You wonder if he's been through the same horrors as you.

But Miguel is older, a crooked thing. All fangs and blood and claws. You peel yourself from the ground and wobble over to him. Collapsing in his arms. Tears fall from your eyes matching the tears of the heavens.

"It's over little one, the pain is finally over" You know he's lying. Yet it soothes you. You know your new life as the protector of New York has just begun. 

You are Spidergirl now and your life has just turned into a Sisyphean labor

Sorry it's not as good as the other two, I was having a hard week lol

taglist: @nkmblackhyuuga @itsnotino @huicitawrites @bennybenten @scarleste @the-rouge-robin @murderofravens

[meazalykov]

redirection VIII

esmee brugts x reader

last chapter: redirection VII

next chapter: redirection IX

saying that I am intimidated would've been an understatement.

a few weeks earlier, laporta invited me to go to paris with aitana, mapi, frido, salma, aitana, and patri.

of course I accepted the offer, but I did have my questions.

out of anybody in the squad, why am I invited to go to THE BALLON D"OR CEREMONY? the event where the best footballers go to celebrate their accomplishments.

anyways-- it took me a while to process that realization. imposter syndrome sucks sometimes. however, a special girl helped me with controlling my thoughts.

I miss esmee. she invited her family to stay with her for a couple of days while we were on break from any games, so I haven't talked to her as much as usual.

in paris, I stood beside mapi and frido as aitana walked in front of us. we got out of the huge van minutes earlier to head towards the red carpet where pictures will be taken.

my hair straightened down my back, complimenting my navy blue dress that was picked out my stylist. I loved it, it went good with my skin tone and fitted my body nicely.

the last thing i needed was a messy look at the biggest event in football.

"you okay?" I heard mapi say to me as she squeezed my arm. I nodded my head and smiled before I saw the carpet.

the amount of cameras that captured us-- the girls-- were overwhelming at first.

we were taking group photos as a team, then the entire barcelona squad (including some of the players from the men's team joining), then individuals.

once the individual pictures happened, I remember something esmee told me a week prior.

"always look confident. you're beautiful, so people will fall head over heels for you."

I'm not sure if I am being delusional-- but I had a gut feeling that she was referring to herself.

anyways, the cameras captured me very well-- especially my dress.

salma and I got pictures with aitana, who is set to win the ballon d'or tonight.

I got 20th on the nomination chart, which blew my mind. tens of millions of footballers in the world, and I happen to be in the top 20.

during the ceremony, everything was wonderful.

I had to walk out on the stage alongside kylian mbappe in the beginning, something most would dream of doing-- but something I didn't pay too much mind to.

during some parts, my mind wondered to esmee.

I wish she was here with me. I've imagined us wearing coordinating outfits-- and one of us taking home the golden award.

however, I am happy for aitana with winning (#goat) and for salma-- who got number three on the nominations.

once the award ceremony was over, I excused myself to make a phone call.

you could make a great guess on who--

"y/n!!"

"esmee!!" I responded after she picked up the FaceTime.

"I'm looking at the pictures online, you look so beautiful." she casually says, I can see her focused and scrolling on her phone.

"says you." I blush.

"aw you're blushing!" esmee laughs.

"stop!" I laugh before I see mapi coming towards me.

"mapi look!" I say and show mapi my phone, which shows esmee smiling while waving at the camera.

"well I'm not surprised! I just came and got you because we have to do more media and pictures." mapi says.

I sigh before looking back at esmee on the camera,

"you heard her?" I say.

"I did." esmee playfully frowns before giggling.

"I'll talk to you later." I say.

esmee waves goodbye before hanging up.

"are you guys together yet?" mapi asks after she sees me hang up the call.

"no, not yet." I sigh, before smirking at the spanish girl who had a smirk as well.

(you know the drill, pretend that this picture is you and has your face at the ballon d'or ceremony <3)

y/n.l/n

liked by aitanabonmati, lena_oberdorf, and 97,316 others

y/n.l/n its a pleasure to experience last night. congrats to @aitana.bonmati, the most deserving of this award 💗 its a great honor to finish in the top 30 as well, among so many greats in this community. i am loving every moment 🙌

comments

*liked by author*

sophsssmith best dressed in my books

naomi_girma all facts🤷🏾‍♀️

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esmeebrugts my girl 😍🥰

news4fem OH!

wosonews672 WAIT WYM BY THAT?

randombarcafan472 I KNEW IT!!

uswnty/n Y/N LIKED THIS TOO WOAH

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aitana.bonmati 🥰

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fridolinarolfo I am still obsessed with your dress 🥰

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next chapter: redirection IX

<3

[snicketstrange]

The Mystery of Kit Snicket: Lies, Retcons, and the Role of R in ASOUE

The story behind the story is very important. Lemony wrote to a supposed sister in TSS. Here we discover that Lemony has a sister named Kit Snicket. And without using any means to try to hide information (as he had done in TCC and TSS), he openly said that he was trying to save the life of his sister Kit. I think we can say with complete certainty that when Lemony published ASOUE in his universe, several years had already passed since the main events narrated in the series.

The important question is: If Kit dies during the main events narrated in ASOUE, how could Lemony try to communicate with her and save her life many years after her death (that is, at the time of the publication of ASOUE)? While some argue for the idea of a "plot hole," I argue for the idea of a "conscious decision made in TE to retcon and make this woman, referred to as Kit at the time of publication, an imposter whom Lemony knew was an imposter and knowingly collaborated with."

In fact, in LSTUA, there were already some hints of this. Consider the original title of chapter 12 of LSTUA: "Is there anything a concerned citizen can do if he or she wants to help the Baudelaires?"

On page 192, we find Lemony’s response to this question. Note who the response letter is addressed to:

"My dear sister, I understand how desperate our situation has become, but it is dreadful enough for people to have to read about the Baudelaires. I cannot imagine who would be brave enough to help them. With all due respect, Lemony Snicket."

What happened here? Someone sent a question to Lemony (the question in the chapter title), and he answered with "my dear sister." Interestingly, in THH, the VFD people handing out balloons and singing at the hospital explained to Klaus that "brother and sister" doesn’t necessarily mean biological siblings but can refer to people in the same organization with the same goals.

With this in mind, we see the development of DH’s idea about Lemony’s "dear sister." In THH, we learn brothers and sisters aren’t always family. Then, in LSTUA, Kit appears as Lemony’s real sister (published in our universe after THH). At the same time, another “secret” character is introduced: R. LSTUA is what truly allowed the world-building from TCC onward to become so consistent.

In a recent 667 interview (well, more like questions sent through Semb), DH said he made outlines for LSTUA and that we could take it seriously. LSTUA laid the groundwork for the Sebald Code, Jacques working on a submarine, and many other things. But back to Lemony’s “dear sister.” LSTUA shows that VFD members sometimes pretend to be other members (and not just Olaf with disguises).

To get straight to the point: I’m saying that R took Kit’s identity and Lemony knew it. Lemony knew Kit had died on the island, her death witnessed by a few people whose whereabouts are now unknown.

Now, look at what R wrote to Lemony on page 25 of LSTUA:

"There are not many of us left, Mr. Snicket, but we are ready to help you in any way we can… Gone are the wigs I used when I wanted to disguise myself as you disguised as someone else."

R promised to help Lemony and was known for going undercover. Did DH forget or ignore R in the main story? No! In fact, R is mentioned in TGG, which proves DH included her in the narrative. Of course, the quotes in TE and TBL are more obvious, but even in TGG, R’s presence is "felt."

In ch. 8 of LSTUA, we see the story about "Miss K" at Prufrock Prep and the photo of a woman Lemony wrote about: "Will I ever see her again?" At first, maybe DH’s idea was that Miss K was Kit. But after TE, we know Miss K cannot be Kit. Kit died before the publication of TBB in the ASOUE universe, while Miss K brought one of ASOUE’s published books to Prufrock Prep. This means Miss K became someone else, not Kit. Probably a retcon, but that’s fine, since it’s never revealed that Miss K is Kit. There are enough loopholes to suggest she’s someone else—most likely R.

As a result, the secret message in TCC and the letter in TSS couldn’t have been sent to Kit. ( Note: R is only a suspect). Since Lemony is an unreliable narrator capable of lying or making mistakes, the recipient could even be Beatrice, whom he believes is alive (maybe she is, maybe not). With Lemony’s unreliability, there are so many possibilities that I have to establish guiding principles for investigating the Baudelaire case.

The fact that Kit is described as alive in TGG, called "my sister Kit" by Lemony, is clear evidence that Lemony lied. When he called her "dear sister," it could’ve been ambiguous, but naming her outright makes it a direct lie. The purpose seems to be to mislead anyone in his universe reading ASOUE to gather intel to capture Lemony or his allies.

By the time TGG was published, Kit had been dead for years. Lemony knew this. Most of his detailed knowledge of the Baudelaires’ thoughts and actions comes from the book written by the island castaways. That book told him how Kit died and where she was buried. This allowed him to write such a detailed account of the Baudelaires, including their private thoughts and actions.

[azsazz]

Change Your Ticket (Part 3)

Rugby Star!Cassian x Reader (A Modern AU)

Summary: Dating famous rugby star Cassian Bailey is a dream. What's not one is keeping your secret relationship under wraps. Will you and Cassian be able to keep from the limelight or will your relationship crumble because of it?

Warnings: Smut, phone sex.

Word Count: 4,212

[Part 1] [Part 2]

_________________________________________

Cassian Bailey would rather be anywhere else but here.

Here, sitting at a table in front of a dozen cameras and even more reporters, sitting on the edges of their seats with gleams in their eyes that make him want to yack. The fresh rugby uniform feels tight around his throat because he knows what they’re going to ask him, and he doesn’t want to answer. He doesn’t want to be here at all, would be in a car on his way back to the hotel and not talk about the Stars’ loss or the fact that Azriel might be out at the end of the week because of an injury or because he just wasn’t in the right headspace today.

He'd been too busy thinking about you and your gorgeous, soft eyes and that perfect smile. Sure, he’d played hundreds of games before he met you, and dozens even more after, but the longer he pursued you and the harder Cassian fell, something changed.

Cassian hadn’t ever had a support system quite like this, someone showing up to his games and supporting him through wins and losses—both surprisingly filled with soft spoken words and even softer touches afterwards. His parents had been taken from him at a young age and he’d ended up in the care system, growing up there until he aged out and was sent to the streets.

He’d been a surprising addition to the Starss. Cassian had been a walk-on and was recruited for his stature, determination, and his potential. Coach Devlin had been the first to offer him some sort of kindness in his short life, offering not only a position on the team, but a family.

But it hadn’t really been a family, not like the one he’d yearned for since he was old enough to comprehend that his parents had given him up in hopes of a better life. Or, at least that’s what the caretakers told him. He doesn’t know exactly how he ended up in care, and he isn’t sure he wants to know. At least no one had crawled out of the woodwork when it had been announced he’d been signed to the Starss, claiming to share his familial name or demanding money.

His brothers on the team had come and go. Nothing was a constant in the world of professional sports. He’d seen men bigger than him with career ending injuries, friends traded to other teams and brothers retire. They were his brothers in sport, not in blood, even though he’s pretty sure he’s had all of their blood on his uniforms from rough games at one point or another. The people he was close to became just that, another notch on his belt of people leaving him.

Until he met you.

When you started discreetly showing up to every home game he played—dressed in a homemade jersey with haphazardly cut felt numbers and glitter glue on the front—knowing you were there, watching him from the stands and cheering him on while he was on his stage, in his element…it made him something he hadn’t been in a very long time: proud.

You had given him the support system that he knew he was missing his entire life. You, this is what it meant to be loved, to have someone showing up for him not because they wanted their name in the press or their photo taken or secrets to spill to the media. You want Cassian for who he is, for all of his good days and bad, the losses and the wins, the imposter syndrome he goes through occasionally. You are his rock, pulling him out of his rut and making him see the shining sun again.

Gods, he misses you.

“Cassian, Cassian,” a female reporter yells, her grating voice snagging his attention. Lights flash brightly in succession, and he blinks once, twice, but the black dots swimming in his vision don’t clear quickly. He guesses they’ve started while he’s been lost in his thoughts. “What do you think went wrong tonight?”

My girl wasn’t here, he thinks sourly. Cassian knows it’s not your fault, you do have a life outside of his, and it’s difficult when what the both of you want don’t align yet. You don’t want to be seen in the press, to be known for taking the Cassian Bailey off of the market. IT would open yourself up to hate and attention that you don’t want, and he understands it, but it doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Right now, he doesn’t like it one bit either.

Cassian’s phone buzzes inside of his pocket, snaring his attention. It has to be you again. His gaze flickers to Coach Devlin, who stands at the back of the room next to Rhysand. They’re leaning against the wall as they await their turns to be questioned, arms crossed over their chests as they watch Cassian answer questions he’s been hearing since he first entered the league. He knows by now how to conduct himself.

Coach would have him running practice twice a day if he knew he had his phone on him, but he couldn’t help himself, snatching it off of the top shelf of his locker after the two-minute shower he’d been allowed, sending off a quick reply to your chain of supportive texts that made his heart flutter and ache simultaneously. Azriel had been waiting for him and Rhys in the locker room, ice pack taped around his ankle, grunting assurances that he’d make it into the next game, come hell or high water.

When Devlin’s gaze roams from Cassian back out into the crowd, Rhys sends him a taunting smirk, and the look in his violet eyes is full of mischief. He is ever the posing face of Devlin’s good graces when the coach or another chain of the team is around, but when it’s just the players? Rhys is as rowdy as the rest of them.

Biting back a tired sigh, Cassian answers the reporter’s question, who is all too eager for his response. Her auburn hair is superbly styled, pinstripe pantsuit pressed to perfection. She stands, recorder shoved in his direction, her dark makeup rimmed eyes piercing his as he speaks.

“I don’t think that there was a certain instance where we did something wrong, per se. Of course, losing a player as great as Azriel was a hit to the team, but we all played our best, and unfortunately, we just weren’t there tonight—” At least, I wasn’t there. “All we can do is practice harder and prepare for the next match.”

The reporter nods, smiling smugly to herself because she asked the first question. Cassian refrains from rolling his eyes as another journalist stands.

Questions trail on and Cassian responds with all of the answers he knows are safe. Ones that don’t allude to anything more so the reporters won’t be able to twist his words or make shit up about him for reads. “We did some great things today, but we will continue to improve,” “The Sealions have a great program and we came into this game knowing it would be a battle,” and his personal favorite, “I’m looking forward to the next time we play.”

The next reporter is familiar, but Cassian can’t quite pinpoint which news station he’s from. He deals with a lot more press than he likes, and it’s nearly impossible to remember any of their names when he’s bored out of his mind and they’re asking all of the same fucking questions.

The man is wiry in his suit, tall and lanky, cheeks rosy from what, Cassian doesn’t know. He has a full moustache on his upper lip with a patch of gray on one side. He taps the notepad in his hand like a reporter from an old-time movie, and Cassian stifles his grin as he pictures a newsies cap on his head and a cigarette hanging from his lips. “Azriel Teller suffered an injury on pitch tonight,” he starts, and Cassian’s annoyance flares because the man isn’t asking anything about himself, but of his teammate. “Do you think this had anything to do with your poor attempt at defending tonight?”

“Excuse me?” Cassian blurts, temper awakening. He shifts his massive body in his seat, leaning forward. An intimidation tactic that doesn’t deter the string bean reporter’s blunt gaze. Cassian notices Coach Devlin slipping closer through the crowd, and he should be grateful that coach is about to interrupt and get him the hell out of here, but now he wants to answer.

“I asked about Azriel Teller’s injury,” the man repeats, slower this time. Cassian’s fingers fist into the hem of his shirt.

“I heard,” he grits, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself. But the beady-eyed fucker won’t look away, won’t do anything but wait impatiently for his answer. The room is dead silent, other reporters on the edges of their seats, waiting for his temper to react instead. They’ll have a field day writing their posts if he does what he wants, which is to curse the motherfucker out. “As I said,” he starts, uncurling his fingers by force from tight fists. He slides his hand over his thigh, resting it on the phone in his pocket and the message he knows is waiting from you. You always help keep him level-headed. “Losing Azriel tonight was an unfortunate event, but he’ll be back in training with the team soon, and we’ll come back stronger than ever for the next match.”

It's a stare off between him and the reporter who is clearly waiting for more. Cassian won’t give it to him. Settling back into his seat, he crosses his arms over his chest, lifting an eyebrow in the silence. Devlin is almost to the front of the room now with Rhys on his heels and the corner of Cassian’s mouth threatens to turn upward.

“Thank you for your time, Cass,” Devlin announces to the room. He’s using his coach voice, strong and loud, controlling all of the attention in the media suite and leaving no room for discourse. “Captain Rhysand will now be taking the floor.”

Thank fuck, Cassian thinks, slipping from his chair as quickly and smoothly as he can. As a six-four giant, he probably looks like a fool, trying to crouch down out of the way of the cameras, but he manages.

Releasing a tired breath when the door shuts behind him, cutting off the already growing shouts of attention from the Stars Captain, Cassian takes a moment to himself, lingering down the halls towards the locker room so he can toss on his sweats and meet his driver for the night.

The locker room is empty when he arrives to hastily gather his things. Even Azriel has disappeared, the grumpy player must have either went to visit the athletic trainer again or was sent back to the hotel by coach.

Once Cassian has managed to grab all of his things, he makes way for the blacked-out SUV that is driving him back to the hotel. The driver helps him load his things and he settles into the cushy leather seat with a sigh, finally taking a moment to breathe.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he pulls up the text chain he has with you. He’d hardly had time to text you between the post-game lecture Devlin had wanted to give and the media room, but he sees he has a few missed texts from you while he was busy deflecting indirect blame from the team and blatant blaming from that asshole reporter.

Sweetheart: I’m sorry for the loss, wish I was there to hold you. :/

Sweetheart: And hug you and kiss you and try to cheer you up.

And:

Sweetheart: Give me the name and workplace of that reporter. I have a strongly-worded email I’m drafting to send to his boss. What a jerk.

The last one makes him chuckle, typing back a response.

Cass: Pretty sure Coach Devlin is giving him a piece of his mind right now on my behalf, maybe Rhys too if we’re lucky.

Sweetheart: Don’t care. They’ve got nothing on me.

Cass: That’s my girl. I miss you.

Sweetheart: I miss you too. Are you on your way back to the hotel?

Cass: Just got on the road. Stay awake for me?

Sweetheart: Of course <3

The ride to the hotel doesn’t take long. Cassian ignores the few paparazzi that are waiting outside for him as the driver helps him gather his things. He thanks the man with a genuine smile that turns faker the longer he tries to push his way inside, ignoring the shouts and questions thrown his way. He’s exhausted, and only wants to speak to you.

Cassian all but drops his things to the ground once he manages to get inside of his room. He slides the lock shut with a loud click and releases a heavy breath, shoulders drooping.

His phone is already in hand, unlocking it and pressing on your contact to call you as he makes his way further into the pristine room he’s been staying in for the past few days. Flicking on one of the lamps, he nearly jumps in surprise at the display set up on the coffee table.

A bouquet of colorful flowers stands tall in a vase, surrounded by his favorite candies scattered across the glass top. There’s a pint of ice cream—Moose Tracks—with a little note folded on top and his heart flip-flops at the sight.

He reaches for the card, awe-struck at the sight. He doesn’t need to read the note to know exactly who it’s from, but he does so anyway.

Because ice cream always helps me fight the scaries.

Your love, (Y/N)

P.S. FUCK THE HATERS!

With a laugh, Cassian dials your number, grinning like a love-sick fool at your note.

“Hello?” you answer, and he loves how you say it like you don’t know what it is you’ve done, making him a soft mess like this, heart close to bursting with emotion. Your voice is enough to wash away the remainder of the guilt and disgust he felt from how the match ended and the interviews following.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t have to do all this,” Cassian says softly.

“I did it because I love you and I couldn’t be there tonight. I’m sorry for that.”

You don’t have to be sorry. You have a busy life with your own things going on as well, and he gets that. As much as he wishes you would just allow him to take care of you so he can keep you on the road with him, he understands that you’re not quite ready to take that step in your relationship yet. Being on the road with him means going out in public together and facing the media frenzy and all of the attention that comes with it.

“I understand, sweetheart. Don’t be sorry,” he answers, checking the time on his phone. It’s late, and you should both be getting to sleep soon. He has an early morning tomorrow, traveling home with the team. He pictures how you’ll look when he inevitably winds up off the plane at your place, if your hair will be mussed with sleep or if you’ll be wearing those skimpy sleep shorts and his shirt. The thought makes his body flush. “Are you able to talk?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying the ice cream I sent you?” you muse over the phone, and that teasing lilt to your tone has Cassian aching already.

“I’d rather enjoy you,” he breathes, shoving the pint of ice cream into the freezer, bypassing the rest as he makes his way towards his room. You’d called a place nearby and asked them to deliver some of Cassian’s favorite treats to his hotel, along with a bouquet of flowers he always sends you. There’s a note along with the surprise, but there wasn’t enough room to say all of the things you wanted to at the time, so you’re glad he called. “What are you wearing?”

As lovely as your gesture is, now that he has you on the phone and can hear your voice, calming his very bones, he wants nothing more than to revel in you. Your soft hands, trailing down his chest and gripping his cock, your plush lips trailing the same path. He misses your body, plaint under his touch, the way you cling to him. Cassian’s cock jumps with excitement at the breathy laugh you respond with.

“You don’t want to talk about it?” your voice is soft, shy, and it makes Cassian’s steps falter and his shoulders relax. This, this is why he loves you, because you’re willing to give him what he needs, but you aren’t one to ignore the harsh truths.

Cassian considers for a moment. He could retrieve the ice cream from the freezer and drown the loss in your kind words and sweets, or he can use what little energy he has left from the grueling day to listen to you talk about all the things you’d be doing to each other if you were here. By the way his abdomen tightens at that particular thought, he had his answer.

“I’d rather talk about how you’d make me feel better if you were here,” he responds, voice taking on the gravelly edge that makes your thighs clench. He can talk to you about the loss when he arrives home in a few days. He’d rather have something to brighten his mood before all he has to hear about tomorrow is coach’s lectures on the way home.

He can hear you shuffling on the other side of the phone. You’re probably already in bed, and he can picture you curled up in one of his shirts, cozy under the blankets with your iPad open beside you so you could watch the game while finishing up some freelance projects this weekend.

The game had been scheduled for the evening, one of his favorites because the night games created such a different atmosphere than those held during mid-day or morning. People were rowdier, willing to drink more. The chants of each team echo throughout the stadium as if twice as many people are there. The lights blaring down on the field put him on a stage he’s become more than comfortable with, and the cool air of the night fuels him.

“And what makes you think I’d be doing all that?” you poke, but Cassian can hear the soft snick of your laptop shutting and shuffling on the other side that tells him he has your full attention.

“Doing all what?” he counters, putting the phone on speaker so he can rip his sweatshirt over his head. He makes a face at the pristinely made, sterile hotel bed he has to attempt to sleep in for one more night, but maybe with your help he’ll finally be able to. “You’re going to have to explain what you mean by that, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitches and Cassian grins, shoving the gray sweatpants along with his boxers over his hips. The sheets of the bed are tucked tightly between the mattress and frame, and he struggles for a moment to release them from their traps before climbing in, leaving them just covering above his knee.

He knows things are about to get hot.

His cock rests thickly against his stomach as he grabs his phone, placing it on his chest to keep you close.

“Well,” you start, and he can tell you’re already a little breathless. Shutting his eyes, he imagines the blush to your cheeks, the shyness that overcomes your body before the wilder side comes out to play. “First of all, I would have drawn you a nice, hot bath because I know you either would’ve skipped out at the match altogether, or you would’ve taken a two-minute long one and hardly properly washed yourself.” Cassian can’t help the grin that tugs at his mouth. You’re correct, of course, so he plays along for now.

Cassian doesn’t have lotion or lube, because he hadn’t thought he was going to be getting up to this sort of debauchery. He’d gone a few days without you just fine, and had even suffered a loss while you weren’t able to make it before, but tonight of all nights, he just needs to hear you.

Spitting into his hand, he brings it down to his shaft, sliding long strokes across the silken skin. The roughness of his hands doesn’t even compare to the softness of yours, and it’s hard for him to picture your delicate ones caressing his length, but he shuts his eyes, letting his head fall back on his shoulders as he focuses on the sound of your voice.

“Would you have gotten into the bath with me?” he asks, picturing it now. You guiding him towards the steaming bath, your freshly scenting soap you bring to all of the trips he takes you on permeating the air. He would kiss you fully, letting himself bathe in your senses before you ultimately would have wrangled him into the tub with promises of kisses and more touching later. Cassian gets a hand around himself, stroking his length slowly. “Or would you have made me get in it all by my lonesome?”

“I’m thinking I would’ve helped you out of that uniform,” you answer, and Cassian can hear your desire down the line. He grips the base of his cock tighter as you continue. “I would’ve done it slow too, so I could touch all along that perfect body of yours. Up over your abs, brushing across your pecks, and then I’d have gotten on my knees—”

“(Y/N),” he chokes, fisting his cock in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting you to say that, of all things.

Cassian follows the length of his cock back to the head where a bead of precum pearls at the tip. Biting back a hiss as he skims over his slit, he uses it to his advantage, slicking his way back down.

You continue on as if Cassian hadn’t interrupted at all. “Because you tie those pesky shorts so tightly,” he can hear the pout in your tone, picturing those perfect lips jutted out as your stare up at him. Cassian knew you were good at this whole long-distance-sex-over-the-phone thing, but he didn’t know you’d be this good.

He catches a soft whimper from your side of the phone and leans his head against the headboard, reveling in it. He hopes you’re touching yourself, imagining him swirling your clit between his calloused fingers, scooping your slick for a taste. Every noise you’ve ever made for him is committed to his memory, and so what if he decides now is the perfect time to reflect on those noises? He is just a man, after all.

“I’d help you get them off, you know, if you only ask.”

Your hum catches in your throat and you release a shaky breath that shudders the line. “But I’m stubborn, so I don’t ask for your help, even though your hard-on is making it difficult to get your pants down,” Cassian can’t help the splitting grin and huffs. “And then your cock bounces up from the fabric and wow, Cass, you’re so fucking big, looking like you could split me in two.”

Cassian grunts in response, jerking his hand faster. Skin dragging on skin, he’s desperate for more. “Don’t think you know what you might do with it?” he goads, words shuttering. “You look so pretty on your knees, sweetheart, what are you going to do with me?”

You whine down the line and his heart stutters in his chest. He aches for you.

“I can’t decide if I want you in my mouth or in my hands, so I take you in both,” you start, and Cassian squeezes his eyes shut tightly, gripping the base of his cock so he doesn’t orgasm prematurely. He loves that combination of yours. It’ll have him falling to his own knees in a matter of moments, as you work your skilled tongue around his length.

“Sweetheart, (Y/N), please,” he pleads. If you don’t stop now, he’ll explode because of his picturesque imaginations.

You don’t slow down, don’t give him the time to stave away his impending orgasm. You’re too full on in it now, just as he is, yearning for the other from other a country away.

“Come home to me,” you plead breathlessly.

“Can I cum first, sweetheart?” Cassian tries to tease, but it sounds like a beg.

“Where are you cumming?” you ask, and he realizes quickly that you’re back to playing your game. There’s a twinge of sadness in your tone now, and it makes his chest ache, but you’re panting and soft noises tell him that you’re still working yourself, closer and closer to your edge.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, pumping himself faster. Heat coils low in his gut and he’s getting close, can hear you coming undone on the other end of the line. “I’ll cum wherever you want me to.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Change Your Ticket Taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy @starsinyourseyes @jdeclerc @indiedash @kennedy-brooke @tothestarsandwhateverend @azsteris @obsessivereaderchick @aalxrose

[darklinaforever]

When I see people dismissing the theory of imposting her or swapping with Lilith just to fit the absolute vision that she abandoned Lucifer and Charlie to outright reveal herself as the bad guy, I want to pull my hair out. The request is to add that Lilith having a clone would be stupid. Really ? Would that be so stupid ?! With this type of images ?!

First image, Eve without a face with a smile, second image supposed to be Lilith but strangely faceless too even though we know her very well (so what do that ?), with an expression / smile almost identical to that of Eve, then another representation of Lilith, still faceless, with a hairstyle reminiscent of Eve. Then the official account of the show posting two photos of the family Morningstar saying that the devil is in the details (so ​​why are people making fun of fans dwelling on details of Lilith's appearance ? Vivziepop probably wants her fans to do that !) ?! Like... it's obvious people that there are exchanges / replacement of Lilith at one point or another in the history of the Hazbin Hotel Universe.

[florisa6s]

A idea- Tim ideas?

I feel like Tim has the normal photos he shows others and the ones he took of the bats then there's just the ones he never shows anyone or is just random.

----

Dick: aw Tim this is such a good photo

Tim: really you like it?

Dick: yeah I do- oh what's this?

Tim: oh probably just another photo- wait no don't look at that!

Dick: is this younger me in my room?! How did you get this?! How did you get past the security?!

------

Jason: hey what's this picture of?

Tim: what picture?

Jason: this one

Tim: ohh that's from the time I fell off a fire escape, took a photo mid air.

------

I fully believe Tim would break in and sneak around the manor even before he was Robin, no one caught him and he'd have very close calls with Alfred.

Alfred definitely knew someone was breaking into the manor but never figured it out but he had some suspicions especially since it stopped once Tim became Robin.

And there's just a bunch of random blurred photos of every time Tim would have to run, hide or whenever he would fall.

------- little rant down here can skip if you want-----

I honestly loved the idea of Tim having some kind of imposter syndrome in the batman like not feeling part of the family and being a replacement for Jason, like from another post I've seen which you probably seen where they speak about Bruce calling Tim Jason which is a brilliant thought that I honestly wished I thought of earlier but I never really thought about it much. (Forgot who was the creator of this post I'm talking about)

I feel like Tim wouldn't tell anyone about this that he probably sees it as normal until it happens in front of someone like Bruce calling him Jason during a mission on the coms or maybe both Jason and Tim are in trouble and instead of Tim everyone goes for Jason. (I always thought it was a nice idea for Tim fics to focus around this idea and I always liked watching them go through the process)

I could see Tim being absolutely overjoyed having his own team and friend group I think he'd probably be super protective over them especially with the bats like he wouldn't like then to meet the other bats he would ban them from talking to any of the other bats if it's not for a mission or anything. (I'll probably make a continued post about the YJ and Tim later)

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻

🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀

so very excited for these!!! hope you're having a great week❣️

Thank you! You too! <3

54 for 🗻:

---

Eddie doesn’t know what to say. He knows what he would have wanted to hear, when he woke up to find Chris asleep beside him and nothing but a note left of Shannon. He knows what support he needed then. But this isn’t the same as then. Not even close. Shannon was his wife. They were married. Despite his later sexual revelations, he had really wanted them to be together. Jaylin is a stranger. One who Buck already has issues with. 

“What do I do?” Buck asks. “Eddie, what do I do now?”

Eddie takes a deep breath. Pulls himself together. This isn’t his story. This isn’t Shannon.

“We take him home,” Eddie says. “We take him home, and we take care of him, and… And we love him. And we get our shit together in case she comes back.”

Buck looks at him with complete fear in his eyes. 

“He’s… I’m…”

“We’ll all be okay,” Eddie promises. “He has a whole family with us.”

Buck takes a deep breath. 

“You’re right,” he says. “We can give him everything he needs.”

iii. 

They keep him.

They keep him, and Jaylin never comes. 

Days pass, and then weeks. They don’t hear a word from her. They all move forward as if it’s a certainty. As if she won’t. Arthur is here to stay. And if she does come back? If she does ask for him back? Eddie knows they’ll fight for him. 

He’s not sure when it happens. When he goes from caring for Arthur because he loves Buck, to loving Arthur in an individual way. There’s no one moment where it happens. No singular gummy baby smile or funny little facial expression that makes Eddie go, oh, I love this kid. He doesn’t wake up one morning or another feeling any different. It’s not like it was with Chris, where one moment he was born, and Eddie’s heart and world was forever changed. 

But it happens, nevertheless. 

He knows it’s happened when he finds himself showing his dentist photos of the baby when he asks about Eddie’s son.

“Sons,” he corrects. Then catches himself. “I have a stepson, now.”

He knows it’s happened when he feels sort of desperate to see him after a long shift. Like he’s gone too long away from him, the way he feels about Christopher. 

He knows it’s happened when someone knocks on the door out of the blue one day, and he finds himself scared it’s Jaylin. 

---

54 for 🔀:

---

Athena has given him advice. How to keep himself safe, how to move forward until they have more information. She’s staying vigilant for him. She’s keeping an ear out for any more information on this imposter, digging more into Ingram, who seems not to have much of a paper trail behind him. But still, they have no answers.

And Buck still doesn’t tell anyone else.

He talks to Eddie almost every day and he never says a thing. It’s not even the same as Maddie. He could tell Eddie. He’s not risking his mental health if he does. But despite talking to the guy every day, the words just never leave his mouth. He can’t. He can’t tell. He’s afraid of the response, even if he doesn’t know why. He hasn’t done anything wrong. 

“Fair warning,” Eddie says one evening while discussing moving plans. “Chris has this new favorite book series? You’re going to hear about it. He wants me to read it, which means you need to read it, so you can fill me in on what happens while I slowly and painfully make my way through it.”

Buck laughs. “You got it. What’s the name?”

“Uh… Some fantasy thing. I’ll text it to you.” 

“Alright. I’ll try to have at least one of them done before you’re back,” Buck says. “Two weeks. That’s so soon!” 

“I know,” Eddie says. “I’m pretty excited. I have a lot to fill you in on.” 

“Oh yeah?” Buck asks. “Like what?”

“Not a phone discussion,” Eddie says.

That makes Buck pause. What would Eddie have to tell him that he couldn’t say over the phone?

“Uh, is everything okay?” Buck asks. 

“Yeah! Oh, yeah. No, it’s all good. Good stuff.” 

Something is off in his voice. Buck can’t quite tell what, though.

“Alright,” he says. “Well, I guess I’ll find out in two weeks.”

“You will.” 

iii. 

A week later, Buck is off-shift, and he spends the day doing errands. It’s not his favorite off-shift activity. He used to like it more. He used to think about other people when he was shopping; Chris, Eddie, Tommy, Natalia. People. 

[beifong-brainrot]

As fascinating as the idea of the Beifongs alienating Kuvira ( and don't get me wrong, there probably was a lot of that. Looking at you, Opal) i ADORE the concept of Kuvira feeling like an imposter, Kuvira purposefully setting herself aside from the Beifongs.

As much as the Beifongs like to pretend she's one of them, she KNOWS she's not. She doesn't look like her 'siblings', doesn't talk like them, she knows that somewhere deep down, she's still that foul tempered little farm girl.

So she purposefully isolates herself. She doesn't even try to bond with Opal, who clearly hates her. She doesn't play with Wing and Wei. She doesn't call Su mom, or Baatar Sr dad.

For some reason, I love the idea of Kuvira being the one who refused to be in the Beifong family photo.

Just Su trying to assimilate Kuvira into her family and Kuvira being too self conscious and wary to even entertain the idea.

If her own parents threw her away like she was nothing, who's to say the Beifongs wouldn't either?

So what's the point of even trying, or getting attached?

[theamityelf]

(Mini THH AU Masterlist)

In the Mini THH AU, the first motive is a little different. Closer to the THH first motive:

Each of the senpais is given an envelope and told that it contains a true thing that happened to someone or something they love during the time they don't remember.

(The kouhais don't get directly targeted for any motive stuff; being physically tiny during a killing game is already a pretty big motive, and they themselves serve as motives to their senpais in different ways.)

Imposter pretty immediately orders the group not to open their envelopes: The envelopes are explicitly designed to make them want to start the killing game. "So long as your envelope is sealed, we'll know that you have no motive to kill anyone." (Meaning, anyone with an open envelope will become a suspect.)

Fuyuhiko of course ignores him and opens his envelope and takes out a photograph of his dead sister, with a caption that reads 'Natsumi Kuzuryu, beaten to death by Sato [surname]'. He freaks out, but someone points out that the photo could be edited/fake, to upset him into murdering someone.

Nagito says, "Why don't you ask Mahiru? I'm sure the Ultimate Photographer would know the difference between an edited and unedited photo."

Fuyuhiko brandishes the photo at Mahiru, demanding to know whether it's fake.

Mahiru knows that the photo isn't edited. But she sees the caption and just generally reads the room enough to know that she can't tell them that, so she says it's fake and makes up a really detailed reason why she can tell it's fake, related to the size of the lens, etc.

Fuyuhiko isn't entirely mollified, but he subsides for the moment, basically storming off. Now everyone's curious what's in their envelope, but Imposter and Mahiru remind everyone that the photos are fake and they can't let Monokuma trick them into killing each other, so they don't open their envelopes. They go back to their cabins.

In his cabin, Nagito checks his envelope. Makoto thinks it's a bad idea, but Nagito brushes off his concerns with a smile.

The photo is just of his house on fire, with a caption matter-of-factly referring to an angry mob. Nagito shrugs, like, "It happens."

Makoto says, "I'm sorry about your house. I hope your family is okay."

Nagito explains that his family is dead and cheerfully brushes off attempts to comfort him about it, but ultimately he and Makoto have a pretty nice conversation. Under normal circumstances, he might want the others to open their envelopes, but Makoto has convinced him not to instigate in that way.

In her cabin, Mahiru opens her envelope.

It shows a picture of her dad, with a caption saying he was killed by Kazuichi. (A lot of the envelopes say the loved ones were killed by Kazuichi, because the machines he made count as his own kills. Though it doesn't explain that much; it just says he killed them.) She knows the photo isn't edited.

Teruteru may or may not open his envelope; if he does, he'll convince himself the contents are a lie. Imposter not only doesn't open his, but he puts it where no one else can find or open it, successfully preventing Junko from implicating him. Mikan doesn't open hers. Gundham maybe doesn't open it at first, but Toko or Syo talk him into it, or Syo just opens it herself and once the seal is broken he may as well look. Nekomaru, Chiaki, Sonia, Akane, and Hajime don't open theirs.

Ibuki doesn't open hers, but Sayaka opens it for her. Once again, a loved one killed by "Kazuichi".

Hiyoko opens hers; same deal.

Peko has to open hers to make sure Fuyuhiko isn't the only one with a motive, and hers is maybe a person she trained with or under. Also killed by Kazuichi.

Kazuichi doesn't open his, but he does notice that some of his classmates are looking at him differently and treating him oddly. They don't admit that they've opened their envelopes, but their hostile or skittish vibes toward him make his nervousness skyrocket, to the point where Chihiro is the one comforting him.

Peko in particular frightens him. Since the person in her envelope was probably yakuza, Fuyuhiko gives her the go-ahead to confront him, demanding an explanation.

Which of course he can't give, and the confrontation is inconclusive on her end and very scary on his. He was probably fearing for his life the whole time.

So, when Mahiru tries to pull him aside one evening, he's already super on edge; he thinks it's Peko coming back to finish him off. Maybe he swings his wrench at her, in what he perceives as self-defense, and she dodges, takes it as a deliberate attack, and impulsively pushes him down the stairs or something of the sort.

(As he's falling, Chihiro flies out of his pocket and then lands on his chest. Possibly injured by the fall, but not dead. Kazuichi is, though. Sorry I keep killing him first, but if it helps, he had a great dynamic with Chihiro before this. Super respectful. They unpacked a lot of their hangups about gender together. It was great.)

Mahiru bursts into tears, shocked and horrified, and that's when Nagito happens across her, dries her tears, and offers his help covering up the crime.

A distraught Mahiru basically just watches dazedly as Nagito puts Makoto in his pocket and zips it up, hides Chihiro someplace safe but out of the way (maybe just taking them back to their terrarium in Kazuichi's cabin, where they have food and water already, and making it so the electric door won't open), and moves the body to where it won't be found until later.

He encourages her to just return to her own cabin and get some rest. And calm her kouhai; Hifumi looks really stressed, and it would be bad if he gave her away.

While he's in Kazuichi's cabin hiding Chihiro away, he also opens Kazuichi's envelope to complicate things and makes various tool sounds so people will think Kazuichi is in there working, to confuse the time of death. And he briefly takes Makoto out of his pocket, to try to calm him down (and also feed him, because they will be missing breakfast; if he went to breakfast and didn't let Makoto out of his pocket, people would notice, and if he did let Makoto out of his pocket, Makoto would tell people what happened).

Plus, not showing up to breakfast would make him a suspect, which is good for the mystery.

"I know you're upset, but you really should eat," Nagito sighs, holding Makoto securely in one hand and a palm full of breadcrumbs in the other. "It's going to be a long day. Hey, it's not too hot in my pocket, is it? I'm not sure how your small body handles my body heat. I'll just wrap an ice cube in a napkin and put it in there with you, okay?"

[a-student-out-of-time]

The Imposters

(Part 1)

We can confirm definitively that Misako-san has indeed given birth before. And we can also confirm that, indeed, the person whom we met was her daughter. Kana-chan had AB blood, while Misako-san has AB.

Please, now that we know she was my daughter, is there anything else you can confirm about us?

Misako-san...I'm very sorry...but you need to see this. It's...well...

*Harumi hands her the photo from Hiroshima*

...Ko...Kotetsu....Kana....a-and....that's....I recognize that face.

It's...It's me! But then, why do I look like this...?

...Okay, I see why you were all confused now. That girl is a dead ringer for Kana! But...how?!

__________________________________________________

Remember when I said I'd affected four currently living people? Well, that much was true.

Buuut, the total number was actually five.

What...What did you do?!

Well, to put my plan in motion, I had to...recruit some actors.

________________________________________________

Their real names are Eimi Misako and Eimi Kana, and we also found the remains of an adult man in a public park. They're a solid match for Eimi Kotetsu, the last member of this family.

They went missing about 8-10 months ago, which matches up with the time frame the real Ise Kana has been out of the country.

Shirogane had been planning the long con for this one. She hit the area they were living with her algae, and completely manufactured new identities for them.

And for extra credibility, she tied those fake memories with ones she made up for me and Tenmei.

___________________________________________________

You'd be amazed how much shit is available about celebrities when you go searching! I had everything I needed to create a perfect facsimile of Ise Kana! One so good that nobody on the island even realized!

But I needed someone who had a decent resemblance to her, since I'm not a plastic surgeon. Turns out I got pretty lucky and found someone who was nearly identical.

But of course, her backstory needed a little spicing up here and there.

__________________________________________________

Seiyuus like Ise Kana are basically idols. There's no way someone like her would've been living in poverty or had any reason to go to that stupid island.

Which has to mean Shirogane was in on all that too, right?!

But...But Kana and I took a DNA test! It proved we're half-siblings!

I don't mean to scare you, but if she didn't just fake all those tests on the island...then she may have copied your family's DNA and fed into her bone marrow. It would've made her a chimera, but good enough to fool us enough not to look too much deeper.

And guess what? Now that I had time to sit down and check, the only copies of your DNA I could find were in her blood. Everything else matches Misako-san's DNA, and I'm willing to bet any DNA I can pull out of Kotetsu-san's bones will be the other half.

But...But why? Why do all this?! How could I have...u-unless...

_______________________________________________

What the hell else did you do to them?!

Well, in addition to some new memories for her parents and some new identities for our actresses, I had to give Chiaki-chan a little...nudge. A mild adjustment, one that nobody would've noticed.

All she really needed was some...motivation, I suppose you could call it?

It's so easy to love and hate your parents at the same time, isn't it?

And suddenly, boom! She has a beloved long-lost sister she can bond with! Someone with her own tragic past, someone who needs to rescued and who she can forge a lifelong bond with...only to be cut down in her prime!

Storm was a perfect patsy, wasn't he? You were all so fixated on him, you never thought too hard about the inconsistencies in all this until you had to.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Double anon answer cus similar ideas.

I can imagine that the immediate reaction from the Red Sons, is to cast fireball at the "imposter" DBK just in case its SWK playing a really complicated prank (he did turn himself into DBK in Jttw).

After a lightning round Q&A - including the infamous "When was the exact hour Red Son was born?", both families determine that they are in fact alternate versions of one another.

Princess Iron Fan is the first to notice something very off about her Au self.

Canon!PIF: "You look... exhausted." Au!PIF, smiling excitedly: "I am!" Canon! Ironbull, like a psychic lightbulb moment: *simultaneous gasp!!!* Canon!DBK, uber hyped-up: "LET US SEE THE CHILD!" *cue both pairs of the Ironbull parents charging off towards the Demon Bull palace's nursery*

The Second Son/"Black Boy"/Huoshan is about to have a bunch of confusing wake-up kisses.

The spicynoodles reaction to one another depends on whether or not spicynoodles has already occurred in the canon verse. Otherwise, if we're strictly canon; then this the first time Canon Red and MK have considered eachother anything but shaky powerful allies.

Canon!Red, at seeing their parents run off: "What was that about?" Au!Red: "Probably about my little brother Huoshan. He was a long time coming." Canon!Red, trying to hide his own excitement: "A baby brother!? How dare you not be overjoyed on our parents behalf!" Au!Red: "Normally I'd be running off with them too, but I too am exhausted. The twins have been running me ragged." Canon!Red, blue-screen-error: "wut?" (°∀°) Au!Red, too tired to wonder what the issue is: "Yeah the girls have been keeping Me and MK up at all hours. Monkey plus bull genes equals loud chirping calves." Canon!Red, blush covering face: "..." Au!Red: "Of course there was the whole debacle with Uncle True Compliant sabotaging mother and father's plans for more children, and trying to kill MK. That really stressed the situation." Canon!Red, hair starts steaming: "....!?!" Au!Red: "And thank buddha that jiā gōng [father-in-law] gave mother that vase from Guanyin. Would have never gotten rid of that curse from grandmother otherwise." Canon!Red, mouth agape: "!!!!!!" *making sound of a boiling kettle* Au!Red: "Thankfully me and my sunflower get a lot of help from-" *notices the look on Canon!Red's face* "Are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost." Canon!Red: *hair flooms up like a pink wildfire* Au!Red, realizing: "AH. You uh... haven't gotten to those parts yet I bet?" Canon!Red: *nods head slowly* *the two MKs walk into the room* Canon!MK: "Hey Red Sons! Other me was just showing me the baby bull photos! The twin girls are super cute! Are they this Red's sisters or-" Canon!Red, flames growing higher: "AAAAaaaaaa...!" Au!MK, looking disappointed at his Red: "You told him the twins were ours, didn't you?" Canon!MK, interrupting before Au!Red can reply: "THEY ARE!?! OH MY BUDDHA! No wonder they have little monkey face patterns!" *starts squeeing loudly* *Canon spicynoodles are both screaming, and theres now a large fire in the Demon Bull palace entrance hall* Au! Spicynoodles: "Could have gone worse, right?" "I mean, the Nezhas had a little more flames."

The Canon MK & Red are in near shock for the rest of the visit, and refusing to meet eachothers gaze. Mostly cus they keep getting reminded by the Au!DBK about his "PERFECT GRANDDAUGHTERS!" (currently being babysat by their other grandparents), and by the baby photos plastered almost everywhere. A small fight does break out between the Bull Families at supertime though.

Canon!DBK: "So did your son release you from under the mountain as well?" Au!DBK, spoon-feeding little Huoshan: "Yes, in a sense. My body was trapped under the mountain for sometime until my Red and the little thief lifted the staff. Canon!DBK: "Ah. Much the same." Au!DBK: "Ingenious how he was able to contact me in the astral plane in the meantime though. Brother Pigsy and Sandy really helped Red bring out the best in himself." Canon!DBK: "...excuse me? The swine and the boatman!?" Au!PIF: "You seem shocked. We've known Chef Zhu and Sandy almost ever since I brought Red home from the Southern Ocean. Save for the whole, underworld and the staff fiasco, we've been nothing but amicable." Canon!PIF: "The Southern Ocean? But I brought Red Son home with me over... how long has your Bull been out of the mountain?" Au!PIF: "Physically? Only a few years. It's a bit of a long story. His physical body couldn't be released with the staff still in the mountain, but my genius little boy honed his mediatation skill enough so we could at least have some family time in the astral plane." Canon Ironbull: "...what." "WHY DIDN'T YOU DO THAT!?" Canon!Red: "Hey! I don't know if I can do that! This is an entirely different universe father!" Canon!MK: "Yeah! And at least thank him for making the gauntlet in the first place. If he never made that, you would probably still be a bull skull underground." Canon!DBK: "Not another word little thief. I am still wondering why you and your simian counterpart are even here." Au!MK, already peeved at Canon!Ironbull: "Cus me and my Red are married!" *Table is quiet, esp on the Canon end* Canon!Ironbull: "What." Au!MK, realises that he shouldn't have said that: "Hehehe, yeah... married. Where do you think the twins came from? Hehe" *nervous laughter* Canon!Ironbull: "..." Canon!DBK, turns seriously to his Red: "Son... WHY HAVEN'T YOU MARRIED THE LITTLE THIEF AND GIVEN US PERFECT GRANDCALVES?!" Canon!Red, hair flooming up blush-pink: "Father! You just don't say that!!!"

So yeah, most of the Canon and Au crossover is Canon Ironbull getting dunked on + Canon Red Son dying of embarassment at learning that the Noodle Boy becomes his Noddle Boy in marriage in the alternate timeline. Canon PIF & DBK might have reservations on Red being with MK, but the thought of beautiful grandkids (and Red's confirmations that there's hope for more Ironbull children) really makes a compelling argument.

[krafterwrites]

Ok, time for the one post I'll make about Sonic 3 itself now that it's out. Since there's already a full recording of it available online, I'm going to write down my "live reactions" (I already know basically everything that's going to happen, but I'm sure there's at least one or two small surprises left) below the cut so I can get this movie out of my system and move on

The first lines of dialogue are a "Cops love donuts" joke. Off to a great start

A gambling ad popped up right as Shadow broke out and started attacking people gljkdfgh

4 minutes in and they've already used the leitmotif of Live And Learn 3 times

Shadow being sopping wet and miserable is pretty cute

Ace already said this but wow they really did ruin the "Talk about low budget flights line", Sonic saying it feels soooo unnatural and shoehorned in

Unless it's for a really good sequence, I don't understand the point of playing a licensed song for literally 10 seconds

Wow the opening fight with all three of them against Shadow is super short

I'm glad that the gun isn't just for show and he actually gets to use it

I seriously cannot get over how stupid Shadow coming from a meteor is, the entire POINT of his character is that he was created. He was born to be the ultimate lifeform, to be a cure for Maria, to bring hope to humanity. Him just randomly showing up instead of specifically being created undermines his entire identity. Also, Gerald creating Shadow is incredibly important to his identity as well. It's almost impressive that they managed to fuck up so much with a single decision

The dialogue has already made me cringe a few times but that was definitely the worst instance so far. I wish they would stop

YIPPEE OFFICER DOWN!!!

Walters having a photo of Team Sonic in his jacket that was taken like 5 minutes beforehand so Rockwell can pick it up to illustrate that she thinks Team Sonic killed him is kind of strange and unnecessary

I thought that the show Eggman was watching was another gambling ad for a second

Eggman said boobs. Sure why not

I forgot that they're allowed to swear a bit

I thought they were going to reference Among Us when Stone said imposter. I wish they did, it would've been an actually acceptable pop culture reference

I'm kind of torn on the flashback montage with Maria. It feels a little too silly and lighthearted, but it is cute to see her and Shadow do a bunch of childish stuff together

However, her not being terminally ill and also not spending her entire life in space is dumb. Those are both very important to who she is, and consequently, who Shadow is (he was initially made to be a cure for her, and her love for the planet that she never got to see is what motivates him). I know both of these are consequences of them making Shadow come from a meteor, but there was literally no reason for them to do that, especially considering it messed up him, Gerald, AND Maria. Why would they make that choice when it doesn't add anything and has such a high cost

The Biolizard puppet is cute, though. They should've actually included it (along with Rouge, Amy, and all the other things they omitted), but I guess it's better than nothing

Oh god Gerald is here. I was thinking "So far this isn't as hard to watch as I thought it would be" but it's probably going to get significantly more painful soon

That was a Family Guy cutaway gag

How is a bunch of loose popcorn still in pristine condition after 50 years of sitting out in the open

That was a bad fourth wall joke. Also get on it, this has been going on for like 2-3 minutes

So if we're meant to believe that Shadow's quill is what kept Gerald alive, can Shadow basically just grant people immortality at will? Or is there really just no explanation for him living longer than any human should be able to

I'm glad that the scene of Eggman and Gerald doing stuff together in VR didn't go on for that long, because it felt like the scene of them meeting felt so dragged out

For a split second I thought the music was using the leitmotif of Dreams Of An Absolution, but then I realized that its Green Hill

The puppet only has like 15 seconds of screentime but it's still SO unnecessary

Shadow saying "revenge guac" is stupid but it did not make me cringe like some of the other lines have so far

Tom using the hologram tech to disguise as Randall... Not my place to speak so I'm not going to say anything, but I don't think that was a good idea

Pointless extended bit of Jim Carrey doing comedy with himself number 3. And I know there's at least one more after this. Why did they have to focus on him so heavily

YESSSSSS thank you Shadow, we all wanted to see that happen. Keep up the good work

I hate that Wade got to appear at all, but at least his screentime is brief

It sucks that we just get Gerald saying "It's not about what Maria wanted, it's about what they deserve" to convince Shadow to get revenge, because that's the opposite of how he motivated Shadow in SA2, he made it seem like revenge is what Maria wanted

When I first saw the commander trying to wrestle away the gum through a leak, I laughed my ass off. It's so stupid. Also I knew they would be cowards and not actually show her getting shot, but it's still annoying

Maria not actually getting to say her last words to Shadow, on top of him not being made by Gerald, really is a one-two punch of completely destroying his SA2 characterization (and his characterization in general). It's insulting to Maria too, how do you manage to take away agency from a character who's entire narrative purpose is to die for the sake of another character's backstory

Also, now that the plot has moved into space, I can say with even more certainty that there truly was no reason for them to use Tokyo and London instead of San Francisco. The only thing gained from using Tokyo is the Chao cafe, and the only thing gained from using London is about a minute or two of basic pop culture references. I'm pretty sure they only picked them because they're two of the most famous cities in the world, which is dumb

I hate that Shadow's arc is about letting go of anger and not seeking revenge, that's completely different from what his story is in SA2, they're barely comparable even on a surface level. His actual arc is about being unsure of who he is and why he exists, being used as a tool for revenge by Gerald, and eventually breaking free of that programming to discover that he was created to bring hope to humanity

The Eggman vs Gerald stuff is the stupidest shit ever, and it's made even worse by the fact that it keeps interrupting the Sonic and Shadow scenes

I hate to say that when I first saw Gerald's death through a leak, I (involuntary) burst out laughing. It's supremely stupid and I do not like it, but it's just so absurd that it's hard not to react in some way

The moon thing kinda makes me mad tbh. This movie loves to make references to iconic things from SA2 instead of actually adapting them

The finale is pretty cool visually, but conceptually, it's a really big downgrade from the original. It's comprised of a super form battle between Sonic and Shadow, a cartoon slapfight between Eggman and Gerald, Sonic and Shadow easily blasting through a bunch of GUN Hunters, them blocking the laser while it gets steered away with an actual steering wheel, and then Shadow physically pushing the ARK away by himself. SA2 featured everyone except Shadow working together to reach the deepest part of the ARK as it hurtled towards the Earth, Shadow rushing in to fight the Biolizard while Sonic and Knuckles neutralize the core's energy, and then Sonic and Shadow being forced to go super after the Biolizard fuses itself to the colony in order to continue Gerald's plan, ending with them both using Chaos Control together to put it back in place

I was going to write a summary after I finished watching, but honestly, Eggman took the words right out of my mouth when he said "It's been a real drag. Thanks for nothing" and then died in an explosion

[saccharineflesh]

⸻ santiago cabrera, 46, male, him/he ; ] … the photo on the missing poster is of LEANDRO CONTRERAS. they are FOURTY SIX, and have been missing for FIVE YEARS. when the sun rises, they work as PASTOR. rumors in town say they can be CONSERVATIVE and CONSCIENTIOUS. they chose to live in THE CHURCH, and have an uncanny resemblance to Daniel (Lucifer), Phillip Banks (Fresh Prince), Danny Tanner (Full House). can they survive another night ?…⸻ bags under his eyes, uncertain paths, imposter syndrome.

𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 ♱ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 ♱ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ♱ 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓

➷ BASIC;

FULL NAME: leandro contreras AGE: fourty6 BIRTHDATE: apr 9 ZODIAC: aries PLACE OF BIRTH: chicago, il ETHNICITY: chilean GENDER: cis male PRONOUNS: him/he SEXUAL ORIENTATION: straight (as a circle) OCCUPATION: pastor LANGUAGES SPOKEN: english, spanish

➷ PHYSICAL;

HEIGHT: 6'0" WEIGHT: 170 lbs EYES: dark brown HAIR: dark brown BUILD: tone TATTOOS: n/a. PIERCINGS: n/a.

➷ HEADCANONS;

↪ His wife gave birth in Arcadia to his second child Juan Diego around two months after arriving ↪ Sol, Leandro's wife, was beckoned out by one of Them one night and was killed. Her remains were found the next morning outside of the church doors by him ↪ After his wife's death, Leandro began to struggle with his own religion and while he still to this day offers support and prayers, silently his belief is deteriorating ↪ Aside from helping and maintaining the church, Leandro aids with the farm animals ↪ He's always had a fascination with insects ↪ Is an avid fisherman and smokes all fish caught in order to preserve them for longevity

➷ BEFORE;

Leandro was born to an immigrant mother who sailed across the Pacific in order to better herself and her family. Leondra came from a low income family and at the age of sixteen had gained access to an illegal ship on route to the United States. The trip was a dangerous one and there was no guarantee that she, or anyone else for that matter, would make it before being spotted by customs or police but against all odds she successfully made the trip. 

Upon arriving to this foreign land, Leondra’s crew were taken to a house where they could remain as long as they could afford their stay. This of course came with its own challenges, and soon the teenager made her way out onto the street in search of well paying jobs willing to pay under the table. Whether it was cleaning homes, breaking down boxes at bodega’s, and during hard times even selling back bottles and cans gathered from trash and dumpsters. There wasn’t a job Leondra wasn’t willing to do in order to better herself and potentially send money back home to her parents. 

Being illegal in the country meant that she needed to evade police attention whenever possible, but as long as she kept to herself she knew she would be alright. Three years into her new life Leondra started seeing some guy and ended up pregnant. The news was shocking to say the least, but having to raise her kid on her own and with no money proved to be her real struggle. Leandra had barely managed to afford renting a room in someone’s home and keeping food coming in at least once a day, but come his third birthday Leandro’s mother made the decision to leave him at a church’s doorsteps. Confident that they would take care of him. 

Most of Leandro’s early life consisted of going to school, coming home to play in the backyard, and doing it all over again until he aged out of the school system. His foster family didn’t bother taking the children out very much except for church during some holidays and it made sense why as they fostered a good ten to twelve at any given moment. There was never any sense of privacy, so Lea learned to hold in a lot of his emotions and temperament. 

During high school Leandro became more involved with friends and soon began to live life more freely. He had no money to use but he followed around his friends and offered to help out in whatever way he could just so he wouldn’t be stuck at home.

In order to keep up with the kids around his age, Leandro applied to any job hiring a 14-15 year old kid and soon he was picking up trash around a church for a quick weekend buck. It wasn’t fun by any means, but gave him enough money to get by. Throughout his time there he became super close with the pastor’s daughter and the two began secretly dating. Leandro and Sol Maria’s relationship was as tame as it could ever be. They would sit besides one another during service, then run off to pick flowers and study the bible beneath a tree in the yard. He hadn’t been religious until that moment.

It took a good two years before he asked for her father’s blessing and hand in marriage - Leandro was barely seventeen at the time but in that little time they knew each other he had decided he belonged to her. That she was his future. Of course the parents didn’t approve but instead of discouraging and shutting down his approach, her father offered him a plan of action.

The next couple of years, Leandro spent them learning and bettering himself for the church. Welcoming all knowledge new and old so that he could follow in God’s grace and be a faithful follower. During this time a lot changed in Leandro’s life; He graduated high school and attended college, he and Sol became public and moved in together - much to her father’s dismay - and he became a youth pastor at the church. It wasn’t long before he and Sol married with her family’s blessing although it wasn’t as if they left them with much of an option after moving in together. 

They were able to put off having kids for years while focusing on their relationship, their faith, and becoming financially stable. The year they paid off their home their first born Guadalupe, or Lupita as they call her, was born. It came without question that their daughter then became the center of their world.

Four years later they became pregnant once more. A child who they had already planned on naming Juan Diego, but before the child was born - while on a camping trip - Leandro and his family came across a fallen tree on the road.

➷ QUESTIONAIRE;

How did your muse spend their first night in Arcadia, and where?

After hours of driving with no place to go, Leandro and his wife gathered their then five year old daughter Lupita and took shelter in the diner. They didn’t have the first of what was going on, and while others attempted to explain, there was no way that Leandro could simply accept the oddities spewed. His family being in danger was the farthest thing from okay, and while he knew they always had God on their side, Leandro was scared. The night only seemed to bring more devastation to his innocent family. His wife - close to 8 months pregnant - was almost impossible to console. For whatever reason his daughter was holding things together better than the two of them combined. 

Why did your muse choose to live where they do?

After accepting the very bazaar reality around them, Leandro and his wife chose to live in the church so they could provide the town with some form of comfort in light of everything happening. They had spent their entire lives following the bible, and in trying times like these, He was the only one who could provide a shred of peace. Even if the world around them crumbled slowly, day by day. They had each other, and they had their faith, and together they would get through these dark times. 

What was your muse doing when they came across the tree?

Every summer, Leandro takes his family on a round trip around the states. They bought an RV and remodeled it to accommodate extended living to avoid having to spend extra money on hotels. They had been traveling between states, getting ready to visit Niagara Falls, when they stumbled across a tree on the road. Leandro wasn’t sure how it’d cracked in such a way, as the weather hadn’t been too intense, but moving it out of the way had proved to be impossible. So he went around it, and found himself unable to get back on the road. That’s when he came across the diner. 

Has your muse left anything behind that they are desperately trying to return to or escape?

One of the many things that Leandro prayed for was his family. His wife, his daughter, and their unborn son. He had aged out of the foster care system, so while he was devastated to be stuck in a town like this, Leandro had the people who meant everything to him right by his side. Whether that was a blessing or a curse, he wasn’t quite sure yet. They left behind an entire congregation of dedicated worshippers back home. A church he had called home since the age of fourteen, and his wife’s family. 

[imreadydollparts]

Someone had asked me about my personal collection of My Little Ponies, and I don't remember if I ever replied but I just rearranged the G1 section a bit, so it's as good a time as any to show off my small collection.

Tadaaa that's all of them!

I just thrifted 3 of the LOL Surprise 3-in-1 Pop Up Store which I really like to use as doll display risers. I have two complete ones and two incomplete ones, now.

I try to sort my ponies by type/set even though that looks a little chaotic sometimes.

This side is now, from top to bottom:

What I have of the Slumber Party Gift Pack - I'm missing Pink Dreams, and there's a space for her if I ever find her.

Babies, though not sorted by type or set. Just babies. Some are rehaired.

Rainbow Babies though I like those better than the "regular" ones so maybe I should move them up on the shelf so I can see them better. One Windy Wing. Or Summer Wing. I can never remember who is who without looking at my IDed photos.

Loving Families. I do not have the Euro exclusive siblings, only the US release siblings.

Softies which I don't even want and don't know why I have so many. It just kind of happened. I do get attached to things that need more work to be nice again.

The center area holds the ponies I have multiples if not all of from a set. Like TaF, Princess Brush n Grow, Sparkle Ponies, etc. They're not in there in a particularly logical way. They're kind of in there in blobs by set. Some are rehaired.

The lower shelf are ponies that are very different from the rest of the collection, and the only playset I own. I need to add some color to that shelf somehow.

This side, we have all of the ponies that I have only one from the set, ones that aren't particularly special, one full custom that should be with the others

but there is no room, and the lower shelf is all Flat Foot ponies, except Peachy who is an imposter/place holder for Blossom whom I don't have.

I do have a Sweetheart Sisters Sunblossom upstairs in the office with me. She has a special place for a sad reason.

There are also some that I've been working on for a while and haven't completed in order to put in the display.

My wishlist is very small:

FF Cotton Candy is on there because mine is heavily damaged.

Anyway. That's all of them.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

John Blake at CNN:

There’s an image that captures the threat posed by the White Christian nationalist movement — and how it could become even more dangerous over the next four years. Taken during the Jan. 6 insurrection, the photo shows a solitary White man, his head pressed in prayer against a massive wooden cross, facing the domed US Capitol building. An American flag stands like a sentinel on a flagpole beside the Capitol under an ominously gray sky. The photograph depicts a foot soldier in an insurgent religious movement trying to storm the halls of American power. What’s unsettling about the photo four years later is that much of the religious zeal that fed the insurrection is no longer outside the gates of power. Many of that movement’s followers are now on the inside, because their Chosen One, Donald Trump, returns this month to the Oval Office.

This is the scenario Americans could face in Trump’s second term. Under Trump, Christian nationalists will have unprecedented access to the power of the federal government. Trump’s GOP has unified control of Congress. And a conservative supermajority, which has already blurred the line between separation of church and state in a series of decisions favoring Christian interests, controls the US Supreme Court.

Trump has not been shy about what comes next. He ran a presidential campaign that was infused with White Christian Nationalist imagery and rhetoric. He vowed in an October campaign speech to set up a task force to root out “anti-Christian bias” and restore preachers’ power in America while giving access to a group he calls “my beautiful Christians.” “If I get in, you’re going to be using that power at a level that you’ve never used before,” Trump told an annual gathering of National Religious Broadcasters in Tennessee during a campaign stop earlier this year. Trump won the support of about 8 in 10 White evangelical voters in November’s presidential election. Nearly two-thirds of White evangelical Protestants in the US described themselves as sympathizers or adherents to Christian nationalism in a February 2023 survey. Scholars have called White Christian nationalism an “Imposter Christianity” whose adherents use religious language to cloak sexism and hostility to Black people and non-White immigrants in a quest to create a White Christian America. So what might life look like over the next four years for Americans who don’t subscribe to this movement? CNN asked that question of Kristin Kobes Du Mez, one of the nation’s foremost authorities on Christian nationalism. Du Mez is a historian and the author of the New York Times bestseller, “Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation.” Her book has become a go-to source for understanding Christian nationalism. It explains how the movement’s tentacles reach deep into American history and pop culture. To many people, declaring America a Christian nation may seem harmless. And it’s important to distinguish Christian nationalists from patriotic Christians who have a more inclusive view of what America should be. But Du Mez says Christian nationalism is ultimately incompatible with American democracy.

[...]

You once said that Christian nationalism and militant patriarchy go hand in hand. What does that mean?

Christian nationalism is the idea that America is a distinctly Christian nation. But there’s a whole set of descriptors that go along with this that we see over and over again. There’s this idea that we need to restore Christian America. What does that look like? It looks like privileging the quote unquote, traditional family, the patriarchal family structure. They believe that the way that God has designed human flourishing is to have a male patriarch, and then to have a submissive wife, one who submits to her husband’s authority, and one whose primary role is a mother and a homemaker. Any family structure that does not look like that is seen as undermining society. You’ll hear the rhetoric that we need strong Godly men to step up to defend faith, family and nation. And so when you get inside Christian nationalist spaces, there is all kinds of militant rhetoric about manly strength, about Christian men who need to step up and take power, and assert their leadership because that is their God-ordained role.

[...]

What happens though to those White Christian evangelicals who don’t subscribe to Christian nationalism. Where do they go? There are a lot of pressures to get on board with this Christian nationalist agenda. It doesn’t need to be overtly supported, but there’s enormous pressure not to object. A person who works in an evangelical media organization explained it to me this way. The memo is: You don’t have to support Donald Trump and the MAGA agenda — you just can’t speak against it, so you can keep your job. When I heard those words, I thought that exactly describes what I’m hearing from people and what I’m observing. So you can quietly hold onto your beliefs, but if you try to object to something that is part of this agenda, if you try to say, fellow Christians, should we be supporting a man like Trump? — that will get you into trouble. If this movement gets everything it wants, what will this country look like?

There will be no meaningful religious liberty. There will be essentially a two-tier society between the quote unquote, real Americans—those who buy into this, or pretend to — and then the rest of Americans. If you’re a person of no faith or a Muslim or anybody deemed not a true Christian, you will have a place, but you will not have a voice. The laws will be rewritten across the board. Rights as we understand them will cease to exist and instead, we’ll have the framework of biblical law.

They want to erase the teaching of actual history to prop up a mythical understanding of what this country was founded to be to justify their radical transformation of the country. There will be no abortion rights, and there will be limited, if any, access to contraception. There will be harsh anti-immigration laws with exceptions for people who subscribe to this Christian nationalist vision or who are seen to fit within it, religiously, politically and perhaps ethnically. There are potential mitigating factors: infighting or incompetence within Christian nationalist and MAGA circles, the role of the courts, resistance within government agencies and at the local and state levels. And of course, the extent to which various aspects of the Christian nationalist agenda align with Trump’s own priorities and with those of members of his inner circle, like Elon Musk. What do you say to people who say you’re being alarmist and playing into doomsday scenarios? I mean, this isn’t “The Handmaid’s Tale.” I would love to be wrong about this. The reason I’m saying these things is because I have been listening to what they (in this movement) have been saying and I have been reading what they have been writing for years. They have been writing these things and saying these things for decades. For a long time, they were a powerful strand in the broader evangelical world and within the Republican Party. But they were offset by a more secular and pro-business conservatism. What we’ve seen now is that they’ve moved into a dominant position within the Republican Party. The MAGA brand is the Republican Party. These ideas are not new. What is new is that for the first time, they are really in a position to carry out these plans.

Kristin Kobes Du Mez spoke to CNN about how White Christian nationalists seek to remake America in their image during Trump’s 2nd term.