#i CANNOT understand why they did it like this
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dirtyvulture ¡ 2 days ago
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The Maid - Part 2
Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*
Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*
18+ only, read at your own risk
Word count: 4705
Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.
AN: Thank you so much for the response to part 1! And thank you to everyone who was so patient and understanding for this part taking a while to write. I hope you all like it.
*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.
Wanda seems to be in a better mood lately, Natasha notices, probably because the two of you rekindled whatever complicated romance you had going on. And as sad and lonely as it had made Natasha feel, at least Wanda was being less rude to her, and that would always be a win in her book.
The grocery trips and errands she sends Natasha on are less demanding, although Natasha’s unsure if she’s becoming more comfortable or Wanda’s gotten less picky. Wanda still requests Natasha’s help for her weekly meetings, and Natasha cannot understand why someone who is unemployed goes so out of her way to find the most mundane, meaningless things to participate in. But it keeps Natasha paid and busy, and she still gets to see you a few times a week.
“What are you doing this weekend, Natasha?” Wanda asks while the two of them are in the kitchen. Wanda is on her laptop while Natasha stands at the counter, cutting vegetables for dinner.
“Um…” Natasha knows better than to tell Wanda the truth, which is that she’ll be sitting alone in her apartment for the next two days and eating ice cream on her couch. “Some friends invited me to go shopping with them at the mall,” she lies. She doesn’t have friends and she certainly doesn’t have the budget to shop at a mall after all the debt she still owes.
“I’ll be gone all weekend with some girlfriends,” Wanda says, not even acknowledging Natasha’s plans, which makes her wonder why she had even bothered to ask in the first place. “I’m not into wine tasting much, but the girls go nuts for it. I’m just going for the spa at the resort, between you and me.”
Natasha has no idea what to do with this information. But she’s spared from answering when the garage door rumbles open.
Wanda slams her laptop shut. “Oh, Y/N is home early.” She gets up to greet you. Natasha can hear your voices carry through the hall.
“You’re early tonight,” Wanda says. “I was just telling Natasha about my weekend plans to Vermont with the girls–”
“Your weekend plans?” you interrupt. “Since when did you have plans to go to Vermont?” Natasha has never heard you sound genuinely angry before. She stops cutting the carrots to focus on eavesdropping.
“Carol wanted to go for her birthday!” your wife says.
“Wanda,” you say, your voice lowering. “Our anniversary is this weekend. I booked us a stay at the Ritz and got us tickets to see Wicked–”
“Well, just ask for a refund!” Wanda hisses. Natasha is stunned that this is her first response to forgetting about her entire anniversary with you. “And we can celebrate when I get back–”
“‘Get back?’” you repeat. “That’s not the point, Wanda. Why don’t you ask for a refund for your trip–”
“I can’t do that to the girls,” Wanda says. “Carol’s been looking forward to this for months!”
You mumble something that Natasha can’t hear. She feels awful for you. Clearly, you had spent a lot of money and time planning a nice outing, and your wife didn’t seem to care one bit. In fact, she tried to put the blame on you for intruding on her plans. Natasha felt herself shaking with rage for you. You deserved so much better.
The two of you trudge into the kitchen and Natasha hastily goes back to cutting the carrots. Wanda is hanging onto your arm, tiptoeing to whisper into your ear but you shake her off and walk through the kitchen to the staircase. Natasha knows that Wanda is glaring at the back of her head, probably upset that she had overheard, but for once she doesn’t say anything and disappears after you.
The mood is particularly subdued when Natasha serves up roasted salmon with a colorful vegetable medley and mashed potatoes. 
“Thank you, Natasha,” you say as she hands you a loaded plate. 
Wanda doesn’t say anything when Natasha gives her a plate.
While the two of you eat in awkward silence, Natasha cleans up the kitchen, her final task of the day. She grabs her purse and heads towards the door, when she hears footsteps behind her.
It’s you.
“Can I walk you out to your car?” you ask. “I know it’s a safe neighborhood, but I don’t want you walking out in the dark by yourself.”
Natasha is so flattered by your offer she doesn’t stop to consider how Wanda might feel about this.
“Sure, I really appreciate that. Thank you.” She leads the way out of your house.
“Sorry you always have to park around the corner,” you add, maintaining a respectful distance from her on the sidewalk. “I’ve told Wanda the whole neighborhood knows you work for us. But she’s…” you trail off, clearly not wanting to speak ill of your wife.
“I’m sorry she forgot your anniversary,” Natasha blurts out. 
You seem startled that Natasha had been eavesdropping, but quickly recover. “Well, it’s…it’s not the first time she’s done it,” you admit in a soft voice. “I don’t know why I bother trying to do anything special anymore. It’s just another day to her. And it seems like she’d rather spend it with anyone but me.”
“She’s missing out,” Natasha says, surprised by her own confidence. “You’re a wonderful person and you deserve someone who will appreciate the efforts you go to celebrate important milestones like that.” She stops before she can offer herself up.
“Oh. Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.” 
The two of you stop at Natasha’s beat-up Nissan. 
“Thanks for walking me to my car–” she starts.
“Are you busy this weekend?” you ask suddenly, in a rushed whisper as if Wanda is around the corner listening. “If you’re not, would you like to see Wicked with me at the Gershwin Theater? I told Wanda I could probably get a credit with the Ritz, but I don’t want to deal with the hassle of exchanging the tickets, too. You can come over Saturday night and I’ll drive us?”
Natasha is so shocked by your proposal she doesn’t even have the words to agree at first. Growing up, she had loved watching musical movies until the VHS tapes wore out, but she had never had the opportunity to see a live performance. Even now as an adult, she still didn’t have the time nor the budget to see a show. To hear you ask that you wanted her to join you, when you had bought the tickets for you and your wife to enjoy on your anniversary she had forgotten, sounded almost too good to be true.
But if Wanda found out you had taken Natasha instead of her…Natasha shuddered at the thought. Maybe this was stepping over the line of professionalism. Natasha wanted to keep her job (and her head), and as much as the opportunity was a dream come true for her, she didn’t want to take advantage of your kindness or weakness.
“Um, I’m supposed to go shopping at the mall with some friends on Saturday,” Natasha says, cringing at the patheticness of her life. “But really–thank you for inviting me. I’m sure you have friends you’d rather take over your maid.”
“I don’t have any friends,” you say, so deadpan that Natasha almost laughs but quickly turns it into a cough when she realizes you’re being serious. While you seemed more reserved than your wife, Natasha refused to believe you didn’t have a strong social network. You were in charge of your own company and clearly doing well if you lived in this neighborhood and could afford a personal housemaid like her.
“Good evening!” The two of you startle when a cheery voice comes out of nowhere.
“Hello, Mr. Vision,” Natasha says, spotting the eccentric man first as he walks by at a rapid pace.
“Late night walk, Vis?” you call out, and he nods with a wave, pumping his arms faster and milling away. The only thing Natasha knew about Vision was that he lived by himself at the end of the street. He had no wife or kids that she knew of, not even a job as he was constantly seen walking around the neighborhood at odd hours. But he never approached Natasha or made her feel uncomfortable, which was more than she could say for most of the people living here, so she was happy to ignore him.
When Vision moves out of sight, you say, “Well, if your plans happen to change…” You fumble in your pockets awkwardly, pulling out a bent business card and handing it to Natasha. “My cell number is on there. Text me before Saturday if you’re still interested.”  
“Okay.” Natasha doesn’t want to get your hopes (or hers) up, but she still isn’t convinced this is a good idea. “Have a good night, Y/N.”
“Good night, Natasha.”
She loves the way her name sounds coming out of your mouth.
***********************************************************************
Natasha is still unsure she made the right decision to turn down your offer to see Wicked. She even called her only friend, Clint, to ask if she should’ve said yes.
“Well, you’re just seeing a show together. Think of it like a work bonus or something. Bosses give their employees nice stuff like that all the time,” Clint says as Natasha picks at a box of takeout in front of the television. Cooking at home was not her favorite chore after doing it all day for her clients.
“Yes, but it’s just the two of us,” Natasha stresses. “Y/N got the tickets to celebrate an anniversary and Wanda already hates me as it is–”
“Nah, she doesn’t hate you,” Clint says.
“You haven’t met her! You don’t see the way she treats me.”
“Exactly. Maybe this is Y/N’s way of apologizing for her behavior,” Clint says.
“I don’t know…” It was already Friday night. Natasha didn’t have much time now to change her mind if she was going to.
“Be nice to yourself, Nat. Let someone do something for you,” Clint goes on. “You work so hard for these people all the time. And I know how much you’ve always wanted to see a live performance.” Natasha feels tears well up in her eyes. She wishes Clint was here in person so she could give him a hug. “Nothing bad will happen. Just tell Y/N you want to go before someone else takes your spot.”
Natasha takes a steely breath. Clint is right. It wasn’t a date. It just was her nice boss treating her out to a Broadway show. Never mind the fact that you had intended to take your wife initially. Wanda would never have to know, right?
“Okay. Thanks, Clint.”
“Enjoy!”
As soon as she hangs up, Natasha goes into her texts. She already created a contact for you the night you gave her your business card. Her anxiety is through the roof as she types out a message to you, then deletes it and starts over. She gets more and more frustrated trying to find the right words, before she finally throws in the towel and clicks “Send.”
Less than a minute later, you respond.
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Happiness explodes inside of Natasha. She can hardly believe her luck. Not only does she get to see her first Broadway show, but she gets to see it with you, and have dinner on top of it. She darts over to her closet, looking for the nicest dress she owns.
Wanda be damned. Natasha was going to have a great night with you. 
***********************************************************************
“Table for two, please.”
“Did you have a reservation?” the blonde woman at the podium asks.
“No,” you respond.
“Oh, well, I’m so sorry, but we’re all booked out for the evening,” she apologizes. 
Natasha stands behind you meekly. She can’t even pronounce the name of the restaurant and doesn’t know what kind of food they serve, but it’s probably far beyond anything she could ever afford. She’s wearing a dark green dress that almost reaches her ankles and is conservative in protecting her assets, and spent over an hour doing her makeup, and she wonders if strangers will look at the two of you and assume you’re a couple. She wouldn’t go out of her way to correct them.   
“That’s okay. This was a last-minute plan for us,” you explain. “If Tony is working tonight, can you please tell him Y/N stopped by to say hello?”
“Wait, you know Mr. Stark?” the woman pales. “Don’t go anywhere. You said your name is Y/N?”
You smile and nod. The woman steps down from her podium and dashes into the back. 
“I thought you said you didn’t have any friends,” Natasha boldly teases. 
You turn and wink at her. 
“Tony and I went to college together,” you explain, although this implies you shared a friendship of some kind. “And clearly, his business is doing better than mine–”
The woman quickly returns with a short bearded man wearing a gray suit with red-tinted glasses that match his tie. 
“Y/N!” Tony shouts, embracing you in a dramatic hug. “You should’ve told me you were coming tonight! I could’ve put together a private booth in the back–”
“It was last-minute,” you say. “This is Natasha, by the way. She’s a friend.” Natasha is thrilled at the way you associate her with you.
“Hello, Natasha, I’m Tony.” He takes her hand and gently kisses her knuckles. He doesn’t seem surprised you haven’t brought Wanda along instead. “I take it you haven’t been here before, Miss Natasha? You won’t need a menu, I’ll have the chef bring out the best dishes we have tonight.”
“That’s very kind of you,” you say. 
“Follow me! You can have a table in our east wing. Where’s Wanda?” Tony says rapid-fire, turning around and leading them deeper into the restaurant. You step out of the way and motion to let Natasha go first, and she feels your hand graze her back as she walks past you. 
“She’s out with her girlfriends for the weekend,” you answer from behind Natasha. 
“Your anniversary is coming up, right?” Tony asks.
“Yes,” you respond, your voice suddenly tense.
The restaurant is packed, every visible table filled with customers, until they turn around a corner to a quiet, completely empty area.
“Pick any table. I’ll have a waiter come out with some drinks shortly,” Tony says.
“Thanks, Tony.”
“Thank you, Tony,” Natasha echoes, unsure if she likes this special treatment. You pick a table near the corner and pull her chair out for her. As soon as the two of you are seated, a waiter in a vested suit appears with a few bottles of wine, making suggestions and pouring samples into the glasses. Natasha doesn’t have enough knowledge to understand what he’s saying or differentiate the tastes, but she enjoys the experience. It feels strange to have someone serve her, when she’s normally the one waiting on people’s every demand. 
The two of you share several appetizers together. Natasha feels like she’s floating in a dream. You have been nothing but generous and respectful to her, but every time your left hand reaches across the table for the caviar, the wedding ring on your finger taunts her. 
The dinner itself is a four-course affair, including a rich chocolate cake that Natasha devours faster than she can fully enjoy. When the bill arrives (which Tony has already chopped in half), Natasha still asks if she can chip in (despite knowing full well she doesn’t have the money to cover even her portion), but you push her card away and give the waiter your black card.
The theater is three blocks from Tony’s restaurant, so you leave your car in valet parking and ask Natasha if she’s okay walking. She had not planned ahead very well, so she only has a thin cardigan to cover her shoulders. You notice her shivering and offer her your heavy black jacket that completely engulfs her frame. Your scent completely surrounds her now and Natasha swears she won’t wash this dress ever again.
The line into the theater moves quickly and Natasha follows you all the way down to the front, where your seats are perfectly center to the stage. She crawls over a few people, feeling a little smug about getting some of the best seats in the house. You had truly spoiled her tonight and she was never going to forget this. 
She leans over to whisper to you before the show begins. “Thank you for everything tonight. I’ve already had so much fun and the dinner was amazing.”
“You’re very welcome. Thank you for joining me, and thank you for all the hard work you do for my family,” you say and Natasha beams. “Me and Wanda really appreciate it.” Natasha deflates a little at the mention of your wife, but she pushes her out of her mind to focus on her time with you. 
As they wait, Natasha props her arm up on the armrest between you two so she can hold the playbill at a comfortable angle to read. Suddenly, your arm drops heavily on hers and she looks at you in confusion. You’re reading your own playbill and don’t seem to notice that your massive arm is practically crushing hers.
“Um, Y/N?” she prompts, clearing her throat.
“Hmm? Oh!” You quickly move your arm off hers. “I’m so sorry, I thought that was Wanda’s arm,” you explain with a nervous chuckle. Natasha laughs too, although she isn’t sure if she should be happy or worried that she reminds you of your wife. She’d be happy to take Wanda’s place any day, though. 
The musical is amazing, impressive beyond anything Natasha had ever expected. She cries when Elphaba defies gravity, and after the whirlwind of the second act, she is among the first to give a standing ovation. She’s floating on cloud nine as she walks with you out of the theater back to the car.
The drive back to your home is quick at the late hour. Just as you're about to pull into the driveway, you slam hard on the brakes, jolting everyone forward. Vision power walks past the beams of your headlights, only breaking the pump of his arms to wave in thanks.
“What is he doing out so late?” you ask, and Natasha is relieved to know she’s not the only one who thinks his habits are a bit odd.
“No idea,” she mumbles, watching you pull onto the driveway and stop.
“Thank you so much, Y/N,” Natasha says, still giddy with excitement.“This was the best night of my life. I’ve always wanted to see a Broadway show, ever since I was a little girl. I never thought I’d get the chance, even after I moved here–”
“You’re very welcome,” you interrupt, seeming almost shy with the praise.
“I’m sorry Wanda wasn’t able to join you for your own anniversary,” she adds, although she’s not sure why.
You shrug. “Nothing we can do about it now. Besides, I’m glad you were able to join me and had such a fun night. I don’t think this would have been nearly as fun by myself.”
There is a pause and Natasha has to force herself to stop looking at your lips. If she had no self-restraint, it wouldn’t have taken much for her to lean over the center console and kiss you.
“Have a good night, Natasha. Drive home safely,” you say as the two of you get out of the car.
“Thank you again!” Natasha doesn’t even listen to music on her way home, riding out the high of what was easily one of the most memorable nights of her life in over a decade.
***********************************************************************
A few weeks later, Natasha is working a double shift: the first one at Steve’s house, and the second at yours. You’re away at work, as usual, but she knows you’ll be home before she leaves for the day, and she never takes any glimpse of you for granted. Wanda is also back to being demanding and cranky, and Natasha has no idea if you told her about the night the two of you had together. She had felt the silent instruction from you not to blab about her taking Wanda’s place and was happy to keep the memories to herself.
She’s in the front hall, mopping while quietly humming “Defying Gravity” to herself, when Wanda clacks by in high-heels.
“Natasha!” she hisses. “Didn’t I tell you to start in the kitchen? If I slip out here because the floor is wet–”
“So sorry!” Natasha apologizes, hoping that she doesn’t finish her sentence. “I’ll put a fan on.” She rests her mop against the wall and darts off for the $300 Dyson fan in the closet. After pointing it towards the gleaming floor, she pushes her cart into the kitchen and continues mopping. She makes sure to open the window to air out the smell, and notices Steve across the street mowing his lawn. 
She stares at him, wondering if he can see her, and her question is quickly answered when Steve waves to her. She returns his wave with a smile, then goes back to her task before Wanda can complain she isn’t working hard enough. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him back away from his lawn mower and answer his phone; he disappears into his house hurriedly. 
“Natasha! Always make sure you open a window when you mop!” Wanda’s screech comes out of nowhere. “The chemicals you use give me a headache!”
“Oh, but the window is open–” Natasha tries to explain, but Wanda silences her with a wave of her hand.
“I’m on the phone!” she says, pointing to the cell phone held up to her ear. Natasha bites her lip, but holds her tongue. “Sorry, honey, what was that? No, I was talking to the maid,” she says. Natasha perks up despite the way Wanda titles her. You’re clearly on the other line, and maybe you’ll be home sooner than expected.
But Wanda disappears into a guest room (your house had so many of those), and Natasha can no longer hear her conversation. She dutifully continues to mop the floor, careful to fan the mop in a semi-circle pattern so as not to trap herself in a corner. She moves the chairs to the hallway one at a time, cursing their awkward shape that makes them difficult to carry and taking special care not to scrape the feet along the floor. 
Wanda’s shrill voice carries through the house again, this time covering a topic that makes Natasha’s cheeks heat up.
“Oh my God, yes, I’m still thinking about last night,” Wanda says. “When you had my legs behind my head–”
Natasha tries not to picture Wanda folded up like a pretzel while you plow into her. But she can imagine herself in a similar position (she’s not so confident in her own flexibility, but she’d make it work for you). Your hands could probably fit around her whole thighs as you push her legs apart wider, thrusting your hips in long strokes to fit your big dick into her. Natasha is embarrassed to admit that the last time she had masturbated, she had thought of you the whole time.
How much more you’d fill her compared to the flimsy toy she was using. How you would feel throbbing inside her, your body pressed hot and heavy against hers as you beg for her permission to finish. Imagining having you like that, with that kind of control, brought Natasha to the most amazing orgasm of her life. If only you had been there to share it with her. 
“I didn’t know if you’d be able to go another round, but you proved me wrong,” Wanda continues, and Natasha picks up on how breathless she sounds. She wonders if she’s touching herself right now, with Natasha mopping in the kitchen. Somehow, that wouldn’t be shocking to her. “You were still so hard when I put you down my throat.”
A lightning bolt of arousal strikes Natasha’s core. She can’t focus on mopping anymore, staring blankly out the kitchen window, lost in the new filthy fantasy playing in her head, guided by Wanda’s narration. 
Natasha lies between your legs, her lips barely brushing your hips as she takes your cock down her throat. She prays her gag reflex doesn’t protest at the obstruction in her airway, but despite the slight discomfort, she wants to do this all day. Your pants and moans are like music in her ears, urging her on to suck harder and take you deeper.
“Please Nat,” your voice wavers. The muscle fibers in your thighs are visibly tensed and your back arches off the bed when Natasha pushes your hips down, trying to maintain some kind of control over you. But your body seems to have a mind of its own, with only one goal in mind. 
“It’s almost like I can still taste you.”
You poke at the back of her throat and Natasha can feel the hot throbbing of your cock in her mouth. She’s so eager to swallow anything you’ll give her, she’s almost embarrassed in her desperation, but when your hands cup the back of her head, pushing her down so she can fit the last inch down her throat, she knows the two of you are on equal planes of passion.
Your entire body flexes and the anticipation for Natasha is overwhelming. You finally inhale sharply as the first hot spurt lands on her tongue. 
“Being on your knees for me is a good look for you.”
Natasha tips her head back against the wall, her fingers tangling in your hair. One of her legs rests on your shoulder while the other is spread far apart so you can kneel between them, your mouth pressed against her heat. Your tongue swirls around her clit and Natasha fears she won’t be able to stay standing much longer. 
“Y/N,” she pants, clutching your head tighter and rocking her hips forward. “I need you.”
Your fingernails dig harder into her thigh to still her. You look up into her eyes and Natasha thinks she’s going to finish right there. “You have me, baby. I’m all yours.”
“But there’s really only one place you belong.”
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you grunt, almost sending Natasha headfirst into the headboard with every one of your thrusts. “I could stay inside you forever.”
Natasha hums at the praise. She’s holding on the bedsheets for life, spasming and clenching around you, trying to pull you in deeper. You fill her so perfectly, she’s convinced her body was made for yours. 
“Tell me I’m better than her,” Natasha gasps, fighting to delay her own release.
“Fuck Wanda,” you grunt, pulling back on Natasha’s hips at the same time you thrust forward, burying your entire length into her. “I love you, Natasha. You’re the only one I ever want to be with.”
A noisy car engine pulls Natasha out of her head. Her face feels flushed with arousal, and she knows what she’s doing the second she goes home. Your green car suddenly pulls into the driveway but stops. You get out and walk to the street, grabbing one of the trash bins and pulling it towards the house.
“I can’t wait for you to fuck me again,” Wanda says in the background.
The realization crashes down on Natasha’s head like a cold shower. She watches you grab the second bin with both hands, carefully walking backwards with it.
You’re not on the phone and you’re standing 30 feet away from Natasha. If Wanda’s not on the phone with you, then who is she talking to?
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AN: Who do you think Wanda was talking to? 👀
To be continued...(hopefully)
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
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verushkak70 ¡ 3 days ago
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I understand what you're trying to do but in my experience it doesn't work
I've debunked literally hundreds of insane, factually & scientifically wrong crap a friend has been sending me off social media since the FIRST orange asshole campaign
It has not made a difference & I recently realized why (aside from, y'know, tens of thousands of Chinese & Russian social media bots gaming algorithms to inject false narratives into the mainstream to influence elections & democracy in multiple countries...)
It's because facts do not matter to him anymore
This is a belief system very much like religion - it might as well be religion
It is impervious to facts & science
Yet this is someone who I once considered highly intelligent & I still cannot understand how he's fallen for all of this except that, deep down, he must have either a hollow core, or a core of hate, that wants everyone else in the world to be as secretly miserable as he is (which I only know because I've known him for decades - since high school - casual observers would never say "this guy is miserable & self-loathing")
Objectively, on paper, he is intelligent or at least was intelligent & high scoring enough to get into Ivy League universities when we were graduating high school (he did not go to any tho; neither of us could afford such universities; we went to the state university that would take literally anyone, at the time, & from which you had to work at getting kicked out)
This was formerly a pro-choice, pro-porn, pro-drug guy who has drunk the Kool-aid - he's still pro-porn & pro-drug but suddenly in the past 2 years, as "throw it back to the states" became the propaganda on X (his favorite social media, ugh), he started saying it should be thrown back to the states
This from a guy who used to say - in his 20s, 30s, 40s - that abortion should be available on demand at drive thrus (which was hyperbole ofc; obvs you can't get one at an actual drive thru; it was the concept of fast & easy access he was championing)
As these right wing evangelical positions have trended on X, they have come up in his speech the past couple of years (really the past decade, but it accelerated like the speed of light once he moved from FB to the post-Musk Twitter/X)
Because I've known him for so long, I've been able to say, "Huh, you never used to say/believe that over the last 40 years... Why the change, & why now?"
& even that does not get him to realize his opinions are being deliberately shaped by propaganda
He will deny it or say "well I always kind of thought that way" & when I say "dude, you've never been shy of sharing your opinions, whether people wanted to hear them or not, especially if not! so why haven't you mentioned this change of opinion until after X became your main source of 'news'?"
That gets evasions & subject changes because the idea that he didn't come up with these ideas on his own is unacceptable
He will share literally fake news from X & when I ask, "OK, I get that you don't trust mainstream media, with good reason; or the government, with good reason; or the medical/scientific establishment, not without good reason; but you'll just believe anything some clown you don't know on the Internet - who could be anywhere in the world despite his "US Navy Vet" trucker hat - says, without question?"
& his response is always subject changes & attacks on mainstream media/government/politicians/parties but never an answer to the actual question because there is no rational explanation & he knows it
& if I call him on the subject changes, he just ratchets up the subject changes & attack rhetoric as if I'm one of those easily offended wilting liberal flowers he can steamroll, which I'm not & never have been, so it's interesting (if sad) that he thinks what works on other people will work on me
Or maybe he just doubles down because there IS no rational explanation, idk
This is seriously depressing me because this guy was my BFF for like the first 30 of our 40 year friendship - my older sisters would call him "our adopted little brother" - & I don't recognize him anymore
The only reason I continue to talk to him, really, is my oldest sister, who passed away a year ago in February, & was a big activist & organizer/coordinator of various (large) protests here, said "don't give up on him, don't fight or argue - just keep listening & questioning" because "he's a good egg"
& honestly he is, underneath all the sourball curmudgeon thorny exterior - the man has never not been there when I needed him & lots & lots of times when I didn't, just for fun
But this is becoming exhausting & I'm stressed out from not literally screaming "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!? WHERE IS MY FRIEND, YOU CRAZY POD PERSON WHO TOOK HIS PLACE??"
I'm sorry - I'm just venting, I guess
But please tell me how someone can maintain the cognitive dissonance of a high index of suspicion for the mainstream media, the government, & medicine/science, but not some Joe Blow clown on the Internet - as if somehow that guy (who's probably actually a Chinese or Russian bot) is telling the gospel truth & has a hidden mainline to the secrets of the universe
Because I can't understand it
I can understand it in people who've not had the privilege of university education (my friend has)
or international travel (my friend has, multiple times, with me & others)
or who never left the neighborhood or town where they grew up (my friend did as soon as he could)
I cannot understand it in my formerly skeptical & always shrewd friend
I honestly do not get it 😞
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So many people do not understand the relationship between climate change and cold weather.
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demonic0angel ¡ 2 days ago
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"Jason, stay out of this."
"Seeing as thats my Wolf you're going to interrogate. Fuck no."
(When I'm stressed and anxious and a kind anon sends me an ask about Anger Management with Jason being protective over his assistant 😭🫶 y'all know me so well)
Part 2
Batman froze. "What?"
Red Hood pushed past him in his moment of distraction and entered the interrogation room, where Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter were sitting across from Wolf. They all looked at him when he entered, eyes wide at the sight of the gun in his hands.
He pointed it at Wolf.
"Hands up," he said. She raised her hands calmly, the chain that linked her to the table clacking before he shot it off and strode over to pull her to her feet.
Red Hood handed her the gun and used his left arm to lift her into his embrace, holding her up into the air as he took out his other gun and held it securely. Wolf wrapped an arm around his neck and used the other to hold the pistol, leaning on him with an exhausted sigh.
Her weariness made him even angrier and he ignored the protests as he marched past all of them, even Batman.
"What is the meaning of this—!"
"You cannot just—!"
Batman interrupted and said sternly, "Hood. She is a criminal who murdered 2 people. Why are you—"
Red Hood tightened his hold on Wolf. She curled around his head further, trusting him completely. His fury waned underneath her faith and he was calm when he responded, "She's mine."
Batman froze completely, mouth slightly open. Underneath the helmet, Red Hood flushed before correcting himself, "She's one of mine and she was protecting me. Those two that she killed had attempted to attack a little girl to threaten me into backing down."
Wonder Woman opened her mouth. Surprisingly, it was Martian Manhunter who said, "We understand. We do not like it, but we realize that this is a Gotham issue... right? We shall let you go, but none of us want to see this again."
Red Hood pocketed his gun, reassured as he then used his free hand to rub Wolf's leg comfortingly. He nodded once and then turned to leave, leaving the three Justice League members staring at his back.
"Thank you for saving me," Wolf said quietly, their helmets knocking together in a soft clinking noise. She finally put down the extra pistol and wrapped both of her arms around him, sighing as she relaxed into his carried embrace.
Red Hood blushed and then said curtly, "It's whatever. Where would I even find another assistant if you're gone?"
She giggled and he held her tightly. Yes, she was safe and all was well now.
From where they still lingered, watching the intimate relationship between the Red Hood and another woman, Batman slowly turned to Martian Manhunter.
"... why did you let them go?"
"Red Hood is one of yours, correct?" Martian Manhunter asked. Batman nodded slowly.
"I felt as though neither of you would appreciate it if we hurt someone that Red Hood loved," he said with a casual shrug. Then with a swish of his cape, he walked off.
Leaving Batman floundering and shocked once more. Wonder Woman brought a hand to her mouth, hiding a delighted grin.
"Oh my. I suppose you'll have to welcome a daughter-in-law soon?"
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canine-witch ¡ 1 day ago
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What Is The Gossip About You?
Recently, I had a vision of a room full of beautiful people covered in glitter, whispering names under their breath. Their intentions seemed to be both good and bad. With Valentine's Day coming up in popular culture, there may be a lot of emphasis on how you appear and act to others, both malicious and with pure intentions.
In this reading, I'd like to tap into some of that energy, and tell you what people may be saying when you're not in the room. Drink some water, pick a pile, and feel free to reject what does not resonate.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
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。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
Group One ~ The Fishtank
People are gossiping about you right now because you didn't take the bait. There may be a situation going on right now with someone's family that has been absolutely devastating for everyone involved, except for you. There have been malicious players who wanted you to get angry about the situation, but you were too busy leveling up. There are whispers that you don't care, that you wanted this to happen, that you're reveling in the chaos unfolding. In reality, you're focused on yourself, and people in this situation may have already driven you away. Don't worry about the gossip, they're going to have restless nights, while you're sleeping peacefully. You are guilt free and focused on yourself, exactly where your divine guardians want you to be. Continue to heal, blessed one, they cannot hurt you.
Group Two ~ The Moon
People are gossiping about you because your hard work and investments in yourself are paying off. There seem to be many beautiful or silver spoon type players who think you have turned to underhanded methods or stealing favoritism to get ahead of them. In reality, these people do not or cannot understand you have everything you have because of dedication to your job, schooling, or craft, and it's bringing money and opportunity towards you. They are whispering you may have become romantically involved with someone to get your opportunity, or a male figure in your life has given you this without hard work. This is a test for them to take their lives into their own hands, and understand the importance of personal accomplishment. The gossip may be slowing things down, but not stopping the blessings. You have money, wealth, security coming in, and people only favor you because you invested your time and energy, and stand out amongst the crowds. Fear not blessed one, this is only a temporary struggle.
Group Three ~ The Wings
People are gossiping about you because you have gone ghost on them. You have faced some kind of life shattering sorrow, or multiple, that is currently driving you into solitude to rest and heal. Some people are asking about you because they're worried. Many think this isn't like you, and you may have been private about your struggles. They are trying to learn why. Others did not like your light, and are reveling in your absence. Making crazy theories about what happened to you, or they may think you deserve this sorrow. Don't be scared, and rest. Your comeback will be explosive, redeeming, and silence all gossip. Take time now, to let yourself heal. Don't hesitate to get quiet. Speak to those you trust and explain, and come back a changed person after this period of hibernation. Rest well, blessed one.
Group Four ~ The Subway
People are gossiping about you because you rejected a person of high status and they are now spreading lies about you. This person likes to keep a mask on, and pretend to be a virtous person, when in reality they have backstabbed and betrayed their way to the top. You stayed true to yourself and your own needs, and rejected their advances, so now they're salty. They're spreading rumors and lies, and many are feeding into it, because they are decieved. They don't understand why you didn't take the offer, and secretly think this person was out of your league or above your qualifications. You may have heard these rumors, or you may have not. The spirit of the cards is advising you combat lies with truth, and make your story public. use discernment if this is the correct path, or the path you wish to take, but be careful who you share your story with in private. There are many players in this gossiper's life. Here, an enemy of your enemy may not be your friend, they may take your story and use it to their own advantage. Believe in yourself and stay safe, blessed one.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
There was a lot of negative energy in this one, and perhaps some of you need clarification. I will be doing free personalized readings upon request on the 23 of January, 2025. You can inquire through askbox on anon or private messages, but know that it is easier to connect with your energy off of anon.
Feel free to send a message as called, and I will get back to you once I am rested and my deck is cleansed.
Blessed be, seekers. Believe in your own power and never settle for less. Praying for your success in all things, always.
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bitchface24-7 ¡ 2 days ago
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Okay, I NEED a part two of Succubus!! I’m not joking when I say I have a black widow on my lower abdomen bellow my belly button hanging from a web thats under my boobs and torso. I CANNOT explain how much I loved reading that Viktor fic!! Would love to read about his reaction to some more of readers tattoos!
If you need tattoo inspiration I got some good ones!!! 😘🤭
SUCCUBUS PT2 - VIKTOR X READER
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synopsis: Viktor took you up on seeing your other tattoos. He didn't want to assume anything would happen, but as more and more of your clothes were stripped; Viktor knew his assumptions were right.
warnings: more tattoos!! piercings as well (ears and nipples (like me!) ), flirting, teasing, dirty talk, thigh grinding, overstimulation, marking, Grammarly as my beta.
genre: m/f or m/m
p.s. My man deserves to have his world rocked by an undeniable baddie (i.e. You) hope Viktor survives this LMAO
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Viktor honestly isn't sure how his day completely derailed itself. He just needed help soldering some wires on his prototype. Then you casually walk in in your casual outfit and a sider tattoo on display. right on your lower abdomen.
He was distracted the whole time and you took advantage of it. He can completely understand where you got your nickname from. You truly are a black widow.
He's dumbfounded as you usher him into your apartment. He glances around and lightly smiles, it's so you. The furniture, the decorations, the aesthetic. It screams you, and Viktor adores it.
"Take a seat on the couch. Do you want a drink at all? Water? Juice? Anything?" You casually state as you lock the apartment door, taking your shoes off. Viktor plops a seat, putting his cane off to the side. He gets comfortable, "No, I'm okay. Thank you. I'm more interested in your other tattoos."
You smirk at the man, "You only want a free strip show, huh?"
"Well, you did offer it."
A chuckle escapes your soft lips at that, "You're not wrong." With that, you roll your sleeves up, showing off the tattoo on your shoulder, it just casually says 'Made in Hell.' Viktor quirks an eyebrow and you giggle, "I was young, shut up."
Then your shirt goes, and Viktor's eyes wonder your torso. There's a snake coiling around your collar bone on each side, there's a gun, more snakes, a whole bouquet of flowers on your ribs, the dreaded spider tattoo, and--
"Your nipples are pierced." Viktor states, stunned. You, his kind-spirited, happy-go-lucky, genius friend... have your nipples pierced.
"Yup."
"...Why?"
You shrug casually, "I have eight piercing in total on my ears, four on each side, I love piercings. My nipples... I got done since I was a bit insecure how my chest looks. The piercings gave me a massive boost of confidence, even if nobody sees them."
Viktor is incredulous, "Nobodies ever seen them?"
"Well... my friends that came with me to get our piercings done saw them, and a few other friends; they were all women. You're the first man."
A sharp inhale is heard throughout the apartment. He's the first man. The first.
No one can ever take that from him.
You turn around and Viktor sees the phases of the moon trailing down your back, "That one I understand. You've always loved the moon, but why your back? You'll never get to see it?"
A smirk is all the pretty man gets, "So when I'm on my hands and knees the person behind me has a pretty view." Viktor almost chokes at your tease. He knows just what to say to get you back, "You are already a pretty view. No matter the position."
You feel your face heat up as you shimmy out of your pants, Viktor withholds a groan as you bend over and your ass is pushed out. You kick your pants to the side and all that's keeping you somewhat modest is your underwear. Viktor sees you have tattoos on your legs but he can barely focus on them, the tramp stamp with "Est. XXXX" with your birth year makes Viktor want to wheeze.
Your hands raise from your sides before plopping back down to hit your thighs, "That's all of them."
“Can I get a closer look?”
A light exhale of breath and a nod is all the man gets. He ushers you to come closer with a small twitch of a finger. You follow his direction without hesitation.
You sit on his lap and he hums in appreciation. His golden eyes and massive pupils wonder around your body. His hands join the appreciation. His hands harshly grip your hips and you moan out in pain and pleasure. A hand whips up to cover your mouth and Viktor’s tisk’s at you.
“No no. That won’t do. Let me hear you.”
You whine at his tone, and slowly lower your hand. Viktor repositions you so that you’re straddling his strong leg. His hands remain on your hips.
He jolts his leg up and you gasp in shock. His nicely shaped thigh grazing your sex wonderfully. A zing of pleasure shoots down your back and into your crotch.
Fuck.
“Is this okay?” Viktor asks, a whiny yes is your reply. Viktor’s eyes darken and he kisses you, before dragging his lips down to your throat and sucking a hickey necklace there.
His hands force your hips to move, so you grind against his thigh. You can’t help but moan at the pleasure you’re feeling, it’s especially amplified as Viktor sucks on one of your pierced nipples; the piercing amplifying your sensitivity.
“You’re so sensitive. So needy. Are you always this needy or is it just with me?”
“You! Just you. Viktor please…”
“Please what? Please suck my nipples more? Please rub my crotch more? Please make me cum? Please fuck me? What do you want, you need to tell me more than just please.”
A loud whine escapes you as you rut your hips harder against the long leg beneath you. Your knee nudging against his hard cock.
“Please make me cum! Please mark me up some more, my chest, my nipples. Please bruise my hips with your hands. Please make me yours.”
Viktor growls and does what you’ve begged. Your hips quickly grinding against his thigh, your knee effectively rubbing against his cock. He puts more and more hickeys on you, your hips becoming more bruised with his unrelenting force.
A loud whiny moan escapes you as you cum against his leg, the crotch of your underwear becoming soaked with your arousal.
Viktor doesn’t let you stop though. He makes sure your hips keep moving, not allowing you to calm down. The pleasure gains a bit of pain and you can’t help but cry out as he continues to suck away bruises onto you.
He groans as he cums in his pants, his face, his voice, his sounds. He’s so attractive you can’t help but cum again, it hurts but fuck it feels so good. You’re panting desperately as Viktor unlatched from your skin and hips, you lean your head into his shoulder as you essentially just lay on him.
He’s panting too. His face is flushed, his eyes are closed, and his head is leaned back. You sluggishly suck a dark hickey into the side of his neck, too high for his collar to cover.
He’s just as much yours as you’re his.
“I wasn’t expecting this.” Viktor states as he looks down at you, you smile lightly at him, “I was.”
“I know.”
“You’re not mad?”
Viktor chuckles, “How could I be mad about that? You want me, desire me, and you went out of your way to get it. I was too slow to make the first move.”
You raise from lying on Viktor and sit up, looking at him in shock, “First move?”
“I’m not blind, and I’m not stupid. Neither are you. I’ve wanted you for a while, I just didn’t know how to start.”
“We’ll… you’re welcome.”
“Yes, thank you darling.”
You look down and Viktor and softly kiss his lips before you gasp, “Oh my god, did you cum?”
He just chuckles at you, “Yes my dear. I did. It’s so cute you’re worried that I didn’t.”
“Well you made me cum twice. It wouldn’t have been fair if you didn’t even cum once.”
Viktor’s head falls back to the head of the couch and slaps your thigh, a small gasp is what he gets in return, “I’d like that drink now though.”
You jolt up off his lap, “What do you want?” Viktor’s eyes open lightly and glance and you, pierced and tattoo glory all for him to see, “Water for now would be nice.”
A smile is what he gets and you casually turn and walk to your kitchen, Viktor appreciates your walk, your ass, and the moon phase tattoo trailing down your spine.
Yeah… he wasn’t expecting this. But he’ll never complain on how he got here.
He’s a very lucky man indeed.
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*debby ryan hair tuck* y’all fuck with this? As one user said, my libido completely revolves around this man (a call out I didn’t need but it’s true) EDIT: BRO IT WAS A CALL OUT *I* MADE IN ANOTHER FIC I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THAT 😭😭 I THOUGHT YALL CLOCKED ME NAH I CLOCKED US 😩💀
Tattoos I tried to describe LOL
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thekaratcake-blog ¡ 9 hours ago
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No you absolute weirdo
IT'S CALLED SCIENCE
We went and we did tests, we checked shit out, we went "woah look at that there are physiologicla differences in the brains of trans people, these are likely present from birth and don't seem to change"
Which tells us that gender identity is a fundemental part of one's self, we've know that for a while
Shit like "sherlockgender" is definitionally something you cannot be born with and would have to assign yourself, same with suicidegender, meaning it is simply definitely not the same as something like being a trans woman
Idk why this is so hard to understand
Things different, no same
Work in different way
I don't give a shit who does and doesn't respect me, I don't give a shit what other people think, I give a shit what the facts are and that we don't try to distort them
And I give a shit that we don't start to devalue or invalidate labels and identities that are incredibly important and significant
Don't be silly, queerphobia isn't a word that just means "I disagree with this person on these things"
And I especially couldn't care less about politics
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i love xenogenders because they reveal how arbitrary gender symbolism already is.
we can say ‘my gender is space, cool rocks, and curiosity.’ 👽
is that any more strange than saying, ‘femininity is empathy, flowers, and the color pink’? 🌸
gender is what we make of it, whether practical, picturesque, poetry or prose <3 💖
[ID: the above text in a facebook post by MC Perrin, along with a symbol-less version of the xenogender flag: stripes in dark pink, salmon, pale orange, pale yellow, blue, lavender, and magenta. /end ID]
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tomato-soup-whore ¡ 2 days ago
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why, pray tell WHY must these fucking writers not commit to the best ships ever. the makers of arcane clearly have no qualms about portraying gay people in an unrestricted manner, so WHY didnt they commit to jayvik. im genuinely so puzzled at this point.
its one thing when you have a ship like destiel that was accidentally written into homosexuality by a homophobic network, i at least understand how that ship came to be and why it never went fully canon. but JAYVIK??? for a ship with so much fucking evidence and chemistry and content to work with, made by clearly progressive writers, i have no goddamn idea why they wouldnt just make it CANON at this point. i have confidence that the writers could have made a well written love triangle between mel and jayce and viktor, truly. i am by no means a mel hater, love that queen, but him and viktor just have so much more fucking chemistry.
as we know at this point, the animators did a great job making all the characters super expressive and detailed. that being said, there are some scenes that i cannot imagine were made while thinking viktor and jayce had completely platonic feelings for each other.
i cant find the gif rn, but that moment in episode 3 of season 1 when mel finds them trying to break into heimerdingers lab and after she walks away jayce looks all happy and viktor looks at him and back at mel and then looks like he wants to OFF HIMSELF?? idk man personally thats not how i would look if someone had just very kindly covered for me doing illegal shit. that was gay and there was no other reason for him to do that. so WHYYYYYY animate it like that in the first place?
tl;dr: im just genuinely confused as to why the writers wouldnt make jayvik canon when they have all the reason and resources to
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pali-and-proud ¡ 2 days ago
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Finale Thoughts
This is a very special thank you to all the Fast Passers. Y'all did amazing, truly, because I actively read anything and everything without any attempt to shield my eyes from spoilers and I still knew nothing. This post is dedicated to you guys.
Alright guys. You know the drill. Get the hot coco and strap in.
Lets start with Deacon:
Deacon acknowledging that Chase is more likely to interact well with Buddy is actually so good to see. It's so nice to see Deacon prioritize Prunella's safety and to be more comfortable with being put in "lesser" positions, like babysitting! (Think back to sick! Chase, and look at how far Deacon's grown)
Deacon and Prunella's talk: Prunella calling out Deacon for always talking about being great instead of just being great. That's so good, genuinely--Prunella shrugging and being self-confident and Deacon finally really hearing it. He needs to just be what he wants.
Deacon's relationship with horses symbolizing his frustrations with his inability to control his life was NOT something I expected and I openly applauded. That's brilliant.
Don't be mistaken: Deacon sacrificed himself. He knew the risks of making the horse play bridge. He watched the horse fall victim to the spread of the pages. The horse was still neighing when it's legs started to turn--Deacon could have yelled, but he didn't, because he was too focused trying to make sure that Chase and Prunella, at least, could escape.
The speech Buddy gave him, which I will reference so many times, about there being a time to be the hero and a time to be the helper, is SO applicable. Deacon "is happy to help." He isn't trying to be the hero, and he isn't trying for glory, and he just wants his cousin and his friend-ish to be safe. And it's specifically when he's not trying to be the hero that he ends up being the hero, by taking control of the reigns and getting Prunella to Chase and risking his life. He follows Bronze and Prunella's advice, and listens to the speech, and listens to himself: He stops asking for permission. He steps up. He becomes the hero.
Cannot wait to see Deacon's reaction when Chase undoubtedly tells him how they escaped. I can't decide if Chase is immediately going to say "Buddy and I kissed" or if he's going to say "I figured out an escape and stop asking questions" but no matter what, Deacon's going to be squinting at his cousin and groaning.
ALSO can't wait to see how this arc impacts his relationship with his parents. Like I'm so excited. A Deacon that's more confident being able to step forward and say "No, I don't want to devote my life to something I'll actively hate. That's ridiculous." might be the end of me ngl, I love him.
Prunella!
Prunella my love
Prunella my LOVE
She has this confidence that we only see falter twice: when she struggles with the other kids, and right now. And in both situations, she didn't know what to do, and she was in over her head, and she reminded us that she's just a KID
Her arc has been the exact opposite of Deacon's, and it's so cool to watch them both experience opposite lessons in the same arc. Deacon learning how to step forward and lead while Prunella learns how to step back and follow.
Prunella hearing, constantly, about how dangerous the books are and finally SEEING the books as dangerous. Prunella finally understanding why Deacon was so strict about the books she could travel in, because most of their worst-case scenarios came true in a single swoop.
Prunella also has not met Buddy yet. She saw him, described him as the mean guy, and then perished. Truly an icon.
I am so convinced that Prunella and Buddy would be friends. Even if it starts rocky, I think they both enjoy humbling the Hollow boys too much to not grow to like the other's presence. I can't believe I have to wait for season 2 to get confirmation of this but I am going to be so smug when I am correct
Chase:
CHASE
CHASE EVERETT HOLLOW i have never in my life ever loved a character like I love Chase. I talk so much about Buddy but that is me being a wing-woman, Chase my love Chase, I love him so much
Fun fact I didn't even like Buddy until the first Cinderella story. I was so convinced I wouldn't like him, but I resigned myself to cheering for Stargoth anyway (I was part of the Canvas/Discover Squad, i had a LOT of hiss hiss Buddy) solely because if Buddy made Chase happy then sure I'll accept it, and now i adore Buddy, Punko is just that good
Every single moment of Chase in this arc stole my attention. every single panel. God I could do a dive longer and deeper than my Buddy analysis but exclusively on Chase during the finale arc. i could do it exclusively on Chase during the finale. I could do it on any singular panel.
Chase being guilty about lying to Buddy alone was heart-wrenching, but Chase literally only got more and more heartbreaking. Him constantly trying to help everyone--the keys, for example, with a resort for them to enjoy--only for things to go wrong--the resort, for example, drowning the book. He just wants to HELP
Buddy was 100% correct in calling out Chase for pinning the blame on Deacon, but what he didn't realize is Chase wasn't trying to do that. Chase truly felt terrible, and he truly wanted to apologize, and him bringing up Deacon was him being honest and factual because he did argue with Deacon about it, but he did end up listening to Deacon. And Buddy gets more frustrated because Chase is misunderstanding the problem--it isn't Chase hiding Prunella, it's Chase refusing to trust Buddy
And when you think about it. Chase absolutely has no reason to. Chase doesn't even know his name WHICH I WILL TALK ABOUT LATER bc kdjfherigh but! In Chase's eyes, yeah why would he. He's literally desperate to have Buddy prove that hes legit and good and kind and Buddy keeps shoving that away (Buddy saving Deacon's life and then pointedly not mentioning that, for example).
It's also the fact that Chase is trying so hard to stay optimistic despite such extreme levels of guilt. It's the fact that he stays clutching to that persona of optimism even after seeing paper! Deacon and Prunella, and it's only when he's staring at a bleeding Buddy that the full situation sinks in
Chase finally breaking. Oh my God you dont know how long I was waiting to see Chase splinter apart. This is a kid trying to do the impossible, and every single time something goes wrong, he feels like it's his fault. The book got destroyed? Buddy got betrayed? Admitting that he doesn't trust Buddy? Getting way less narratonin than Deacon or Prunella? He blames himself for all of it, first and foremost, and it's finally on full display
Chase even trying to send Buddy away? Pushing and pushing because he is so desperate to save someone, anyone, even though that's literally a death sentence for him. And he doesn't hesitate, either--it's practically instinct, even though Chase would never agree to leave if the roles had been reversed.
And like...augh Buddy hugging Chase, and Chase hugging him back? That was painful enough, but you add in Chase admitting that he doesn't want Buddy to leave?
This is not the post for me to point at Chase and accuse him of abandonment issues, but know that I am pointing at Chase and I am accusing him of abandonment issues. I am looking at him feeling hurt that Deacon left him in the Toffee arc, I am looking at him constantly repeating that he's not going anywhere, I am looking at him running to apologize to Buddy after spending so much time bitter about Buddy avoiding him, I am looking at his avoidance of talking about his mom in situations where "My mom is dying and this is important to me" would be really helpful, and I am thinking accusations
But anyway
Chase and his abandonment issues: literally all he wants is for someone to stay, safely and securely. His mom, Deacon, Silver, Buddy, even his dance partner. He's always at risk of losing someone, and he's about to lose everything, and all he can do is admit that he just wants Buddy to stay, because he's scared
Chase you are my sun you are my stars you are my whole solar system I will give you the world
Also, I absolutely knew the repeated comments about Chase being an idiot would get to him. Chase is SMART, guys. He's perceptive. He knows when he messes up, and he tries to look past the mistake and into how to rectify it, but that doesn't mean he isn't aware that he did something wrong. And people (Buddy) kept snapping that he was stupid, or an idiot, or ridiculous, bc Chase would make a mistake (or stick by a decision), and he would NOTICE that people thought it was ridiculous. He just didn't care, because he was either sticking with it, or trying to fix it.
And he DOES. He notices the words in the sky, realizes the solution, figures out the entire thread behind the stories (they want to be enjoyable and they want to have a good ending), and explains it all to Buddy. Chase figured it out, because he's so much smarter than everyone assumes.
Anyway Buddy hugging Chase and telling him he can stay a while longer (this is a scene burned into my heart) (more on that later) and telling him he's not stupid and that he's trying his best is SO important. This might be the first time in the entire story that someone finally sees Chase. Someone finally prioritizing Chase and putting Chase's wellbeing first and telling Chase yeah sure maybe you messed up but you're doing the impossible every single day and you're TRYING.
And for it to be Buddy? Like ignore the romance entirely--if someone who always insults you and is notoriously difficult to please tells you "No, you're not stupid. You're trying your best" while hugging you? thats the most sincere thing in the world. that's tears immediately.
Chase suggesting kissing is also askdjns because (again, ignore the romance part of it)--he always skips the kissing scenes. We know thats because he wanted to save his first kiss, and he's the one who offered. Yeah, okay, sure, it was life or death, but Chase didn't hesitate, and didn't weigh his options, and didn't even consider saying "a kiss on the forehead would probably suffice." guy went straight for "i need the mouth to mouth"
the grin. The bright eyes. the pressing fingers to his lips. He's so happy, so genuinely happy.
I truly, truly, TRULY cannot wait to see what this means for our idiots. I can't wait for someone to try to have a conversation and for someone else to not want a conversation, or for them to be so awkward with each other, or for Deacon to want to skin them both, or for WHATEVER turn this takes. And im SO happy for Chase.
Buddy:
I wrote this whole thing and it just deleted. i am furious
NOX
NOX I LOVE THAT NAME NOX NOX NOX
Punko i cant believe you were worried we wouldnt like it. nox nox nox nox nox i love that
okay first: the two theories for key Nox, as they are rn, are 1) that Nox has always been the villain key, or 2) that Nox was tricked/manipulated/experimented into becoming the villain key.
1) If he'd always been the villain key, it makes sense why he never told Chase his name. Chase would have immediately told Silver and company, who would have had to stare at Chase and ask them if he had a crush on their brother
1) if he'd always been the villain key, his distrust of Chase could be explained by him distrusting all humans. This would follow course with him also being frustrated by Deacon, which yes was partly because of jealousy but also partly because Deacon was a new key holder.
1) ALSO of course he was a nightmare about Chase with the key--he had no reason to believe Chase would treat the keys well. it's also possible that he knew Silver had a crack, and thats why he helped Chase in the first cinderella book--so that Chase could meet Silver.
2) if he BECAME the villain key, it makes sense why he never asked Chase details about his key. Why he never asked about Silver or Bronze, or if they were okay, or how they were settling, despite routinely trying to get details about other factors of Chase's life. He assumes Chase is selfish, true, but he doesn't ever accuse Chase of being cruel with them.
2) if he BECAME the villain key, the line of "Don't you want to be human again" holds a lot of power. Yes, it's possible that the keys were once people and Nox wants to go back to that, but its been CENTURIES.
2) if he was always the villain key, the line of "Don't you want to be human again" would be applicable to all the keys, bc it would assume they were all human once (obligatory Keys are People Too mention, it's an amazing ao3 fic by incomple shoo go read it). Silver, Bronze, AND Goldie never mentioned that, and Punko likely would have foreshadowed it earlier.
2) if he BECAME the villain key, it makes sense why he wasn't included in the dream Silver had! Where she dreamt about her family!
2) if he BECAME the villain key, his constant reference of Silver as "the key" or as "it" also makes sense. Earlier, like episode three or so, he mentions needing to get Silver back before the old man returns. It's Silver specifically, without mentioning trying to track down anyone else.
2) if he BECAME the villain key, his name being objectively different from the other keys makes sense. Silver, Bronze, and Goldie were all named after the metal they were made from! Violet is purple! Yes, Nox means night, and yes, Nox has a moon on his back, but if Goldie isn't called Sunny, then I would argue Nox's name should count as way more subtle than everyone else's.
anyway theres a lot of points on either aspect
I could do into the character growth of Buddy, but I'm actually going to focus on the hug. Not the kiss, even though it's nice to see the fixation on Chase's hair stays strong, but Buddy immediately recognizing a hug is needed and immediately giving him one.
Buddy love language is touch, or something
Chase says "I think we need to kiss" and there's not a single arguement from Nox's lips. He literally stares at the sky, turns slowly, and goes "Not a problem"
actually the whole "I've never been the hero. Not even in my own story" goes so strong when you remember the speech he gave Deacon about needing to act as the hero, the helper, and whatever other role when need be. Nox was given the chance to be the hero, and he took it. "I'd like to be your hero" isn't just a romantic one-liner to preface a kiss--it's Nox genuinely saying that he wants the happy ending that Chase always skips. And Chase, this time, doesn't skip it.
Nox, returning back to his space with Violet, immediately says he doesn't think he can keep doing this. But he wants to be a human, more than ever, which implies that "keep doing this" isn't just travelling into the stories, but doing something additional. Something that, we can infer, is hurting Chase.
i am wrapping this up its snowing outside and i cant feel my fingers, how do you snow people do this
if you read all of this! grab a treat <3 hope you enjoyed and love you all
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cherrysweets-world ¡ 5 hours ago
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Eyes of the Gods V
series masterlist - part IV
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Pairing: Caracalla x fem!Reader x Geta
Summary: The Emperors are not subtle with their interest in you and others have begun to notice
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, eventual dub-con, power imbalances, mentions of previous domestic abuse, controlling behaviour, forced proximity, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy realtionships, unedited
Word Count: 3.5k
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Sleep would not come. You tossed and turned for several hours before giving in and re-lighting the candle. Holding your fingers in the warmth of the flame, you began to contemplate your life.
The candlelight flickered and made you feel like the walls were closing in. In some aspects they already had. The walls had closed in without you even knowing it, so distracted by your own wariness. Now you were here, alone, and in reach of the emperors who had put you here.
How had you been so blind? Your own lack of self worth had made you stupid, disbelieving that the Emperors could have such interest in you. You had floated through those first two days, thinking that at any moment they would drop you, bored, like a forgotten toy. To your knowledge that was what usually happened! You had even see it; limping concubines and abandoned slaves. Instead, whatever was between the three of you had grown and mutated into something you had no hope in understanding.
The Emperors had power, yes, there was no denying it. Yet part of you felt as though you were giving them more. Specifically over you. They had not said you could not leave your rooms. So why stay when sleep insisted on evading you?
Your father had had that kind of hold on you and your mother. The situations were not perfectly similar but you were loathe to think you had allowed another man to control you like that. The thoughts made you feel irrational, made you feel like doing something dangerous.
The flame licked at your finger tips and you hissed, pulling them back to your chest. You knew this palace well. Better than the Emperors, even. You knew all the secret spots, all the ways to sneak around without being spotted. Perhaps it was time to put that knowledge to good use. A tiny rebellion of sorts.
Your mind was made up. If you thought on it too long you would lose all courage. Slipping into your sandals, you tried not to think too hard about what you were doing.
"I am going for a walk in the gardens," you said to yourself, "as I am entitled to do. I have not been told I cannot do otherwise."
The look Geta had given you flashed across your eyes and you squeezed them shut, dismissing him.
Reaching under your mattress, you gave your carved wolf a squeeze and then let go. You mumbled a quick prayed to Fortuna and then slowly opened your door, scanning the corridors before poking out your head.
There was no-one you could see. That did not mean that no-one was actually there; you were too close to the Emperor's chambers for their to be no Praetorians.
Part of you knew you were taking a risk. If you were so confident that you were allowed to leave your room then why did you feel the need to evade the Praetorians?
You scrubbed your sweaty palms down your sleepwear. The plain white wrap would make you a glaring target but your other options were no better. It did not matter; you needed fresh air. Needed to take it without the weight of eyes upon you. The illusion of freedom was better than nothing.
You slipped from your room like a breath in the wind. As expected, the first hallway you came to was lined with Praetorians. You wasted no time in slipping by them, dipping into a stairwell and tip-toeing down.
All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart. The sound made you dizzy and you allowed yourself to stop for a moment, steadying yourself. Trembling, you stumbled down the rest of the stairs under you reached a landing. There were yet more guards but they were looking for people sneaking in, rather than out. Waiting until their backs were turned, you made a mad dash for freedom.
The rest of the way was mercifully quiet. Slowing down, you appreciated the silence. Yours were the one footsteps you could hear. It was funny; that night, when you had first met Caracalla, you had been terrified of these empty halls. Now they curved around you, protective, and you brushed a hand against them in familiarity.
Cool air blasted you when you finally stepped foot outside. You laughed and it was immediately lost to the wind. You were not as weak as you thought. You would do whatever you could to hold onto this feeling of dependence.
The air was biting and made your eyes water. Staying out here for long was not an option. Goosebumps emerged along your arms and thighs as the wind pushed itself under your clothes.
When the gusts softened, you wandered further out. You allowed yourself slow appraisals of all the flowers, most of which you did not recognise. You had had no interest in gardening before but they suddenly felt like the most beautiful thing in the world.
Your past and present slipped from you like water. In this moment, it was only you. You could pretend that you had all the choices in the world.
And you did have choices. It was the consequences that scared you. You wished you could peer into the future and see all the possible answers, all the solutions, and make your mind based on those. But you were no seer; the future was barred from your questioning eyes. You would simply have to wait and go the long way around to see what the future held.
An abrupt sound startled you and you whipped around, eyes searching. At first you thought the garden was empty and you relaxed, releasing your death-grip on your elbows.
A flash of red made your head swim and you stood still, mouth parting. No, you almost moaned, no, no, no.
Gravel crunched underfoot as Geta appeared, rounding a flower bed and jerking to a stop. His cheeks were red despite being dressed warmer than you. His mouth parted at the sight of you and you swallowed hard.
Fortuna, you languished, you have forsaken me.
It took you a moment to realise it was not bad luck or coincidence that Geta had stumbled across you. It was difficult to see them through the myriad of plants but several Praetorians had accompanied Geta to the gardens. It seemed that you had not been quite as subtle as you had thought.
Geta started towards you and you squeaked, not daring to back away. It took only several paces before he reached you, grasping your elbows and yanking you to his chest.
"You," he gaped," what were you thinking?"
He gave you a hard shake to force the answer out of you. He was out of breath, almost gasping, and you were stunned into silence.
"Come," he barked, yanking you back the way he came.
You lurched after him, gravel grazing the tips of your toes. Thought escape you and all you could do was lock your eyes on the back of Geta's robe. The pattern was exquisite and you wondered what it would feel like beneath your fingers.
You expected him to let you go once you were back inside but he did not. He continued to pull you along, barking orders at Praetorians, all the way back to your rooms. Your face crumpled at the sight of it but you did not protest as he wrenched you inside and shut the door, sealing both him and you in.
He swiped a hand over his face, shaking. "Do you have any idea how fortunate you are that it was not Caracalla who stumbled upon your ridiculous little escape plan?"
"I -"
"You are well aware that he has some sort of dependency on you," Geta continued, pacing back and forth, "yet you would abandon him at the first chance you had?"
"No, no," you shook your head, "I wanted only to see the gardens!"
Geta stopped, eying you with disbelief. He looked on edge. He almost reminded you of Caracalla in one of his episodes. The more you learned, the more you realised how similar they were.
"The gardens?" he spat. "In the middle of the night? In the cold?"
You brushed your fingers down your arms, embarrassed. "Yes."
Geta shook his head, eyes flickering all over you. His eyes narrowed as he finally seemed to register what you were wearing. "And in those clothes?"
Nothing you said was going to make him calm down. You let your eyes settle on the floor and thinned your lips.
"You could have asked," he finally said, shoulders sagging inward.
"Asked?"
"To see the gardens," he threw his hands into the air. "I would have had someone accompany you. You could not comprehend the trouble you have caused tonight."
"What right do I have to ask for anything?" you said, shocked. "I am a servant, barely more than a slave."
Geta studied you in that way you had become almost used to. His mouth worked, opening and closing several times before settling into a fine line.
"Yes," he agreed, "and you will obey your emperors. You are not to leave your room till morning and we will have someone fetch you when we are ready. Goodnight."
He turned to your bed and yanked up the sheet, throwing it upon you before exiting from the room. He slammed the door shut and you stood in stunned silence, frozen until you heard the deathly sound of a lock sliding shut.
"No," you murmured at first, then quickly got louder. "No, don't!"
Your emotions spilled out of you all at once. Throwing yourself against the door you began to pound upon it. Geta was still outside; you could see his shadow lingering beneath the door.
"Please," you begged, "I am sorry, Emperor, please."
The shadow disappeared as though it had never been there. Choking on your own tears, you rested your forehead against the wood, fists aching. You let out one long, primal scream and then fell back, yanking the covers over your head and angrily wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.
You fell asleep like that, hands clenching the covers and cursing whatever Gods had pushed this fate upon you.
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True to his word, Geta did send someone the next morning. A Praetorian soldier opened the door and peered in, cringing at your rumpled form on the bed.
"I am Consus," he said reluctantly. "The Emperors have sent me to retrieve you."
You scowled at the innocent man, dragging your body from the sheets. Your head was pounding and there were multiple spots on your hands where the skin had cracked and bled from your pounding on the door.
You were still in your bed clothes. Dirt stained the bottom and there were smears of blood dotted all over it.
"I need to get ready," you grumbled.
"That. . .will not be necessary," the guard said. "You will be relieved of your usual duties today but you must accompany me to the emperors."
Usual duties, you thought, whatever those were. But you were in no mood to argue so you stomped into your sandals and trailed after Consus. Whatever fight you had left had been squeezed out of you late last night. Now there was only the stinging of your hands and aching of your head.
It took less than two minutes to reach Geta's quarters. You had been foolish to think he would not learn of your brief dash for freedom.
Consus held open the door and announced your presence to the room. No-one had ever done that before. You had not been important enough.
You held your head up as much as you could and entered the room. Caracalla was the first to see you. It was almost comical the way his grin dropped from his face.
He stood up so fast that Dondus squeaked and leapt from his shoulder. He stormed over to you and cupped your hands in his, turning them over again and again as though he could not believe what he was seeing.
"What is this?" he was horrified. As though he had not caused worse injuries and found amusement in them.
"Brother," he snapped, "look. Someone has - someone has -"
Geta finally looked up. Despite being the last to see you, he was also stunned by your appearance. He swallowed harshly and stood straighter.
"She had a rough night, brother," he attempted to soothe Caracalla. "The healer is on the way."
His eyes told you not to say anything. You would not. There was no telling how Caracalla would react if he learned the truth of your escapade last night. Even though you had not truly tried to escape, it only mattered that Geta thought you had.
Caracalla yanked a hand through his hair. "Brother -"
"Enough," Geta raised his voice. "She is hurting. Let her sit."
The words seemed to do something to Caracalla and he steered you to a plush sofa, pulling you down so that you were half on his lap. You had no will to try to move and only sagged, letting Caracalla's hands wander over you.
It was strange how his jerky movements almost soothed you. Perhaps you were only glad for the company, having spent majority of last night confined to your quarters.
"Where does it hurt?" he whispered, eyes fixated on the darkened blood on your clothing.
"My head," you admitted, "and my hands."
Caracalla dusted careful fingers over your temples before turning his attention to your hands. He brought them to his face and kissed your palms. Your eyes welled from the soft touches. He murmured sweet nothings, brows furrowed as he took in your injuries. The smaller they were, the more they hurt. You sucked in a breath when his tongue darted out and swiped over a cut.
Consus appeared in the door once more, this time announcing the healer. The gentleman walked in, holding a leather bag that clinked with ointments and creams.
"Leave them and get out," Caracalla demanded, becoming louder when the man stalled. "Out!"
You would have felt pity for the man on any other day. He shrugged the bag from his shoulder and left it on a table, backing out of the room with his hands held up.
To your surprise it was Geta who retrieved the bag, handing it carefully to his brother. He eyed you in the way he often did and you held his gaze. Something like guilt flickered over his face but it was gone before you could analyse it.
Caracalla busied himself with the contents of the bag. He held up an expensive looking jar of cream and set it aside before picking up something much more recognisable - a small bottle of alcohol.
He popped the cork off. "This will sting."
You gasped and tried to yank your hands away but Caracalla held them steady as he dribbled small amounts of the liquid onto your palms. He used his own clothing to wipe away the traces of blood as if was nothing.
The cream was better. He dabbed it onto your cuts, glancing up at your face to gauge your reaction. You tried not to dwell to much on the fact that an Emperor of Rome was treating your superficial wounds.
"Better?" he asked.
"Better," you nodded. "Thank you, Emperor."
He looked over his shoulder and then back at you before leaning in to whisper, "You can address me as Caracalla."
A lump lodged itself in your throat. How many times had Caracalla been treated for his own injuries that he knew how to treat you for yours?
"What truly happened last night?" he asked you, careful to make sure Geta could not hear.
"Emperor Geta locked me in my room," you answered honestly.
Caracalla thought about it for a moment. "It is better that way," he decided. "It keeps you safe. Don't you want to be safe for us?"
Of course. Caracalla was no different to his brother though you could not pretend to understand their emotions or motivations.
Geta was watching the pair of you. He looked down when you noticed, pretending to be ensconced in his paperwork. Ignoring you just as he did last night when he left you screaming in your room.
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You spent the whole day laying about in Geta's chambers. Caracalla doted on you, feeding you bits of food and checking on your wounds.
The more he touched you the harder it was to pull away. His touches got firmer, bolder; the back of your neck, your arms, even your thighs when you shifted. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier until it was impossible to ignore the blatant way he was panting over you.
And it was not as though you were immune to his caresses.
After a few hours of torture, Geta turned his attention back to you.
"There is a gathering tonight," he said, "you will get ready."
"And what am I to do at this gathering?" you boldly asked.
Geta pulled you from the plush cushions by your wrist. He leaned in close. "You are going because I cannot trust you enough to leave you alone. Do not complain; it is unbecoming of a young lady such as yourself."
His mocking tone sent a spike of anger through you. You deigned not to respond. Such blatant disrespect was stupid but you were still unfathomably angry that he had locked you away. You wanted to say that he had no right but, as Emperor, he did. Geta and Caracalla could do anything they wished and you were constantly reminded of it.
Geta pointed you to some clothes hanging up on a privacy screen. He dragged Caracalla away so you could change in peace - an apology of sorts? You yanked on the clothing and tried to let your temper cool. It would do you no good to have an attitude in the presence of others.
Once more you were back in the entertainment hall. Geta had you stationed by a wall, offering cups to anyone who wanted one. It was obvious you had been placed there only because it kept you firmly in his sight.
After an hour you found yourself feeling calmer, taking purpose in your small task. The familiarity made you at ease and you were able to put the Emperors to the back of your mind.
They were surrounded by concubines and tittering senators. A woman was perched on the cushions behind Geta, rubbing a hand on his shoulder and occasionally allowing it to dip beneath his clothing. Geta met your eyes across the room and leaned back, allowing her further contact.
The concubines were having a difficult time with Caracalla. He would relax into their forward touches and then suddenly jerk forward, shoving them away and screaming obscenities. You had never seen him quite so wild at a gathering; it was known that Caracalla enjoyed parties and was most approachable during them.
The concubines did not know what to do with themselves. Breaking point was reached when one dared to slip his hand beneath Caracalla's tunic. Immediately Caracalla was upon the man, hands flying in every which direction and beating the him to a near pulp.
How was this the same man who had so softly attended to you earlier? Your anger seeped away and was replaced by familiar fear. What would it take for him to turn on you like that?
Praetorians approached and dragged the concubine away. The party continued as though nothing at happened. These people cared not for the lives of those below them.
Caracalla's eyes darted about the room. Searching for you, no doubt. You recoiled into the wall and shrank in on yourself, desperate to go unnoticed.
Someone did spot you, but it was not Caracalla. The master of gladiators gave you a predators smile and sauntered over, plucking a cup from the tray you were holding.
Something about Macrinus unnerved you. His smile was open enough but you did not trust the man. That had never mattered before when you were a simple servant in the kitchen but now. . .
"It is you," he smiled teasingly, bumping you with his elbow.
You recoiled at the unwanted touch. "I'm sorry?"
"You," he repeated, " who has enamoured the emperors and now takes up so much of their time."
Something cold slithered into your stomach. You did not like Macrinus - did not like that this man knew so much about you.
"I. . .do not know what you are speaking of," the lie caught in your throat but you pushed it out anyway.
Macrinus laughed, loud and cold. "I think you do."
At that moment Caracalla appeared, wrapping his hand around your elbow and exposing the lie you had told.
"I want to leave," he grumbled, "come now."
He uttered a tense greeting to Macrinus and dragged you from the room. You went willingly, thankful for any distance between yourself and the master of gladiators and his sharp smile.
Caracalla was rougher than usual as he tugged you along. This time to his chambers. He kept looking over your shoulder and muttering to himself, yanking you closer and closer until you were almost tripping over each other. You were not overly alarmed; you had faith that you would be able to pacify him.
Your mind was preoccupied with your brief meeting with Macrinus. The emperors made you uneasy but it was nothing to do with the sickening feel Macrinus evoked in you.
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Authors Note - This might be my favourite chapter yet idkkkk - please let me know what you think! Please like, comment, reblog if you enjoyed and don’t be afraid to send asks because they are my favourite thing
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actinidiafruit ¡ 21 hours ago
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Okay so i just recently watched the lighthouse again and a lot of things are becoming more clear to me.
Contains spoilers so uh, if you haven't watched (pls do), then don't read.
There's so many things to talk about and this post will probably come across as a crazy man's ramblings, but so be it.
Tom's role is interesting to say the least. Like, at first you kinda just think that he's being a dick for the sake of being a dick and he's just doing that classic old man shit. But then you get these little glimpses.
This is just my interpretation, but the way he mentions how his former second went crazy and was hallucinating mermaids and shit. It kinds plants the seeds into (for the sake of clarity I'll just call him Winslow) Winslow's head. And during their sober run together (before the bird + storm incidents), they're acting relatively normal. Of course Tom gives Winslow a hard time, but that's just him being Tom. Abusing his power as the elder a bit. But the way he morphs in the later half of the movie (especially now that they're both abusing alcohol). You see his intentions more clearly. The way he gaslights Winslow, tries to turn things on him, the way he wrote bad things about him in the log book(?). He's a mean old guy. But why? I still can't figure out why he's done this. Why he killed his former second (which he totally did, even if he didn't spill his beans about it). Is he protective of the light? Is that it? God knows.
And te way the mermaid is presented is... it makes you think. In my first two watches, I didn't understand why or why. But I think now it's a symbol for Winslow's sexuality (at least in some scenes). The way he'd use the charm in the shed. The way he had that hallucination on the rocks. The time he caught Tom having a private moment in the lighthouse and then hallucinated tentacles. Towards the end, when he's beating Tom on the floor and Winslow hallucinates him turning into some sort of sea king type creature.
Of course something must've happened between the two. That one scene where they're drunkenly holding each other, swaying, then go to kiss before breaking out into a fight. The whole master/dog thing. There's a lot of Winslow reflected in Tom. And of course he'd eventually spill his beans, want to be intimate, etc. They've been alone together for god knows how long. It's a very human thing to want to reach out and connect.
It's just so indicative of the human condition and the way that we connect. I feel like I need to watch this movie another 20 times before I fully get it, but my eyes were opened to quite a bit.
And the scene where Winslow looks into the light and laughs/screams. It gives me this sense of triumph (he finally got to see the Forbidden thing!) but also bittersweet. The laughter is triump, the bittersweet screaming is Winslow coming to grips with the fact that it's just a light. There was no point to why Tom guarded it like he did. It's like Winslow finally realises that he let himself be led to madness by some old, lying idiot and can't help but scream at his foolishness. The pointlessness of it all. And maybe that's why he lets himself fall down the stairs and ultimately die. His sins cannot be undone (done-bun can't be undone), so therefore he rots, being eaten by the very things that kickstarted his whole downfall.
Finally, just ugh. The cinematography. The unreliable narrator aspect. The way it's so open ended to interpretation. This movie has so much to give, I just wish my friends liked it even a little lol.
updated this list btw
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RULES:
at least one of the pair MUST be over 50
20 year MINIMUM age gap OR they BOTH have to be over 50
has to be conceivably reciprocal (s.exually, no necessarily romantically)
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raayllum ¡ 2 days ago
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Can you explain why Claudia is so upset with Terry when they reunite after he leaves? And why Terry, of all people, looks so guilty with her that he can't even look her in the eye? It's one of those things where you know this should all be reversed, but isn't. Why? Why is the betrayer so hostile to the betrayed?
God I loved the messy as fuck whatever they had going on Claudia and Terry dynamic in S7, and I think there's a few reasons why
One of the cruxes of Claudia's character is that she is attached to seeing herself as a good person, and others as not-good by comparison. This means that she can engage in the exact same behaviour and justify it while assuming that others' reasonings couldn't possibly measure up.
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This cognitive dissonance is not exclusive to Claudia (Callum and Rayla in particular have a tendency to justify each other's choices in ways they don't with other characters, i.e. Rayla viewing dark magic use being 'evil' except when Callum is using it and he's the 'goodest' person she knows) but the focus on 'my view of myself' largely is. Most other characters in TDP are focused on "I still view this other person as a good person," not being focused on "I view myself as a good person". But Claudia is, and it's this core desire being increasingly pitted against "I will do vile, awful things to keep my family together" that are constantly duking it out.
When Claudia finds Soren and Terry waiting for her, it's clear that not only has Terry joined her brother, but has turned against her (as he could've left and then just fucked off somewhere else). This association with Soren, I think, is one of the things that gets her haunches raised, since Soren made it very clear what he thinks the last time they saw one another in 4x07:
SOREN: You have to stop trying to release the greatest evil this world has ever known. CLAUDIA: I knew you wouldn't understand.
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All Claudia hears is "there's something wrong with you." That she's the bad guy and on the Wrong side (which, to be fair, Soren also calls her and Viren bad humans when trying to wake Rex Igneous in 4x09). And, by extension, that Soren is better than her. More correct, more moral, more Right.
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And Claudia cannot stand feeling judged. She cannot stand being treated like 'the bad guy' (because of course from her perspective, everything she does is right) and she struggles to hold a conception of "I did something genuinely wrong and can still be a good person" (see: "We're not going to the dungeons Soren, we didn't do anything wrong") usually leaning into one or the other, and normally the latter.
So Terry being with Soren is also "you think I'm wrong, you think I'm bad, and you think you're Better than me" (vs Aaravos' "believed we could be better, so he gave us magic"). She thinks the pair are there to stop her, and she's not wrong, on a certain level.
So when Soren makes a gesture of good will, openly contingent on Terry wanting to spare her ("You're here to save me? How generous [...] I can change, and you will help me. Did I get everything?" Karim vibes), it's just seen as "you're showing off how/why you think you're Better than me" and was, quite frankly, never going to work.
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Soren setting down his sword came closer, as it's more reciprocal, and it also symbolizes Soren setting down his mantle/duty (the same sword that killed Viren the first time, presumably). But Soren makes another mistake; the same mistake he made in 4x07:
Dad is dead, Claudia. You don't have to do what he wants anymore.
Set down your staff, Claudia. Dad's staff.
But while Claudia has been doing stuff for Viren, she hasn't done what he wanted in a long time. She's been doing what she wants ("You are not letting go, Dad!") for a hot second, and now alongside Aaravos. (I need to write a scene on her and Aaravos' talk in 7x06, but that's for another day.) And that has included taking down elves and dragons as a whole (and any elf that doesn't help her) for a while.
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The dragons and the elves, all the arrogant fools blinded by the searing light of their own self-righteousness.
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They are wrong, and she and Aaravos are right ("So much we can make right"). This is a very black-and-white viewpoint in many ways, one that some characters are faster as dismantling than others, but I have no doubt that Arc 3 will push it to its breaking point for all of them. Soren and Terry have thrown in their loyalties with the elves and dragons, since Terry was previously a "good elf Exception" alongside Aaravos because they were both helping her and, as previously discussed, Terry has now turned against her, and all the baggage Claudia carries about such a thing is now dumped onto him by proxy (which Terry doesn't necessarily know or understand).
So what does he look so guilty over?
Honestly? The illusion plan. I'm sure he's worried that Claudia might get hurt, and that things might escalate / go south, but he is ultimately there with a plan that is not what he wanted. What Terry wanted was to find the real Lissa and give Claudia a real chance to connect with her mother and maybe change her ways. But it's not real. It's deception, and he knows it.
TERRY: You lied to me! AARAVOS: I never lie. I simply said we needed a big feather and a very small feather. That is all. TERRY: No. You say you never lie, what you do is worse. You tell people half-truths and let people fill in the rest. You make people lie to themselves. It's deception. It's manipulation, and it's wrong.
She betrayed him, and now in his own way he's betraying her.
So what makes him decide to turn around and do something... similar, shall we say? There's a few things. The first is that they're on a time limit and have no way to reach Lissa. The second is that it's plausible the others were going to do it anyway, and Terry accompanied them because 1) he couldn't stop them, 2) he felt responsible, and 3) hoped that his presence would make a positive difference to Claudia.
The second is the other half of what Aaravos says to Terry, I think.
TERRY: I'll tell Claudia. AARAVOS: Oh, it will change nothing. She loves me. [...] And what of Claudia, then? She knows so much more than she tells you, and she keeps it that way to protect you.
Now, Terry rightfully understands that Claudia wasn't keep things from him to protect him; she did it to use him and to keep him from leaving ("I knew he'd leave once he found out"). However, Terry being willing to live in a half-truth and employ one on Claudia because he genuinely believes it will help her, because he thinks it's a truth he needs to withhold to protect her ("You have to promise me that no harm will come to Claudia" is most easily kept if she backs down)... that I can believe, especially since it lets him believe that she's capable of change/quitting. He wants to Save her, not use her.
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That doesn't mean he thinks it won't Hurt.
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ateez-himari ¡ 1 day ago
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VERSACE; MILAN REUNION
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A Designer and Her Muse
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. . A limited edition of the fourth generation, a masterpiece of the century
. . The very moonlight illuminating the lavish city seemed to welcome the house's muse home as she stepped out of an expensive car rented by the fashion designer whose gates had opened solely for her, a simple knitted off-the shoulder bodycon dress appearing so luxurious even when decorated with so little jewelry.
"My beautiful girl!" Donatella exclaimed, her native language carrying the beauty she saw in the presence before her. "You did so well tonight, I've missed you so much."
Unable to approach the maknae after the breath taking concert due to the group interacting with fans whilst heading back to their hotel she wrapped bracelet adorned arms around the one that had grown so precious to her, delighting in the bashful giggles echoing through the night air - which made even the bodyguards lose their habitual composure.
"It's been much too long." Himari greeted in that same language, her slight accent only accentuating her charm in the eyes of those watching. "But you should have told me you were coming, I would have arranged for better seating!"
"Nonsense princess, watching you as a fan was more than enough." The older woman retorted, gently cupping her cheek. "Look at you, your hair's down to your lower back now...you grow more beautiful every time I see you."
. . Like a Dragonfly, a spot to rest, a global luxury
. . Walking through the emptied halls in which were displayed numerous paintings created by the vocalist herself, whose delicately manicured hands flew through the air in motions with grace akin to ribbons as she explained the story behind each one with the most beautiful clarity resonating in her voice. Donatella watched carefully, entranced by her angelic beauty much like many that have crossed her path, though her gaze held something almost motherly despite failing to understand certain words laced heavily in an accent foreign to her.
"This gallery is unbelievable..." Himari marveled to herself. "I truly cannot thank you enough for exhibiting my work here."
"You've done more than enough to deserve this." The designer brushed off, placing a hand on her bare shoulder. "You've poured your soul into everything you do for this house, for your group, for the industry...people should see the product of that."
. . Hi, hey, how you doin'? My-my name is
. . Employees could not seem to tear their eyes from the young woman whose every move exuded pure elegance, most coming to understand why an entire sketchbook had been dedicated solely to creating outfits to be work by her at any given event as despite family names no longer holding much power the royalty in her blood shone through her very existence. Himari caught the curious looks from her peripheral vision, cheeks flushing with a deep pink color as she bowed shyly, uttering out awkward greetings in the language she was slowly growing familiar with - though it only seemed to endear the onlookers further.
"They're just intrigued by you, princess." Donatella reassured with a hand on her tattooed spine. "You surprise even me with your beauty."
"It's just strange to get this sort of attention without my members." The vocalist giggled softly, tugging on her long sleeves out of timidity.
. . Do not waste your time, yeah, it's gotta be me
. . News Sites Wrote;
HYBE reportedly called on an emergency press conference in regards to the theft allegations made by the maknae through a live broadcast yet while the corporation seems to have been left in disarray, brands have been continuously fighting to reel Himari into the front row seats of their fashion week shows. The artist, however, appears to have declined these invitations in order to visit Donatella Versace's home as the two were photographed walking around the evening streets of Milan mere hours following an intense concert - certain passerby stating that they were awe struck when seeing the ambassador in person for the first time. [...]
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lananiscorner ¡ 3 days ago
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Perhaps I was not clear enough in my original reblog, but I think you may have misunderstood several points of my post.
I was not trying to invalidate anything about the OP or miss its point--I was adding onto it, because for some adults who enjoy media for children, nostalgia is part of the appeal. I am sorry that the nature of your childhood meant that this could not be the case for you, but that doesn't change the fact that it is a factor for some, including for me. Your experiences are not universal, and neither are mine.
Personally, I occasionally rewatch cartoons from my childhood because they take me back to "simpler times". I occasionally watch shows or movies like them, designed for kids, even today as a grown adult long out of childhood, because there is something comforting for me in enjoying a well-made show/movie that focuses on the core messages we try to instill in future generations in terms that nobody can miss: be brave, be understanding, be kind, make friends.
The reason why I went into the second topic of my post (the stigma around adults consuming media for kids being puritanical panic around the potential of adults corrupting or hurting kids if they engage with the fandom) is because this is precisely the reasoning I see flung around most often by other people as criticism of adults who are in fandoms for child media or who enjoy media for children.
Gonna repeat that again: BY OTHER PEOPLE. I do not agree with that take.
I cannot count the many times I have either received asks myself, or have had mutuals receive asks, saying we should not be in fandoms X, Y, Z, because a grown adult enjoying stuff for children is creepy.
I was pushing back on said argument, to state why it is, in fact, beneficial to have people of multiple age ranges enjoying the same thing, precisely because it is the argument I most frequently had people try to wield against me and my mutuals.
I WISH I had no need to bring it up. I WISH that sentiment (that all adults who enjoy stuff for kids or are hanging out in fandoms for said media are creeps) did not exist, but it does, and so I decided to address it, before anybody tries to jump into my ask box and go "hurgh, hurgh, that post you reblogged about how we shouldn't shame adults for enjoying media for kids--do you not realize what massive creeps you are?"
You also grossly misinterpreted what I meant by "not every". "Not every" does not automatically mean "a good chunk" or "most". It means "not 100%". At no point, did I make any statement about how many percent of adults who enjoy kids media or enjoy hanging out in fandoms about kids media may be abusers, but I did acknowledge that they exist, because they do. They do exist in kids media fandoms, as they do in any sphere of life where kids may be present. So let me state this clearly for the record: In my experience, it is an incredibly small number, but it is not 0%. It is also not 100% though, which is what some other people like to assume.
There are plenty of people who are into children's media or part of those fandoms for entirely normal, healthy reasons:
They enjoy the simplicity of it.
They enjoy the quality of the writing/animation/music/various other parts of the work.
It helps them work through trauma or tough times.
It gives them nostalgic comfort.
They have loved ones or friends who enjoy it and want to be able to connect with them about it.
[Insert probably around half a dozen reasons here that I cannot think of at the moment.]
I do not judge anybody who likes media for kids for liking media for kids. As long as you are not harming anybody, you do you. Have fun, live your best life, enjoy the things you enjoy.
And regarding your question "How do you think about people who WORK in animation??" - In general, I think most of them are incredibly talented people. Whether they are decent people in a moral sense is something I cannot judge, unless:
A) I get to know them personally (highly unlikely).
B) They use their amazing talent to create something bigoted/hateful.
C) They publicly interact with others in a bigoted/hateful/abusive manner, or records of them interacting in such manner in private become public.
And if B or C ever happen (e.g. Rowling), I simply block them, stop interacting with their material, and move on with my life.
I like to think of people as innocent until proven guilty. I do my best to treat strangers with respect, understanding and kindness, and I say "do my best" because nobody's perfect--we all mess up sometimes and there have definitely been days when I have been physically or emotionally drained enough to be a sad ball of rage lashing out at anyone who interacted with me, and also because I am well aware that I have certain culturally-ingrained biases that I am actively doing my best to unlearn. But my default is always "assume decent person, until proven otherwise".
I will conclude by saying this: I wish you the best and I hope I made my point clearer this time.
Quick edit to add: I will also mute this post now, in the interest of not getting into any further arguments and derail OPs post even further. My initial reblog was meant to be a simple addition in further support of letting people enjoy what they enjoy.
I really have no patience for posts talking about "adults who only watch kids' cartoons," because, like...people accuse me of "only watching kids' cartoons," despite all evidence to the contrary. It doesn't matter how much I talk about other adult media I like, if I post too many things in a row about Steven Universe or The Dragon Prince or The Owl House, people come out of the goddamn woodwork to accuse me of "only watching kids' shows."
So I really can't take people seriously when they start talking about the supposed "problem" of "adults who only watch kids' shows." Are the "adults who only watch kids' cartoons" in the room with us right now, or are you basing your entire opinion of people solely on their fandom blog? Like, come on.
It makes me think of the couple years I spent volunteering in a school library. The librarian talked a lot about how it's hurtful to enforce "reading at grade-level" on every student with no nuance. Teachers would try to force their students to check out books "at proper grade-level," instead of letting students pick out whatever they wanted (even if it was "too easy"), and it resulted in a lot of students deciding books were boring, too hard, and only good for making them feel stupid. They started to hate reading entirely, because people constantly shut them down and told them they were stupid for not reading the right things. This was especially brutal on disabled students.
I personally apply the same philosophy to adults. You don't know what someone might struggle with, you don't know what someone's history is. You might think a piece of media is "too simple," but that's your experience and your opinion. People learn and grow and experience the world at different paces, and what seems to you like a "simplistic" piece of media may be the most complex, illuminating piece of media someone else has ever had the opportunity to experience. It doesn't make them "stupid" or "childish," and believing that it does is cruel and counterproductive. You cannot wield shame as a fucking cudgel if your goal is education, support, and helping people expand their horizons.
I don't think a culture of shame is helpful. I don't think a culture of "if you like 'childish' things, it means you're too stupid for anything else" is helpful. I don't think constantly making fun of children's media does anything other than demean people--and not just the people who enjoy it, but the people who make it, too.
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tetedurfarm ¡ 1 day ago
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I know I just have goat fever right now daydreaming, but I would love to hear about your goats. What's their purpose, most annoying trait, anything at all
i am so sorry in advance because i am always brutal when people want animals that i own and they ask me for my opinion. it's a personality flaw. but i need people to understand why animals suck before i say why they are fun lmao
why goat:
my goats are for milk mainly. i have a nigerian dwarf, a mini nubian, a mostly-nigerian 'mini-nubian', and a kinder. their milk is actually really good, all of them, and their production is good for my needs. i expect each to make about half a litre or so a day at peak production this year, going off of numbers from last year. it will be violet's third freshening, and phoebe's second, and they generally increase in production every year for the first three or four years before levelling off. i am not planning to breed hallow unless i find someone with a nigerian buck that they don't mind letting me borrow, cos derek is just way too big for her i fear. turnip will be on her first freshening. i prefer the mini nubians and kinders to the nigerians because they have more ground clearance and bigger teats so it's easier to use a machine on them. hand milking the itty bitty titties isn't awful but i try not to hand milk if possible lol
i do eat kids because i can't sell them, and they are dairy goats so they aren't exactly the meatiest things on the planet, but it's food. i like the taste of wether and doe but buck is stanky.
what i hate about goats:
crime. i know it's the joke but genuinely goats are little shits and your new favourite hobby is now fence the second you put one on your land. literally any sort of weakness in their enclosure they will get through. cannot overstate. if you use electric fence as their primary enclosure (if you want them to mow a weird spot for you or something) they have to be net and they have to hit hard. provided it's grounded right, my net fence with a 1 joule solar charger can hit around 4k max and they will ignore that if they want something on the other side bad enough. however they will usually respect it if they have plenty to eat within the legal zone. you cannot tie a goat because they will strangle themselves trying to eat something outside of their range or slip their collar and do whatever they want.
they will climb on anything they possibly can, including buildings and enclosures. they will also rub on things which is fine sometimes if it's a brush mounted on a pole and bad sometimes when it's your fence. also if they can stick their head through a fance they will do so and if they have horns they will get stuck. sometimes they will get stuck without horns. the issue i have the most with them sticking their heads through fence is they push on it so hard it can warp cattle panel fences and stretch tension ones so i just have to make sure they aren't overly mcfucking everything every now and then.
speaking of horns it is sort of a personal preference on whether or not you do horns. horns look sick af and help them thermoregulate in hotter climates but also horns suck ass and make a lot of things difficult if you are milking them. horns don't always fit into milking stanchions, and i have had enough situations with a bitchy nanny on the stand where if horns were involved i would have been pretty badly injured. they will press them against things because it feels good and again that's fine if it's a post and bad if it's you. my horned goats don't seem to headbutt things like my ram does, and my goats are little so they can't push me over when they press on me, but if they were normal sized goats we'd be having words. trying to medicate horned goats is a pain because i can't just pop them between my thighs unless i want really wicked bruises. i did not want horned goats. the only reason i have two is because one i didn't go deep enough when i was dehorning him, and the other i didn't plan to keep so i didn't bother. there is a nonzero chance i will replacing the horned doe with a daughter this year just because i don't want to deal with it :/
feed-wise they aren't too bad but they are ruminants and have ruminant problems. but you have rabbits and a lot of the same things apply so it's not a huge deal. they need roughage constantly which means if you don't have grass you have to buy hay, and if you can't get it cheap then get fucked. everyone's feeding methods and routine is individual to their needs and herd but mine have free-choice local hay, and i give them a flake or two of alfalfa a day depending on their condition (less in summer when there's grass, more in winter when there isn't.) i give a little grain twice a day; i personally find it less expensive and better and keeping condition on them than just alfalfa, plus it serves as a great incentive to get them all back in the shed when i need. same as the alfalfa, they get less in summer and more in winter, just kinda eyeballed and adjusted as needed to keep condition. the buck and his wether get less grain and their alfalfa is pelleted because it just works a little better with how their feeders are set up. speaking of feeders - goats LOVE standing in feeders and will shit and piss in them and then decide the food is inedible. we screwed 2x4s about six to eight inches over their troughs to prevent this but it makes the horned ones' lives harder so we will need to adjust them. in general goats will not eat food once it touches the ground. it's really fucking annoying because they will waste so much fucking hay that way if you don't have some kind of solid bottom to their feeders. this is An Problem with alfalfa because they ONLY eat the leaves and rarely eat the stems, but the leaves just fall out of normal hay racks and onto the ground. which is lava, obviously. also, they will get addicted to alfalfa and grain. and if you do not give them these things every day they will make your life hell. which is like, fine, if that is part of your feeding plan, but let's just say it took beetlebug over a month of constant screaming before he finally adjusted to his new diet of not being free-fed alfalfa like he was at his old home. he nearly was returned to sender x:
my goats are not huge fans of treats/cookies for some fucking reason and will only eat them if they're apple flavoured. most people do not have this problem.
this is only really a con for me because i also have sheep, but because sheep can't have copper in their mineral i have to bolus my goats a couple of times a year as needed which is a pain in the ass. the fig newton trick does not work because of aforementioned 'we only eat apple cookies' reasons so i have to do it the hard way and it's a rodeo every single time and i hate it. you know they need copper because their fur will get kinda dull and sometimes curly, and they will get what's called a 'fishtail' where they will start going bald on the tip of their tails. it's more a problem for me in winter because we have good copper in the soil, but when there's no grass they need a little help.
goats have soft feet that don't grind down well so you have to trim them which isn't a huge issue but just like, an issue. it's hard on my body particularly so i don't do it as often as i know i should. a trimming stanchion is worth the money. also make sure you get good quality shears because shitty ones will kill your hands.
goats do not suffer in silence and much like cats their definition of suffer is sometimes not actually suffering at all, and is just like....you did not give them alfalfa at Exactly the same time one day so you get to listen to shrieking until you do it. my nursing mamas sleep in a different area that is closer to the house and they will get Real Mad for a couple days the first few times i put them in there at night, and then also every morning if they run out of hay.
if it matters to you, the milk is naturally mostly homogenised and it means if you want to make cream or butter or whatever you have to have a cream separator which are complicated, expensive, and annoying to clean. the milk will separate a little bit on its own, so i guess if you really wanted to you could just skim it every day but you still won't get all of it without a separator.
and lastly, if you keep a buck then you get to deal with Buck Issues™️. famously, bucks stink. my old buck stank all the time, but derek is actually not so bad. outside of horny season he has very little smell but even when he's pissing on himself to appeal to the ladies he isn't nearly as fragrant as orion was. orion you could smell from a mile away. they are also rough on fences and gates for goat reasons but also for horny reasons if there's a doe on the other side. make sure your gates latch Real good. they also need less fat in their diets, can be pushy, and need a companion of some variety or they will get sad. derek lives with beetlebug, who is wethered, and they get along well. some people can keep bachelor groups but it seems to be the exception, and i personally have no need for multiple bucks so i can't give you any firsthand experience.
what i like about goats:
milk milk milk milk milk. it's real good. at least my goats' milk is; not all breeds have tasty milk. to me my goats' milk just tastes like slightly above 2% cows' milk, with a little bit of a grassy or piney taste depending on what they've been eating. mini nubians are nigerian/nubian crosses so their milk is very high in fat and very sweet. kinders are pygmy/nubian crosses so they are a little meatier and the milk is sweet but a little less high in fat.
they are very personable animals and usually will eat out of your hand even if they aren't fan of being pet and cuddled. bottle-raised ones can range from 'dog you can do anything to and likes hanging out with you' to 'trying to climb you constantly and eat your hair' but i have never had that last problem because i don't allow climbing or constant pestering. the worst i've had with a bottle-raised kid was daisy being really like...sexually aggressive towards me and that's why she's in the freezer now. they have big personalities and they are very fun to watch do their little goat thing and there is constant pecking order politics happening to spice things up.
they come in lots of pretty colours and you can mix and match pretty easily to find a breed or cross you really enjoy. like i said, i like the mini nubians and kinders because they are on the smaller side - around 60, 70lbs or so for the does i would guess? and their heads are right at bellybutton range for me who stands 5'8" - bit still have a lot of space between the udder and the ground so they are easy to milk. the nubian in them also helps their teats be a good size and their milk to stay rich.
them being browsers is sort of a blessing and a curse. they are awesome for clearing areas of brush, which is a pro for me who lives in himalayan blackberry hell, but if you want them to mow their lawn they'll only eat grass if there's nothing else. browsing is also why they are so rough on fences and why they tend to eat more shit they shouldn't, they just stuck their head through fence and try whatever they can. the browsing is why i like running sheep with them; the sheep graze and the goats clear.
in conclusion
i know that cons list is huge but i do genuinely like my goats. and i think we all know that i just like animals that make my life objectively worse. i don't know why i'm like this. they do really suck ass sometimes though and i absolutely understand why so many people hate goats. they are absolutely not for everyone. if you drink a lot of milk you are honestly probably better off getting a cow if you want an animal that probably doesn't make you want to pull your hair out at least once a month. if you just want lawnmowers, get sheep. they aren't as personable or friendly usually but they are content to eat grass and shit and don't cause near the amount of crimes.
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jiangwanyinscatmom ¡ 2 days ago
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I have a genuine doubt about Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian’s relationship in the novel. (I just read your post about if a kid jc would defend a kid wwx, but has a little to do with that post).
I remember Jiang Cheng tried to defender Wei Wuxian from his mother, and later he even sacrificed himself for wwx, losing his core in the process. (If there’s more, I don’t remember. It’s been a time since I read the novel).
I really don’t understand why he sacrificed? I get that he thought Wei Wuxian was better than him, but… after everything he did, he just let people jeopardize Wei Wuxian in the end of his first life?…
It was a way to say “everything I owed you is paid”? Was he mad that he did that but in the end Wei Wuxian wasn’t “grateful” even never knowing what Jiang Cheng truly did?…
I think after Jiang Cheng lost his core to “protect” Wei Wuxian, he started to see wwx as a servant and nothing more. Before the attack we saw that they got along very well, but after it seemed like he started to agree more with his mother's ideas about Wei Wuxian being only a servant.
That’s why he was so mad that Jiang Yanli died defending him? He threw Jiang Yanli’s sacrifice away and lead a siege against Wei Wuxian anyway…
Not only he threw his relationship with Wei Wuxian away, but he did not respected his sister’s wish and choice. She knew something was wrong, that Wei Wuxian wouldn’t kill her husband for nothing, and Jiang Cheng didn’t trust her…
I am wrong? I really want your point of view about this. And I’m sorry if you already talked about it, I’m new here. Thank you!
Caring about others, is complicated. For as much as I'm called a hater and anti, I have never denied that Jiang Cheng cared (as lacking as that may have been in a significant way) for Wei Wuxian.
Jiang Cheng did care in some capacity for Wei Wuxian and try. He just didn't put up much effort in the long run to maintain that support when it was a detriment to himself and was spiteful when that care required effort and some sacrifices. Even when he "protected" Wei Wuxian from his mother he was still cowed by her threats to him, and let Wei Wuxian be whipped (and later turned to strangle Wei Wuxian, twice actually, and blame him for his parents deaths).
As for the core issue. Jiang Cheng never expected to give more than what he was expecting for Wei Wuxian. He did not willingly give his core and was resentful about that cost for protecting Wei Wuxian. It cannot be a kindness when he hated what it cost and lashed out years after. He always thought of Wei Wuxian as his servant first and foremost despite being "friends". That is what always would make them eventually part. Ideologically they are nothing alike and that was obvious as soon as their talk about servants children and Jiang Cheng dismissing their worth and ability. He threw his relationship away because he felt entitled to Wei Wuxian as a tool more than a friend. A friend does not have stipulations for their care and love especially when they start forming it as a debt of give and take.
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god-o-bees ¡ 2 days ago
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Nikto X Krueger X Reader
Pt3 NSFW
Female Reader
This is a longer one😅
Oh god, they had fucked.
You could smell it on them the next day. It was unmistakable, their scents were all mixed together- they hadn't even showered. You kept your head down. Nikto probably wouldn't remember you, or even care. Krueger seemed happy with this new development, and may not ever need to talk to you again.
It didn't matter to them how you felt, of course. Besides, you didn't even know these guys, why would you be hurt by any of this?
Because he used you. Made you think for a moment that you were worth his time.
It wasn't that unusual. You'd never been the most appealing omega. You weren't meek or bashful. You didn't bat your eyelashes and beg for attention.
Even if you did, it wouldn't work.
Whatever.
You needed fresh air, something to flush out all the embarrassing thoughts crowding your mind.
《•°~☆~°•~☆~•°~☆~°•~☆~•°~☆~°•》
Krueger hadn't gotten rid of the shirt. Nikto noticed it under his pillow, the scent of it's owner rubbed into the sheets. As the week passed, however, the shirt itself lost that sharp aroma, and smelled more like the deep forest that Krueger embodied.
As much as he felt possessive of Krueger, he couldn't bring himself to get upset. Y/N, he'd called them. The omega with the fierce scent. God, what was he thinking? Him of all people, starting a pack- on base, no less.
And yet, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Having Krueger and you rely on him for safety, comfort and... other needs... he found his breath picking up.
He paced the room with the shirt in his hands as his thoughts began to spiral.
You'd stay in the room with them. Make a nest, fill the space with your scent. Maybe you'd mark him and Krueger as yours.
He looked down at the shirt. Guilt clawed at the back of his mind. He should really give this back to you.
《•°~☆~°•~☆~•°~☆~°•~☆~•°~☆~°•》
A knock at the door pulled you from your light sleep. You had managed to shake off most of the uncomfortable thoughts from a week ago, and successfully avoided the two men since. You occasionally saw them around, and picked up their scents around base, but whenever one came too close, you slipped away. It didn't matter how soothing their voices were to your ears, or how hungry their smells made you. You were no one to them.
You looked over to your roommates, who slept soundly in their beds.
Opening the door, you immediately felt the blood leaving your face.
"Um... Nikto, right?" You tried your best to retain a stoic exterior, despite the pit of embarrassment forming in your stomach.
"I came to return this to you," he explained, holding up a T-shirt you hadn't realized was missing.
"Oh- um, thanks. I must've left it in the gym or something..." You mumbled, but he shakes his head.
"Krueger stole it."
Your jaw dropped. "O-oh?"
"He used it to... tease me. Confuse me about my own feelings so I'd get my head out of my ass and figure out what I want. And I want him."
Why was he telling you all this? Just to rub it in your face? To really hammer home how much of a pawn you were in their game? You thought he'd just forget about you and move on, but you clearly underestimated his cruelty.
"I know this is... strange. And sudden. But I cannot get you out of my head. You make me want to care for you. The way I care for Krueger."
You felt dizzy. Like the world was spinning twice as fast. Your heart beat in your chest like you were running a marathon.
"I- I'm sorry, I don't understand," the words stumbled from your mouth.
"Can I show you what I mean, then?" He asked, his voice gentle and calm despite how deep and raspy it is. His hand took your wrist and lead you out to the hall, down towards an isolated room- his room.
"I can smell it on you," he said. "Your loneliness. Your anger. Such a lovely omega like you shouldn't feel those things."
He opened the door. The room was clearly meant to house around four beds in a standard bunk, but two were taken out while the other two were slid together in the far right corner. The whole place smelled of wood, of the wilderness, and of them.
"I asked Krueger to get some things for you. He'll be back shortly," he muttered into your ear as he guided you down to sit on the bed. Like you had been broken from a trance, you whipped your head up to look at him.
"You- what are you doing? You expect me to believe you've fallen for me- a broken omega you don't even know?" Your voice cracked, betraying your vulnerability despite your attempt to remain guarded.
"And- and what about Krueger? He's just going to be ok sharing you-" you were about break down when a cold hand rested on your collarbone from behind.
"You misunderstand the situation, Schatz."
You looked up at Krueger, who wrapped a blanket around you and pushed you down onto the matress. The blanket was pleasantly warm, like it had just been taken out of the laundry. He wasn't wearing his hood, letting you see the sharp angles of his features and the mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Our alpha wants to make us into a pack, Liebling," Krueger explained. Nikto visibly tensed at his words, but didn't deny it.
A pack. You, the unwanted, lonely little omega who could never find footing among your peers, in society, you were being asked to join a pack.
A place to fit in. To be cared for. To be wanted. You were wanted.
You rubbed your eyes and tried to hide your face in the soft fabric of the blanket. You tried to speak, but the only thing that escaped your mouth was a whine.
Krueger immediately started nuzzling his face into you, trying to soothe your anxiety and make you comfortable.
"Good little omega... it's ok, we're here now."
Nikto, on the other hand, was getting more blankets and pillows from a bin set next to the door and piling them around you.
Krueger pressed his nose into your scent gland and started taking deep breaths.
"Mein Gott, Schatz... I could get addicted to this," he murmured as he shifted his legs to straddle you. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and down between your legs.
"Krueger," Nikto said, his voice stern, "What do you think you're doing?"
Krueger made an annoyed noise and look back at Nikto.
"They've got to be mated into the pack, right? Why not get that done right away?"
Nikto grumbled and tugged Krueger off of you.
"I'm the alpha here, not you. I'll be the first to mate them," he said, and looked at you. "Besides, Y/N, you haven't even said yes yet."
You blinked. "Said yes to what...?"
Both of the men looked at you expectantly. "Will you join our pack?" Krueger asked.
You nodded instantly. "Yes. Yes. I- I want to be in your pack. Please."
Nikto quickly changed positions with Krueger to straddle you, his hands fiddling with the band of his sweatpants before pulling out his cock, already half hard and twitching. You gasped when you saw it- large and intimidating, and he was going to fit it inside you. He was going to do that a lot, considering you were his omega now.
Krueger had gotten behind Nikto, pulling both their pants down to their knees and was currently kneading the alpha's ass. Nikto huffed but let him continue as he busied himself with your own clothes.
As soon as your skin was bare to him, Nikto ran a finger slowly down to your clit, biting back a moan when he felt the softness of it. He ventured further into your wet folds, spreading them apart and reaching deeper, making sure you could take all of him.
When he was finally satisfied, he pressed the head of his now fully erect cock against your welcoming entrance and groaned in ecstasy at the sensation. Your body began to quickly respond to his touch, and you let out a squeal as he sank into you. In the back of your mind you registered something else making contact with you, just below your entrance, but he began to move before you had time to think about it.
Every thrust of his hips elicited a groan and pant from your throat. He began to go faster when a whine suddenly sounded from behind him, and you realized what exactly was rubbing against you.
Krueger was fucking Nikto's thighs just to get to you.
Nikto growled in response but didn't shove him off. Unbeknownst to you, he was loving the feeling of the beta's cock between his legs, and was only displaying performative aggression. To let the both of you know who was really in control.
You began to tremble as your neared your limit, legs twitching with adrenaline soon to be released. That's when Nikto covered your eyes and you could hear the metallic click of his mask coming off.
"N-nikto- I'm gonna- I'm so close-"
He only grunted in response, his chapped and scarred lips tracing over your neck before settling on your scent gland.
"Cum," he ordered, and you obeyed, muscles tensing and voice strained when he bit down, the shape of his teeth becoming etched into your skin. At the same time, a warmth filled your insides as he let the last of his seed spill into you.
As the high wore off, Nikto pulled out of your convulsing pussy and shifted positions to be underneath you, holding you in place as Krueger teased your poor clit and inhaled the scent of you and Nikto combined. He eagerly lapped up some of the fluids seeping out of you before aligning his cock up to your hole.
He moaned in a breathy voice as he began to pound into you like an animal, mumbling under his breath about feeling his alpha's seed in his omega's pussy.
It didn't take long before both of you were once again on the edge, moaning and shaking like you were in heat.
"Nng- alpha, let me cum inside, bitte," Krueger whined, punctuating the last word with a thrust. Nikto reached out and took Krueger's throat in his hand, squeezing just enough to make him feel light headed.
"That's it, beta. Fill them up. Show me how bad you needed this."
Krueger gasped and did as he was told, sinking as deep as your body would allow as your second climax took hold of you. You clawed wildly at his back, groaning as every muscle in your body went stiff and abruptly relaxed. His arms enveloped you as he pulled out, letting the sheets get soiled with the evidence of your pleasure.
You didn't expect to find yourself drifting off so quickly, but Nikto pet your head reassuringly as you closed your eyes. You didn't want to fall asleep, you wanted to shower your alpha and beta in a thousand kisses, thank them for everything they had given you, and promise your heart and soul to them, but all you could do was mumble little I love you's into Krueger's neck until you fell asleep.
Pt1 Pt2
Masterlist
Bro did I create a new sex position?
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