#i mean he's not in town for this one either

[brayneworms]

no, you hang up! | shota aizawa

kinktober day three: phone sex

word count. 2.2k

content. phone sex, reader and aizawa are coworkers, mutual masturbation, referenced age gap (once and it's minor + doesn't contribute to their relationship dynamic), dirty talk, no genitals for reader mentioned, gender-neutral reader, teasing (reader calls him names but it's all fairly playful), pre-relationship.

♪ agora hills — doja cat

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

You know it's him before you even look.

Your room is blue-dark, cold; the central heating must have turned off hours ago, still on to warm you to sleep even beneath two comforters. The recent winters were no joke—you walked around town at the moment with dry, blistering lips and dull skin and watery eyes. Even now, as you raise your head from the comfort of your sheets to the arid air, gooseflesh breaks over your skin.

Something pulses; it's what woke you in the first place. Some noise, some shift in the quiet. Outside it's still dark, not yet late enough for the light to start turning greyish and buoyant. It takes a muddled, groggy few seconds as the static in your head starts to clear that you realise it's your phone. 

You grope blindly for it; it's only vibrating, but you're a tepid sleeper at the minute, and it's more than enough to rouse you from whatever fitful slumber you'd managed to fall into. You have to be careful not to forget and turn on your side, put pressure on the sling that binds your arm as you reach under the sheets for your phone as it rings, rings, rings out. 

You slap a hand across the plastic case, lift it with a wince at the cold blue light that shines out like fingernails down a chalkboard. But yeah—when you read the name AIZAWA across the top of the screen in informal white capitals, you can't honestly say you're surprised.

You stab the green button on what's probably the eighth or ninth ring. "Yeah?"

There's a moment where he doesn't say anything. Where the line crackles the way the ozone layer does before the first strike of lightning. "...Did I wake you?"

"Yeah," you say again, returning to your back. Your bound arm gives a twinge of protest. 

"Sorry," he murmurs, in that dry tone of his, the one that rarely manages not to sound clipped and bored. "I guess I didn't realise how late it is."

You pull the phone away, glancing for the first time at the time in the right-hand corner. 02.11am. He did have a nasty habit of letting the night slip away from him—and his regular bouts of insomnia mean the lateness of the hour doesn't always impress upon him as it does for most people—but you suspect there may be more to it than that. There's a hesitance, a reluctance in his voice. 

"It's okay," you say finally. "Have to pee anyway."

The static rises as he huffs down the line. "How's the arm?"

"Feels like roadkill," you mumble, which doesn't make a lot of sense. But sue you, you're tired and the painkillers wore off in your sleep. "Why're you calling?"

Another crackle, a soft shift, like an out-of-tune radio adjusting frequency. "No... particular reason."

As the fatigue starts to clear from your heavy brain, you try to picture it. Shouta Aizawa—evidently not patrolling tonight, given the lack of cityscape din in the background of the call. It's quiet; you can maybe hear the low purr of a ceiling fan. Earlier, he'd shifted, and you'd heard the rustling of sheets. So, he's in bed. Lying there. Alone. Calling you.

He's pretty transparent. But to his credit, you don't think he's trying to be conspicuous. It's not incredibly in his nature. And it's not in yours to call him out on it, either, which he knows. It's why he does it.

Does, not like—like this is a regular thing, or anything. There have been one or two what you like to refer to as unrelated incidents over the eight-year course of your working relationship. A kiss at a New Year's party that lingered a moment too long, the time he took you home after a night at the bar with the other U.A. staff and you couldn't be in the staffroom alone with him for about a fortnight afterwards.

"Just missing the sound of my voice?" you ask, trying not to sound too coy. You don't want to make him skittish, and anyway you have a feeling he hates when you try to play up your (in your opinion) minor age difference. 

Another rustle, quieter, shorter. "...Something like that," he murmurs. His voice is soft, despite the timbre of it reaching down to some pit in his chest. 

"So should I talk?" you press. 

"Sure," he replies.

"About what?"

"Anything." He swallows. "Whatever... whatever you'd like to talk about."

You roll your tongue over your lower lip, suck it for a moment whilst you think. "I miss work," you start. Boring, mundane—testing the waters. "Being stuck at home sucks. And all my friends are my coworkers, so you're all at work every day. 'S pretty lonely."

"I see." There's a hint of strain in his voice, one that makes a dim chord strike somewhere low and pitiful inside you. You cross your legs over each other. "You know we'd visit if we had the time."

"Yeah, I know. I bought myself plants to give myself a reason to get out of bed," you say, casting a glance over at them as they rest on your windowsill. Their leaves wink and shiver in the current of cold breeze let in from the crack in your window. "I have to get up twice to water them. And then when I'm up, I think, I might as well get something to eat, exercise. Shower."

The last work is deliberately provocative, like pressing on a ripe bruise to see when it starts to hurt. Your reward is the faintest hitch of Aizawa's breath. 

"I talk to Hizashi every day," you continue, trying to keep your own voice even. The silence on the other end of the phone sounds deafening, your heartbeat starting to get uncomfortably forceful in your chest. "He texts a lot, about silly things. Keeping me up to date on stuff at the school. It's not the same as being there, but it's sweet that he tries." You pause. "I wish I could see everyone, though. Hey—can I see you?"

You let the question hang. Lining up a hunting rifle to a buck's head, letting it decide to stay or flee. Then,

"Hang on." It comes through gruff and short, but it makes your stomach twist all the same. A moment later, your phone hums with a notification. It hangs, a grey banner at the top of your screen. From Aizawa, with a photo attachment.

Your mouth goes dry as you stretch your thumb to tap it. It's a flash photo of a barely-lit room. You can see dark blue sheets and a grey comforter, and two legs in slouchy grey sweats, cocked apart, shoved halfway down his thighs. But in the crux of the photo—

"Jesus," you blurt before you can stop yourself. You hear Aizawa huff a noise on the other end of the phone, could be laughter, could be something else. It’s not like your entirely inexperienced with Aizawa’s cock, but that was a while ago and there’s a big difference between a drunken sticky fumbling in the dark and seeing it properly, in low warm light, heavy and hard with his hand wrapped around it. His fingers, thick and pale, you can’t help but want them on you. Circled around your ankle, maybe, pulling you apart for him with that quiet, unassuming strength of his. 

“Is that a good or bad reaction?” he asks, and the note of strain is thicker than ever. He sounds strangled. “Should I start worrying—about my job position?”

“Probably,” you answer. “But—no. How long’ve you been touching yourself?”

You hear his breath hitch again at the casual crudeness of your words. “How long’ve you been on the phone?”

A hot red flash zips through you. Before your head has given your body permission, you’ve laid the phone down flat on your chest, speakers buzzing through your shirt as you slip a hand beneath the waistband of your underwear. You go straight for what feels good, finding yourself already embarrassingly ready, shuddering as your fingers brush the most sensitive parts of yourself. 

“You’re such a creep,” you groan, head back against the pillow. Aizawa makes a quick, cut noise in the back of his throat. “One week without staring down my shirt in the staff room and you resort to this?”

“I don’t—” He cuts himself off, sighing shakily. “I don’t stare.”

He does fucking stare, it’s just quite subtle and it took you a while to notice. 

“Yeah, right.” Your fingers curl and search, press and glide. You’re hot and wet, for him, for the first glimpse of lust since your leave of absence began. “Bet you’d do anything for a taste.”

“...Maybe,” he stammers, breathing hard and quick against the phone. Now you can hear a soft stream of sounds coming through, a shlck-shlck-shlck that makes your blood hot and your brain fuzzy. “Maybe I’ve thought about it. Once or twice.”

“Dirty old man,” you say, half-babbling, and he groans low in his throat. You wish you could see him, God you can picture it—head thrown back, thick dark hair splayed against the rumpled pillows like a funeral shroud, sleep shirt ruched up to show the soft pale plane of his stomach dusted with dark spiralling hairs. You’d follow the pattern down to where the hair was thickest, push your hand through to where he was hard and hot as a brand for you. You didn’t get much time to play with him before, restless and lazy and horny off the cheapest champagnes you could order at the bar; he’d been inside you before too long and back out far too soon. 

“I’m n-not…” Hearing his resolve start to crack and fracture is the hottest thing in the world. Your own fingers work faster, jamming at the spots that make your legs gooey and your stomach start to tauten. “Isn’t my fault you look like that.”

Your giggle is breathless, half a moan. “Took that right out of the old perverts’ handbook,” you mutter. “Don’t break a hip on your way over here.”

“Shut up, shut up,” he grunts. “Damn it—shouldn’t have called—”

“I’m glad you did,” you say. Sweat is starting to collect in your armpits and the back of your neck. “Been so bored. This is the first time I’ve felt anything in weeks.”

His breath is ragged. “What do you feel?” he asks hoarsely. 

“Hang on.” The photo you send is conservative compared to his; just a shot of your hand disappearing into the waistband of your shorts. But you hear his stifled whimper, low in his throat, crackling with desperation. 

“God,” he hisses. “You have no idea what I’d do to you.”

“I have—some idea,” you mumble. 

“No, not like before,” he growls. “I was too drunk to do much of anything. What a waste. I’d never let you go if I had you now. I’d make you cum three times before I even thought about fucking you. My mouth, my hands, my thigh, anything.”

You imagine the scratch of his stubble on your inner thigh, or your own legs clamped around the thick muscle of his thigh, and nearly white out. You’re not in control, not of the way your hips cant desperately against your hand or the desperate moan his words pull from you, turning to stifle it into the pillow. 

“I want you inside me so bad,” you find yourself babbling, hot with embarrassment over the desperation in your voice. You sound close to tears. “Jesus—your hands, I’m always thinking about it. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He makes a keening, desperate noise, like a starving animal going for food. “Show me.”

You barely hesitate, ripping your shorts and underwear all the way off, and it’s only a few more desperate strokes of your fingers until you feel them flood over, your whole body shuddering and legs twitching. Your chest heaves and you blink up at the ceiling, withdrawing your hand from between your legs. Very awkwardly, you manage balance your phone enough in your slung hand to take a photo, the flash illuminating the mess between your thighs, the gleam of your own spend on your fingers. Before you can let embarrassment get a hold of you prematurely, you send the picture to Aizawa.

The result in instantaneous. He pulls a breath through his teeth. “God—fuck, look at you. So messy. God, I’m—” A choked-off moan, the breathiest noise you’ve ever heard from him as he cums. You lie there, warm all over, your skin singing as you listen to him fall apart on the other side of the phone. The speakers tickle your skin as you scrub a hand down your face.

After, you listen to his harsh panting breath. Then there’s a pocket of silence, the sort neither of you know how to break.

Finally, you cave. “...Feel better?”

“Don’t,” he mumbles. “This was… highly inappropriate.”

“Agreed.”

“I shouldn’t have called.”

“Probably not.”

There’s a pause. “...Is it fine? That I did?”

A smile touches your mouth. “Yeah, it is.”

He huffs. You picture him rubbing at his eyes, drawing the skin inward to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Well, then… yes. I do feel better.”

“Get off work early sometime,” you murmur. “I get so bored around here. Could use the company.”

You’re not sure why, but you think he’s smiling. “I’ll clear my schedule.”

taglist: @deltamel (+ask to join!!)

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? Part 5

In which two stars finally collide.

Warnings: alcohol use? if you squint. angst (bc of course) but fluffy (finally!!) Pairing: Lando X SainzSister!Reader Word Count: 2.6k words

(a/n: i know i said the timeline was going to be different but i couldn't keep you guys apart any longer. so ENJOY ;))

- What's A Soulmate? - Part 1 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2.5 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 3 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 4 - Master List

Monaco May 2024

“I think I’m going to ask her out.” Max says, leaning against the bar, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. 

Lando slides his gaze away from where you were standing across the ballroom casually chatting with Oscar and Lily, “What are you on about?” 

“Carlos’ sister.” He says, grin growing a bit wider. “We’ve been texting back and forth the last few weeks, she’s gorgeous and funny as fuck. I think I’m going to ask her out.” 

Max knew exactly what he was doing, goading a reaction out of Lando. He wasn’t lying though, you had been texting the Red Bull driver back and forth but it was nothing more than friendly banter, with you usually turning the conversation back to Lando and racing within a few minutes. Max knew what the rest of the paddock knew, even if you two idiots were too blind and too scared to admit what was right in front of your faces. So he was willing to goad Lando into action because he was really tired of watching his friend sulk and pout whenever you came into sight. 

After Miami, you had kept your distance again, too scared to even examine the feelings that dancing with Lando had brought to the surface. You couldn’t even think of how you felt watching him take the checkered flag either, the swell of pride enough to make your heart skitter to a stop. He wasn’t yours to be proud of, you reminded yourself at least three times a day now. You had to keep your distance to keep yourself safe. 

Which is how you find yourself carefully avoiding your best friend during what usually is your favorite race on the calendar: Monaco. Tonight, ahead of media day tomorrow afternoon, the Moto Club de Monaco was hosting a charity gala co-hosted by all ten teams on the grid. All the drivers and most of the staff were there, along with journalists and several a-list celebrities that were in town for the race on Sunday. Lando’s eyes were fastened to the black satin dress that you had chosen tonight though, utterly unable to tear his gaze away from the open backed satin that skimmed your every curve. 

“Like fuck you will.” Lando growled, shooting a glare at Max that was pure violence. 

“What do you mean?” Max’s voice was all feigned innocence, laughter sitting at the edge of his tone. “You two aren’t dating, are you?” 

“We’re just friends.” His tone is miserable thought and Max is loving every bit of this. 

“Friends don’t usually stare at friends like that, mate. But, if you’re not going to make a move, I think I will.” Max goes to push off the bar, fully intent on approaching you but he doesn’t even make it two steps before Lando’s yanking him back by the shoulder. Sure, Max could have resisted and probably would have won had he fought Lando even just a little bit but he knew he had made his point. “Oh, is something wrong?” 

Lando leveled a stare at his friend that had Max biting back a laugh. “Leave her the fuck alone, Verstappen.” 

Something in Lando snapped hearing Max talk about you like that. You’d been texting Max fucking Verstappen for weeks now? One of his biggest rivals on the track? After the mess that had been the club after his Miami win, you’d been cool towards him. He knew why, knew that he had pushed you too far with that almost kiss that he had tried. He still felt stupid, even now three weeks later, that he had tried it when he knew you weren’t there yet. But if you weren’t there with him yet, you sure as fuck weren’t going to be ‘there’ for Max either. 

No, he was done. Done waiting. Done being patient. Done waiting for you to get your head out of the clouds and realize that the two of you were…were what, exactly? Friends? More than friends? Whatever you were, he wasn’t having it anymore and shit needed to change and they were going to change tonight. He’d given you enough time and space but he had seen the way you looked at him in Miami when he had hugged you after the race. He had felt the way your fingers gripped at his as he led you to the dance floor at the club later that night. He had seen the way your breath had caught in your throat when he touched you. Nope, he’d had enough of this pretending. He’d lost you once due to his own stupidity and he wasn’t going to lose you again. 

Without so much as a goodbye to Max, Lando stalks across the crowded ballroom, ignoring several people saying hello to him or trying to strike up a conversation. He was sure Zak would have his head for that later, but right now he had one thing on his mind: you. 

You’re still lost in conversation with Oscar and Lily when he approaches. Your back is turned towards him, all that bare skin serving as a temporary distraction when Lando gets close. But he snaps back to reality quickly, reaching out to take hold of your wrist. Your eyes are wide, almost doe like, when he tugs on your wrist to get you to turn towards him. 

“We need to talk.” His voice is low, with an edge to it that has goosebumps skittering up your bare arms. 

Your brows hit your hairline as you stare back at him, unfamiliar with the angry man standing in front of you. “Hello, Lando, nice to see you too. I’m doing well this evening, thanks for asking. Everything okay?” The calm in your voice does nothing to sooth his angry nerves. Beside you, Oscar and Lily seem to pick up on what’s happening before you do, their smirks mirroring that of Max’s across the room. 

Lando’s shoulders droop at the snap in your tone. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me but we need to talk.” This time, his tone is softer, more placating. 

You turn to Oscar and Lily, who are watching the exchange between you two with bemused expressions. “Would you excuse us?” The couple nods and you turn back to Lando, “Lead the way.” 

Lando takes your hand in his, tangling his fingers with yours in a way that speaks to how he has this primal need to possess you and your attention right now. The firm grip he’s got on your hand sends your heart hammering against your ribcage. At the back of the opulently decorated ballroom, there’s a large balcony overlooking the marina and downtown Monte Carlo. The city is alive for the Grand Prix this weekend, tourists and residents alike spilling into the night. 

Lando leads you over to a quiet corner of the balcony, away from prying eyes and listening ears. The last thing he needed was this conversation to show up on the F1 gossip blogs. It’s cool out now, just cool enough that goosebumps litter your skin when the breeze off the water dances across your bare skin. The scent of the ocean tangles in your hair, sending the smell of your perfume cascading over Lando in a way that mesmerizes him for a brief moment. 

He notices your goosebumps then and before he can get anything else out, he shucks off the black tuxedo jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. You immediately shudder against the warmth of the garment, his body heat radiating out from the warm fabric. “Thank you.” You murmur before going quiet again. 

“Are you texting Max?” 

You tilt your head at Lando, genuinely confused by the question. “What?” 

“Verstappen. Are you texting him?” 

You don’t miss the pain in Lando’s eyes when he asks you the question. “A bit. Is that what this is about? Because McLaren doesn’t have a policy about fraternizing with anyone, McLaren employee or not.” 

Lando nearly groans, this was not going at all how he envisioned it. Not that he had envisioned how he wanted it to go at all. He was kind of flying blind here, all he knew that when Max had said he wanted to ask you out, he had seen red and wanted to get to you before he could. “I know that, I just…fuck. 

You reach out, fingers gripping his elbow, with a genuine look of concern on your face. “Lando, what’s going on?” 

“You’ve barely spoken to me since Miami.” 

You drop his gaze then, unable to look at him any longer. It was true. You were avoiding him because the way you had felt on that dance floor in Miami scared the daylights out of you. “I know.” You whisper, desperately wanting to take a step back. 

“I can’t take you hiding from me anymore.” The pain in his voice sends new waves of guilt coursing through you. 

“I’m scared.” Your voice is so quiet, Lando almost misses what you say but when it registers, a flood of guilt and anguish flow through his blood. “I’m scared to let you get close again because what happens when you start dating another girl and she gets jealous of me and you walk out of my life again? Your absence broke me, Lan. I don’t know if I could do that again.” 

Lando didn’t know if it was possibly to die from a broken heart, but hearing the confession fall from your lips was enough to shatter his heart into a million pieces. He steps forward then, so close you can smell his cologne again and realization rips through you. He’s wearing the cologne you got him back in 2019 for Christmas. Surly, he’d used it all up in those five years since. The familiar scent has your heart aching for a home that you didn’t even know existed. He reaches up, fingers dusting over your cheeks and jawline. He takes it as a win that you don’t step away from him and he nearly cries when your head tilts just the slightest bit into his touch. 

“I will never do that to you again, pretty girl.” He murmurs, enjoying the flush that blooms on your cheeks at the nickname. 

“How can you know that?” 

“Because there has always been three people in any relationship I’ve ever had since I met you. She was threatened by you when she made me choose and she had good reason to be.” 

All the air is stolen from your lungs at his words. “Lando…what?�� 

“I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing, not risking our friendship because I couldn’t fathom my world without you in it and then I went and fucked it all up and had to live my nightmare. I can’t do that again, I can’t risk losing you like that a second time. It was hell the first time and I won’t do it again.” 

Lando pauses then, taking another step closer so that your bodies are practically touching. You can feel the heat of his breath fanning across your skin, sending more goosebumps rioting across your skin. The look in his eyes as he takes you in, dragging his gaze from your eyes down to your lips in a slowly sensual move, has something clenching deep in your tummy. 

“Lan…” You start, but he holds up a hand. 

“No, let me finish. I know that if I don’t risk everything tonight by telling you how madly in love with you I am, I’ll spend the rest of my life in hell without you. I am wildly in love with you and have been since the moment I saw you.” 

The weight of his words hang between you, the confession stirring up something inside you that you fight to identify. How many nights had you spent wishing for this moment? Praying that your best friend would confess his love to you? You had a choice to make. The same choice you had in Miami. 

But this time, you make the right choice. 

Before your head has a chance to catch up with your heart, you find yourself leaning in towards Lando. You feel his breath catch in his throat as his fingers dig into the flesh at your waist, anticipation thrumming back and forth between your two bodies. 

The first time your lips touch his it feels like magic. You swear sparks ignite between your mouth and his, so charged is the air between you. Lando freezes for a split second, wholly unprepared for you to kiss him first but that beat of hesitation melts away quickly because the next thing he knows, his fingers are tangling in your hair and he’s hauling you to him. Your lips are as soft and delicious as he’d always imagined they’d be, the sweet taste of the red wine you’d been drinking an intoxicating poison to his soul.

 You’re so undeniably delicious, he can’t help but feast. First your lips, licking into your mouth that sends a purr thrumming from deep in your throat. That throat is his next target, as he drags hot, open mouth kisses across the your jaw down towards the hollow between your collar bones. The gold chain around your neck sends shivers up his spine when his tongue skates over the cold metal. 

“Lan.” You sigh as he laps his tongue over your suddenly heated skin, dragging your long fingernails through his mop of curls. Allowing yourself to indulge in just touching him, you rake your fingers through his hair an down the thick column of his neck, smirking when he shudders under your touch. 

A kiss had never felt so right so quickly in Lando’s entire life. The way you melted into his body, lithe form practically folding into him, set every nerve ending in his body simmering with need. It was like the two of you were made for each other, bodies lining up in sync without even a bit of effort from either of you. Your hands skate up his arms, the fabric of his starched white dress shirt crinkling under your touch while his slip from your hips to just above the rise of your ass, both of you exploring the bodies that had been so close but so out of reach for so long. For Lando, touching you felt strange but familiar at the same time, like having his hands on you was the entire reason he existed. You swear your body sighed the words ‘I’m home’ when Lando kissed you for the first time, suddenly understanding the phrase ‘soulmates’. 

When you pull back, Lando whines, whines at the sudden loss of your touch. His swollen lips turn down in a pout as he frowns down at you. 

“I love you, Lando Norris. Madly. Deeply. Irrevocably head over heels in love with you too.” You whisper, hoping the returned confession clears the storm clouds from his face. You were right because the moment the words leave your lips, Lando scoops you up, spinning you around as a laugh escapes him. 

When he sets you down, you look up at him like he’s hung the moon. And to you, he has. You don’t quite know what snapped in you moments ago but suddenly you realized that you were about to lose the most important person in your life once again and this time, it would be your fault. You both had been so young back then, barely out of your teens, when big decisions with even bigger consequences were made. But life worked in silly ways and it seemed as if the universe had decided your story wasn’t done yet. 

“Take me home?” You murmur in Lando’s ear when he pulls you closer to him once again. 

“Anything for you, pretty girl.” He says, smirk pulling at his lips as he reaches for your hand. 

Story Replies: User938 EXCUSE ME MA'AM YOU CAN'T DROP THIS ON US AND RUN. explain yourself! User9209 mom and dad together fr this time!? CarlosSainz did you two finally get your shit together?! >>>LittlestSainzSis STFU carlos. LandoNorris fuck we look good together baby. >>>LittlestSainzSis <3 pls come back to bed

Tag List:

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(I hand did all the tags this time instead of copying and pasting. fic authors how tf are you organizing your tag list so it works!?!? WAH)

[sergeantneko]

Hi there! I'm Neko, and I found your post as a reblog from a friend of mine. I've played all of the 3D zelda games, and I write fanfics for the series. I'll answer these as best I can!

1: I've never really thought about it, but if I were to do so, I would put Skyward Sword in Spring, Breath Of The Wild in Autumn, Ocarina of Time in Summer, and Twilight Princess in winter.

2: Assuming you mean 2D as pixelated. I haven't played any of the 2D retro titles (pretty much any of the pixelated ones), however I have played all of the 3D top-down ones. I'm gonna pick one of those, if that's okay? Defo either Link Between Worlds or Spirit Tracks.

3: Skyward Sword! She's SO FRICKIN' CUTE.

4: That's a really hard one. Of the ones I've played, I'd say Phantom Hourglass.

5: I cannot justify picking just one soundtrack, so I'll pick out a few of my favourites instead. Colgera's battle theme (ToTK), Ganon's battle theme (OoT, That 23/16 time signature is insane and I love it), Yuga Ganon battle theme (ALBW, same reason, song is set to 7/8 time signature and it's just as insane), Tarrey Town theme (BoTW), Tal Tal Heights (Link's Awakening Remake), and so many more that elude me.

6: Nope! Bring it on, I love a challenge!

7: There are too many to list, but there is one that I love that others don't. That being the Water Temple from Ocarina of Time. Most people hate it because it's confusing, but I saw it as an experience. And that experience was fucking good, for me anyway.

8: Spirit Tracks for sure. The music, the story, I love it. The controls are not fun, and using the flute was fun if flawed, but everything else makes that tolerable.

9: Hmmmm... I'm gonna go with Tingle on this one.

10: The hookshot! It can get you to many places, and it has been a staple in traditional zelda games! So fun shooting it out and then zipping to the place it sticks.

11: That ones a toss up. I love all of his incarnations. I think Wind Waker is top due to him actually having some sort of humanity. He just wanted what was best for his people, and I can understand his plight. However, the way he went abouy it was wrong.

12: Ocarina of Time. It was the first Zelda game I ever played. And I was enthralled the entire time. Since then, I have managed to play every 3D Zelda game up to now, and it's my favourite franchise.

13: Breath of The Wild. The character designs and lore is incredible. Not much more to say there, really. Nintendo did an amazing job with this entry, and the one after it too.

14: Master Sword. No question.

15: Gerudo Desert, specifically the one from Breath of The Wild.

16: I don't really have one, they're all great.

17: Twilight Princess. It's my favourite in the series for a reason, and atmosphere is a big factor.

18: Again, Twilight Princess. Quite the dark game, especially in contrast to other entries.

19: Same as above, for the same reasons.

20: Same as above.

21: Skyward Sword! The painterly style is fucking awesome. If you're further away from an object, the shader makes the object look watercolored. They improved that effect in the HD remaster on switch, and it's beautiful.

22: I don't really have a favourite. They're all good!

23: Spiritual Stones please.

24: Either Ocarina of Time or Twilight Princess for items.

25: Midna.

26: Spirit Tracks.

27: Breath of The Wild. Mainly cause it pertains to being a breath of fresh air for the series as a whole with it being open world, and the whole place being mostly wilderness at this point.

28: Skyward Sword, up to a point.

29: Hookshot!

30: Ocarina of Time title theme.

31: City In The Sky from Twilight Princess. The entire dungeon is the "I am confusion" gif.

32: Breath of the Wild.

33: Mix of both. It wouldn't be a Zelda game without either.

34: Hmmm... That's a tough one. I think overall I might have had the most trouble with the second Ganon battle that takes place within Hyrule Castle in Echoes of Wisdom.

35: I didn't really have much issue with any of them except for Demise in Skyward Sword. Took me a little while to learn his patterns.

36: that one's between Twilight Princess and Skyward Sword. Both cinematic games, and both incredible in their own way.

37: I have no idea. If I had to give an answer, the Likelike's are weird.

38: The Dead Hand, as well as the ReDeads and Gibdos from Ocarina of Time. Both EXTREMELY creepy.

39: Echoes of Wisdom.

40: Tingle.

41: I have three. Song of Storms, Serenade of Water, and Requiem of Spirit.

42: The Couple's Mask.

43: Goron Mask.

44: The Anju and Kafei quest.

45: Tarrey Town.

46: Skyward Sword HD

47: Each game fulfills something different for me, and so I can't say that any one game is the most fulfilling for me.

48: I love the one incorporated in Breath of The Wild and Tears of The Kingdom. Amazing shading style that blends Cel shading with semi-realistic graphics.

49: Fairy.

50: Modern Hylian Shield, BoTW and ToTK style.

Hope this gives a little bit of insight into my views on the series!

🌟 TLOZ asks 🌟

1. Is there a Zelda game(s) that you associate with each season or time of year?

2. Favourite 2D title?

3. Favourite incarnation of Zelda?

4. Least favourite entry in the series?

5. Favourite LOZ soundtrack?

6. Is there a Zelda game that intimidates you/looks too hard?

7. Favourite dungeons?

8. Most underrated Zelda game?

9. Least favourite character in the series?

10. Favourite item?

11. Favourite Ganon characterization?

12. Which Zelda game has the most sentimental value to you?

13. What Zelda game, in your opinion, has the best character design?

14. Master Sword, the Four Sword, Great Fairy's Sword, the Koholint Sword, or the Biggoron Sword?

15. Favourite location within Hyrule?

16. Favourite location outside of/parallel to Hyrule (Termina, Lorule, Holodrum, Subrosia, the Dark World, Labrynna, the Great Sea, etc)?

17. Most atmospheric game?

18. Which Zelda game feels most mature to you?

19. Which Zelda game has the darkest story to you?

20. Favourite 3D title?

21. Prettiest Zelda game?

22. Favourite incarnation of Link?

23. The Pendants of Virtue, the Spiritual Stones, or the Goddess Pearls?

24. Game with most impressive/useful lineup of items?

25. Favourite companion (Midna, Ezlo, Navi, etc)?

26. Favourite handheld title?

27. Game with the best title (Breath of the Wild, Twilight Princess, Link's Awakening, etc)?

28. Most wholesome Zelda game?

29. Favourite item to use (aside from the sword & shield)?

30. Favourite title theme from a Zelda game?

31. Hardest dungeon played?

32. Game with the best map design?

33. Do you prefer puzzles or combat?

34. Game with the hardest boss?

35. Game with the hardest final boss?

36. Which game had the most engaging story, in your opinion?

37. Least favourite enemy?

38. Creepiest enemy?

39. Which Zelda game, in your opinion, had the most satisfying ending?

40. Most out-of-place thing in the series?

41. Favourite ocarina song?

42. Favourite non-transformation mask from Majora's Mask?

43. Favourite transformation mask from Majora's Mask?

44. Hardest sidequest in the series?

45. Best sidequest in the series?

46. Favourite remake/remaster (Ocarina of Time 3D, The Wind Waker HD, Link's Awakening for the Switch)?

47. Most fulfilling Zelda game?

48. Favourite graphical style within the games (cel-shading, realistic, 16-bit, etc)?

49. Favourite thing to keep in a bottle?

50. Favourite shield?

[littlereddream]

Of Whiskey and Venom

A/n: cowboy Jason Todd x Reader, f!reader, there will be multiple parts to this because I can’t help myself.

Owing debts to outlaws means playing dangerous games. You know that, well and true. When Carmine Falcone finds out that you don’t have the money to pay him back, he offers you one final method of payment. Your debt would be forgiven in its entirety, so long as you walk yourself to the notorious Red Hood’s camp and surrender yourself with the claim that you’re part of the Falcone’s.

In Gotham, big of a town as it is, word gets around to people fast. Whether it was through gossip or the newspaper boys hard at work, most things never stayed secret.

Usually, it was annoying. Last year, some nosy neighbor had discovered that you’d managed to get your hands on some quality eggs, courtesy of a friend of yours down South. Within the week, almost half of your neighbors had collected at your door at some point or another to ask for some. Would be a shame not to share, they’d said.

Usually, the knowledge of any of your personal business getting out would set you on edge. It’s never been any good to you, only ever causing trouble.

Today, you find cause to be grateful for the quickly spread word. If not for Gotham’s tendency to whisper in each other’s ears, your neighbor would never have come to knock on your front door that morning, all out of breath with urgency all over her.

“You’ve gotta get out of here,” she’d panted. “Run. Run and don’t come back!”

You’d quickly invited her inside, checking outside left and right before shutting the door.

“Mary, the hell’s gotten into you?”

But all she’d done is deliver a soft smack across your shoulder.

“Take this seriously! Darlin, it’s Falcone.” You still remember the ice that had trailed its way down your spine. “My husband, Rupert, told me that he’d overheard some of his boys talking about it. He’s lookin for you.”

You forced yourself to shake your head, pushing back the instinct to freeze up entirely.

“Mary, it just ain’t possible. Falcone and I, we- all of my business with him has been settled.”

“Yes, well, he doesn’t seem to agree. Now, go on! Pack your things. I’ve taken a horse from the stable for you. She’s a fast girl, just old. Won’t nobody come looking for either of you.”

In the end, you’d had enough sense to listen to her, but there was no packing your bags fast enough to escape Falcone. Midway through packing food for your trip, long after Mary had left, you’d heard a different kind of knock at your door. Demanding. Angry.

That whole interaction felt like ages ago to you now, including the conversation you’d had with the man. He’d explained it to you simply, tone so light you’d hardly believe the weight of the words he cracked into your skin, like a cane to a horse.

Apparently, all that time ago when you’d paid back your debt to the man who’d come to collect it from you, there had been a breach in loyalty within Falcone’s gang. Your debt collector had taken the liberty of deciding his own pay, stealing nearly half of the money you’d paid for himself rather than handing over the full amount.

Despite it being an error within his own system, Falcone refused to hear your bargaining. You’d even gone so far as to promise him that money again, all you’d need was a month.

He’d shut you down quicker than you could finish making the offer.

Instead, Falcone offered you a counter proposal.

It’s that counter proposal that has you currently making the solo hike to the Red Hood camp, handcuffs digging uncomfortably into your wrists set in front of you.

What Falcone offered to you went as such: After one of Falcone’s newer men went out and shot a man from the Red Hoods, Hood demanded to be delivered one of Falcone’s own as a leveling of justice and show of goodwill. A gesture to calm the waters between them, since the last thing anybody in town wanted was for the two most dangerous gangs to have it out for each other.

Your job is to be that token of goodwill, to march your way into that camp and declare yourself as a surrender member of the Falcone’s to fulfill their demands.

Do so, and he’d make the kind decision not to take the life of the neighbors that tried to aid in your attempted escape.

The camp is far into the woods, well outside Gotham itself, causing your dress to catch in every grown out bush and twig. Your feet ache from walking so long in the wrong shoes, while your hands haven’t stopped shaking since you were forced to leave home.

There is no getting out of this, you know that. If you run away now, if Falcone finds out that you didn’t settle this debt for him, there would be no corner of the earth far enough for you to hide. It’s either he kills you, or you take your chances with a gang so successfully underground, not even law enforcement knows the real name of its leader. Doesn’t mean they’re any less brutal, though.

You’re going to die, all because Falcone’s men can’t do their jobs, whether that be collecting debts or not shooting the wrong damn people.

There’s a point where the path you walk narrows out, becomes thin and difficult to follow. At some point, you can hardly tell which direction you’re supposed to head, saved only by the spots of recent horseshoe markings in the dirt.

It feels like any second, you’ll be surrounded by people with rifles pointed right at your head. With each step, your breathing further shallows into something unintentionally quieter. A bush rustles to your right, and you feel like an idiot for flinching back when a rabbit runs right out and past you.

After so long walking, you’re starting to think that Falcone could’ve been wrong about the location of the camp. After all, this part of the woods look completely wild, utterly untouched if not for the occasional broken twig or trail marking.

“Who’s there?” A voice shouts out.

Then there’s a gun being pointed to the side of your head. Well, at least you know that if there’s ever an award for jinxing yourself, you’d win it. Or maybe not, considering you’re very likely to be killed within the next few minutes.

“Carmine Falcone’s debt,” you say simply, proud that you’d managed to keep the waiver out of your voice.

There’s a pause in the air, before you can see the man’s mouth pull into a grimace out of the corner of your eye. “That so?” He mutters. “Right. Well, you’re going the wrong way. Come on.”

The redhead, whoever he is, takes great care not to spook you. His rifle, attached to a belt over his shoulder, is exchanged for a single handgun, one just within reach tucked into a holster. The hold he has on your forearm is surprisingly careful, less there to keep you from running and more to guide you through the confusing twists and turns of the woods.

“Watch your step,” he warns. “Hood is gonna be pissed.”

“Why?” You risk asking.

So long as the debt is settled, it seems to you that Hood would be getting everything he specified in his deal. You’re the one being screwed over here.

“Cause, it looks to me like Falcone sent over somebody he doesn’t mind losing instead of an honorable trade.”

You raise a brow. “Who says I ain’t a high value exchange?”

The redhead snorts. “Are you kiddin? You don’t got a single gun-wielding callus on you. We lost one of our best that day, and Falcone sent us you.”

A pause.

“No offense.”

“None taken,” you grumble, bitter for reasons you don’t even know yourself. Maybe it’s because you’re being completely screwed over here, but who’s to say?

It’s not long before the overgrown woods level out into a large clearing, the man weaving you past hitched horses to reveal a large camp. It’s nothing like what you’d expected, hearing what you have about the Red Hoods. Vile, vicious, and mean.

Come to find out their camp looks like an isolated meadow, sun shining down on their colorful tents. From where you’re standing, you can see a young child playing with an even younger puppy. Just past that, there’s a table of people gathered around two women who look to be playing five finger fillet.

The redhead calls out to an older woman to your left who you hadn’t even noticed, sitting quietly as she polished a hunting knife on her pants. What you’d do to be wearing pants instead of a dress right now.

“Ma Gunn,” he greets. “Got a moment?”

“Depends, Roy. More of your trouble?” She says pointedly, but Roy only laughs.

“Not this time. Just got some business to discuss with Hood. Mind keeping the young lady here some company?”

Ma Gunn waves Roy off with a free hand, sheathing the knife and standing.

“Go.”

And then you’re alone with her. Ma Gunn’s eyes are fixed on the metal binding your hands together.

“In some trouble with the law, dear?” She raises a brow. You’re not quite sure what to say to deny it, but some part of your face must look panicked because she breaks out into a quiet laugh. “Relax. We’re hardly the kind of people to judge you for having lawmen after you, not that we’d have any right to.”

Right. Outlaws.

“Besides, you don’t seem like the gunslinging type.”

“Roy said the same,” you tell her.

She snorts. “Course he did. How’d you end up here anyway? Tell me you’re not thinking of joining in. I’m telling you, it might seem nice at first, but it’s nothin worth putting up with Bizarro’s cooking.”

“No, not joining in. I’ve got a debt to settle between Mr. Falcone and Hood.”

It’s within an instant that the woman’s face changes, much more grim than just a moment ago. She looks at you like you’ve already been damned, no shot at survival left to you.

Roy’s back already, tipping his hat in thanks towards Ma Gunn, whose eyes still haven’t left your cuffed wrists.

“Hood wants to see you. Come on, I’ll take you over.” Roy doesn’t touch you this time, just hovers his hand over his lower back like he can force you to move telepathically. You do.

Together, you’re approaching one of the biggest tents in the camp, far in the back. Entirely red, though what else did you expect?

You stop in front of the fabric curtains.

“I think it’s best if you head in alone. Good luck.”

Right. With a final deep breath, you duck into the tent. It feels like stepping into your own casket.

You find that the inside looks bigger than the outside, complete with a large cot, a table surrounded by chairs, and a small bookshelf. At the table sits a man you can only assume is Hood himself, feet resting on the wood as he leans back in his seat. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, gambler hat set on the edge of the table just by his boots.

He’s surprisingly handsome, sharply contrasting all the stories people tend to spread about him. When he’s not wearing a bandana, he’s said to be grotesquely scarred, some even say to the point of deformity. The man is front of you is very much not that, all sharp features with the only visible scars on his face being one over his lower lip and the other down across his brow.

You step forward into the tent, and the wood beneath your feet creaks. Quick as gunfire, narrowed green eyes level with yours. There’s a hint of disbelief in them, like he can’t quite believe his eyes.

“By Gotham, that fool was telling the truth.” You hear him say, gruff and mumbled.

It takes more effort than you’d ever admit to speak without breaking down right there. You’re practically speaking to your executioner right now.

“Hood, right? Carmine Falcone sent me to-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know why he sent you.” Hood drags a hand down his face. “Well, isn’t this just a mess.”

With a tired sigh, Hood calls you forward with a beck of his fingers. Once you’re at the other end of the table, he motions for you to take a seat. You do, albeit on unstable legs. It’s a miracle your knees don’t just buckle when you move to sit.

“So, tell me. This Carmine’s idea of a joke?”

“No, I-“

“He think it’s funny to send me a girl he picked up from who knows where? Send her to her death just to get off clean?”

“If you’d just-“

“Come on, doll. I wanna know. Why the hell is Falcone sending me you instead of what I asked for?”

Hood’s eyes are cold as steel, but you’ve got the strange feeling that his anger isn’t entirely directed at you. Still, better not to assume.

“I am what you asked for. You weren’t cheated.”

Hood snorts, entirely humorless. “You? Now, forgive me for my doubts, but I’m having a hard time-“

This time, you’re cutting him off. “I am,” you insist.

Hood pauses to look at you. Really look at you. There’s an amusement settling in his posture that you don’t like, one that promises nothing good for you.

“Right. Well, who am I to tell you what you are or aren’t? Far be it from me.”

He’s reaching for his hip, unholstering the revolver strapped there and setting it down on the table. You watch the motion as he does it, staring down the weapon between the two of you like it could shoot you without its handler ever touching it.

“This gun here? This is one of my most prized possessions. If this whole tent were to catch fire right now, everything I hold dear tucked inside, this gun would be the only thing I’d bother savin.”

He’s watching your reactions carefully, so you're just as careful to keep your expression back. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, so better he not find anything at all.

“Now, I personally believe actions speak much louder than words. I won’t sit here and call you a liar for telling me you’re a gunslinging outlaw straight from Falcone’s best, but I will tell you to prove it to me.”

Hood nudges the gun closer to where you’re sitting. “So go on and prove it. Take my own gun and shoot me. Eliminate any threat I pose to you within seconds, selfish and brutal.”

You can do nothing but sit there in stunned silence, hands tightly gripping the fabric over your lap. “Hood, I don’t-“

“I insist.”

Your hands shake when you bring them up with a sheepish grin. “Can’t exactly do that with cuffed hands, mister.”

Hood waves you off. “I’ve done worse things than shoot a man with my hands cuffed. Come on, Miss, prove it to me. Unless you can’t.” He tilts his head at the end.

To kill a man, to take a life. You can’t just do that. As is sensing your inner turmoil, Hood offers you a sarcastic pout.

“Weighing on your conscience, is it? Well, if it helps you any, it wouldn’t be a good man you’re killing. I’ve committed too many crimes to be clean of anything. All you’ve gotta do is put a bullet between the eyes of a man who might just kill you unless you do. Not so much of a choice, is there. I sure know what I’d do, if I was you.”

Hood is egging you on, pushing you to prove him wrong. He wants you to do this, wants you to pick up that gun and send a bullet straight through him. He wants you to because he knows you won’t.

The worst part is that he’s right.

You turn your head away from the gun, away from him. It’s answer enough.

You see Hood nod slowly out of the corner of your eye, reaching for his gun to holster it with a rustle and a click. He sets his feet back down to the ground, crossing his arms over the table to lean forward.

“Alright. So tell me again now. Why did Falcone send you?”

The change in tone has you thrown for a loop. Within seconds, the pressing intimidation from before is gone, now much softer in comparison.

So you tell him everything. From your neighbor at your door, from your debt to Falcone, the threats he’d made, all the way to the present moment. This time, Hood doesn’t interrupt you once. He listens carefully, nodding at all of the right places to each relevant point. When you finish, he simply asks you if there’s anything else worth mentioning. At the shake of your head, Hood stands.

“I’ll have someone let Falcone know that his exchange has been well received. So long as he thinks you’re with us now, no one you know will be bothered. As for you, you’ll be free to do whatever you want with your days, just as long as you’re here during the nights. How’s that work for you?”

For a moment, all you can do is stare. Then, ever so cautiously, you dare to ask, “you’re not gonna kill me?”

Hood shrugs. “I have no reason to. This way, you’ll be safe and I won't be bothered by Falcone trying to buy back my truce.”

“But what about your whole…you know.”

Hood raises a brow at you, urging you to continue.

“You know. The whole ‘eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth’ thing.”

Hood grins, toothy and predatory. “Trust me, doll, I’ll still be getting something back from Falcone. I tend not to forgive easy. Hands out for me.”

Quicker than you can process his intentions past putting out your hands, Jason is drawing out his revolver and shooting the chain between your cuffs quicker than you can flinch. He ignores your stunned expression, clipping his weapon back to himself.

“I’ll ask the girls to get you some decent clothes and set you up a tent. Pleasure meeting you.”

Without another word, he’s exiting the tent and leaving you to stare at the chain that used to link your wrists, now scattered into tiny pieces of metal across wood.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Obvs it wouldn't happen because imprints don't work that way, but what if Jacob imprinted on CARLISLE?

You're hilarious, anon, that's what you are.

Alright, let's do this.

Jacob Imprints on Carlisle Cullen: A Timeline

The thing is, Jacob doesn't notice for a fairly long time. Remember that Jacob hardly ever meets any of the Cullens until fairly late in the series. In Twilight and New Moon, before shifting, he was extremely embarrassed by his father's superstitious attitude that's so bad it's to the point where he's told the entire tribe that none of them are to go to Forks hospital (which as the closest hospital in a rural area, and one with a now very qualified surgeon that they won't otherwise be able to get to for several hours, this is... a very extreme choice that speaks to just how seriously the Quileute view the Cullen problem).

Jacob meets Edward once in Twilight, at a distance, when he tells Bella at Prom "So... my dad told me to break up with your vampire boyfriend and that the spooky tribe will be watching you :/ ah ha ha ha ha ha".

And then the Cullens are gone until the end of New Moon, at which point Jacob only runs into Carlisle Cullen in Eclipse when the shapeshifters and the Cullens have agreed to join forces to stop the newborn army and to have their solitary training session where they take this seriously.

The Cullens Jacob gets to have lovely interactions with beforehand are Alice at the end of New Moon (in which Alice has some choice words) and Edward who is... Edward.

But not the others.

(The movies where the Cullens and wolves run into each other hunting Victoria, and get into a catfight, is just the movies and was an entirely ridiculous scene.)

What this means is that we've gone through all of Twilight, New Moon, and most of Eclipse. Jacob is pining after Bella, in this torrid love triangle with Edward the blood sucking demon as his rival, has kissed Bella, and has spent an entire novel trying to convince Bella that she's in love with him and "also, don't become a vampire" without much luck on either front.

And now, the worst thing in the world happens.

The Moment

Very reluctantly, the Cullens and shapeshifters have both agreed that the threat is now so large that neither of them can contain it as an individual group. The Cullens have been rebuffed by the Denali who only agreed to help if they got the chance to commit genocide/have their revenge for the death of Laurent.

The shapeshifters, on the other side, hear that a horde of vampires the size of which they have never encountered before (when they're having issues dealing with just one, only one, vampire) is going to descend upon the town of Forks and, with extreme sadness, agree to a) help out the Cullens b) agree that they need the Cullens help on this one.

So, they get this training session (in which Bella shows up because... unclear why she's there, she really shouldn't have been there/really made the impression that they were flaunting the Bride of Dracula in the shapeshifter's faces) and the Cullens all watch as the wolves show up, more than they had ever suspected, Bella oohs over what a big red wolf Jacob is and--

I imagine they freeze, because they were wolves at the time, so they were all in the wolfy hive mind. This means every single one of them knows the second Jacob imprints and get to process it along with him.

Suddenly, Carlisle Cullen is Jacob's gravity, his reason for existence, his everything.

And he's a vampire.

Who is 300 years old. And physically twenty-three years old.

And he's married.

And Edward is right there hearing every thought the hive mind is having.

I imagine Emmett warily asks Edward what's going on. Is everything okay, or are they all about to kill each other and the treaty's off? Edward can't answer because. No. No.

"Seriously, Edward," I imagine Rosalie says, "What's happening?"

(Alice sure wishes she could see what was going on right now, at all, she sure wishes she could help here. Man, it would be great if she could use her gift and wasn't BLOCKED BY FUCKING WOLVES. WOULDN'T THAT BE GREAT?! WOULDN'T IT BE GREAT IF SHE HAD VISIONS THAT COULD TELL HER WHAT'S GOING ON RIGHT NOW?!)

The wolves don't want to answer either as none of them want to admit this is happening (except for Jacob who's still too brain scrambled to react yet).

Jacob, I imagine breaks first. He shifts (and he is... sadly... naked... for this...) and runs over to Carlisle Cullen, the center of his new existence, and happily explains that his universe has just turned on its head and whatever Carlisle Cullen needs from him, JACOB IS THERE, MAN.

Carlisle... doesn't... need... anything...

He's also very confused and alarmed. And can Jacob please put on his clothes?

Edward, reluctantly, explains to his father that Jacob has just er imprinted on him. It's a thing. No, it doesn't necessarily mean romantic love (probably) but Jacob is now Carlisle's.... person. But Jacob's clearly wrong because Carlisle is married and he doesn't need a new son or a friend or anything.

HE HAS HIS FAMILY.

Bella, meanwhile, is shocked, shocked and--confused--and--hurt. Was Jacob gay/bisexual this whole time? But no, Edward just said it didn't have to be romantic. But Bella's also had it explained to her that the imprinter is supposed to be the most important person in the imprintee's life. Sam left Leah so that he could marry Emily when he imprinted on her, and even if it is platonic--isn't Bella supposed to be Jacob's best friend? Wasn't he just telling her how in love with her he was? Hasn't he been the sun in her life?

But because of this single second of imprinting, from a corner Bella never expected... that's done now. Jacob won't be in love with her anymore, all that talk of Bella being in love with him won't matter at all, they'll be less close friends at most and...

And maybe that's a good thing? She's with Edward, she's marrying Edward in a few weeks, she wants to be with Edward. If Jacob gives up, or imprints, then they can stay the way they are without Jacob wanting her to give up on Edward.

It's just that Jacob's most important person will be Edward's vampire dad...

I imagine Sam shifts at this point as... the situation has changed a bit. And tries to get Jacob to calm down and, "We need to discuss this, Jacob" but Jacob isn't having it as the most important person in his life is standing there, staring at him, and clearly wants nothing to do with him.

And Jacob realizes--there's not any room for him. The man has a wife, he has children, WHAT IS JACOB SUPPOSED TO DO?! YOU NEED A BEST FRIEND, DOC?!

Everyone would really love to call off this training session by this point but... that vampire army is coming and they're running out of time.

They have to do this.

They do a speed run and then rush back to their prospective homes where they grill Edward (who has the wonders of spying telepathy) about what the fuck imprinting means and what's happening.

The shapeshifters go home to be extremely upset and try to reason with Jacob who... given how he acted in canon with Renesmee, probably runs to the Cullen's house screaming "CARLISSSSSSSSSSSSSSLE" out of terror that they'll leave in the middle of the night because of this.

Jacob immediately plots how he can stop the Cullens/Carlisle from leaving Forks. In this case, showing Charlie his wolf form would do nothing, as Bella's not the one turned and in theory they could just leave her behind and run if Jacob outed them. Similarly, getting Bella to end up with him and not turn would mean the Cullens would just vamoose.

Jacob concludes, in a moment of horror, the only way to guarantee the Cullens stay is if Bella and Edward get together and then Bella has to stay. Bella's what's connecting them to Forks, what's keeping them from disappearing, even what drew them back in the first place.

And he's right to be concerned as the Cullens are discussing just this. They have to stay through this newborn fight, but then... if it weren't for Bella they'd be leaving as quickly as possible and even then... maybe Carlisle and Esme should just go on ahead? Edward and Bella, do you have to get married right here in Forks/invite everyone from Forks?

Unfortunately, due to that wedding and the pesky detail of inviting Bella's friends and relatives, they really are stuck for at least a few weeks, until Bella and Edward can go off to college.

Jacob's Plan

Jacob then has a few short weeks to convince Carlisle Cullen that he's the greatest thing since sliced bread, he totally needs Jacob in his life, and pffff wife shmife.

So, Jacob does things like just... show up at the Cullen house. He just shows up. And at the hospital, and everywhere, trying to prove how cool he is to Carlisle who is just sad about all of this. He's so sad.

There has been much querying in both parties of "are we sure there isn't a way to get rid of this?" and both the Cullens and shapeshifters had concluded "no, not really, we don't even understand what the fuck this is".

And while Carlisle really wants to just up and leave... it sounds like he'd cause Jaocb mental anguish unheard of for the rst of his existence if he doesn't throw him some bone.

"We can go... fishing..."

(Bella was right in that Jacob has dropped her like it's hot. She hasn't seen him since the training.)

At the battle, instead of guarding Bella's tent in the night, Jacob insists on being where the rest of the Cullens are. Yeah yeah, Edward, have fun with wifey.

(This is not fun as Bella nearly freezes to death in the tent, and as there's no Jacob to keep her warm, Edward just has to sit there, panicking, as he sadly wishes he could warm Bella up himself buT hE's a MonStEr)

There is no "kiss me or I'll kill myself", Bella doesn't even see Jacob when the fighting happens or afterwards. I imagine Jacob's still hurt, (and gets quality time with Dr. Cullen and morphine as he recovers, yay!) and Bella... barely gets to see him then either.

At least Edward's upset about this too and annoyed, if for very different reasons.

Bella finds herself just... ending up with Edward, with no closure on how that Jacob thing would have gone if it would have gone everywhere. Jacob's not even promising to never speak to her again/kill her on sight anymore, he doesn't even seem to care about vampirism as all he wants to do is hang out with Carlisle Cullen, which is.... good? This is good? Is this good?

Jacob doesn't run out of town before the wedding, he's right there, the whole time, hanging out with Carlisle (who is gently trying to tell Jacob that, you know, the Cullens will have to leave this place and your whole family is here so you should... try... to get over this or be... um... long distance).

When Bella becomes pregnant, Jacob only cares that this is clearly stressing Carlisle out who is now supposed to figure out how to birth her demon, alien, horrifying spawn. Gosh, Bella.

(Bella misses her best friend).

And...

Damn.

Basically the rest of the series happens, as Jacob still protects pregnant Bella as he has to protect Carlisle, except that Jacob is imprinted on Vampire Dad and Bella's trying to have a very brave face about this.

SHE AND JACOB ARE STILL FRIENDS! (He just doesn't talk to her anymore...)

[annwrites]

⸻ corsets & clockwork one-shot collection

· pairing: assassin!jacaerys x fem!reader · type: one-shot (collection) · summary: to get out of the group apartment for the night, you go onto the rooftop, but jace of course follows you up. · word count: 677

Zepplins and airships soar along slowly through the cool night air.

You sit perched atop the ledge of the brick rooftop of the apartment complex, watching them idly.

You then look down and study the faraway cobblestone streets below, watching as gas lanterns flicker, warding away the looming dark that engulfs narrow alleys and alcoves people skulk through and tread along. The occasional clop of hooves echoes as wooden and metal wheels roll along, taking passengers to their destinations for the evening.

It being this time of night, however—the large clock in the town square near to tolling midnight—there are only few places they could be headed to.

Casinos, perhaps. Or brothels. Or, to the docks to do business which would otherwise be deemed unseemly were it to take place in the light of day instead. If not illegal, most likely.

You're interrupted from your assumptions by the soft scuff of boots, but don't bother with turning your head.

You've everyone's gaits down-pat now, including his.

Especially his, maybe.

You ignore that fact.

"Get down."

You roll your eyes. "Why?"

He takes a few steps closer. "Because I told you to. You don't need more reason than that."

You snort quietly and slowly swing your legs to and fro while leaning back, pressing your palms to the hard brick beneath you. "I'm perfectly comfortable where I am."

He lets out a low curse, which instils within you a small sense of satisfaction.

Whenever you're both in the apartment at the same time—which isn't incredibly often—he always leers at you from across the room beneath furrowed brows, with a dark gaze, and a tightly clenched jaw, so you come up here to escape, and still he's displeased.

"You're making me nervous up there. If you fall—"

You stand suddenly and he clamps his mouth shut.

You level your arms on either side of you and begin to imitate a tightrope walker while placing one foot in front of the other—toe to heel, heel to toe—and Jace crosses his arms while a frown tugs at his lips.

"You must think yourself terribly clever, but you're only serving to ignite my ire."

You shrug slightly while smirking at him over your shoulder. "As if that's terribly difficult to achieve."

He grits his teeth.

"I came up here to be alone, you know?"

He steps closer. "Get down. I won't ask again."

You swing one leg over the edge and snicker. "Look—no hands and only one foot!"

He bares his teeth—a sign that his anger has finally reached its limit.

You giggle, strictly from nerves at the unsettling sight, and he quickly reaches out, takes hold of your hand, and pulls you suddenly from the ledge.

You lose your footing and scream in fright as your body lunges in the wrong direction, but he holds firm and you fall into his chest.

He catches you beneath your legs and cradles you against his body while you draw in ragged breaths, trying desperately to calm your pattering heart.

You stare into his dark eyes, half-hidden beneath curls that are of a similar shade, and the words you mean to say—so as to give him a piece of your mind—become stuck in your throat at the sight of him staring at your lips.

Your brows knit together momentarily, and then he practically tosses you down.

You land on your bottom, and a foul word slips from your lips in response to the pain that starts at your tailbone and radiates up your back.

"Ow, Jace! That hurt!"

He glances to the ledge, then back to you. "Imagine how much worse you'd feel had I not pulled you down."

You rise to your feet. "I came up here to get away from you, since all you seem in there is bothered by my presence!"

He rolls his eyes, but of course doesn't deign to reply as he turns and walks to the door.

He holds it open with an expectant look, and you sigh dramatically before going back inside, with him following closely behind.

· tagging list: @emilynissangtr @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea

[pixienohken]

Since I played Shadow Generations, I went back to re-watch the opening cutscene of the 2005 game. And wow, my 8 year old brain definitely filtered some of the stuff in the intro, or didn't notice it because of how fast it played. The black arms are probably one of the most brutal factions in sonic history. They literally just drop out of the sky and start raising hell, which is unironically terrifying if you were just a civilian living in the city.

Like, look at the scene where the giant one tosses an entire car and causes an explosion. It rolls, and explodes right by a gun squad, ragdolling them all instantly. That's three or four people DEAD.

The next scene has a POV of a Gun Soldier, and you see a black arms trooper hop up on a car, and guns down a soldier. And another black arms on the left just walking casually shoots the other one (and continues shooting the dude's body, absolutely brutal.) The only gun soldier standing which is the soldier we have the POV of, gets attacked by one of the flying black arms. That's presumably three more dead, possibly even more, since the one on top of the car continues shooting at something off screen.

Even while GUN troops are getting destroyed, not even civilians are safe, because although the car this behemoth lands on is empty, he slams a civilian car into the building. I thought it was a cop car, but this is a solid black car, no white doors or anything. All of the civilians in that car (Possibly a family with children) are now gone.

The final scene in the intro is probably the most brutal, because of how much stuff happens in just a few seconds. In fact if you blink you'll probably miss it, so I zoomed in a little.

On the top left you can see a squad of three GUN soldiers being absolutely demolished by some sort of explosion launched by the Black Arms troopers charging at them. Then those same troops keep sprinting past their bodies and begin shooting at presumably more people between the buildings who were probably survivors trying to hide.

On the lower right we see that there's an entire horde of them, a behemoth throwing a police car at something off screen. (Probably a person) and all around him there's like a dozen or so black arm troops walking around and shooting at everything and everyone (once more off screen)

I find this one the most disturbing for two reasons. One is that if you look closely, some of them who are hanging behind the parade are just purposefully shooting at wrecked cars and debris piles. Which could mean either they're purposefully causing as much destruction as possible, or they're trying to scare survivors out. (They even bothered animating the sparks of laser bolts hitting the cars and walls, which meant the animators purposefully animated some of them doing that.)

The other reason I find it somewhat unnerving is that the idea of an entire horde of black arm troops just walking down the street and brutally massacring the town, and in such a casual manner as if it's a completely normal thing.

All those people dead in like a twenty or thirty second timespan. The fact that somehow all this stuff was in a sonic game. A SONIC GAME. ONLY RATED E 10 AND UP, LIKE NONE OF THIS WAS WORTH THE TEEN RATING?

H O W ? !

Back in the 2000s, people accused this game of blatantly copying the Covenant from the Halo series, and even if they did, they definitely were faithful to the original material, considering they kept in the part of the aliens wanting to genocide humanity and will gun down any human they see.

Anyways rambling over. I love Shadow and I love his game. :-)

[levisbitterness]

﹐ becoming , adoptive parents ﹒　　 ׅ 　ㅤlevi ackerman

- it wasn't like levi to stroll around town at the crack of dawn but somehow, you convinced him to. right now he would be cooped up in his office cleaning even the slightest bit of "dust" off of his new leather chair.

- the sun is barely up, levi's eyes are still barely open. maybe some breakfast and a cup of tea would do him some good. but when you offer up the idea to him he declines.

"mm. . .not now, not hungry." he insists, a yawn escaping him. tired, would be an understatement knowing how hard erwin works your poor husband. you should really have a tough word with the man, professionally, of course.

- you both don't even know where you're going but, it's just a small walk. passing by houses and stepping down stone stairs you nearly stumble over something, surprise turning into mild irritation. why weren't you looking where you were going?

- a barrel, you think. or maybe it was a tiny box you almost tripped over. no, a kid.

levi's eyes pass down to his feet, his glossy sight focusing on a beaten down kid. quickly, he steps back, horror and shock baffling the ackerman. "holy fuck. . ." he can't stop the vulgar words that escape him.

- levi isn't the only one who's surprised, you are too. you thought this would just be an innocent, light walk with your sleepy husband. but now you both are met with an abandoned kid.

- for some reason, your first instinct is to reach your hand out to them. unsure if the frail child is even a boy or a girl. their hair is a mess, matted up and wet. their clothes are ripped and dirty as can be, rats scurry off from their feet when you try to make contact with them.

"hey, kid. . .i didn't mean to almost trip over you like that i—are. . .you alright?" you ask but they don't respond, facial expression too hard to read. levi's astonishment wears off, his face turning somber. they look so much like him when he was younger and malnourished.

- they look so lonely, all alone with nobody. you pull your hand back, not wanting to make them uncomfortable with your touch; you are a random stranger after all.

- you pass levi a look of sorrow, his expression is almost the same as yours if the man weren't so hard faced. the child is small, despite that they find the strength to get up.

"it's. . .okay," two simple words. their voice soft and sweet, you almost melt. "why are you out here. . .like this? where are your parents?" you can't help but bombard them with questions left and right.

- staying just a few minutes longer with this child you learn that she was "taken in" by her aunt and uncle, her parents handing her down to distant family because of finical reasons. not wanting to scrape around town for more money, since having more than three kids was beyond difficult.

- your eyes alter to levi and back every few seconds, wanting to glimpse at his expressions, even if they might be non-existent.

"alright, but why are you out here?" the golden question, levi is the one to be bold. "they. . .didn't have room for me either." the poor girl, passed from house to house only to be kicked out.

- you look at levi again, you guys have to take in this girl.

© levisbitterness , even limes can be sweet

[guiltycorp]

Okay finished the Haruspex route of Pathologic Classic! I need to play Clara's route to see the whole picture but I'm already fascinated by the differences between P1 and P2 in terms of characterization. I think I like Pathologic 2 even more now considering how they improved on Artemy's route, I am sorry to say I didn't like it at all in classic... This is all just my personal impression after first playthrough ofc. Ramblings about both Artemy and Daniil ↓ I think what bothered me about Haruspex was mostly just his attitude and his messiah plot. Once the first day is out of the way it's all smooth sailing for him, a bit too much so?? The only personal conflict he has is figuring out his father's exact wishes for him and choosing a sacrifice. Killing anyone is treated as fair or something that needed to happen and the Haruspex is always shrugging it off... And either option, Aglaya & the Town or Polyhedron... It just doesn't seem like he is that attached to either? So it doesn't feel like he is sacrificing much personally? Like sure he wants to save the Town because of his messianic qualities, but that's again more about fulfilling his 'role' rather than genuinely wanting to save lives, or at least it read that way to me. I'm sure it's meant to be both and P2 makes this far more apparent, but in P1 it elicited a rather squinty reaction from me. Plus well yeah, getting rid of Polyhedron is pretty much just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, like yep he sure didn't care about that thing lmao so getting rid of it isn't such a difficult choice at all. The suggestion that the Polyhedron could be his Udurgh is kind of useless because the Town and Earth are far better candidates and fit with Kin beliefs better, which in this game Artemy pretty much doesn't doubt at all.  Maybe this is why the Bachelor is so present in his route? Daniil did say he'd commit suicide if he lost, maybe we'd want to think twice about pushing him towards it... But again! Does it seem like this guy cares ahhh haha... The dialogue option that is actually engaging with what Daniil said is pretty much there to make it clear to the player what the Utopian ending is and what it would be like.

Ngl at first I thought he was meant to be the 'sacrifice' until they said it's a woman. Every time Artemy learned something about the Bachelor's motivations he'd write down in his diary like '...if it matters' since the player can always choose what ending to go with I guess. I also find it curious that he can say that they are friends but still always writing only 'the Bachelor' in his diaries while Daniil switched to 'Artemy' and 'Burakh' during the final stretch. The one-sided yaoi................ 🤔 At least Artemy doesn't get mad at him for ordering to set the mythic bull on fire, I guess their friendship did mean something to him after all at that point. Also when Capella tells him that he should ask the Bachelor for help with getting into the Polyhedron since the Bachelor 'fawns upon you a lot anyway' the Haruspex just goes 'oh yeah! ok' fjdghdjg... Now that I think about it I DID like the Haruspex route for what it did with the Bachelor hahah, his dialogues and letters are just so good sometimes. Like wow, I felt this.

Very cool, if i was Artemy I'd totally abandon my weird murderous calling for this. Tangentially related... P2 had one moment that I remember from my last replay when Rubin, if kept alive, falls into a deep deserved sleep in his home, and Artemy just starts emotionally monologuing at him.

Like, P1 Artemy would never, but also it goes to show that he's still very much a repressed man here too, buying into toxic masculinity ideals who can't just talk to his friends about his feelings directly... The same character, but more complex. I want to make it clear that I DO like him and his motivations in P2 actually, and his personal conflict being more about the future of the Kin makes that game much more powerful to me than what his classic route was. I heard that initially he was planned to be far more violent and dark, so maybe he could have been sort of a villain protagonist and this was changed later and this is why it feels a bit bland? Hmm... Idk this is fun to me because meanwhile the Bachelor didn't feel that different to me in both games lmao. A highly stressed educated guy who is just trying to prevent the spread of epidemic the 'right' way and then clinging to the only chance he has left to preserve both his ideals and his life. He is a bit less polite in P2 at first (while still very much helping by warding off Rubin) but then rather quickly becomes more cordial to Artemy and vice versa (and wow it sure is nice when Artemy can actually be polite and friendly..). And the moment when he explains some of his personal deal to Artemy feels rather similar in both iterations mood-wise.

I liked his route in P1 a lot, surprisingly so, and I now understand why so many people liked him before P2 came out and afterwards too... There's just something very real about how he is the intelligent Capital doctor but with an extraordinary dream to combat death itself, possibly given to him by the Powers That Be due to these children trying to cope with people dying around them. And instead of favoring him for it they hate him! They leave him with nothing but this final chance to fix things, even if that means destroying everything and rebuilding anew. Daniil's desperation feels very real and thus more compelling, plus like... I mean it's pretty much confirmed that it's not just the Polyhedron and that the soil itself is 'rotten' (literally in the meta real world and through blood beneath the earth in the Town itself) and the decease could return again, sooo his ending doesn't look that bad comparatively. I also appreciated how Maria (or uhh was it Nina talking through her here as well?) explained how their Utopia doesn't actually mean a 'perfect' place, more so just an impossible dream.

The Bachelor doesn't mind this at all, a detail I loved.

...Hmm that said maybe P1 makes it a little too easy for him to kinda ignore the Kin issue, he is only mad about their circumstances when it comes to Vlad choosing to doom thousands of the Kin workers inside the Termitary (which is just his doctor ethics). I mean it is realistic for him to ignore the implications of representing the imperialist side, he does mention his father was a military man too at some point I think... Still, he is very quick to accept the Kin's unique beliefs as something that has obvious merit, trusting the Haruspex with that side of things in both of their routes, and he doesn't make much of a distinction between them and regular Town people when it comes to patient treatment. If anything it's probably a sign of how the writers weren't thinking that hard about this worldbuilding aspect at the time... even if I appreciated them showing the downsides of the Kin's society, I think those were done better than in P2 purely because it was a bit more realistic (I am talking about sexism mostly, such as selling their own daughters and not respecting their autonomy, plus the mention of Kin politics and different ruling clans rather than the hive mind situation implied in P2). Like, it is more obvious in P1 that wholeheartedly embracing the Kin's return to tradition isn't such a good solution for them either, but one that will likely happen anyway with Artemy and Taya as their new leaders. And it could get trickier in Pathologic 3 I think, especially since most of us really appreciated the portrayal of colonization in P2 and would expect it getting addressed again in future games of other character routes, but we'll see I guess! Either way I look forward to that game a lot now.

[yeahspider]

STEP TWO: THE DEPARTURE

series masterlist

a/n- things are getting interestingggg ! enjoy reading thx for stopping by ! ily !! <3

Two shots of tequila and you were out the door. And that's when things started staying from the plan. Despite leaving at a time you thought was early enough to beat traffic it seems you grossly miscalculated. This isn't explicitly out of character for you but it definitely wasn't welcome at the moment.

Cars lined the road on either side and were moving at a snail's pace. Traffic was so slow folks had time to hop out of their cars and talk to others in line. Leaning your head out the passenger side window while you nod your head to whatever your friend had playing. Letting your mind wander to how you hoped the night would play out.

A knock on your friend's window jolted you from the safety of your imagination. In a surprising turn of events, it was no other than Seo Changbin, one of the other town bachelors and friends with Hyunjin. This is one of the last people you expect to see right now. If he's here that means Hyunjin isn't far behind. This would derail your plan entirely, you weren't ready to face him yet. You see Changbin motion to your friend to roll her window down and when she complies you want to slam your head into the dashboard. This cannot be happening right now.

"well if it isn't exactly the two ladies I needed to see right now. I have to say you guys look great tonight," he says with the biggest smile on his face. Now you knew as well as most of the town that Seo Changbin had a crush on your best friend. He's chased after her for years but she has never paid him any mind. Never taken him too seriously, at least publicly. Sure they've fucked a few times but according to her, it wasn't anything serious. Which you found hard to believe considering you've read some of their messages and it seemed pretty serious to you. But hey everyone was entitled to their secrets.

Your best friend doesn't seem phased by his blinding smile and charm, although you can feel yourself start to smile. His energy is just too infectious. She asked what he wanted in a bored tone, but you could hear the smile threatening to leak out.

"I'm so glad you asked. I assume you're going to the bonfire yeah? Well me and a few of my friends were on our way when my car broke down. I was just wondering if it was okay if we could ride with you guys?".

This sudden news threw you for a loop. Which friends were Changbin talking about? You were hoping it wasn't the same feeling you were planning on talking to you tonight. Your best friend just looked at Changbin hard in his face. While his smile never faded. She was going to say yes and you knew it. No matter what she says she has a real soft spot for the boy. Within a second of her nodding in he jumped in excitement and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Causing her to freeze in surprise. Absentmindedly nodding at his promise to "be right back". All you could do was say a silent prayer that Hyunjin wouldn't be walking up to the car.

[wolf-in-a-trenchcoat]

@hobartsaglet wanted me to tell you about the color ramble lol

So, this actually reminds me of two sets of media I thoroughly enjoyed that has a similar thing- Megamind and Our Flag Means Death. In Megamind, we see Roxanne going from red to blue throughout the movie- thus signifying her relationship developing with Bernard!Megamind- and then turning to purple when they "break up", and lastly back to blue when she finally gets back together with Megamind in the end.

In Our Flag, Ed wears purple the closer he gets with Stede- same goes for how he wears fingerless gloves in the beginning to show that he's hiding most of himself except for the bits he wants people to see, then goes gloveless when he and Stede become super close, then full gloves in S2 for various plot reasons that may be spoilers. Fuckin love that show-

Anyways, back to the actual topic.

If you pay really close attention to Bilbo AND Thorin's attire during the journey, you'll see that as Bilbo becomes closer to Thorin, he ditches the reds and oranges and starts wearing blue- specifically Durin's blue.

Like THE family blue.

And it's not even that noticeable he does it. It actually took me a while to notice it myself, a second watch, AND looking through the costume designs. Like, yeah, we know that he'd end up wearing something warmer when the winter months come, but they obviously had various colors they could've used- Thorin wears a brown fit after Lake-Town, and everyone has their own colors...

But Bilbo specifically has Durin's blue. That is the shade it's called.

And BOTFA would be where we'd see the peak of their relationship- Bilbo is supposedly the only one at the time able to reach through the gold-sickness and get to Thorin. We see it during the acorn scene (a whole other rant) and when Thorin gives him the mithril shirt (also another whole ass rant). He trusts and has such a deep fondness for Bilbo even through the sickness.

It makes you think, when you take the colors into consideration. Bilbo wore very warm colors when we first and last see him. And yes, I mean the gear he had when he goes back home.

Bet you didn't expect me to bring that up, did you?? (Yeah, same- @hobartsaglet had to hear that rant for... 3 is hours on call? Sorry man haha-)

When he heads back to Bag End after talking to Balin and the remaining Company, if you pay really close attention, he's back to wearing red. Thorin is dead now, so there's no more relationship to develop. Bilbo isn't wearing blue anymore.

He stops wearing blue.

The whole journey, Bilbo's clothes change as he acclimated to the dwarves, but his colors changed as he grew closer to Thorin. It wasn't obvious and in your face, you had to pay close attention as the movies and scenes progressed.

Thorin wasn't left out either.

We see him first wearing dark colors and a common silver or steel. He's dark, majestic, broody- he looks out of place in Bag End at first. And as the story progresses, Thorin starts wearing lighter colors- browns, reds, just not black/dark colors.

That can also tie into the gold-sickness, too.

When they finally make it to Erebor and drive out Smaug, we see Thorin dressing more lavishly- AND BACK INTO THE DARK COLORS. He's back to wearing those shades and Bilbo is still wearing blue. Thorin also adds gold into the scheme.

Wanna know what else is gold, and causes great harm to its owner? The One Ring.

Both have something gold that destroys them from within- Thorin with the hoard, Bilbo with the ring.

But, when the Battle of Five Armies starts and Thorin finally clears out of the sickness, he's back to wearing SILVER/STEEL. Not a single touch of gold on him. At all.

The thing about the gold is that it was meant to make us uneasy. We're meant to see it and feel how heavy the weight of that sickness lies on Thorin and the line of Durin. Same goes with the ring, and it also being gold.

Thorin gifting Bilbo the mithril shirt is a nod to how much Bilbo has changed. That is one of the most, if not second to the Arkenstone, valuable items in that mountain. Thorin saw him as valuable through the rarest silver.

And mithril is a clean, pure silver.

I think there's more, but this is all I remember ranting about, so if I figure anything else out from memory, I'll shoot you another long winded reblog.

bagginshield is so real cause what do you mean they started wearing each others colors

[asteria-argo]

When is your birthday? I hope it is good!

the 1st of march! it's currently the 25th of February for me so I've got like four days left and then I am officially 20! I'm going to the history and art museum like an hour from my place the day of and then the day after I'm having a costume party with my friends, so hopefully it'll be fun!

[bitchfitch]

I've started playing Potion Permit, and so far it's one of my favorite games I've messed around with, but the most big brained move the devs made was giving you a dog on day 1, and then making that dog able to track NPCs and lead you directly to them no matter where they are in the town.

[silverwhittlingknife]

can we have a hint about what the spring break tim patrol chapter of red letter day contains? (you kept having dick say "if the joker shows up" and tim's "he won't." for me to be convinced that goes off without any trouble)

i'm sure it'll be fine. :D

i am delighted you're enjoying the story <333 i haven't updated it in soooo long but i got some very sweet comments lately so i have been looking at my scribbles again <3

[prettygores]

"Don't you think, if any of those things really happened he'd be in jail and not at our school?" Instead, Tyler was a resident of Riverwood now whether they liked it or not. He wasn't going anywhere and someway, somehow, the people of this town were going to have to live with it. Just because he wears a lot of black and leather and has tattoos all over his body, doesn't mean he's a criminal. Maybe that makes Brooke naive but, she likes to believe there's some good in everyone. Even those, others swear don't have any the most. "I mean, I doubt they'd let him across State lines if he was on trial for murder." But, what does she know? Brooke's never studied law. Maybe Tyler could be a killer and he was just good at hiding it. Either way, she doesn't believe it and she doesn't want to feed into the conspiracy theories anymore that target him or his character. She got to know Tyler on a deeper level and so far, he seemed like a decent guy. More decent than the males she's been surrounded with her whole life including her dad.

"Is that--" Brooke pauses, to lick her lips. Not intentionally but, she can't help noticing how Leo's eyes keep venturing toward her chest more so than her face. Just to see what's caught his interest so much, Brooke glances down and spots the hard outline of her own nipples protruding beneath her shirt. Embarrassed and perturbed, she crosses her arms over her chest in defense of them. "Is that all that matters to you guys?" It's a general statement. Rhetorical in the sense, it doesn't require an answer. First Jake comes onto her after she makes her boundaries to him very clear and now Leo? "This was a mistake." Upon standing up, Brooke shakes her head and rejects his offer for a drink. "I don't want to have sex with you. I don't even know you. And I shouldn't even be here because I'm already hung up on someone else." Tyler was the one she was supposed to be meeting up with tonight. And just because he didn't show, didn't mean he wasn't interested in her anymore, right? Maybe something happened to him, maybe he got caught up somewhere or god forbid, has a flat tire and is stranded on the side of the road. Either way, he's the one Brooke wants to talk to and spend her night with, not... Leo. Not a complete stranger who, no matter how hard she tries, won't make her feel as safe as Tyler does. "Sorry, for leading you on. I, um, I have to go. I hope you have a good night..." Unwilling to stick around and give him a chance to change her mind or argue, Brooke marches back off the dock and towards the house again.

"Nothing?" He repeats with a smirk. Clearly it wasn't nothing or else she wouldn't have mentioned it. He can sense she doesn't trust him and that's alright. In time, he'll earn it. It'll give him something to work toward. It's not like he thought Brooke would be easy. She has a reputation for being unattainable. Which only makes her hotter because it means not everyone in school got a piece. Guys might sleep around themselves, but they're possessive by nature. They don't want what everyone else already had. There's no pride in getting someone else's sloppy seconds. No one congratulated him for fucking Nina. They told him to get checked out afterward which he did. He was clean. "I heard he killed his parents. And that he got arrested in New York for street racing. He put a guy in the hospital. I'm surprised he got away with it." Leo shrugs as if he's tired of talking about Tyler now. He would rather talk about her. His eyes can't stop falling to her chest, noticing the way her tube top is smothering her hard tits. He can feel the vein in his cock pulsating as he imagines what they look like out of her top. "I'm sorry. You're just really hot," he says after she rejects his kiss. She just needs more to drink. "Have another sip." He hands her the bottle, urging her to take a bigger swig.

[oceandiagonale]

Actually, Guzman is his spanish name.

OH YEAH some other folks pointed that out too, makes sense since it's an irl Spanish name (probably why I see it around a lot!) 😳

(normally it's a surname, I've only seen it used as a first name once in a blue moon -- but also in the pokemon world it's pretty clear that naming conventions aren't the same lol)