#idk why I always choose sanctuary

[demon-slayer-kaiden]

Treating Fallout 4 settlements like I’m playing ✨The Sims✨

Her house is still a work in progress, and I thought it would be fun to make “Yuu’s room”

And then…I just think Rad Storms are neat

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Veil of Deception

Thomas Shelby x F! Mindreader

Summary: She had always been able to read anyone she wanted, but Thomas Shelby was different...

Wordcount: 12.2k

Warnings: Plot is all over? Maybe idk

Semi-proof read, messy plot lolz, there’s smut at the bottom lolz, it’s respectful smut, unsafe sex, dom! Thomas, sloppy kissing, lap sitting, grinding, praise, lovey dovey sex, slow burn sex, slow and romantic, aftercare.

The evening had cast a dusky, melancholic veil over Small Heath as she walked into the Garrison, a sanctuary of sorts amid the swirling chaos of her life.

The heavy wooden doors creaked open, revealing the dimly lit interior, where the scent of stale beer and cigar smoke hung thick in the air. The low murmur of conversations, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter, created a familiar, comforting hum that wrapped around her like a well-worn blanket. She made her way to the bar top, each step echoing slightly against the wooden floorboards. Her mind, battered by the day's relentless demands, felt like a tangled mess, barely holding together. She reached the bar and tapped it lightly, a subtle signal that nonetheless carried the weight of her exhaustion. The barmaid, a sturdy woman with an air of no-nonsense efficiency, looked up from polishing glasses and approached her.

“What can a get ya’?” the barmaid asked, her voice a blend of curiosity and concern

“Whiskey…” she replied, her voice flat, the words escaping her lips like a sigh of defeat.

As the barmaid turned to fulfill her request, she leaned against the bar, her fingers tracing the grain of the wood absentmindedly. Her eyes roamed over the room, taking in the familiar faces of the regulars, their animated discussions a backdrop to her own solitude. The Garrison was a place where time seemed to stand still, a refuge where she could momentarily escape the relentless march of her thoughts.

The barmaid returned with a glass of whisky, the amber liquid catching the dim light and glinting invitingly. She took it with a grateful nod, feeling the cool glass against her palm, and brought it to her lips. The first sip was a burn, a searing warmth that spread through her chest and settled in her stomach, dulling the edges of her fatigue.

“I'm here a lot, but I'm guessing you just applied for the job?” Her voice cut through the low murmur of the pub, directed at the bar maid. The woman looked up, startled for a moment before offering a tentative smile.

“Aye, just started today,” she replied, her voice tinged with a slight tremor.

She takes another sip, the whiskey burning another familiar path down her throat, grounding her in the present moment. The taste is sharp, a reminder of why she chose this drink tonight. It keeps her senses alert, her mind sharp. She places the glass back on the polished wooden surface with a gentle thud, her fingers tracing the rim absentmindedly.

“Why choose being a barmaid? There’s a lot more of safer jobs,” she asks, her voice carrying a note of genuine curiosity.

The barmaid’s smile widens slightly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Because I thought it would be better and I like talking to people,” she replies, her tone light, almost rehearsed.

But the woman at the bar sees beyond the surface. There is a flicker in the barmaid’s eyes, a momentary lapse in the façade. Her eyes lit up just a bit when the barmaid said that, she’s lying. Something else is going on but she doesn’t push it. She sees a black shadow appearing and forming a decent-sized shadow monster came out of her head. The shadow creature looms behind the barmaid, its form shifting and writhing as it’s made of smoke and darkness. It’s not hurting her.

The barmaid, oblivious to the specter, smiles and walks away, her steps brisk and purposeful. The shadow lingers for a moment, its eyeless gaze fixed on the woman at the bar, before dissipating into the dimness of the room. She watches it go, a familiar unease settling in her chest. Her mind is a storm of questions and possibilities. What secrets does the barmaid hide behind that cheerful exterior? What has drawn such a malevolent presence to her? She takes another sip of her whiskey, the warmth spreading through her, anchoring her thoughts. Her eyes linger on the barmaid, now serving another customer with the same practiced smile.

She watched intently, noting the subtle shifts in the barmaid’s demeanor as she interacted with different customers. Her eyes, though bright and seemingly cheerful, held a depth of knowledge and weariness that spoke of a life lived beyond her years. She could the better barmaid’s thoughts, a constant stream of calculations and observations as she navigated her way through each interaction. She was a master of her craft, no doubt, but there was something else, something darker, lurking beneath the surface. The barmaid glanced around the bar, her gaze briefly meeting hers before flicking away. A flicker of recognition, perhaps, or just a momentary lapse in her otherwise controlled composure. The woman smiled to herself, a small, knowing smile. She could see the cracks, the tiny fissures in the barmaid’s carefully constructed facade. It wouldn’t be long before they widened, revealing the truth.

“Wanted to be a barmaid, did you?” The barmaid thought, her mind dripping with sarcasm. It was a clever ruse, she had to admit. The perfect cover for someone with a hidden agenda. But she wasn’t fooled. She had seen too many lies, heard too many falsehoods, to be taken in by such a transparent act.

A couple of days had passed and yet The Garrison was calling her name, she stepped inside, the worn floorboards creaking beneath her feet, and took in the familiar scene. The barmaid, was there as usual, her hands busy wiping down the counter with a rag that had seen better days. But today, something was different. The barmaid, who was normally reserved and cool, was smiling and laughing, her eyes flicking up from her work to meet those of the man sitting at the bar. Thomas Shelby. The name alone was enough to send shivers down the spine of anyone who heard it. He was the leader of the Peaky Blinders, a man whose reputation for ruthlessness was matched only by his cunning. He ruled Birmingham with an iron fist, his word law, his will unbreakable. And yet, here he was, leaning against the bar with an air of casual authority, the barmaid hanging on his every word. It was odd, she thought, to see the barmaid so friendly with him.

Thomas was dressed impeccably, as always. His tailored suit hugged his frame, the dark fabric contrasting sharply with the white of his shirt. His peaked cap sat on the bar beside him, the gleam of the razor blades sewn into the brim catching the light. His eyes, a piercing blue, were focused intently on the barmaid as he spoke, his voice low and commanding, tinged with that unmistakable Birmingham accent.

"Y'see, it's all about control," he was saying, his fingers drumming lightly on the bar. "You control the fear, you control the people. Simple as that."

The barmaid nodded, her expression one of rapt attention. "Aye, Mr. Shelby, I see what y'mean," she replied, her tone almost deferential.

The shadow appeared from the barmaid again..lying once more. She watched this interaction from a distance, her curiosity piqued. What was it about her that made Thomas Shelby seem normal when talking to her.. But seeing him here, in this setting, was different. It was like watching a wolf among sheep, the predator among the prey.

Thomas glanced her way, his eyes locking onto hers for a brief moment. There was a flicker of recognition there, a hint of something unreadable. He raised his glass in a silent salute before turning back to the barmaid. "Thing is," he continued, "once they know you're not afraid to do what needs to be done, they start to respect you. Respect is everything in this business."

The barmaid leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And what about those who don't respect yeh, Mr. Shelby? What happens to them?"

Thomas's smile was a cold, calculating thing. "They learn. One way or another, they learn."

She felt a chill run down her spine at his words. There was no doubt in her mind that he meant every word. Thomas Shelby was not a man to be trifled with. His power was absolute, his influence far-reaching. He was a man who got what he wanted, and woe to anyone who stood in his way.

The bar grew quieter as the evening wore on, the usual patrons giving Thomas a wide berth. It was clear that his presence commanded a level of respect and fear that few could match. She found herself a seat at a corner table, her eyes never straying far from where he sat. She couldn't help but be fascinated by him, by the way he moved, the way he spoke. There was a magnetism about him, an aura of danger that was impossible to ignore. She couldn’t quite read him..

At one point, Thomas stood up, stretching his legs and casting a casual glance around the room. His gaze settled on her again, and this time he made his way over, his steps unhurried, his demeanor relaxed. He pulled out a chair and sat down opposite her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Mind if I join yeh?" he asked, though it was clear from his tone that he wasn't really asking.

She shook her head, her heart pounding in her chest. "No, go ahead."

He leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on the table. "You've been watchin' me," he stated matter-of-factly. "Why's that?"

He leans back in his chair, fingers drumming a steady rhythm on the armrest, the only sign of his impatience. His expression remains unreadable, a mask of stoic calm, but his eyes betray a flicker of curiosity and suspicion. He pulls out his lighter and cigarettes, before lighting a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his face, casting a fleeting glimpse of the turmoil that lies beneath his composed exterior. The silence between them stretches, heavy with unspoken words, until she breaks it with her cryptic statement.

"I have my reasons on why I am, but it’s not you who I’m entirely looking at.."

Thomas’s lips curl into a slight, sardonic smile. He takes a drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly, the smoke escaping through his nostrils like a dragon preparing to breathe fire. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his piercing gaze never leaving her face.

“The barmaid, eh’?” he repeats, his voice a low, gravelly murmur, tinged with his thick Birmingham accent. His tone is laced with both curiosity and a hint of mockery, as if he finds the idea amusing yet intriguing.

"Well, Grace... she seems fine," he began, his voice low and gravelly, each word soaked in the thick Birmingham accent. His gaze was steady, unyielding, as he studied her reaction, searching for any hint of deception or hidden motives.

She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, her fingers nervously twisting the fabric of her dress. "She’s... not trustworthy. I can tell you that," she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper, as if speaking the words aloud made them more real, more dangerous. Thomas leaned back, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "So can I," he said, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and skepticism. "We’re alike, in a sense" he added, his eyes never leaving her face, gauging her every reaction, every flicker of emotion.

Her eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and confusion crossing her features. "That’s not what I meant," she insisted, her voice gaining strength. "She’s here for a different motive. I just don’t know..if she’s really going to go through with it”

Thomas's smile faded, replaced by a look of intense focus. He extinguished his cigarette in a crystal ashtray with deliberate precision, the smoldering end hissing as it met the glass. "Then find out for me, can you do that” he ordered, his voice cold and commanding.

The Garrison felt different after so many months, like a place steeped in shadows and secrets. The dim lighting cast long, eerie shadows on the wooden walls, making the pub appear as a stage set for some unspoken drama. Patrons, engrossed in their drinks and hushed conversations, hardly noticed your hurried entrance. The smell of whiskey and stale smoke hung heavily in the air, intertwining with the faint scent of Thomas’s preferred cigarettes. The atmosphere was thick, almost tangible, like you could cut through it with a knife.

Her eyes scanned the bar seeking out Thomas’s familiar figure. There he was, in his usual spot, a corner booth that offered a clear view of the entire pub. He sat with a whiskey glass in hand, the amber liquid reflecting the light in an almost mesmerizing way. His face was a mask of calm, but she knew him well enough to see the tension in his jaw, the storm brewing behind those piercing blue eyes. As she moved to Thomas all she could think about was Grace. Grace was not the sweet barmaid she pretended to be, but a spy sent to retrieve the stolen government guns.

She approached him, her heart pounding in her chest. Thomas looked up as you neared, his gaze locking onto hers There was an intensity in his eyes, a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Shelby, we need to talk,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with urgency

He motioned for you to sit, his eyes never leaving her face. “What’s this about then?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, carrying that unmistakable Birmingham accent. She could hear the weariness in his tone, the weight of leadership pressing heavily on his shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, she began to speak. “It’s about Grace. I found out who she really is, what she’s planning. She’s not who she says she is, Tommy. She’s working for the government, sent here to get the guns back.”

Thomas eyes glinted with a mixture of surprise and suspicion as he stood up, his frame towering over her. His hand shot out, gripping her arm firmly but not roughly, and he swiftly led her into the small, dimly lit room that served as the Peaky Blinders' meeting place. The room smelled of stale smoke and whiskey, with a faint hint of gun oil lingering in the air. His voice was low and controlled, but there was an undeniable edge to it. "What fooking guns... how do you know about the fooking guns?!" His accent was thick, his words clipped and precise, betraying the intensity of his emotions. His gaze bore into hers, searching for any sign of deception. Thomas released her arm, but his posture remained tense, ready for any answer she might give. His mind raced, trying to piece together how she could have come across such sensitive information. Was she a spy? A rival gang member? Or something else entirely?

He studied her face, looking for any flicker of guilt or fear. His own expression was unreadable, a mask of controlled intensity. He had learned long ago to keep his emotions in check, especially in situations like this. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke again, his voice softer this time, but no less intense. "You need to tell me everything... now." His eyes bored into hers, demanding the truth. He was used to being in control, to knowing everything that went on in his world. This unexpected revelation had thrown him off balance, and he was determined to regain his footing.

As she began to explain, Thomas listened intently, his mind working overtime to process the information. He asked probing questions, his tone calm but insistent. He needed to understand how she had come to possess such dangerous knowledge, and what her intentions were. Despite his initial anger and suspicion, Thomas couldn't help but be impressed by her boldness and resourcefulness. It was clear that she was no ordinary woman, and he found himself intrigued by her.

As she finished speaking, Thomas remained silent for a moment, deep in thought. Then, with a nod, he made a decision. "You're coming with me," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I need to make sure you're telling me the truth... and if you're not, well... let's just say you don't want to find out what happens if you lie to me." His tone was chilling, a reminder of the power he wielded. With that, Thomas turned and strode out of the room, leaving her to follow in his wake. She had entered his world, and now she would have to navigate its dangers alongside him.

The front-room was cloaked in a heavy silence, broken only by the muffled sound of voices seeping through the walls from the adjacent room where Thomas and the rest of the Shelby family were gathered. In the room across from them, she sat, a lone figure, her presence almost ethereal amidst the shadows. Her legs were elegantly crossed, an air of calm confidence surrounding her despite the gravity of the situation. Aunt Polly stood nearby, her eyes fixed on the woman, assessing her with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. The woman's ability to discern truth from lies had stirred a sense of unease within the family, especially given their line of work and the secrets they harbored.

As the rest of the family filed back into the room, Thomas's piercing gaze locked onto her. His expression was unreadable, a mask of stoicism that barely concealed the keen intelligence behind his eyes. Polly Gray, ever the matriarch, sat to Thomas’s right. Her discerning gaze was fixed on the woman, eyes narrowing as if trying to peel back the layers of her soul. Arthur, twitchy and restless, leaned back in his chair, his eyes flitting between the woman and Thomas, awaiting his brother’s lead. Ada, the youngest, crossed her arms, skepticism etched on her features, while John, ever the silent observer, leaned forward, elbows on the table, his stare unblinking.

"So... you can tell when people are lying?" Thomas’s voice cut through the silence, his tone measured but laced with a hint of intrigue. He studied her intently, trying to gauge her reaction, but her face betrayed nothing, a testament to her ability to keep her own secrets hidden.

"Yes... but their thoughts... secrets... everything I want to know... I know," she declared, her gaze unwavering as she pointed directly at him. Thomas remained stoic, his expression unreadable, though a flicker of curiosity danced in his eyes.

Aunt Polly, ever the voice of reason, arched an eyebrow. "Then what is Thomas thinking of?" she inquired, her tone sharp and skeptical. She hesitated, sensing the weight of the question.

"That's the problem... I can't read him," she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "I've never encountered anybody I can't read but him." She gestured towards Thomas, who remained silent, his jaw set in a firm line.

The room fell into a tense silence as the implications of her words hung in the air. Half the family rolled their eyes at her claims, seemingly dismissing them as nonsense. Thomas, however, remained impassive, his mind undoubtedly at work, processing the situation. His silence spoke volumes, a testament to his enigmatic nature. Despite the chaos that often surrounded him, Thomas Shelby was a man of few words, his thoughts and intentions carefully guarded. His family knew this all too well, understanding that there was always more to Thomas than met the eye.

The room was hushed, tension thick enough to cut with a knife as Thomas stood up and walked over to her, his piercing gaze fixed on her. She sat there, composed, legs crossed, her posture a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside the Shelby family. Aunt Polly stood up to stand nearby her, watching over her like a hawk, her expression a mix of suspicion and curiosity. Thomas took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. He was a man accustomed to control, but in this moment, uncertainty flickered across his features. He was facing something he couldn't quite comprehend, a challenge to his families authority that struck at the very core of his being.

"Think of something… just something so I can prove it to yah.." her voice broke the silence, her eyes pleading for them to believe her. Thomas observed her closely, his mind calculating, trying to decipher her motives.

A soft smile tugged at Thomas's lips as he exchanged a knowing glance with Polly, his ever-reliable aunt, who stepped forward, her eyes fixed on hers. Polly was a woman of resilience, her past marked by pain and loss. She focused her thoughts, recalling the agony of losing her children, wrongfully taken and placed in foster care. Determination flickered in her eyes as she sought an answer, a validation of her claim.

"I’ve got it.." Polly's voice was steady, her tone revealing a mix of curiosity and skepticism. She delved into her memories, reliving the anguish of separation, hoping for a revelation that would lay her doubts to rest.

"Michael is safe.. but he was too young to even remember... and Anna..she’s dead." Her voice trailed off, a mixture of sorrow and determination lacing her words.

Thomas watched, his eyes never leaving the woman's face. He saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the slight tremor in her hand. He knew she was searching for the truth, seeking out the shadows that lurked within the depths of their hearts. He admired her tenacity, her unwillingness to back down in the face of uncertainty. She was a worthy adversary, one he could not afford to underestimate. Polly, broke the uneasy silence. Her voice was firm, yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. "Did anyone tell her about them?..at all?" Her words hung in the air, a question loaded with implications.

Thomas glanced at Polly, his expression unreadable. He knew what she was referring to, the secrets that lurked in the shadows of their family's past. He shook his head subtly, a silent signal to his brothers. "No pol.." Their response was unanimous, a chorus of denials, each voice laced with a hint of unease. The room fell silent again, the tension palpable. Thomas's mind raced, trying to anticipate the woman's next move. She was an enigma, a stranger with a mysterious power that had the potential to unravel their carefully guarded secrets.

“I couldn’t have possibly known that... but somehow I do... does anyone believe me now?” Her words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea. For a moment, the room was still, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth.

Thomas’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. He leaned forward slightly, the movement drawing all eyes to him. “Believe you, do we?” Thomas’s voice, a low, gravelly murmur, cut through the silence. Thomas looked around the room taking in everyone’s gaze and body language. The thick Birmingham accent gave his words a weight that was impossible to ignore. “That’s a matter yet to be settled, love. We’ve had our fair share of tricksters and liars. Convince me.”

The woman’s gaze didn’t falter, even under Thomas’s piercing scrutiny. She stepped closer to the table, her presence commanding attention. She began to recount details, intimate and precise, about each member of the Shelby family—details that no outsider could have known. Her words were laced with an eerie accuracy, each revelation a hammer blow against the wall of skepticism surrounding her. Arthur’s restless energy shifted, his brows furrowing deeper with each revelation. “How the bloody hell does she know all that, Tom?” he muttered, his voice a rough whisper filled with confusion and a hint of fear.

“Quiet, Arthur,” Polly interjected, her voice a sharp reprimand. Her eyes never left hers, searching for any sign of deceit.

A murmur rippled through the family, the revelation adding another layer of mystery to Thomas’s already enigmatic persona. Thomas leaned back, a small, almost imperceptible smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Interesting. So, you can’t see what I’m thinking, but you can see everyone else, Why should we trust you?” Thomas lit a cigarette.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the scrutiny. “Because I have no reason to lie. My gift, it’s both a blessing and a curse. I don’t want to use it to harm anyone. I just want to understand why I can’t read you, Thomas.”

Thomas tapped the ash from his cigarette, his eyes never leaving hers. “Maybe some things are better left unseen, eh?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of an unspoken warning.

Polly interjected, her curiosity piqued. “If you can’t read him, then what’s the point of you being here? We need someone who can give us more advantages, not a mystery to solve”

Her expression hardened, her resolve firming. “Just because I can’t read Thomas doesn’t mean I can’t be useful. There are things I know, things that could help you. Secrets of your enemies, plans that are being laid against you. I can be your ally.”

Thomas’s eyes narrowed, the calculating mind behind them whirring like a well-oiled machine. “And what do you want in return? Everyone has a price.”

Her gaze softened, the vulnerability in her eyes stark against her determined demeanor. “I want answers. I need to know why I can’t read you, Thomas. It’s like a part of my gift is broken, and you’re the key to fixing it.”

Thomas took a final drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray. He rose from his chair, his imposing figure towering over her. “We’ll see, won’t we? You’ll stay here, under our protection. But if you betray us, you’ll wish you’d never set foot in Birmingham. Understood?”

She nodded, the gravity of his words sinking in. “Understood.”

He turned to his family, his voice firm. “She stays. We’ll see if she’s worth the trouble. Keep an eye on her.”

As the family slowly dispersed, she was left standing in the flickering firelight, the enormity of her situation settling over her. Thomas lingered for a moment, his eyes meeting hers one last time before he walked away, his mind already plotting the next move in the intricate game of power and deception that was his life.

The sun's early light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a warm glow across her face. The gentle intrusion of morning eventually pulled her from the depths of sleep. She stirred, blinking against the brightness, her senses gradually coming alive. The room around her, dominated by its masculine furnishings and pervasive scent of tobacco and leather, reminded her of where she was. The previous day's family meeting, with its tense atmosphere and undercurrents of unspoken plans, played back in her mind. She pushed herself up, feeling the crisp linen sheets against her skin, and noticed the empty desk chair across the room where Thomas had spent the night.

Downstairs, Thomas had been up long before the sun. His mind never truly rested, always planning, always calculating. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as he paced the floor, cigarette smoke curling around him like a ghostly companion. The weight of leadership bore heavily on his shoulders, yet it was a mantle he wore with ease. He knew she was awake now, could sense it as keenly as he sensed the shifting tides of his own thoughts. He stubbed out his cigarette, the glowing ember dying with a soft hiss, and made his way back up the stairs.

The old wood groaned under his weight, each step announcing his ascent. At the door to his room, he paused, his hand resting on the worn brass knob. The sight of her sleeping so peacefully had been a stark contrast to the chaos that usually reigned in his world. He knocked lightly, a sound that was more a courtesy than a request for permission.

“Ada’s going to give you some of her clothes for today, because I need you to come with me.” His voice was low, gravelly, the thick Birmingham accent rolling off his tongue. There was a command in his tone, softened by the necessity of the situation.

She sat up fully now, the bed's slight creak joining the morning's quiet symphony. Her eyes met his, a mix of curiosity and wariness. Thomas stepped into the room, his presence filling the space. He moved with a predatory grace, the kind honed by years of navigating the treacherous waters of both war and business. He watched her, his sharp blue eyes taking in every detail—the way her hair fell across her shoulders, the slight tension in her frame. He could see the questions forming in her mind, but there was no time for answers now. The world outside this room was dangerous, and every second counted.

As she nodded, acceptance in her gaze, he turned and left the room, his footsteps retreating down the hall. He found Ada in the kitchen, her back to him as she poured a cup of tea. “She’s awake,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. Ada turned, her expression a mixture of concern and curiosity.

“Do you really think it’s wise to bring her along, Tommy?” she asked while handing a cup of tea to Thomas, Thomas took it and sat it down on the table behind him. Ada hoped she’d like tea.

“She needs to see what we’re dealing with. It’s the only way she’ll understand.” His voice was firm, brooking no argument. Ada sighed, nodding in reluctant agreement. She knew better than to challenge her brother when he was set on a course of action.

Ada turned on her foot and headed upstairs to Thomas’s room. Ada’s eyes flickered over to the woman seated on the edge of the bed, her expression a mix of curiosity and caution. Ada laid out a couple of dresses. She reached for a simple dress, its fabric soft and worn from frequent use. As she approached, she handed the dress to her and began to help her out of her nightclothes, fingers deftly undoing buttons and tying laces. The intimacy of the act seemed to break the ice, leading to the start of a conversation.

Ada’s voice was gentle but probing. “It’s nice to have someone else to talk to,” she began, her eyes meeting hers in the mirror.

She, though initially hesitant, felt the warmth in Ada’s tone. “I can tell, you are very… eager to help,” she responded, her voice soft but with an edge of guardedness.

Ada chuckled, a dry humor lacing her words. “You try and grow up in the Shelby family,” she said, her hands never pausing in their task. There was a brief silence, the weight of Ada’s words hanging in the air, hinting at the complexities and burdens of being a Shelby.

She shifted uncomfortably, her fingers playing with the hem of the dress. “I’d rather not—” she began, but Ada cut her off, her tone sharper now, curiosity piqued.

“How long have you had this… power?” Ada asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the her reflection. There was an intensity in her gaze, a need to understand this stranger who had been thrust into their lives.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. She could feel Ada’s eyes boring into her, demanding answers. “Since I was a child,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “At first, it was just a feeling, an intuition. But as I got older, it became more defined, more precise.” Her eyes were calm, “Sometimes I’ll look at someone and see what their looking at through their perspective”

Ada nodded, absorbing the information. She could see the toll it had taken on her, the weight of knowing everyone’s truths, their lies, their secrets. “Must’ve been a right burden,” she said softly, more to herself than to her.

She nodded, her eyes downcast. “It’s not something I asked for. It’s a curse as much as it is a gift,” she admitted, her voice tinged with bitterness. “People don’t like it when you can see through them.”

Ada’s hands paused for a moment, resting on her shoulders. “I can imagine,” she said quietly. “But it’s a useful gift, especially for us.” There was a hint of steel in her voice, a recognition of the potential advantages such a power could bring to the Shelby family.

She looked up, meeting Ada’s gaze in the mirror. “Useful, yes. But, people don’t like their secrets exposed,” she said, her eyes dark with memories of past encounters.

Ada’s grip tightened slightly on her shoulders. “In this family, we live with danger every day. It’s part of who we are. But if you’re with us, you’ll be protected,” she promised, her voice firm and reassuring.

She smiled faintly, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “Thank you, Ada. It means a lot to hear that,” she said, her voice softening.

Ada nodded, returning the smile. “We take care of our own. Just remember that,” she said, resuming her task of helping her dress. The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the rustling of fabric and the occasional murmur of reassurance from Ada.

As the dress was finally secured, Ada stepped back, surveying her work. “There, you look much better,” she said with a satisfied smile. She turned to face her, gratitude evident in her eyes.

“Thank you, Ada. For everything,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity. Ada nodded, a warm smile on her lips.

“Come on, let’s go downstairs. The others will be waiting,” Ada said, leading the way out of the room. As they descended the stairs, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging, a rare feeling in her life.

Ada’s hand was warm and firm as she guided her down the narrow staircase, each step creaking underfoot in the dimly lit hallway of the Shelby residence. The scent of stale smoke and aged wood filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of tea that wafted from the kitchen. As you reached the bottom, Thomas was standing near the table, the end of his cigarette glowing like a tiny ember in the shadows. His presence was magnetic, the kind that demanded attention without uttering a word.

As she entered the kitchen, Thomas turned his head slightly, his sharp blue eyes fixing on her with an intensity that could cut through steel. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, the end glowing brightly for a moment before he exhaled, the smoke trailing from his lips in a languid stream. His gaze never wavered, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, a mix of amusement and something far deeper, more inscrutable.

"Sit," he finally said, his voice low and gravelly, the Birmingham accent wrapping around the word like a command rather than a suggestion. He gestured to the chair opposite him, his eyes never leaving hers. She moved to the chair, feeling the weight of his gaze following her every step. As she sat, she couldn't help but notice how the room seemed to shrink around him, his presence filling every corner.

Thomas leaned back slightly, his posture relaxed yet coiled, like a predator at rest but ready to strike at any moment. "Ada's made tea," he continued, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Not that I fancy it much, but she says it calms the nerves." He took another drag from his cigarette, the end flaring briefly. "Though I reckon you've got a bit more on your mind than a cup of tea, eh?"

“Where are we going..for me to be dressed..like this?” Her voice wavered slightly, betraying a mixture of curiosity and unease.

"You're dressed like that 'cause I told you to be," he replied, his voice low and gravelly, each word coated with his unmistakable Birmingham accent. His gaze traveled from her face to her attire, a dress that clung to her curves in all the right places, its elegance undeniable. "We're goin' somewhere... important."

Thomas stood up, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly as he offered her his hand. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering to his outstretched hand before finally accepting it. His grip was firm yet gentle as he pulled her up from the chair. The faint scent of his cologne, a mix of tobacco and something distinctly masculine, enveloped her as she rose to her feet.

“You can finish the tea when you get back, come with me,” he said, his voice a low rumble that carried an unspoken command.

She glanced back at the steaming cup of tea on the table, then back at him, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Where are we going?”

“I’ve got a business deal, you and your little powers are coming as well,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The meeting spot was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Birmingham, its crumbling facade a stark contrast to the industrial strength of the city. The air was thick with the lingering smell of coal and metal, a testament to the area's relentless labor. Thomas stood by the entrance, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings with a calculating intensity. His tailored suit, impeccably clean and pressed, stood out against the dilapidation, a symbol of his power and control amidst chaos. The cigarette between his lips glowed softly as he took a drag, exhaling slowly, the smoke curling around him like a shroud.

"If you know anything already, say it now," Thomas demanded, his voice low and commanding, the thick Birmingham accent adding a layer of grit to his words. His gaze was fixed on her, unyielding and piercing, searching for any sign of deception.

She rolled her eyes, a gesture of impatience that did not go unnoticed by him. "It doesn’t work like that. I need to see them," she replied, her tone defiant yet resigned.

Thomas's jaw tightened, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he suppressed his irritation. He had little patience for the supernatural, for things he could not control or predict. But she had proven useful before, her abilities to discern truth from lies invaluable in the murky world of crime and betrayal he navigated daily.

Entering the warehouse and walking a bit, Thomas and her found themselves face to face with a group of men, their expressions guarded yet curious. One of them, a burly figure with a gruff demeanor, spoke up, his tone tinged with suspicion. "You said you were comin' alone, Mr. Shelby."

Thomas raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Well," he said, his voice smooth and measured, "it's not like you're afraid of a woman, eh?" With a flick of his wrist, he lit a cigarette, the flame casting a fleeting glow on his features.

The men exchanged wary glances, clearly unsettled by Thomas's casual defiance. But he remained unruffled, his gaze steady as he assessed the situation. He knew the importance of projecting strength in such encounters, of asserting his dominance without resorting to overt displays of aggression. Turning to her at his side, Thomas gestured for her to take a seat, his manner solicitous yet authoritative. He knew she was more than capable of holding her own, but he also wanted to ensure her safety. As she settled into the chair, he took up a position beside her, his posture relaxed yet alert.

Her gaze lingered on each man in turn, sizing them up with a practiced eye. But Thomas noticed something else in her expression, a flicker of unease that she tried to conceal. He followed her gaze, his own eyes narrowing as he tried to discern what had caught her attention. She shifted in her seat, her hand moving stealthily under the table. Thomas felt her touch on his thigh, a subtle warning that set his senses on high alert. He remained outwardly composed, but inside, he was ready for anything.

His hand moved, casually resting on his thigh, where her hand lay. The touch was light, almost fleeting, but she felt the coolness of his pinky ring against her skin. It was a stark contrast to the warmth of his palm, a reminder of the world he inhabited, where even the smallest details spoke volumes. The group of men across from them stated their terms, demanding an unreasonable 50% stake in the deal. Thomas's response was a soft, almost amused chuckle, his hand rising to cover his mouth as if to hide a smile. He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and determination.

"30% is as high as I'll go," he stated firmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority. There was a steely resolve in his tone, a hint of a challenge, daring them to push further.

As the negotiations continued, Thomas's demeanor remained unchanged, his expressions carefully controlled yet revealing glimpses of his true thoughts. His eyes, sharp and calculating, never wavered from her, silently communicating a sense of trust and mutual understanding. Despite the tension in the air, there was a sense of mutual respect between them, a silent acknowledgment of each other's skills and prowess. Thomas's words were measured, his sentences calculated for maximum impact, each word carrying the weight of his authority.

The atmosphere in the warehouse shifted, the air thick with anticipation as the negotiations reached a critical point. Thomas remained calm, his demeanor unflappable, a testament to his years of experience and cunning. Finally, a deal was struck, the terms agreed upon. Thomas leaned back, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He extended his hand, a silent gesture of respect and acknowledgment of their successful negotiation.

Thomas lay in bed, the weight of recent events pressing heavily upon him. Grace's betrayal lingered in his mind, a bitter reminder of the risks he faced in his line of work. Yet, despite the sting of her deception, Thomas couldn't deny that he had achieved a significant coup by securing those guns. It was a bold move, one that elevated the Shelby family's status and solidified his own position in the world. In that moment, he realized that he no longer needed Grace; he had someone else now, someone better. As he lay there, lost in his thoughts, a soft knock at the door interrupted his reverie. It was her—the woman with the gift, the one who could see through lies and secrets, the one who intrigued him like no other. She had become a part of the Shelby family, but their relationship remained at an impasse, a silent dance of unspoken desires and unfulfilled expectations.

"Thomas, are you decent?" Her voice was tentative, respectful of his privacy yet tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"Polly told me to come up here, said you wanted to talk." Her words hung in the air, laden with unspoken questions, a reminder of the complexities that defined their relationship.

With a sigh, he pushed himself upright, the sheets slipping off his form as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of resignation, before finally speaking. "Come in, luv," he said, his voice low and tinged with weariness.

The door creaked open, revealing her silhouette in the doorway. She entered the room, her presence a calming balm to his troubled mind. She approached the bed, her movements graceful yet purposeful, and sat down beside him. For a while, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Thomas studied her face, the way the dim light played across her features, highlighting the determination in her eyes and the softness of her expression. She was a puzzle to him, a mystery waiting to be unraveled. Thomas sat on the edge of his bed, his posture rigid yet composed, betraying little of the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. The woman beside him mirrored his stillness, her gaze fixed on him expectantly. Silence enveloped them, thick and heavy, pregnant with unspoken words.

Finally, she broke the quietude with a soft sigh, her voice a gentle breeze in the room's stillness. "What did you want to talk about?"

He didn't answer immediately, instead taking a moment to collect his thoughts. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions and memories, a tumultuous sea he navigated with practiced ease. She was a reminder of his vulnerabilities, of the parts of himself he preferred to keep hidden. But there was something about her that drew him in, a magnetic pull he couldn't resist.

He spoke, his voice low and measured, carrying the unmistakable cadence of a man born and bred in Birmingham. "I wanted to talk about us," he began, his eyes never leaving hers. "About what this is, what it could be."

His words hung between them, deep with meaning. Thomas was not one to speak without purpose, and every word was carefully chosen, weighed for its impact. He watched as she processed his words, her expression unreadable. He knew she was guarded, that she kept her true feelings hidden behind a mask of indifference.

"I know I'm not an easy man to understand," he continued, his tone softening slightly. "But I want you to know that I care about you, more than I care to admit. And I know I've made mistakes, done things I'm not proud of.

"Are you... are you asking me on a date?" she asked, her words hesitant, as if unsure of what his response might be. Thomas considered her question carefully. He was not a man known for his romantic gestures, but there was something about her that intrigued him, something he couldn't quite put into words.

He leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "A date?" he repeated, the words sounding foreign on his tongue. "I suppose you could call it that, if you like." His voice was calm, almost indifferent, but there was a glint in his eyes that betrayed his true feelings.

He reached out, his hand brushing against hers. "I must admit, I find myself quite taken with you," he confessed, his voice low and husky. "I've never been one for small talk or idle chatter, but with you... well, it's different."

“I... don’t know what to say,” she finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, fragile and uncertain, like a leaf caught in a gust of wind. Thomas’s gaze remained fixed on her, unwavering, his expression inscrutable.

His hand trails up her body, starting from her waist and moving slowly upwards. His touch is firm yet gentle, calloused fingers grazing over the fabric of her dress. The sensation sends a shiver down her spine, and she can feel her pulse quicken. Thomas's eyes follow the path of his hand, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He cups her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin in a tender caress. As he leans in, the world seems to narrow down to the space between them. The scent of his cologne, a mix of tobacco and musk, fills her senses. His breath, warm and tinged with whiskey, mingles with hers as their lips draw closer. There's a moment of stillness, a brief pause where time seems to hold its breath. Then, their lips meet, a slow and deliberate connection that speaks of longing and restraint. Thomas's kiss is both commanding and gentle, a contradiction that reflects his complex nature. His lips move against hers with a practiced ease, but there's an underlying hunger, a desperation that betrays his usually composed demeanor. His other arm wraps around her body, pulling her closer, lifting her effortlessly onto his lap. She can feel the strength in his embrace, the raw power that he wields with such control.

As she settles on his lap, the intimacy of the position becomes undeniable. Her legs drape over his thighs, and she can feel the hardness of his muscles beneath her. His hand, which had been cupping her cheek, moves to tangle in her hair, pulling her head back slightly to deepen the kiss. There's a sense of urgency now, a need that has been held back for too long. Thomas's kisses trail from her lips to her jaw, then down to the delicate curve of her neck. Each touch of his lips sends a jolt of electricity through her body, and she can't help but arch into him. His breath is hot against her skin, and she can hear the faintest hint of a growl in his throat, a sound that sends a thrill of anticipation through her.

"Y’ drive me mad, y’ know that?" he murmurs against her skin, his voice low and rough, the accent thickening his words. "Bloody hell, I can't get y’ outta me mind."

His hands roam her body with increasing boldness, tracing the contours of her curves, memorizing the feel of her beneath his touch. She responds in kind, her hands exploring the broad expanse of his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. There's a sense of urgency in their movements, a frantic need to be closer, to feel more. Thomas's fingers find the hem of her dress, and he begins to lift it slowly, his knuckles grazing her thighs. He pauses, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. There's a question there, an unspoken plea for permission, for confirmation that this is what she wants. His blue eyes search hers, and she can see the vulnerability there, the fear of rejection hidden behind the mask of confidence.

She nods, and the relief in his eyes is palpable. He resumes his exploration, his touch growing bolder as he slides the dress higher. The fabric bunches around her waist, and his hands move to caress the bare skin of her thighs. There's a reverence in his touch, a worshipful quality that makes her feel cherished and desired. Thomas's kisses grow more fervent, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply, as if trying to imprint her scent into his memory. She can feel the rapid beat of his heart against her chest, a mirror of her own racing pulse.

"I've wanted this for so long," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Wanted y’ for so long."

Thomas’s hands are deliberate and steady as they glide up to the zipper of her dress. Each movement is a study in restraint, his fingers brushing against her skin with a tantalizing slowness that speaks volumes of his self-control. He is a man who commands a room with a glance, yet here, in the privacy of his bedroom, he exercises a different kind of power. His breath is warm against the back of her neck as he gathers her hair, pulling it gently away from the zipper. The intimacy of the gesture, the way his calloused fingers entwine with her soft strands, sends a shiver down her spine. He exhales, the sound deep and husky, a mix of anticipation and longing. His eyes, cold and calculating in the boardroom, now burn with a different fire as he slowly pulls the zipper down. The sound is almost imperceptible, a quiet whisper in the charged silence of the room. The dress, now freed from its constraints, slips down her shoulders, cascading like a waterfall to pool around her waist. The jumbled fabric, a mixture of silk and lace, sits in her lap, an unspoken testament to the unraveling moment.

Thomas’s gaze leaves the crook of her neck, traveling down to rest on her bralette. The lace is delicate, a stark contrast to his roughened hands. He pauses, taking in the sight before him, his eyes darkening with desire. His breath hitches, a sharp intake that betrays his otherwise composed exterior. He is a man used to getting what he wants, but in this moment, he allows himself to savor the anticipation. He leans in, his lips brushing against her shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses that burn with intensity. His hands, no longer content to remain idle, trace the lines of her bralette, feeling the texture beneath his fingertips. The sensation is electric, each touch igniting a fire that threatens to consume them both.

He pauses, his lips lingering just above her collarbone, and he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, “You’ve no idea what you do to me, love.”

Her response is a soft sigh, her body arching towards him as if drawn by an invisible force. Thomas’s hands slide down her sides, feeling the curve of her waist beneath his palms. He savors the moment, his touch firm yet gentle, a study in contrasts. He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, the world outside ceases to exist. It’s just them, two souls entwined in a dance as old as time. He shifts, positioning himself so that he can pull the dress completely away, letting it fall to the floor in a rustle of fabric. The sight of her, now exposed save for the delicate lace of her bralette and her stockings along with the garters sends a jolt of desire through him. His eyes rake over her form, taking in every detail, committing it to memory. He reaches out, his fingers tracing the edge of the lace, his touch feather-light. “Beautiful,” he whispers, the word a reverent prayer on his lips.

Thomas’s hands find her waist again, pulling her closer until their bodies are flush against each other. He can feel the rapid beat of her heart, mirroring his own. The intimacy of the moment, the raw vulnerability, is a stark contrast to the hardened exterior he presents to the world. Here, with her, he can let his guard down, even if just for a moment. His lips find hers, a slow, deliberate kiss that speaks of promises and desires unspoken. He tastes her, the sweetness mingling with the lingering bitterness of whiskey. The kiss deepens, becoming a battle of wills, each of them fighting for control while surrendering to the inevitable pull of their attraction. He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, his breath ragged. “I need you,” he confesses, the words raw and honest.

Thomas's breath is warm against her neck, each exhale a reminder of his presence. He leans in, lips brushing against her ear. "Tell me what yeh want," he whispers, the words a command wrapped in velvet. His voice is thick with an accent that makes her shiver, each word a promise and a challenge.

Her response is a whisper, barely audible, but he catches every word. His reaction is immediate, a sharp intake of breath followed by a low growl of approval. He shifts, moving to face her fully, his hands framing her face. "Yeh're sure 'bout this?" he asks, the question hanging in the air between them. His eyes search hers, looking for any hint of hesitation. She nods, and that's all the confirmation he needs. His hands move with purpose now, sliding the straps of her bralette off her shoulders, the fabric slipping away to reveal more of her. He exhales sharply, his eyes drinking in the sight of her beautiful breasts. He leans in, pressing a kiss to her collarbone, then another, trailing a path downwards. Each kiss is a promise, a mark of his desire and intention.

Thomas's movements are controlled, each touch precise and deliberate. His fingers trace patterns on her skin, exploring the curves and contours of her body. He pauses at her waist, thumb brushing against the smooth skin just above her hipbone. His gaze lifts to meet hers, and there's a question in his eyes, a silent query for permission. She nods again, and his hand moves lower, tracing the edge of her underwear, her lace stockings and those lovely garters of hers. With a sudden, decisive movement, Thomas pulls her up and off his lap, gently laying her down on her back. He moves over her, his body a protective shield, the weight of his presence grounding her. His eyes never leave hers, even as his hands move to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing lightly over her cheeks. He leans in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that is both tender and demanding. The taste of him is intoxicating, a blend of whiskey and smoke that she finds herself craving more of. His tongue brushes against hers, a dance of heat and desire that leaves her breathless.

His hand continued its descent, fingers curling around the delicate lace of her underwear. He tugged slightly, the fabric stretching under the pressure, a reminder of the thin barrier between them and the heat of their desire. His other hand cupped her face, holding her in place as he kissed her harder, more desperately. She responded with a soft, involuntary moan, her body arching toward him, seeking more of his touch. As their kiss deepened, his hand slipped beneath the lace, fingers exploring the softness of her cunt. Her sharp inhale filled the space between them, a sound that was both a gasp and a plea. His touch was slow, deliberate, the rough pads of his fingers contrasting with the delicate fabric of her underwear. He moved with a controlled intensity, his every action filled with purpose and intent. He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes, his breath hot against her lips.

"Y'like that, don't ya?" His voice was a low, rough whisper, the thick Birmingham accent adding a gritty edge to his words. He watched her intently, his thumb beginning to move in slow, sloppy circles against her aching clit.

She could only nod, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with each agonizingly slow movement of his thumb. Her hips bucked instinctively, seeking more of his touch, but he held her steady, controlling the pace, the intensity.

"Fuckin' beautiful," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. His thumb pressed a little harder, the circles growing tighter, more focused. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, filling the room with the sound of her pleasure. He seemed to drink it in, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

His fingers teased her entrance, the slight pressure a promise of what was to come. She whimpered, her body trembling with need. Thomas leaned in again, his lips brushing against her ear. "Tell me what y'want," he demanded softly, his breath warm against her skin.

"Please, Tommy," she managed to gasp out, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I need you."

"Need me, do ya?" His tone was teasing, almost mocking, but there was a softness in his eyes, a hint of the tenderness he tried so hard to hide. He kissed her again, his thumb never stopping its relentless assault on her clit. "Say it again."

"I need you," she repeated, her voice stronger this time, filled with urgency. "Please, Tommy."

He growled low in his throat, a sound of approval. His fingers slid inside her, and she cried out, her head falling back against the pillows. The sensation was intense, almost too much, but she couldn't get enough. He moved slowly at first, his fingers curling inside her, hitting just the right spot.

"That's it, love," he murmured, his voice a rough whisper. "Take what y'need."

She writhed beneath him, her body arching into his touch. The pleasure was almost unbearable, every nerve ending on fire. Thomas watched her, his eyes dark with desire, his thumb still working her clit in those slow, sloppy circles. He added another finger, stretching her, filling her, and she moaned louder, her hands clutching at the sheets.

"You're so fuckin' tight," he breathed, his voice filled with awe. "So wet for me."

She could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. All she could do was feel, her body responding to him in ways she didn't think possible. He continued to move his fingers inside her, his thumb never missing a beat. The pleasure was building, a tight coil of heat in her belly, ready to snap.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "Come on my fingers."

It was too much. With a strangled cry, she came, her body convulsing around his fingers. The pleasure was blinding, a white-hot wave that crashed over her, leaving her breathless and trembling. Thomas didn't stop, his fingers and thumb working her through her orgasm, prolonging the bliss until she was a boneless heap on the bed. He slowly withdrew his hand, his fingers glistening with her arousal. He brought them to his lips, his eyes locked onto hers as he licked them clean. "Fuckin' delicious," he murmured, a satisfied smile on his face. Thomas sat up, his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. His lips curved into a knowing smile as his hand moved to his belt, the buckle coming undone with a soft click. With a practiced ease, he slid the leather strap out of the loops, letting it fall to the floor with a muted thud.

"See what you do to me, eh?" His voice was low, with a rough edge that hinted at the desire burning within him. He pushed his suit pants down just enough to reveal the outline of his arousal straining against the fabric of his briefs. The sight made her pulse quicken, a flush creeping up her neck. With a slow, deliberate motion, Thomas freed himself from his underwear, his throbbing cock springing free, eager for the contact that was to come. Crawling back towards her, he positioned himself above her, his cock pressing against her, aching for the warmth and wetness he knew awaited him

He positioned himself between her legs, the head of his cock brushing against her dripping slit, teasing her with the promise of what was to come. With a low growl, Thomas slid his cock up and down her slick folds, relishing in the sensation of her wetness coating him. He savored the feeling of her heat against him, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. Each pass made him ache with need, the desire to be buried deep inside her consuming him. He lowered himself onto her, his body pressing against hers as he continued to tease her with his cock, sliding it along her slit with agonizing slowness. He could feel her hips rising to meet his, her own need mirroring his own. The anticipation was almost unbearable, each moment stretching out into eternity as they danced on the edge of pleasure.

With a final, torturous glide, Thomas positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of his cock poised to enter her. He locked eyes with her, a silent question passing between them, a question to which the answer was inevitable. And then, with a single, powerful thrust, he was inside her, burying himself; bottoming out in her. The feeling of her tightness enveloping him was almost overwhelming, a sensation that threatened to consume him. He began to move, slow and deliberate at first, savoring the feeling of her around him. But the need for more, began to slowly creep up his spine. He began to thrust harder, deeper, driving into her with an urgency born of his desire. She met his thrusts with equal fervor, her nails digging into his back, her hips rising to meet his with each powerful stroke. They moved together, a symphony of desire and need, lost in the heat of the moment. The sounds of their passion filled the room, mingling with their ragged breaths and the creak of the bed beneath them.

With a gentle yet firm grasp, he pulled her up, pressing her chest against his chest, his arms wrapping around her in a possessive embrace. His body moved with a controlled yet primal rhythm, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure coursing through them both.

"You take me so well, eh'.. like you were made for me.." His words were a low, husky murmur, the accent of his voice adding a sensual edge to the intimate moment. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, planting soft kisses along the curve of her shoulder, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate as he chased his own release.

Thomas's hands roamed over her body, tracing the curves and contours with a familiarity that spoke of countless shared moments. His touch was electric, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume her whole. She arched against him, meeting his every thrust with a passion that matched his own, their bodies moving together in a symphony of desire. He could feel her responding to him, her body arching and writhing beneath him, her nails digging into his back in a silent plea for more. He drove into her with a relentless intensity, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate as he neared the edge of his control.

His body moved with a controlled urgency, his hips driving forward in a steady rhythm as he hovered over her. Sweat glistened on his brow, his muscles tense with the effort of holding back, of prolonging the exquisite torture of their joining. His eyes, dark with desire, bore into hers, a silent promise of the pleasure yet to come. With each thrust, he buried himself deeper inside her, a low grunt escaping his lips as he felt her tightness enveloping him. His movements were measured, purposeful, as if he were savoring every moment, every sensation. But beneath the surface, a primal hunger simmered, driving him ever onward, ever deeper. Thomas's control began to slip, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. He groaned, a guttural sound of pleasure and need, as he felt himself teetering on the edge of release. But he held back, unwilling to let go, unwilling to relinquish the control he so fiercely guarded.The air was thick with the heady scent of their desire, a potent mixture of sweat and sex that fueled their passion. Thomas's body glistened with exertion, his muscles straining with the effort of holding himself back, of prolonging the inevitable. But even as he fought against his own desires, he knew that he was powerless to resist.

With a final, desperate thrust, Thomas surrendered to the inevitable, his body tensing as he spilled himself inside her with a guttural cry of release. He collapsed against her, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, his body spent and sated. They lay there together, entwined in the aftermath of their passion, their bodies still humming with the aftershocks of their lovemaking. Thomas pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his voice low and husky as he whispered words of love and adoration, his Birmingham accent lending a melodic cadence to his words.

Thomas pulls back slightly, looking at her eyes. He studies them for a moment, as if trying to memorize every detail. “Yer too good for this life,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Too good for me.”

She shakes her head slightly, her lips parting to protest, but he silences her with a look. “Don’t,” he says firmly, his voice a mix of frustration and affection. “Don’t say it. Just... let me have this moment.” There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the armor, and it takes her breath away.

The kitchen was thick with tension, the kind that hung in the air like smoke after a heavy night of drinking. Polly, Arthur, John, Finn, Ada, and Michael sat around the table, their eyes flicking towards the staircase with an unspoken understanding. They had heard everything—every moan, every cry, every whispered name—echoing down the stairs, carrying the weight of Thomas's passion.

John leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he glanced at Polly. "Well..." he drawled, breaking the heavy silence. "You think he’ll marry her if she gets pregnant?"

Polly's eyes narrowed, her gaze shifting from John to the others around the table. Her face was a mask of contemplation, lines etched deep from years of worry and hard living. "Thomas is a complicated man," she finally said, her voice low and measured. "Marriage ain't something he takes lightly."

Arthur, nursing a glass of whiskey, let out a snort. "Complicated, yeah. But he's got a soft spot for her, always has." His voice was rough, tinged with the raspy edge of too many cigarettes and too much alcohol. He glanced at John, his eyes shadowed with a mixture of amusement and something darker. "But a baby changes things. Makes a man think different."

Finn, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was still finding his place in the family, still trying to prove himself. "Thomas... he's always been about control, right? Wouldn't a baby make things... unpredictable?"

Ada, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up. "Thomas isn't the same man he was before the war. He's seen too much, done too much. But love... love can change a man." Her voice was softer, almost wistful, as she looked towards the staircase, imagining her brother with the woman who had captured his heart.

Polly nodded, her sharp eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "Thomas knows that better than anyone. But if she’s pregnant, if there’s a child... he’ll do what he thinks is right. For the family, and for himself."

The kitchen fell into a momentary silence, the only sound being the faint ticking of a clock on the wall. It was John who broke the stillness, his voice carrying a note of amusement as he leaned forward. "Remember that time that bloke yelled at her in the Garrison?" His eyes sparkled with mischief as he recounted the memory. "Fuck, I thought he would have blown his face off right then and there."

The room erupted in a chorus of chuckles and knowing nods, the memory of that night vivid in their minds. Finn, always eager to join in on the banter, grinned broadly. "Well, it didn’t matter... Tommy gutted him like a pig that night. We all were there."

Arthur, his eyes wide with a mix of amusement and caution, leaned forward, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "He’s definitely become more soft, but do not tell him I said that."

The room fell silent again, each of them lost in their thoughts. The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew their attention, and they looked up as Thomas appeared, his expression inscrutable. He moved with the quiet confidence of a man used to command, his presence filling the room.

"Talking about me, are we?" His voice was low, the Birmingham accent thick and familiar. He glanced at each of them, reading their faces with the same keen insight he applied to business deals and battlefields.

John, unable to hide the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth, was the first to speak. “Never expected you so... you get the point, Tom.” His tone was teasing, but there was an underlying respect, a recognition of the man who led them, both in the streets and in their personal lives.

Thomas's eyes narrowed slightly, a glimmer of amusement mixed with warning. "And what exactly did you expect, John?" He moved to the table, pulling out a chair with a scrape that seemed louder than it should have been, the sound filling the room as he settled himself with deliberate ease.

Polly, ever the matriarch, leaned back in her chair, her sharp eyes watching Thomas with a mixture of amusement and concern. "We heard everything, Thomas," she said, her tone even but tinged with a hint of reproach. "Walls are thin in this house."

Thomas shrugged, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "I wasn't exactly trying to be quiet, was I?" He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him, exuding a relaxed confidence that belied the tension simmering beneath the surface.

Arthur, always the blunt one, grunted in agreement. "Bloody hell, Tom. Thought the house was gonna come down with all that noise." There was a twinkle in his eye, a hint of the old camaraderie they shared in the trenches.

Finn, younger and still finding his place within the family dynamics, looked between them, unsure whether to join in or keep his mouth shut. He opted for the latter, focusing on the patterns in the wood grain of the table.

Ada, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement, shook her head. "You could at least have some consideration for the rest of us, Thomas." Her tone was light, but there was a serious undertone, a reminder that their lives were intertwined in ways that went beyond blood and business.

Thomas met her gaze, unflinching. "Consideration, Ada? When have we ever lived lives that allowed for such luxuries?"

Author’s Notes:

This power that she has is HEAVILY BASED OFF: Nyoomian

Yes, Grace lolz. And yeah so what if I make the plot messy, I had an idea and ran with it but like it’s there it’s just the lore..please please please don’t hate this. Uhhh reblog if you enjoyed it and like it please it boosts my ego lolz.. I’m just a girl..

And yeah he makes bank through those months you get to know the family. Let me have lore that’s messy, it’s LORE FOR A REASON!!

[sspicat]

So here's come my Story about them..

So Alpheratz has mostly grew up with Spica.. then i say, before they met eachothers they live a completely different life. Alpheratz lives in West and Spica lives in South. Then Alpheratz got transported to South for some reason ( cuz he was raised along side with Spica so.) Schedar must be busy with work yk great Socerers things so he couldn't take care of Alpheratz. Well actually Schedar choose Spica's family where Alpheratz can live when Schedar's out for something ( Schedar choose spica's family cuz yk family business stuff Spica's father helped Schedar with Tower construction) That's why Alpheratz house is empty as ghost house.

And When they first met eachother idk They were like "Do i have to live with him?" giving eachother Side eyes💀. In their Kid days they might have get along with eachother. They were very good friends😇 Look they even rode a small boat together. Sometimes Spica visit his mother's Animal Sanctuary. And Spica would chase Alpheratz all the way down to the hall way if he didnt finish his Homework. Alpheratz will be sleeping in the backyard and Spica reading novel beside him (jshakiwobsq i can't) Alpheratz will always prank Spica.(jit legit). They almost had a better childhood then ME. When they start gaining new brain cells.. i mean when they grew up in their teen years alot of things change. (This take place after First great disaster and after Spica's mother death really change Spica. let me explain, Spica used to be much Happier and open heart before his mother's death. Spica's mother takes a big role in his life. After she died Spica was kinda heart broken??? like he lost someone he cares and loves about. That's why he's kinda Cold hearted.. but still loves animal remind his memory of his past. and Alpheratz and Spica both suffer alot from great disaster🙂)

In their teen years They go to the same school together. Spica's always sits in the front. and had alot of friends in business and always study hard and get good grades. in the other hand Alpheratz sits back of the class and always slack of but still gets good grades without studying (Lazy Genius fr) . After Contell academy was found ( Ahhh School ohhh NOO). For some reason Schedar's gave all the responsibility of Alpheratz to Spica (💀). That's why Spica always chase Alpheratz. ( He's not doing for you He's doing this cuz Schedar asked him to) Nah now Alpheratz is running away for his life. Spica is about to kill him.

Legend says that Spica is still chasing Alpheratz down the hall way 😇🤝 i have talk alot of nonsense today... *flies away*

[mirahuyooo]

hello!i hope you're doing fine.so my bff's bday is on the way and she was going into some hard stuff so i am making a request for her ,if you dont mind would you write seokjin xreader in Hogwarts!au . Reader is in slytherin and you are free to choose jin's house just make it sweet and stuff(my bff loves chess and cats idk why i am saying that but it may give u ideas) i am so sorry if i took sm if ur time i just want her to cheer up and be happy.

Also take Care and don't overwork yourself thank u bye!

Take a Break | ksj

— In which, your dearest Seokjin urges you to take a break from studying for the N.E.W.T.s

word count: 2,198 content/s: fluff, wHOLESOME HOURS, wizard exams are still exams, stressed reader is stressed (still having war flashbacks from mine lmao), sort of hurt/comfort uwu, family issues, a bunch of bullies appear to ruin the moment, blood purity prejudice, established relationship? (kind of lol), reader is a pureblood Slytherin and Jinnie is a muggleborn Hufflepuff! Hogwarts AU pairing: kim seokjin x reader

[masterlist] | do you also have a [request]?

A/N: First of all, I just now remember the title is also a song from Hamilton (omg Slytherin!Hamilton???? jkjkjk) bUT THAT’S BESIDES THE POINT! I hope you liked this anon! I hope it wasn’t late for the occasion either and that your friend finds this imagine well!~ Happy birthday to her! I hope she gets through that rough patch, whatever it may be 🥺💖💕💞

Also, I haven’t consumed anything Hogwarts (AU and otherwise) in a while so idk if this does well (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) bUT I do hope I wrote it well enough for the AU! I also know Jin is mostly a Gryffindor in these AUs but Hufflepuff!Jin??? Who values loyalty and is fiercely loyal himself? Who takes care of his friends and defends them like a true badger? Who always offers food from the kitchens????? SOFT HUFFLEPUFF! JIN FOR SOFT HOURS!

Shoulders heavy with the weight of a promising future, you’re rendered hunched before one of the many tables in the library, books of all sorts languidly flying overhead to their designated destinations. While you usually love the peaceful sanctuary that is the library of Hogwarts, the looming N.E.W.T. condemns you and many others to its old, wooden desks, books of all different subjects surrounding and chaining you to a fate of stiff necks, panic, and headaches. 

For hours now, you’ve been fiddling with the green and silver fabric of your tie with one hand and hurriedly jotting down notes in the other, murmuring the words you see on the thick book of potions above your notebook. 

“I’m telling you, (Y/N),” a voice lulls you out of the garbled mess of notes you constructed, and so does the gentle warmth of a hand lightly brushing your hair. “Take a break.”

Beside you is a Hufflepuff who's irritatingly being too lax about this whole pressure of the future fiasco—fluffy, brown curls prettily framing a charming face that is absent of the furrowed brows and frown you're currently sporting. Damn, this handsome bastard. (You mean that, of course, in the most affectionate of vexes.)

Kim Seokjin seemed to have been content with his studying for the moment, now leaving it unattended in favor of leaning closer to your chair. You have to wrangle his comforting hand off your head before it could ever tempt you to leisure, straightening your posture in your seat and looking around for Madam Pince. “You know I can’t,” you exasperatedly sigh, smoothing your hair over, “I have to—”

“Have to pass the N.E.W.T.s with flying colors. Yes, yes. I know,” Seokjin finishes the sentence you’ve been reciting since the exam season started, half-heartedly rolling his eyes before he fixes them on you with a look of concern amidst his soft scolding. “But, you won’t be able to do that if you pass out from exhaustion now, will you?”

Like many of your peers in Slytherin, you were ambitious, and you wanted to be many things, but it mostly boils down to potions and magical creatures. From a young age, the adventures of Newt Scamander captured your intrigue the moment you read them—the fascinating animals and all the places in the world that hold these wonders. Stubbornness is both your strength and flaw, your sights set on following his lead regardless if your ambition collided with your parents’ own desire to have you be an auror, instead. 

Before you ever found company in Seokjin and his gaggle of boys, you were a solitary student like Min Yoongi was, spending most of your time with either your cat or the critters you meet in the forest or school grounds, and further cementing magizoology in your heart and mind. (You even befriended a mermaid you often saw through the windows of the Slytherin common room!)

Your parents often frowned upon your plans, immensely upset to hear that after graduating, you intended to be a magizoologist while owning your own apothecary, perhaps even using potions to help treat creatures. (Sort of like a veterinarian in the muggle world—as Seokjin once told you.) 

Granted, you wouldn’t necessarily need to pass the N.E.W.T.s to be a magizoologist, but you needed one for Potions to become a potions master. For petty purposes, you also felt the need to do well in your other subjects, just to rub it in your parents’ face that your future wouldn’t be without direction. Hence, you practically holding up in the library as the dreaded exams approach closer and closer by the day.   

Seokjin, on the other hand, intended on becoming a healer at St. Mungo’s after your final year together at Hogwarts. Surely, with the required credentials for becoming one, he’d understand your plight of worrying about the results of the exams. Yet, here he was, studying earnestly yet knowing where to stop—unlike you, apparently. 

A strict clear of the throat commands your attention elsewhere, Madam Pince standing in the nearest row of bookshelves and sending you both a warning glare that compels you to apologetically nod your head and look back down at the books. You never really go back to reading about how to properly brew Felix Felicis though, head only filled with weighing what to do with Jin’s proposal.

As soon as Madam Pince is surely out of sight, your seatmate lets out a sigh of relief, immediately going back to the conversation that was cut short. “(Y/N), you’re smart and capable,” Seokjin proudly claims, voice hushed lest the librarian returns. There’s a reassuring pat to your shoulder, further loosening the tension in them. “You’ll pass the N.E.W.T.s brilliantly. I’m sure of it.” 

(In truth, Seokjin sometimes thinks you could’ve been a Ravenclaw if your determination to be the greatest magizoologist of your generation was any lesser than your affinity for knowledge.) 

Kim Seokjin with his sure confidence and judgement will always spur some form of jealousy in you one way or the other, but he brings you solace through it nonetheless when he tenderly intertwines his hand with yours under the table and nods his head towards the door in a wordless invite to ditch the rigorous studying. 

You purse your lips, any retort dying unspoken at the truth of his words as you mull over what kind of life you’ve been living lately. 

How many weeks have you been sacrificing precious sleep and food for this? 

How many invites to Hogsmeade or playing wizard chess in the common room did you turn down? 

How many times did you stay in this same exact seat in the library till closing hours?

The thought of spending more times in the Hogwarts library than Madam Pince  herself, dreaded you. Perhaps, this may have been getting out of hand after all. Seokjin doesn’t let it get to his head, why should you? (The perfectionist beast in you hates him.)

Just as you squeeze his hand back in silent affirmation, your fellow Slytherins, Michael Flint and his goons, pass by. Try as you might to ignore their glares and gather your things from the desk, they made their way to your table. “Still hanging around with that mudblood, (L/N)?” he spat, chuckles from the three behind him followed suit. 

In an instant, your blood boils at his words, a headache yet again manifesting. It’s a misfortune to the decent Slytherins of your house that there are still remnants of blood purists like Michael. 

You miss Seokjin’s reaction with the way you were glaring at them like a snake baring its fangs, ready to strike. “Whoever I mingle with isn’t exactly any of your business, Flint,” you steadily drawl, the glint of the small silver pin of the house snake on his necktie reminding you of the one you used to have.

Slytherins are tight knit when it comes to being part of the house, taking care of one’s own and siding with one another. The tie pins and rings are symbolic of being looked after by even the alumni of the house. You suppose people like Michael expect you to blindly follow suit with the principle. Jokes on them. 

“You and Min are a bunch of traitors,” Michael’s sneering nearly knocks the air out of your lungs, “a waste of purebloods.”

It hurts, more than it ever has the right to do so. There's a lump that forms in your throat and a waver in your glare as your hands clenched into fists. 

You know well it's not this mongrel that holds your heart hostage in his hands stabbing it cruelly, but rather, it was the words that he wielded being akin to the ones you had been accustomed to at home—the utter disdain and disappointment of your purity-obsessed parents plunging piercing glares and venomous lectures to your core. It doesn't ache as much as it used to, but you suppose the stress and exhaustion bleeding into your bones have made the walls of your heart weary. 

“Shouldn’t you be studying for the exams instead of poking your nose where it doesn’t belong?” 

Wide shoulders soon block your view of the group. Kim Seokjin, kind and patient as he was, is now an angered badger with claws ready to maul beneath that calmer, solemn fury of a facade he puts in front of them. His height, though not as tall as the Ravenclaw head boy, Kim Namjoon, is still enough to be used as a further point of intimidation. 

Still, ignorant fools like Michael are ignorant and foolish, after all. “Keep your mouth shut, Kim,” he snaps, “I’m not talking to you, yeah?”

You secure your bag as you roll your eyes, snaking your fingers through Seokjin’s and squeezing them to silently tell him to end the discussion now. There’s no use talking this out with jerks like Michael Flint without getting exhausted. Madam Pince will come around at any moment now, too. 

“Your mouth wasn't wanted to talk in the first place, either," Seokjin bites back, his final blow before he swiftly slings his own bag over his shoulder and tucks both his and your books in his hands. 

Relinquishing any time for them to wrangle in an argument, you raise your head once again to dare them yourself. “Your choice of words is repulsive and obsolete, Flint,” you hiss, flashing them an empty smile. “Do change with the times, will you, lads?” 

Fortuitously, Madam Pince’s return to the section allows you and Seokjin to leave without much more of a fuss, hand still in hand. The more the distance between you and the library grows, however, the more you realize how tired you really are. The N.E.W.T.s are nastily exhausting.

You all but steal glances at the young man next to you, just as he decides to pull you to a stop in the corridors. Before he could even open his lips, you’re the first to say a word. “I’m sorry about that,” you sigh, letting yourself crash in the embrace he readily gives you. You take in his scent—a mix of his favorite cologne and the pastries he would be offered to by the kitchen elves for helping them—and you hug him just a bit tighter.

Fingers brush themselves through your hair. “Don’t be,” he hushes, tone back to being light-hearted. “It’s not your fault idiots like them still exist and dirty Slytherin’s name.”

He’s being nice and moving on from the issue, even when they don’t deserve his kindness. It’s easy for others to take Seokjin’s friendliness and composure for granted, especially when his house is reputable for being modest. “Still,” you insist, looking up at him, “you don’t deserve to be called such things.”

Kim Seokjin is worth a thousand times more than that filthy word—worth more than his weight in galleons. 

He’s the one who once waited for you outside the library door at night and snuck you into the kitchens to help one of the elves make you a meal because you missed dinner. 

He’s the one who once spent hours with you looking for your cat throughout the castle, constantly assuring you that you two would find your beloved pet. 

He’s the one who once fetched you in the pouring rain after your parents disowned you last summer, convincing his parents to let you stay with them until you got your bearings.   

You would go far as to say he’s your other half—one of the people you undoubtedly plan to include in your greater plans in life. Perhaps, when you’ve travelled the world and then some, you and him would be together, settling down somewhere. You and him would build an establishment for treating both wizards, witches, and creatures. You and him would finally be able to look at each other and say—  

"Are you okay, (Y/N)?"

Knocked out of your stupor, only now have you come to realize the hand cupping your cheek, wiping away at your tears. Seokjin’s eyes stare back at you worriedly as you cast your eyes down. "No," you find yourself admitting this hoarsely, heart always vulnerable and honest with him. 

You want to be the best—for your younger self, your cruel parents, and him. You want to pay him back for his kindness and give him all of your love in return. You want to return from your endeavors and—

There’s a tender kiss that plants itself on your forehead, and in turn, nourishing the warmth and the butterflies within you. The silence beats for only a few seconds further before Seokjin pulls away, a soft smile on his lips as he does so. "Let's go to the kitchen for a short break, hm?" he says, wiping the last of your tears away as you look at his chest. Curses, you’ve stained his sweater vest. 

"Come along," he further urges you, earnestly tugging at your hand with genuine promise. "Your Jinnie will cook for you."

The small beginnings of a smile blooms from your lips. After a long, arduous time of studying, yes, a short break does sound nice.

[dgaftilwedie]

sorry guys im YAPPING again................. literally making a new tag for this i love doing surveys

yeah kinda i mean i struggle with derealization so half the time nothing feels real

like 4.5 maybe???

i actually have no idea

SCOOPS!!!!!!!!

cherry blossom :3

"damn i need to shower"

my rite here rite now merch :33 hehheheeh

bi, n i don't really identify with any gender?? idk nothing feels ME my gender is just unlabeled because 1) i don't know and 2) i don't really care yknow??

dark :3

watchinf a loz randomizer video with one of my brothers

18 has been pretty cool so far

one of my brothers (the loz brother)

you........... (i don't have one)

my family laptop just has like the default

Hot Bio Teacher

laude by gaerea

idk .......... whoever it js is NOT gonna be matt groening, that's fo sho

the person who taste tested the chili cheese fries flavored pringles and decided they tasted fine. they tasted like a tuna melt in the worst way possible. they had so much potential.

man idk 😭

my boobs (sorry) (kinda) (not really)

i would probably look like my dad 😭 and i've had this very specific kinda weird fantasy where if i ever woke up with a dick, i would fuck a mcchicken. it came to me in a dream. and it's so far out there. i don't know why.

i was a cheerleader once does that count

CANNED FUCKING PEAS

grinder roll. cold cut with provolone cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and onions. mayonnaise on the top. throw it in the oven. favorite sandwich ever.

im gonna save it to add it to my tattoo fund :3

LA, HERE I COME

those fucking hard mountain dews bro that's right up my alley

no one can come to the island except for me and whoever i choose bc it's gonna become a sanctuary for the local wildlife :3

i dontrknow what that means :3

Unpleasant Question that i do not know how to answer

Next Question Please

im moving to ny wildlife sanctuary from question 28

MY UNCLE DAVE DUDE i miss him so much. maybe i could get death to bring back my rat too.......... a little two for one deal in exchange a feally good sandeicj or something

guhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh idk

oh fer sure

yeah :(

yeah :3

i am NOT wearing socks

i like a lot of different kinds of music i will listen to pretty much anything as long as it sounds nice

sunsets :3 sunrises are kinda underwhelming most of the time

chocolate?????? maybe?????? i don't have milkshakes often

the jaguars 💪💪 (they're my dad's team)

i am COVERED

i graduated a month ago and as of rn............. i am freeloading (my parents do not care) (i love my parents)

i truly hate how i am constantly overthinking. i feel so unlikable and i tire myself out by being the way i am. i wish i was NORMAL i wish my brain worked like a normal person's brain instead of being so hyperactive and stupid

i would hope so

"are you still lame??"

kinda..........

lizard + bird......... then we'd have dragons

i've had way too many weird conversations i dontrknow what the weirdest one is

yeah :3 it's not something i like to brag about bc i had to learn gow to lie out of necessity

if im around people, i don't think i'd last 5 minutes. if im by myself i'd last forever.

the 2021 pixie cut

yeah :3

i can do a lot of accents im working on my irish one rn

i dislike toast i will only eat it if it's toasted in bacon greese and dipped in egg yolk

no bucks :3 they're an awesome currency that is worth zero dollars to you and all of your disappoint to me!!!!!!!!!!

SIX SPEED HOT PINK JEEP WRANGLER

i do a LOT of shit in the shower my imagination is most active then i talk to myself a lot

yeah :3 i hope they're cool aliens

nawwww not usually. i only read it if i get my hands on the newspaper

now that i think about it........... w is a really nice letter

DINOSAURS i can't believe that they were fucking real i wish we could bring them back......... i've always fantasized about having a pet ankylosaurus

cutie patooties :33 little creatures........ they're so tiny and so adorable i love them so much

survey 10💛

length: long

----------

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

3. The person you would never want to meet?

4. What is your favorite word?

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

7. What shirt are you wearing?

8. What do you label yourself as?

9. Bright room or dark room?

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

12. Who told you they loved you last?

13. Your worst enemy?

14. What is your current desktop picture?

15. Do you like someone?

16. The last song you listened to?

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

29. What is your favorite expletive?

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

34. What was your last dream about?

35. Are you a good… [insert anything you’d like here]?

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

38. What is the color of your socks?

39. What type of music do you like?

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

43. Do you have any scars?

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

46. Are you reliable?

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

48. Do you hold grudges?

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

51. Are you a good liar?

52. How long could you go without talking?

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

56. What do you like on your toast?

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

58. What would be you dream car?

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

64. What do you think about babies?

[infinitewarden]

Osiris isn’t Savathun.

Great! Now that I have your attention:

Man you guys tire me out about Osiris. If you truly believe this is Osiris I don’t mean to sound like That Guy that’s like “you don’t know what you’re talking about” but... You don’t know what you’re talking about.

So.

Let’s talk about how much Osiris cares about the City and humanity and why the Osiris in Epilogue is not actually Osiris.

Alright. Let’s start off with context. I think it’s super important to see what we do know as Osiris’s views. From my heavy analyses of him since 2020 I can confidently say these are what he views as the most important things a person can do:

Keep promises

Speak their truths

Protect the City & Humanity

Know that the Vex are true Evil.

Now, I won’t be doing a breakdown of each one individually but I will be talking a great deal of how important honesty is to Osiris, the City, and his views of the Vex.

Speaking honestly and bluntly.

I don’t know how many of you were into Destiny before Beyond Light, so if you were unaware of this it’s not your fault. However I’ve seen a very strange change in tone when it comes to how people view Osiris. Before Season of Hunt people hated - and I mean hated - Osiris. Why? Because he was blunt. They viewed his bluntness as rudeness.

To see a sudden switch to him being secretive and scheming is... alarming, to say the least. (And to see people think that this is the norm is also alarming but in other ways.)

The Osiris before Hunt was not secretive and scheming. He sought knowledge openly. He sought, specifically, the truth. I must stress just how open he was about his plans. First I’ll give you a few in lore examples:

I admit, I found your questions divisive and disloyal, and I feared you might be capable of breaking our unity when the City's position had grown so tenuous. Why divert attention away from the Traveler, our only hope? And then it got worse, dabbling in thanatonautics, Ahamkara-lore, chasing after Xur and the tricks of the Nine. Launching expeditions into the Reef and beyond at a time when ships were irreplaceable. Your quest split Guardians along ideological lines. This was your greatest crime: Hunters chose to pursue your visions instead of protecting refugees, Titans assembled teams to chase the legendary Vault of Glass instead of striking the Fallen, and Warlocks turned away from the study of the Traveler in favor of  your  ultimate obsession... learning the exact nature of the Darkness. ... Perhaps what drives a Warlock to madness is truth.

Osiris.

"Do not romanticize this burden. We wield a weapon." The Speaker shakes his head. "The Light wields you, Osiris. You are what you make of it. A glorious extension of its majesty, in many directions." Osiris paces at cadence with his words. "Then it would do well to speak clearly. To better direct me." The Speaker cocks his head. "Without will? Then it would be no better than the Darkness." "I am asking only for guidance; it is a delicate game we are playing." Osiris's voice, distressed. Regal again, the Speaker motions to the stone garden. "Will you sit with me?"

13: Margins Part II.

And, while I don’t particularly like using the Fall of Osiris comic as a source, it does have very important lines on his viewpoints that I find relevant yet.

Fall of Osiris #1.

Hell he was open about his plans to fuck with time itself to bring Saint back.

Sagira narrowed her eye at the rogue Lightbearer and lowered herself to Osiris’s shoulder. “Why’s he here?” she asked quietly. “I asked him to consult on the engineering work,” Osiris replied, crossing his arms. “You sicko,” the other man declared, walking a circle around the Warlock, his eyes darting along every surface of the Sundial around them. ... “Just one more question, then. Why all the fuss?” “I owe him.” “I owe a lotta people, Warlock. You’re opening the gates of hell with a Vex key.” “When the Traveler brought me back, I had no friends. No family—” “No one had anything in the Dark Age.” “But Saint was always there. And I saw him grow from neophyte to demigod.”

The Sundial.

"You haven't left the Forest in years," Ikora said to Osiris, the only one to address him directly. "I need help," Osiris replied. "I know," Ikora responded, hands clasped behind her back. She stared intently at her former mentor. Back in her Crucible days, that uncompromising gaze was often the last thing her opponents saw. Aunor glanced sidelong at her superior. Harper coughed and looked down at his datapad. "Two years ago, Guardians entered the Infinite Forest," Osiris continued. "They aided me in defeating the Axis Mind Panoptes, preventing a Vex apocalypse from befalling this system. "In the process," he looked between each of them in turn, "Some Guardians reported a body they found in the Forest depths." Ikora sighed. "Saint-14 never came back from that last mission to Mercury. We finally knew why. I reacted to it the only way I knew how."

Desperate Times.

“I do not understand all of this code. This is Geppetto’s specialty,” Saint-14 says while standing bent over a wide desk covered in data tablets. Holographic images of the Lighthouse shimmer in the Hangar lights. “We could use the Crucible right now. Your trials. This will be very helpful. You mean to stay, yes?” “I will. Long enough to show you how to implement the simulation; but tonight, I must disembark,” Osiris says. “So soon?” Osiris tenses his jaw in forced silence. He twiddles with code. “I’m worried about what Vance found.” Saint places a heavy hand on Osiris’s chest. “Let go of your obsession. Do not leave chasing phantoms again.” “Phantoms… You think the Darkness is satisfied? This is just the first move. I need to know the next before it’s made.” “If there is something you fear, let me help you. We face this together.” Osiris’s mind drifts to the Dark anomalies. Saint doesn’t need another burden. “The safest place for you is the Tower, Saint. Time... tends to renege on its gifts.” “So, your mission is dangerous?” Osiris considers lying. “Potentially.”

Immolant I.

There are many more sources I could list on his bluntness and honesty but there’s honestly too much. What is important to extrapolate from all of it is this:

OSIRIS SPOKE THE TRUTH NO MATTER IF IT GOT HIM IN TROUBLE. IT IS ONE OF THE MAIN REASONS HE GOT EXILED.

Protecting the City & Humanity

Idk where people get the idea that he’s abandoned the City and humanity. And I don’t understand where people think it’s “typical Osiris behavior” to choose to put the City in danger.

I want to make something very clear here:

Osiris was exiled. He did not abandon the City. And though others view him as abandoning it, that wasn’t his intention. He never intentionally abandoned it. Everything he did was in pursuit of a brighter future for humanity. Let’s look at one of his lines from the Sundial activity during Dawn.

“By the time I left the City, many believed my practices to be sacrilege. But my methods have prevented countless futures not unlike the one you walk now. When it is laid out before you, would you not sacrifice anything to see this future shut?”

The Sundial.

He left because he weighed his options and he saw that humanity would have better use of him if he left. He cares A great deal about the City. He cares almost too much about it. He would never give Lakshmi the technology to cause it harm, especially knowing that she’s unstable. And I’ve seen some people think he’s playing 5D chess? In what world would he ever choose to bring harm upon humanity for some sort of... agenda; which I’ve already cleared up earlier, he’s open about his plans.

Let’s look at more known lore about Osiris’s feelings of the City & humanity.

"You've wrapped your mind around an idea of your own making. I have always tolerated this fawning 'movement' of yours, but this is a step too far." Osiris seethed. Brother Vance was awestruck. He stared blankly at Osiris, unsure of what he could say to quell his anger and dissolve his frustration. "What I have discovered…" "…is dangerous enough to destroy every man, woman, and child in existence. You're meddling with forces outside your grasp," Osiris reprimanded. "I warn you here and now, remove yourself from this Lighthouse. Find a simple life. Start a family. Write music. Leave Mercury and this fool's errand behind."

Chapter 8: Idolatry.

Osiris was furious to find out Vance was experimenting in his name by endangering people for his goals. And he was especially mad that he would dive into such dangerous areas so much so that it had the potential to destroy humanity.

"It's truth." Osiris considers this. "Truth seems subjective these days," Osiris says, finally observing his entourage for the first time. Among them, a small group of men and women, stand two wayward Guardians—Warlocks, it appears—and a child. Their forlorn faces resonate with him. Castaways and believers. The weeks since his departure from the Last City have worn on him. He was used to working alone, knowing he could fall back to the City's resources should he need them. Now, adrift in the expanse of purpose, he finds himself longing for a place he could return to. A sanctuary.

Chapter 2: Postexilic.

Here’s a few lines from Season of Dawn:

“The Traveler, mutilated. Mercury, a desolate warzone. This is the bleak future the Cabal wants for us all. We do not know what has become of humanity here. I hope we will not find out.”

.

“There are many terrible futures, but I have not grown numb to seeing them. The future the Cabal wish for is a nightmare for humanity.”

.

“If the Traveler fled the system, there is a chance that the Darkness would ignore our region of the galaxy entirely. It would sacrifice our second awakening, our ability to wield the Light, but potentially continue our Golden Age. There are too many variables at risk, but it's a variant path worth investigating in the Infinite Forest.”

.

“This battered Mercury is a blueprint for our system. Lightless, bowed, and nothing more than fuel for an endless war. It must never come to pass.”

The Sundial.

There are many. Many. More lines I could put here about how much Osiris doesn’t want to see humanity suffering. And especially how he doesn’t want the City to be at risk. But I think you get the picture.

Know that the Vex are true Evil.

So. We all know Osiris as “the Vex guy.” His whole thing is on fighting the Vex. However it seems people think that he’d be okay with using them for grounds of a higher purpose? Or something? I don’t know, everyone I see rebuffing Osiris’s actions with Lakshmi don’t seem to be interested in explaining this one.

So anyways. Let’s talk about how Osiris views the Vex as true evil compared to other species.

“The Fallen are not so different from us. How hard would you fight if the Light were taken from you?” “Those stories ring false to me,” said Saint. “They are not a noble people. I’ve fought them, and so have you.” “I have not fought them all,” the Warlock replied, pulling his hands apart to create an intricate web of hovering cubes and points of light. “They are nothing, no threat—not like the Vex. Not like the Darkness.”

Vanguard Commander.

[u.2:06] Have you spoken to the House of Light, like I asked? [u.1:07] I would rather not speak with Fallen. [u.2:07] They may need our help. Their cause is just. [u.1:08] What happened to “trust no one?” [u.2:08] What happened to your sense of right and wrong, hero?

Maintenance Operations Log 30037.

The unenlightened wonder at my so-called "fixation" upon the Vex. They believe our gravest existential threat is the Hive, for those beings have made a pact with the Darkness itself via the medium of the Worm Gods (according to Toland, at least, and I see no reason to doubt him in this). But Darkness is not merely absence of Light. Darkness is an entity unto itself. Put simply, Darkness is not Nothing. But the Vex? The Vex seek neither Light nor Darkness. They seek Convergence, the reduction of all life to its simplest, most meaningless form. An entelechy of zeros and ones. "Evil" is a word for sentimentalists and fools. But, in the ontology of the sentimental, the Vex are more deserving of the term than the Hive. Given a choice between Darkness and Convergence, I would choose Darkness. It is a logical choice. Yet for this they banish me.

Kairos Function (Hunter).

This one is important because Osiris doesn’t subscribe to the idea of “good” and “evil”, and that he would go so far to say that the Vex are Evil shows just how much of a threat he views them as.

It’s just. Mind boggling to me that people think that Osiris would be okay with a Vex invasion. That Osiris would encourage Lakshmi to open up a rift to “send the Fallen away” (Despite being one of the earliest sympathizers!) Osiris isn’t ineffable, he’s just a man trying to do his best to help humanity. His actions aren’t difficult to understand, they have been written to be very clear and with understanding his motives.

Saying that it’s natural for him to be secretive and have contradicting opinions and actions is just. Wrong. It’s not him. It’s not how he’s supposed to be understood. Even in Curse of Osiris I don’t think his actions didn’t make any sense.

This is going to sound very mean but I want to be 100% clear: If you think that Osiris would actively choose to put the City in danger of the Vex, if you think that he would actively choose to stand calmly and watch as his lover was about to die to the very things he spent millions of lives to save... You don’t understand Osiris. Go back and reread his lore.

I leave you with this:

The Vanguard is dubious of our intent and ability, fearing corruption and displacement. They do not trust me. You were held in similar contempt for speaking your truth and empowering free thought. You know what it feels like to be chastised and labeled a traitor. We are mere steps away from a disintegration of our institutions, and they cannot see destruction staring them in the face. ... For so long, we have clung to the Light, denying the strength offered by the Dark. By using Stasis, we will end this war. We see this contest for what it truly is: a game, played by our adversaries. And we have been the pawns. We are pawns no more. This is not a battle I want to wage without you, although we may not have a choice in the matter. Wherever you may be, please come back to us.

To Osiris.

[supertunanana]

I’ve debated writing this for a while, because who wants to read my inane thoughts on the matter? What are my opinions really worth in the grand scheme of things? I’m not so self important to think this will be of any value. But, I’m an extroverted thinker, so this might help my brain finally shut up, and that’s worth something to me. 

The hypocrisy surrounding Jikook. 

Are they a couple? Maybe. I legitimately don’t know. I don’t default into thinking they’re straight. I don’t default into thinking they’re gay. Every member is a blob, sexually, until they define themselves one way or another. Because honestly, I don’t care. That’s between them and their potential paramours. There’s nothing wrong with either option, heck there’s nothing wrong with both or none. Live a life, man... good luck! 

And I have no problems with shipping, to the extent it is done in a sane way and fans do not impose their ships onto the actual people. What I mean is, if you think Tae and JK look good together and you want to read stories or draw art of them as a couple and you want to explore their dynamic, you do you. However, it crosses a line when fans get mad when real people or real situations do not adhere to their fantasy. When they contradict footage and quotes and the feelings of those involved because it doesn’t fit into their little shipping box, that’s when it’s a problem. Be realistic. Have distinct lines between fantasy and reality, between what you might like and what is actually happening. 

It is this reason, that I think shipping generally innocuous and indicative of the shipper more than the celebrity, that I also don’t think the celebrities in question need to be defended against shipping. Because  if it is distinctly fantasy, then unless they express an opinion on the matter, most celebrities don’t really seem to know about it or care. It’s harmless. That defense, those hackles raised, again say more about the fans than the celebrities. When Xiao Zhan’s (XZ) fans got pissed off that some fanfic writer was portraying him as trans, XZ never weighed in on it. It wasn’t until those fans, in DEFENSE of their idol reported the writer and those of their ilk to the censors in China and got AO3 blocked on Chinese internet, that’s when XZ stepped in. And not to thank his fans for defending him, but to apologize to all the innocent Chinese fanfic writers who lost their work and their sanctuary because a handful of his fans had gotten the site banned. Again, the problem here was fans imposing their own beliefs on the celebrity, in this case thinking he would be upset by this and thus needed to be defended. They ended up causing more harm than good.

So the crux of this, what’s been kicking about in my brain, was the need for the fandom to “defend” JK from “shippers” the day after “hickey gate” and why these things only ever seem to focus on Jikook moments.

First off, “hickey gate” stemmed from footage that was a full, editorial choice to be shared on the part of Hybe and BTS. It was behind the scenes, closed set, pandemic lockdown footage edited together and released as official content, not some concert fancam or paparazzo on the street catching a private moment. They chose to leave in both Jimin and Jungkook on TWO occasions addressing the bruise/bite/hickey on JK’s neck, with the source being attributed to Jimin both times. Thus, people discussing this after the fact is a natural biproduct of it being shared. Is it even “shipping” when we are given the footage and the explanation? Is it not just a strange fact? This isn’t someone superimposing a fantasy onto them. This is the boys flat out saying Jimin bit JK and left a mark on his neck. I get debate over whether it was a bite or a hickey might lend itself more to “shipping”, with the latter being more shippy, but seriously, just looking at it would make anyone to question whether the BRUISE was more a hickey than a bite mark. What it says about the nature of their relationship is a whole other animal, but the fact is, it happened. And people are going to have THOUGHTS and FEELINGS about this. And that’s obviously something Hybe/BTS were ok with to share it in the first place (seriously, we would have never known, we DIDN’T even have a whiff of this until they put the whole thing on the DVD, so they were obviously OK with this leading to speculation, because how can a member saying they BIT another on the neck not?). All the content we are given of the boys snuggling, biting, ear sucking, tenderly addressing each other, etc.. is mostly a choice. And that choice will lead to questions and debates, and they’re obviously ok with it. It’s not wrong for people to be like, “huh” when they do questionable things and choose to give us said content about the questionable things. 

But, there always seems to be this backlash when it’s Jikook. We have to “defend” JK, a fully grown man, who brought up the bite himself on camera from people talking about the bite as he himself said it was given to him. No backlash to people saying Jimin claimed doing it to cover up JK’s secret girlfriend (uhhh, when homosexuality is a no-go in SK, that seems a weird choice, but sure, ok.... like just cut it from the footage and slap some make up on like they do during the concert, since none of us noticed it then, and move on if you want to cover it up). But that’s allowed supposition despite having NO EVIDENCE to support it. And what we are TOLD actually happened is not ok and “shipping”?!? 

Worse, when days later some innocuous “TAE AND JK WERE STANDING NEXT TO EACH OTHER OMG! THEY’RE IN LOVE” trends, where is the “save JK from shipping” rhetoric? That is CLEARLY shipping. I’m not saying Jikook shippers don’t do this, too, they do. And I laugh and shake my head at every little thing being dissected and offered as “proof”, but there always seems to be this backlash when it’s Jikook. ESPECIALLY when it’s undeniably... different. Neck biting. Ear sucking. “with JK at 4 a.m.” when they found out Dynamite got number one. Golden Closet Tokyo. These things are facts. Again, they’re... weird facts that do lead me to raise an eyebrow a lot, but they are facts and they were shared by the members as facts. I don’t think it’s necessarily shipping to think weird facts are weird and may lead to conclusions that don’t adhere to the THEY ARE ALL INHERENTLY STRAIGHT manifesto so many fans seem to have (and I think “straight until proven otherwise” is a shitty perspective anyone could have in any walk of life and again speaks to inherent or unconscious heteronormative perceptions in society - hurray -_-). 

But even the dumb shippy stuff that ALL other combos have, is always an ISSUE when done by Jikook. Their bond or interactions are downplayed by major accounts. They’re an outlier. Some shippers even try to make it out like they hate each other (whaaa? HOW?!?!).  Any odd interaction that really is just odd is deemed “shipping” and cast off into the no-no void, where it’s WRONG if you side-eye it. And I know WHY. I know it’s because they ARE different and they do do stuff people just don’t want to look too closely at because it makes them uncomfortable, so it’s easier to just deem it all “other” and “crazy supposition” and get rid of it. But it’s frustrating when it’s legit and it’s stuff they’re choosing to show and give us. It’s frustrating to be told you’re not allowed to go “huh, weird” because now you’re just a crazy shipper. 

And again, I’m NOT saying Jimin and JK are in a relationship, because again, IDK, but I’m also not saying they're NOT either. I’m going to keep side eyeing the fuck out of some of the stuff they do and just enjoy that they are 100% each other’s person in the interim. And if that makes me a crazy shipper, then I guess that’s what I am. 

[acti-veg]

Hey I'm a bit conflicted. I've been vegan for more than 5 years and I'm contemplating to eat fish again (but not other meat, no milk products, honey, etc.) but I feel bad for it because my reasons for being vegan in the first place haven't changed. The sentience debate around "can fish feel pain" is known to me. Idk I just kinda want someone to talk me out of it. I try to justify it with the most ridiculous stuff like not needing to supplement anymore and I'm starting to believe my therapist that maybe veganism is the reason for feeling so low on energy and depressed because it started about the same time I changed the way I eat (even though in heart I believe that's bullshit)... I'm sorry for this huge text. What do you think? Did you ever have personal doubts about it before?

There is absolutely no reason why you would need to eat fish based on what you’ve told me. It isn’t necessary for you so you would be giving up on your veganism for the sake of enjoying fish, and while your intention is to only eat fish, in my experience it seldom stops there. Once you start seeing animals as food again, and their lives as being worth less than your taste preferences or convenience, that is a fundamental shift in your wider philosophy and personal ethics.

Just as an example, why fish but not crab? Both are sentient, both are social animals with individual identities, needs, both would prefer comfort to pain, safety to danger, being free to being trapped and killed. If crab is fine to eat, what about chickens? What is the fundamental moral difference between eating fish/crabs and eating chickens? What quality is inherent in chickens that makes it immoral to eat them, but not present in fish? How about pigs? Cows?

There is just no ethically consistent position that allows us to consume some animals but not others, at least in cases where both are sentient. As soon as we begin to pick and choose which sentient animals morally matter and which ones don’t, we buy into the fundamental oppressive paradigm that some lives are worth less than others. Are you convinced by that assertion already?

Think of this as not ‘I’m going to eat fish,’ but I’m going to stop being vegan, stop being anti-speciesist, and since fish are up there with cows as one of the least sustainable animals you can eat, you’re also giving up on having a consistent environmental position, too. It’s not an exception to your rule, it’s giving up the rule entirely, and for what? There is nothing (and I do mean nothing) present in fish that that you can’t get anywhere else. The only possible factor is omega, which you can get from flaxseed, algae oil etc in equal amounts.

You’re not even just choosing to let fish be killed either, you’re also choosing to let whales, other porpoises, sharks, dolphins etc. die as bycatch, since there is no fishing standard or certification in existence they you could exclusively buy from which would guarantee no losses from bycatch. You’d have to buy from an individual fisherman you know personally and have observed only catches by line and only specific species, which just isn’t commercially viable anymore. No other animal product requires the sheer volume of deaths that eating fish does.

I think what this comes down to is a loss of inspiration. You need to re-engage with veganism and animal rights, remember the things that convinced you in the first place, read books, visit a sanctuary, watch films - I have a whole bunch of them here. I’d particularly recommend watching Seaspiracy on Netflix, since this focuses on the fishing industry specifically. You need to get passionate about animal rights again, because that is what you’ve lost by the sounds of it.

I know that some of this will sound harsh, and please understand that I do get it. I know that being vegan has its downsides, and you’re surrounded by people repeating the same old lies we all hear, that whatever problems we have are because or our veganism. We hear it not just from our family and friends, but our teachers, our doctors, all without a scrap of evidence.

It can be hard to stay inspired in the face of a society that demonises, dismisses and discourages us. But we have to, because this isn’t about us at all, it’s about the trillions of animals suffering and dying for human greed. So many of those are fish and other sea animals killed as bycatch. So many in fact that we don’t even bother to measure how many of them are killed - their lives are measured in tonnes. Do you really want to be part of that?

Do not let other people convince you to compromise on your ethics and join them in exploiting and killing animals. You have already made the connection, going back now would benefit no one except those who love to see a vegan fail. My inbox is always open, you should feel free to message me anytime, I never publish anything I am sent that isn’t anonymous. Take care of yourself anon, and remember that you’re not alone in this, you’re part of a connecter, thriving social justice movement, and we’re all rooting for you.

[constellationmelody]

Beauty and the Guard AU

An AU on Beauty and the beast but there’s no beast unless you want to count belos as one but he’s not the focus character Hunter just refuses to take off his mask the whole time.  

Takes place when luz is trying to save Eda from petrification, Luz strikes a deal with Belos, Giving the portal but manages to destroy it. She’s instead taken captive and warned by Belos that if she escapes, He’ll send an army to capture not just Eda but everyone she ever met and befriended. 

- Has to stay in the Castle as to answer Belos’ questions about the human realm and any other information gathering.

- Hunter is assigned as her chaperone but not all the time. Not when he’s on missions. Steve fills in. 

- Luz agrees with Hunter to not ask about his mask. She says that she doesn’t have a desire to get to get to know him and Considering how the majority of citizens are under the monster category, she understands that he doesn’t want anyone to look. Hunter is not sure if he’s relieve that she will keep her promise not to look under his mask or feel insulted that she basically called him ugly. 

(Long post)

- When not 'helping’ Belos information gathering, She puts to work as a cleaning lady, Luz is furious about it. She can’t believe she has to clean more there than she does at home in a dusty castle. The other cleaning witches can do their job well with magic, meanwhile it’s all manual labor. Not to mention she shares quarters with them and they snore.

- Tries to convince Hunter to let her go out even if its around the castle grounds, of course, He says no and shuts down her attempts.

- While doing her cleaning duties, Luz wanders around the castle to look around any valuable information on Belos for any way to help eda/or whatever without the Golden Guard following her. She finds the forbidden library and is amazed by the goldmine of BI’s forbidden knowledge! She only gets to look through some books before she gets caught by Hunter which he angrily yells at her about being in a place where she’s not supposed to be in. Drags her out and locks the library.

- She tries to run away but often gets stopped by Hunter, the threat of going to the dungeon doesn’t scare her (”I escaped there like twice”). He relents and allows her to go on these ‘adventures’ when he’s not in a mission, He finds it to be fun but would not admit it.

- Luz manages to get the freedom to go back to school but is secretly spied on by Hunter, though he sometimes get caught by the monsters or students roaming around. Hunter picks her up after school. (weak sauce, idk what to put here to make it more interesting)

- When he’s not chaperoning her in the outside world, Hunter gets envious how much fun Steve is having with Luz when they go on an adventure. Detailing their bounty adventures, using the snails to shop and buy things. He can’t really do much about it but when he does go, Steve gets sad; Luz promises him that she’ll get him souvenirs.

- Somehow finds out that Hunter is a magicless witch and Luz shows him that she can do magic through glyphs. Hunter is amazed and they start geeking out about it until he stops himself since it’s a forbidden knowledge.

-  Luz had succeed running away from the castle but its to the beach to stare at the boiling waters. She tells Hunter that the castle life was suffocating her and needed to go out. Hunter stayed with her until they were ready to go back. 

- Hunter secretly takes her to the forbidden library to cheer her up so she can learn more and the boiling isles history. Hunter is happy to have someone with the same interests as him to talk to about wild magic. Gets more comfortable around her and talk in secret more about it. During their time together get bond over varies subjects, the library becoming their sanctuary when its not in use, which is most of the time. They share about each other’s realms constellations, history, what kind of magic is around, creatures and about the titan. Luz scolds him for this, referring back when he got angry at her for being curious when he basically did the same thing in secret.

- After some time getting comfortable and know each other through mutual interest and deep talks. Hunter gets bothered that since she doesn’t know his name, She has no choice but to call him by his title. When they are coming back from doing errands, He tells her his name and she’s allowed to call him by it when they are together/in private. His heart fluttered when he hears her say his name.

- Luz starts to grow feelings for him despite not knowing what he looks like. She had opportunities to see what he looks at the times when he’s asleep during their time in the library or when his mask gets knocked off during a temp job but kept her promise to not look at his face which leads to uncomfortable situation where she accidentally gropes him when she was looking for him to give him his mask back, luckily never below the belt. What she finds is his built felt normal. No hidden spikes, slime or what-have-you to suggests that he’s in the monster/demon category. Hunter obviously flustered. 

- (Following the plot of Hunting palisman w/ some changes to the plot cause obviously Eda)  At school Luz can’t find the palisman that suits her and is upset about it. Hunter, although he still hesitant about his feelings towards wild magic, tries to comfort her. (convo from the Hunting palisman) Luz  talks about What happened at the school, and questions Hunter about how he manages to know what he wanted for his future and How he came to the emperor’s coven, to help her get some guidance from him. He tells her about himself and lack of future and Although she isn’t sure about hers, at least she gets to choose. Luz feels sad for him and hugs him. Hunter melts in her embrace. 

- Just as he’s about to fall asleep in her arms, Rascal pops out of his hiding place and gives Hunter a heart attack. Rascal chooses Hunter to be his palisman. Obviously Luz feels a bit disappointed that hunter got his palisman when he doesn’t want it, the look of uncertainty he has with the palisman makes her determine to get him used to it. She can always be a teacher since she has experience with Owlbert.

- With his new staff that he’s still unsure of, Hunter decides to take Luz out somewhere out of the ordinary routine after school, somewhere special (think like events like the wailing stars but something else) but that turned romantic. At some point he slightly lifts his mask to kiss Luz’s hand. She’s obviously swooned. May have peeked and sees that he has loose strand of medium blond hair sticking out and that his Lips felt like normal. Starts to think he looks like more like human(or witch?) like some of her classmates.

- They become even more friendlier as it becomes a usual thing for them to be seen together in the castle when Luz is or isn’t working, even the coven members are noticing this, especially Kikimora. Coven leaders are just shocked that someone liked him enough to be his a friend. 

- Kikimora start planting seeds of doubts in Luz’s mind about whether Hunter really is being her friend or just fulling his duties as he was told by Belos. What if their talks where his manipulative ways to get her to tell him about her and other information gathering. Was he really talking to her as she clean because he’s really saw her as a friend or just keeping guard to make sure she doesn’t run away. Kiki does this to mess whatever good thing Hunter has since she can’t kill him.  Luz tries her best to ignore her, rationalizing that that’s quite an investment for Hunter to go through to manipulate her.

- Somewhere a long the line, Luz finds out the truth about day of unity and the truth of Kikimora’s words of Hunter’s actions that she assumed was just lies that Kiki told her. She’s hurt to think the guy she grown to love had any knowledge about it and betrayed her. “I though you were a good guy [mentions all the stuff they do together and such] I guess You’re not my friend, you’re just the golden guard.” It kills him when she said that.

- alternatively he finds out that she has the key to the partially fixed portal door. Is conflicted on whether to break their bond for belos or not especially after learning that she’s homesick and wants to see her mom again. Fought with Kikimora over it with lead to Luz finding out their fight and gets heartbroken that Hunter has it, assumes the worst that kikimora was right.  Again, “I though you were a good guy I guess I was wrong. You’re not my friend, you’re just the golden guard.” His feels his heart breaks. 

- Luz gets rescued by Eda, Lilith, king, hooty, her friends. Hunter doesn’t try to stop her but apologizes to her for everything and for what it’s worth, he’s happy to got to know her and that he loved her, whether she feels the same or not. Luz obviously shocked but couldn’t give a response because the gang were fleeing.

- Back in the owl house, Luz is a mess because of the mixed feelings she has for hunter. In one hand, she knew him as this cold person who was very dedicated to his job while the other as an intelligent, funny, (other more things) and is confused on which hunter is the one she grown to love. ( Feels devastated about it because she thinks that he faked his feelings for her to get knowledge on the key or whatever although hunter didn’t really know she had it.)

- Lilith is dumfounded that Luz has feelings for him because she known him to be a brat. Luz argues that He is but much more than that. As she explains why, she gets hits with the epiphany that she does indeed had fallen in love with him. Eda laughs, “Not sure If I approve catching feelings for your nanny, I thought you were being tortured or something but I see now what you have been really doing.” wagging her eyebrows. Luz: “They have me clean the castle from top to bottom! By hand!” “I don’t approve then.” Luz shares her knowledge of wild magic with the group that she learn from the castle’s library.

- Weeks later, Luz tries to sleep but hears small knocking on the window, She opens it and sees Rascal with the key with him and a note from Hunter apologizing again for what happened. Belos doesn’t know about the key. She sends a note back, telling him to meet her. 

- idk how they makeup. (Working on it) Luz walks up to Hunter and asks if she could take off his mask which he agrees to. Luz takes his mask off and smiles, “well look at that, Magenta eyes. You aren’t ugly as I thought to you were!” hunter frowns, “But you’re handsome as I imagined,” leans up and kisses him first. Hunter tosses the mask away for good and hugs her close to kiss her better. Luz pulls back,  “and... I love you too.” Hunter isn’t sure what his new future holds but knows for sure that Luz is a part of it. 

-------------

( Had an idea in an alternative story plot around the part where they went out to a ‘date’. They confessed their love and started to kiss lol imagine them having to use a blindfold to keep her eyes closed. But it was a bit too sensual? Or Sensuous? It just didn’t fit in the flow of the storyline. Why did this became a dabble? )

Hunter, for the first time, gets self conscious about his looks. He tries not look into mirrors, though hard when his mask reflects the face he tries hard to avoid looking at when putting it on, He doesn’t really thought much about his looks, except for the scar that’s plastered over his cheek. The ugly scar that he rather forget he has.

As Hunter looks down at Luz’s face, blindfolded to prevent her from accidently opening her eyes during their ‘make out session’, He’s starting to believe that Luz lied about being magicless. He can’t help but feel enchanted over how beautiful she looked by the way the moonlight cast a heavenly glow over her cute features. He can only imagine how her eyes would look like if she didn’t have the blindfold on. “I wish I can stare into your eyes,”

“Why can’t we?”

“You know why”

“Right, I’m not allowed to look under the mask.” she pouted.

“And... well,” Luz attentively waits for him to continue, “I may not look... pretty as you think I imagine. If that makes any sense.” He sheepishly confessed

As Luz wraps her arms around his shoulders, Hunter feels her hands feeling up up his neck, tenderly cradling his face. Hunter fails to resist the blush spreading across his cheeks and the warm pleasant feeling in his chest

“I have other senses to “see” you,” She says sliding her fingers along his jawline, “Strong jaw, ... No scales, or slime... just soft skin” 

She found one patch on the left of his face in particular that caught her interest but before she could take her time to feel it, Hunter quickly shook her hand away from it. Sensing its something he feels uncomfortable with, she decides to leave it alone. 

She continues, “I can hear your voice; sound hot,” He suddenly felt shy at the comment. He was always self-conscious as he has been told that it was annoying. He felt relieved that it wasn’t the case for her.  “Heh, Thanks”

“I can smell you, " She nuzzles against his neck and scrunches up her nose, “... you need a shower.” Hunter frowns, that was certainly killed the mood a little. She pulls back, “But I like that you smell like pine forest sometimes,” weak save.

 “And,” she hums as grazes her thumb over his lips, licking her own. Hunter subconsciously sucks in his breathe, feeling himself getting hotter by the second.

“I can taste you.” finishing off her sentence by pressing her lips against his; briefly misses his lips by kissing the corner of his mouth before correcting herself. 

Hunter smirks in amusement. 

Alright, He admits that was pretty smooth of her to end it the way she did, even though she fumbled at the end. 

He feels a bit confident on that fateful day where he feels brave enough to show her his face, He just hope it lives up to her expectations despite her reassurance to the contrary. 

Luz, on the other hand, is glad that he’s feels like a normal person underneath the mask, she can’t help but feel a bit disappointed that hunter possess no fangs. 

[brightwoods]

Hey! So I wanted to know your thoughts about something, this is not an Ask related to the 10things au....

In TLH, when do you think Alastair started developing feelings for Thomas? Cause it’s not explicit in the books, right?

I like to think that Alastair had a soft spot for Thomas during school (even tho we know he resented the Merry Thieves for having everything), cause Thomas was so small and Alastair knew what is was like to be a target, plus Thomas was always kind to Alastair in the Academy. And that then, in Paris, he was obviously attracted to Tom and spent some time with him and got to know him better, so maybe those romantic feelings started there?

Idk sometimes I get frustrated because I feel like what we know about Alastair’s canon feelings for Thomas are so vague...

Hey! Sorry this took me so long to answer, but I wanted to respond when I had the brain power to explain my thinking. This is going to get long so I'll throw in a read more.

Okay, so I think Alastair started developing feelings for Thomas in Paris but he didn't figure it out until London.

It would be nice if he had a soft spot for him during school, but I think that Alastair might have been very uncomfortable with Thomas's constant attention since the very last thing he wanted at the Academy was any kind of focus on him (and that's still something that makes him uncomfortable even in the point we're at in the series). But I'm also not the most informed person to talk about Academy days because I'm going to be honest I still haven't read Tales From the Shadowhunter Academy. It's not that I don't want to I just kind of fell into a big reading slump around that time and ended up barely making it through Lady Midnight at that point and I didn't have the brain power to start it then and now I just have an infinite list of books to read so A Lot of things that I really want to read get indefinitely pushed back.

But anyway back to how I'm interpreting things since CC thought it would be fun to hide any in depth thoughts of theirs and go wow surprise twist they're aware they're into each other when we all already knew and would like to have read some thoughts on the matter.

In the Sanctuary scene, Alastair talked about how Thomas was his favourite part of Paris and how he thought he was beautiful then but he was still too wrapped up in Charles and all that. So I think at that point, Alastair thought he was physically attracted to Thomas but didn't think it was anything more than wow that growth spurt made him super hot combined with wow someone I can go places with and talk to about things. But I think really he was developing feelings already with all the time they spent together for days and with all of the stuff about it being as if there was no one else in the world for that time stuff. I think he was still too committed to Charles and in love with him and sure that was the only possible relationship for him that he didn't let himself interpret that at all though. He was just like well I'm in love with Charles and he's not Charles so obviously I don't have feelings for him, he's just good looking and nice to spend time with away from his friends.

And then I think that those feelings kind of fell off when Thomas was gone and just a nice memory instead of a person there to be enamoured with. And everything became just Charles! Charles! Charles! all over again and Alastair was sure that yup those definitely weren't feelings.

And then with London, I don't think Alastair showed up initially feeling romantic things toward Thomas. I think he showed up curious about him, but not with romantic feelings. And then he found out about the tattoo and saw it and I still think it was wow attractive but not an aware of feelings things yet. I think that he was aware of Thomas's interest in him being a crush of some sort for sure at that point when Thomas showed him the tattoo in front of people he wasn't going to show it. Like I think he already had an idea about that in the Academy but that cemented okay Thomas still has a thing for me.

I think that as things in what was supposed to be his dream relationship with Charles went more and more downhill and he realized that it was less and less of what he thought it was, Alastair became more open to the idea of having feelings for someone else.

More specifically, it's just my opinion, but I would say that the moment that Alastair realized oh I have feelings for Thomas too and oh I actually don't want to spend my life like this with Charles was when Thomas showed up wanting to make the antidote that would save Christopher and Ariadne and whoever else and Charles tried to stop him and Alastair had to step in and offer to babysit Thomas. I think that was more than just a choosing sides in that fight thing, I think that was a choosing sides in general like oh here's brave knight boy here fighting to get a chance to save people and here's scared closeted man who is willing to let his ex fiance die to cover up how he called off the engagement.

I think that's why Alastair ended things with Charles soon after that and why he was approaching Thomas wanting to talk to him at the engagement party. I don't think he was going to go start something with Thomas that moment or anything but I think he was acknowledging his interest in him to himself and he was going to let himself explore where spending time with him more would go and then that blew up in his face and it went from Thomas making him realize he could have someone other than Charles and a better situation to oh wait nope, that's impossible for him and he won't go back to Charles but he needs to be more realistic still.

[arianajbb]

FIC RECS - 2

💕 stay by @you-are-my-sanctuary

A road trip to Arizona goes wrong when you catch the attention of a familiar looking dark haired man with steely blue eyes.

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💕 Tell Him, Not Me by @zsiopao

here y/n l/n lands a role in a new television series that will put her relationship to the test.

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💕Stalker by @you-are-my-sanctuary

In which Bucky has a crush on the new PR manager and is being an adorable stalker.

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💕 What Could’ve Been by @you-are-my-sanctuary

Steve stays in the past when returning the stones, leaving you behind and erasing everything you two were to each other. Decades pass and he wonders if he made the right decision. Especially since the memories of you still lingers in his mind years after.

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💕  Let Your Spirit Fly by @starlightcrystalline

At the end of a long week, all you want is to get home. Fate has other ideas.

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💕 painted with bruises by @harryspet

In which Bucky kidnaps you in order to get close to his enemy, Steve, but realizes that Steve isn’t the hero he used to be.

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💕 Wolf, Partner, Gloves... by @revengingbarnes

HYDRA’s words make Bucky go into Winter Soldier mode. Then he meets you, and you make for him words that will bring him back to normal.

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💕 Sleeping With A Friend by @wkemeup

You wake up in Bucky’s bed after a night you’re certain will only break your heart.

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💕 An Unpredictable Reunion by @head-always-up-in-a-dreamworld

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💕 American Boy by @quarantined-with-bucky

Request: So basically buckyxreader where she is a super successful businesswomen and awfully confident but when she’s with bucky she feels insecure as many women want him and she’s insecure of nat. Based on “American Boy” by little mix where bucky is her american boy and the other girl in the song is nat. So like angst with a happy ending (maybe smut if you’re comfortable idk idk).

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💕 Uptown Girl by @brooklyns-boys

You’re a spoiled, shallow party girl who enjoys pushing any button you can find. When your parents put their foot down, giving you the choice between marrying a suitor of their choosing, or being cut off from your money, you’ll have to decide between luxury and the only person who’s ever given a damn about you.

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💕 pictures of girls by @subtlebucky

you’re prepared for a fun-filled weekend with a friend you haven’t seen in a while. instead, you get a weekend with the guy who sort of rejected you and a camera. what could go wrong?

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💕 don’t forget to sing by @sunmoonandbucky

You meet someone new in the most unlikely of ways during the quarantine in New York City.  An alley is six feet apart, right?

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💕 bloody by @buckycuddlebuddy

he looked feral; his eyes black, face contorted in something devilish, lips blood red and shiny and the smirk on his face was promising more than he already had given.

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💕 Home by @softlybarnes

Bucky comes home from his second tour overseas, after a long time away from the reader.

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💕 Kiss Me Better by @blissfullylostinarabbithole

Bucky has your heart, but he seems to despise you. Loki comes up with a plan to make him realize just what he’s missing.

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💕 x by @blissfullylostinarabbithole

Bucky receiving his first piece of fan-mail.

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💕 My Roommate’s Boyfriend by @angstysebfan

Your roommate’s boyfriend and you do not get along. You don’t even know why anymore. When your roommate has to move unexpectedly across the country, you both begrudgingly drive her car to her new home. Adventure, angst, and secrets come alive.

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💕 life with tiny and beefy by @wiensrsoldier

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💕 Safe Place To Land by @sunlightdances

You and Bucky are both standing up for Steve and Peggy’s wedding. Checking in at the hotel for the weekend, you’re horrified to realize there’s been a problem. A big problem.

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💕 A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

Female!Reader is an Omega. Alphas and Omegas are rare, and Reader’s been able to avoid alphas through sheer force of will and luck in equal parts.

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💕 we’re up all night to get lucky by  @nsfwsebbie

Your soldier comes home after his prevailing victory.

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💕 Jealousy Looks Good On You by @tinymalscoffee

You go to your favorite coffee shop after your date from the morning before never shows up.

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💕 x by @sinner-as-saint

uni!seb having a thing for boobies.

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💕 Everything by @mariessecretfantasies

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💕 Stardust And Starfish by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

“Hey we kissed once in kindergarten but I haven’t seen you since and I couldn’t remember why you were so familiar.”

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💕 The Flaw Of Belief by @winterdaybreak

Y/N and Bucky fight over who can be more spiteful, who hates who more. Neither really mean it, but Bucky might just win.

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💕 dear... whoever by @whistlingwillows

a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries.

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💕 starring role by @baezen

in which Hollywood’s former hottest movie star faces his biggest challenge yet – proving that he’s still worth the starring role

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💕 Mr. and Mrs. Barnes by @cherrypickertheory

You and your husband, Bucky, live a normal life in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. Or you did, that is, until you both realize that the other is a spy.

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💕 kitten by @buckycuddlebuddy

“you know,” bucky started, voice low and raspy. “i think i have spoiled you too much lately.”

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💕 Summer Days by @sleepypanda27

You meet a handsome stranger at the beach.

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💕 Power Over Me by @sinner-as-saint

CEO James Buchanan Barnes is a dominant. And he’s spent the last 5 years searching for his perfect submissive. Then one night, he finds you. He thinks everything will fall perfectly into place now; but he thought wrong. Turns out your unfortunate past which still haunts you to this day, and some of his enemies are, well, connected. Things go wrong. And your bond with your dom is tested in many ways…

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💕 Bucky & the Beast by @thejamesoldier

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💕 House Pride by @delusionalwriterr

After encountering Bucky during a Quidditch game, both of you grow attached to each other. But is the attraction enough to overcome the disapproval of your brother, Tony, and the messy past between your families?

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💕 Meet Me In The Hallway by @yikeswtfmate

Y/N and Bucky have hated each other since they were children and now they’re forced to live together, whether they like it or not.

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💕 Postcards by @sebbytrash

Takes place after Civil War. Bucky is your best friend but of course you’re in love with him. He goes off to travel the world and rediscover himself, sending you Postcards along the way, whilst you struggle with your feelings.

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💕 x by @moteldwelling

(this isn’t a fic but it’s amazing omg)

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💕 Helpless by @prongsies

Sirius loved you. Loved you enough to let you go. Loved you enough to selflessly step back, allowing you to love someone he knows could give you the love you deserved - even if it hurts.

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💕 What Is, And What Should Never Be by @whoisbxcky

You wake up one morning to find yourself in an alternate reality, in which the Avengers never came to be, and your friends are living perfect civilian lives. However, things are not all they appear to be, and you find yourself facing the worst fear you never knew you had.

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💕 Impaled by @revengingbarnes

You’ve been pining after Bucky for months. A compromising situation during a mission brings you a lot closer to him than you expected.

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💕 Helpless For You by @sgtjbuccky

A blind date has lead you and Bucky to the fourth date. Each one proving that you’ve got it bad more than prior and it doesn’t quite matter what will happen - you will keep on falling for that handsome devil and you don’t even mind.

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💕 Flowers by @bucky-the-thigh-slayer

Love can take a while, but the right love is always worth time, and some old fashioned gestures.

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💕 The (not naked) pin-up calendar by @bitsandbobsandstuff

When you ask for a favor, Bucky (very) grudgingly agrees. What can you do to thank him? Return the favor, of course.

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💕 Rogue Angel by @harryspet

Bucky tasks himself with deprogramming you, a former hydra soldier. Will he be able to show he cares for you as his Daddy or will your training stop you from seeing the truth.

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💕 Saving The Day by @jbbmoved

On your way back home, you are being followed by a couple of creeps. When your eyes fall on the most impressive and handsome Avengers, you don’t think twice and find yourself a fake boyfriend and savior.

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💕 Hidden Lagoons and Seashells by @after-avenging-hours

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💕 my heart, my angel by @paintedface

valentine’s day candy grams basically show how popular you are in the school, so you expect to get none, however, one, extremely sweet one, turns up on your desk. except you have no clue who it’s from.

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💕 Like Silver Glass by @thejamesoldier

Out of all the things you have seen so far in your life – a colorful plethora of alien species, artificial intelligence, an imaginative array of mutants and their abilities, cyborgs, superhumans, assassins, geniuses, etc. – merpeople fell actually pretty low on your ‘Shocking Things That Exist’ list.

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💕 Holiday Heist by @avengerofyourheart

When the art gallery you manage is robbed on Christmas Eve, you suspect the handsome stranger who flirted with you earlier in the day, but instead of involving the authorities, you take matters into your own hands with surprising consequences.

[starstruck-selfshipper]

Skyrim for the Fandom asks? 💕

Thank you for asking!! I could talk about all the blorbos I have all day lol.

Blorbo- Cicero! Idk who his voice actor is, but he did the MOST when voicing Cicero. I actually like how high pitched and annoying his voice is normally, but when it drops a few octaves? BOY... 😳 Also his slightly tragic backstory, his many years in isolation, the fact that no one treats this man with respect once he gets to the sanctuary despite him being the highest ranked member there, and the only one who gives a shit about the tenets. I always spare him, I never kill him, and I always take him on as a companion once I can. Him saying best friends forever is actually heartwarming, and the fact that he is so clingy and willing to kill on site anyone/anything that even looks at you wrong? Need me a man like that.

Scrunkly- Aventus Aretino. Why can I adopt any kid I come across, but not him? He's literally an orphan!! He needs a home, I have a home, we know each other through Dark Brotherhood business, why do I not get custody of this kid??

Scrimblo Bimblo- Erandur. The Skull of Corruption is very tempting, so most of the time I did kill him. But when I finally didn't and spared him? I realized he's actually super cool! Dark mysterious past as a cultist, realizing he was in the wrong and leaving, changing his name, and spending the rest of his life trying to atone for his actions? Mwah, excellent character arc!

Glup Shitto- Sinding. The werewolf you can find in Falkreath who starts the Hircine quest. I fucking love this man. He's a werewolf who stole a ring from Hircine, a literal GOD, out of a desperation to control his transformations. And after Hircine cursed it, causing him to kill a child on accident, he leaves society entirely. Responsible, tragic. And he should have been a follower!! When you're given the choice to kill him or spare him, he even says "I can be a powerful ally to you", and you don't get him as a companion past that quest. If the Companions are okay and can be followers, why can't Sinding? The guy literally has nothing left, nothing better to do. Let me pet his snoot if nothing else.

Poor little meow meow- Ancano. Yeah, he's a one dimensional villain, but he's so bad at it. Like, I became a mage a week ago and I completely foiled your plans and killed you?? Also I think it's hilarious that if you talk to everyone around the college and ask about him, his only two traits are suspicious and handsome. KING. You are supposed to be a spy. Why are you so obvious??

Horse Plinko- Astrid and Mercer Frey. I can't choose between them.

Eeby Deeby- Grelod the Kind.

[i-die-for-alastair-carstairs]

Okay so I don't know why but this song in my opinion screams ✨ALASTAIR CARSTAIRS✨ Idk why but this first part I think it make me think about post academia!Alastair especially when the lyrics said :I'm afraid of all I am" (this song is about breakups but... I like to give others meaning🙃)

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

A broken heart is all that's left

I'm still fixing all the cracks

Lost a couple of pieces when

I carried it, carried it, carried it home

I'm afraid of all I am

My mind feels like a foreign land

Silence ringing inside my head

Please, carry me, carry me, carry me home

The chorus definitely about Alastair relationships with Charles.. And I think that Alastair knew very well that his relationship was a "losing game" but you always think that the person you love will love you back

I've spent all of the love I saved

We were always a losing game

Small-town boy in a big arcade

I got addicted to a losing game

Oh, oh-oh-oh oh

Oh, oh-oh-oh, oh

All I know, all I know

Loving you is a losing game

After listening this masterpiece millions of times I strat thinking that probably this second verse can be related to Thomastairs (why I didn't stop to Alastair/Charles? Why I choose to suffer?)

How many pennies in the slot? (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)

Giving us up didn't take a lot (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)

I saw the end 'fore it begun (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)

Still I carried, I carried, I carried on (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)

"I saw the end 'fore it begun" I mean... It make me think at the scene in Chog when Thomas is angry at Alastair after all the gossip thing came out. I think that after he left Charles he was thinking about Thomas, maybe like a friend or maybe not but before anything could begin the mess happened.

This two phrases make me think somethink complicated.. The rollercoaster could be the feelings that Alastair feels about Thomas (all the angry, than Thomas goes to him when Ewlias died, then the sanctuary) and the games in my opinions are what Alastair is scared that Thomas will do ("you were my secrets" so Alastair thinks that Thomas would never talk with his friends and the last speech that Alastair gives to Thomas, the "I'm will not be one of the dangerous things")

I don't need your games, game over

Get me off this rollercoaster

I'm sooo sorry, it was a long journey 😂. I'm tired and sad and then I listened to this masterpiece and you know when you mind goes ✨Alastair Carstairs✨ but also ✨pain ✨. I finished goodnight everybody

[symphonicmetal101]

Wishlist For Someone Special

Ok, so I'm feeling really sappy and just a little lonely. All my friends are boring and my family members are too young for me to take to do some stuff.

This is kind of a wishlist of things I wish I had someone to do with or look forward to doing eventually...not necessarily romantic, but I wouldn't mind if it was. (broskis, I ain't never been on a date, not even, like, a platonic one, so bear with me if it seems ridiculous)

Stargazing- lying on a blanket in an open field or in the bed of a truck, just watching the stars, pointing out constellations, and making up stories

Watching the Northern Lights- bundling up in our warmest winter clothing, grabbing a couple campchairs and hot chocolate as we watch them dance and flicker.

Laser Tag- sneaking around, just trying to one up each other, or being on the same team and still- try to one up each other😂

Paintball- a little more painful than laser tag, but still fun. Checking up on each other afterwards to make sure there aren't any really bad bruises

Graffiti- I've always liked the way it looks. I would love for someone to teach me, or for us to learn together in one of those public graffiti houses

A Willow Tree- I would love to find a weeping willow tree and climb it's branches, only to sit and read there with my loved one enjoying their company.

Just Drive- just take a roadtrip with someone I love, blasting music, laughing, singing, and snacking as we blaze down the roads. It doesn't have to be long.

Visit an Animal Sanctuary/Reserve- I find animals fascinating, but also find that sanctuaries and reserves are more educational and often more humane than zoos.

Volunteer at the Food Bank or SPCA- just general acts of service. They make me happy.

Pillow Fortress- I didn't really get to make blanket forts when I was younger, so I want to try doing something even bigger! I want to convert the couch into a cuddle palace.

Spontaneous Dancing- idk man, it just makes me really happy. My dad used to twirl and dip me when I was little, so that's probably where it started.

Cooking/Baking Together- so what if we make a bit of a mess? So what if we screw up the recipe? It doesn't matter, it was time well spent.

Cleaning Together- Growing up as an only child for ten years and then becoming the oldest means I've done chores alone for a long time. I want someone's company, maybe we'll talk, maybe we'll work in comfortable silence, or maybe we'll blast music. I don't care. I would be happy just to know I wasn't alone.

Learning One of Their Hobbies- I want to learn something they know!! Please, let me understand a little better, I just need them to be patient with me.

Forest Walks- especially in Fall. I want to walk down an old trail, listen to leaves crunch under our feet as more fall from above I want the blustery weather to give us rosy cheeks and noses by the time our walk is over.

Horseback Riding- I've done it before, but I would love to bring someone with me. You have more experience? Great! I love to see that confidence in you. You've done it a couple times? Yay, we're in the same boat! Never done it at all? That's ok! I'll do what I can to help you!

Outdoor Movie Night- we don't have drive- in theaters anywhere nearby, but give me a sheet, campchairs, and a projector? I've got us.

Indoor Movie Night- let's bundle up and cuddle together while we watch a new movie. Or maybe it's a classic. Idc.

Try New Food- let's go somewhere for lunch and pick something completely foreign...(I am not eating guinea pig again though, thanks.)

The Wharf- if one of us happens to live by the ocean, we'll be frequent visitors. Not necessarily the beach, bit on wooden planks where the salty sea air still reaches you. We can watch the boats come and go. (Fisherman's Wharf in B.C Canada is fun. There's a really good Mexican food place😂 There's a blind seal named Sammy that lives there, and you can buy a bucket of fish to feed him. Be careful though, seagulls are vicious, being pecked by one sucks...yes, I needed a bandaid and my finger was sore for a long time. Idk if it's still like that, it's been a while. Sorry, just reminiscing a bit.)

Painting- let's buy a couple canvases and paint and see what we can do! It doesn't have to resemble anything, just do what feels like you.

Splatter Painting- dear god I've wanted to try this for so long. Just full on globs of paint and flicking it towards the canvas. (I was never allowed to do it because it was seen as a waste of paint. I couldn't even do it with an old toothbrush on a small canvas😑)

Video Games!- Please teach me how to play! Video games are banned in my family. I mean, I've done Just Dance, but that's about it. Mobile games have been kept a secret...basically just teach me to play and don't make me feel bad about playing, and I'll love you forever, mkay?

Ice Cream Date- again, idk. The idea just makes me really happy, whether we're sitting in a small shop, eating and talking. Or maybe we're walking, maybe holding hands, trying to point things out to each other, but our hands are full, but there's no way we're letting go. Or maybe we're sharing a cup of ice cream on a park bench, just people watching.

Thrift Store Outfits- I want to go to a thrift store and pick out the most ridiculous outfits for each other. We don't have to go anywhere, but just humour me when we're alone by wearing whatever I found for you, and vice versa.

Writing- writing a poem, a atory, a quote, or learning calligraphy and just writing their name- I want to write something to you

Books- let's go to the library and choose a book for each other, one that neither of us have read so we can talk and ask questions, come up with theories as we continue to read.

Books pt.2- if you write me a note and give me a book telling me why it's one of your favourites, I'll melt. I'll do the same for you, and soon we'll have a few more things to talk about and enjoy together

Music!- you bet your bottom dollar I'm going to send you music that reminds me of you, and I would be overjoyed to recieve the same.

Music! Pt.2- if you happen to play, sing, or dance, let's make something beautiful together! If not, I'll teach you!

Improv/rp- just making stuff up as we go, not caring if other people hear our conversations.

Trampoline Park/Something Similar- I just want to try it. Don't care if I break my leg, I want to try it. I'll care if you break your leg though.

Plant Shopping- again, idk. Just the idea of choosing a succulent or two to take care of together sounds nice.

Dance Classes- maybe you're already an amazing dancer, I'll let you take the lead. Maybe you just know the basics like me, we can learn together. (I know how to do the basics for, like, salsa, cumbia, bachata, swing, and waltz, that's it. Please teach me more🤩)

Sewing/Knitting/Crocheting/Fabric Work- useful skill! And maybe we can make something for each other. (Spoiler alert: you're getting a pillow case, mask, or a scarf, I can't do much yet😂)

Rage House- let's just let loose! Make a mess! Yell! Doesn't matter, all of it's legit. I just want to destroy stuff.

Weird Cuddles- again, just the idea makes me happy. If you're lying down, I may as well just flop on you, right? Or maybe somehow we end up upside down. Cuddling while we read books or listen to music. Ok so maybe just cuddling but it feels weird because I'm touch-starved👌

Late Night Calls- I've never done this with anyone under happy circumstances. Could you help me change that? It would be nice to have the last thing before I go to sleep be reassurance and happiness.

Calendar/Planning- let's make a calendar together with pictures of the places we want to go one day. Let's talk to each other so we know what we both want and make sure we put it down.

Scuba Diving- this is something I've wanted to do since I was little- actually it was the first job I said I wanted. I don't want to do it as a career anymore, but I would love to try it with you.

Finding Random Things- little things that remind me of you. Maybe I was out and found a heart shaped rock. Or I heard a bird sing and managed to record it. Or maybe there was a cute keychain at the store that reminded me of you. And that would be enough to make me smile.

Ride a Double-Decker Bus- I've done it before, but the excitement that comes with the thought of riding one again makes me giddy. Just being able to see the city and people from a mobile throne😂

Bike Riding- let's explore nearby, just riding together. Maybe you have trails you want to show me. You can lead, I'll follow. Or vice versa. If we get lost at least we can laugh about it later.

Camping- lets share a tent and a campfire together, roasting smores as we laugh and tell each other stories. Maybe we'll try and sing a few songs too.

Punch Buggy- just playing the game properly will make me happy tbh. It's been 8 years of bending the rules😂

Board/Card Games- yes. I will get competitive. But that's half the fun. Also, I would like to play these properly as well lol

Museum Date- maybe somewhere local, or maybe we were driving by and decided to stop, or maybe we actually planned to go. Let's learn something new together, take some pictures.

Comfy- I didn't know what else to call it. Basically, take out, sweat pants, (messy buns), snacks, drinks, and a good show. Bonus if it's storming outside.

Rain- watching it rain, listening tonit rain, going outside and dancing or running in the rain, jumping in puddles- I want to do it all with you.

Little Gestures- little things we develop as we get to know each other, faces that we come to understand, hand movements we start to copy. Idk, I find it really cute.

Ok guys, sorry this isn't what, well, any of us were expecting. I guess this is my Valentine's Day post?? Idk. If you read it, I hope you liked it.

Feel free to put who you thought of in tags or comments, real or fiction. Or add to the list if you want. I would love to know😊 I know there's a lot of "I wants" but that's because for the first time, in a long time, I feel comfortable admitting that.

51. Mutual comfort characters

[hexhealed]

          ˗ ˏ ˋ ( kristine froseth, twenty-one, cis woman, she / her ) — is that ANDROMEDA BLACK just saw in the courtyard? i hear they’re a SLYTHERIN, returning for their SIXTH school year, but something more juicy is them being ENTERPRISING & THOUGHTFUL as well as DETACHED & CONFLICTED. if you want some more details on them, i guess i could tell you that they’re PUREBLOOD, and from the rumors i heard, they’re currently allying with THE NEUTRALS. personally, i think they remind of: solemn family portraits lining a darkened hall, puppet pulling at her strings, archaic tomes precariously stacked, aristocratic nose to the grindstone, the sweet sting of venom, honey, & healing. but that might be just me. — ( kit, she / they, 23 ) ˎˊ ˗  

TW — unhealthy family dynamics, emotional abuse / neglect, v. vague allusions to mental health issues. 

basics ,

full name.  andromeda cygnella black. known as.  andromeda, andie. age / date of birth.  twenty-one / april 2nd, 1960. year.  sixth year. blood status.  pureblood. house.  slytherin. alliance.  neutral. gender / pronouns.  cis woman, she / her. orientation.  bisexual, biromantic, grey-ace. extracurriculars.  chaser for the slytherin quidditch team; member of the herbology, potions, slug, and occamy dueling clubs; hospital wing volunteer. additional stats.  click here.

early life , 

andromeda is born a mere few months after bellatrix, and is instantly her mother’s darling. for a long time, she doesn’t question — doesn’t even truly comprehend — the way her mother favors her, desperate as she is for her parents’ approval. they are exacting, demanding, withholding; they praise one daughter or another, it seems, only to shame the other two in their failures. 

andie takes what she can get, where she can get it, for as long as she can, letting her parents pit her against her sisters in a constant battle for attention, affection, and approval. but it’s a battle she starts to lose, middle child that she is. despite all andromeda’s efforts, it seems being perfect comes as naturally as breathing to little narcissa, and druella redirects her favoritism towards her youngest daughter. and while bella is at a disadvantage, she makes up for it in sheer willpower; she turns herself into their father’s perfect slytherin heir, what andie was supposed to be. ( note, of course, that this is how andie experiences this; the truth is that each sister was of course neglected and traumatized in their own way ! )

for most of her early childhood, andie doesn’t really question the world she lives in; doesn’t think too hard about the wealth, the blood purity, the high society circles in which her family moves. it is as natural as the air around her. yet she manages nonetheless to ruffle feathers, draw suspicion. at age six she questions innocently why uncle marius has been cursed from the family tree; the answer horrifies her, though she tries to hide it, saying nothing and staying up late at night wondering if her parents would ever disown her for something like that. 

( ..... will probably add some more once i’ve sorted some more black sisters plots ? )

she really enjoys quidditch and plays whenever she can find an opponent ( bella doesn’t care for the sport, and lets her know as much. ) it’s not a ladylike pursuit, her mother reminds her, but at least her father approves. at first, it’s only the children of her parents’ friends, all pureblood, all high-society, but as one by one they start going off to hogwarts, andie needs to find herself new friends. this is how she takes her first steps out of her ignorance, more interested in finding playmates than purebloods; but the common little muggleborn derisions that are the black family bread and butter do not do well among her new friends, and she starts realizing for the first time the unkindness of her family’s beliefs.

this is where the split starts, between andie and andromeda black, because whatever she is, she must be hidden; she leaves the façade of andromeda standing as she carefully slips out from behind it, and no one is much the wiser. 

hogwarts ,

to finally go to hogwarts is a relief for andie. it offers an escape out of the stifling environment and the constant disapproval of her parents; at the same time, though, it gives her every opportunity to impress them. and she still wants to, especially following in bella’s footsteps; she’s always admired her older sister, always wanted to be just as clever, just as talented, just as capable. it’s this burning desire to be valued that has the sorting hat deciding, after just a few moments, to place her in slytherin.

and so without realizing she slips back, subsumed once more into pureblood ideology, so much stronger when impressed by her peers; it’s much easier to dismiss her parents as outdated, and keep her mouth shut, than it is to disagree with the cool upper years, especially when they are conspicuously nice to her.

as time passes, though, she slowly becomes something else other than bella’s little sister, expanding her horizons at last somewhat. she excels academically, as is expected of her — cygnus and druella would not suffer their children to enter school unprepared — and joins the potions and herbology clubs, spending less and less time in the slytherin common room. hoping to play quidditch, she tries out her first year but fails; in her second year, she secures a spot as a chaser.

her year three electives become something of a bone of contention over the preceding summer; alongside arithmancy, andie signs up for muggle studies. her family disapproves. she has to assure them it’s a purely academic pursuit, that she’s only curious but never sympathetic — and she doubts whether they’re convinced. 

she’s still trying to be and seem apolitical, trying to toe the line, but with each passing year she finds it less and less sustainable. once, she might have been ignorant, simply might not have known better; now, she knows better, and she’s just a coward. at this point she can see straight through her family’s pureblood supremacy. but then, as much as it turns her stomach, they are her family. she loves them. and more than that, she fears them.

so to assuage her guilt andie simply overworks herself. ( can’t feel guilty if you’re too tired ! ) between club meetings, quidditch practices, and homework, she’s overworked as it is, but when her potions professor approaches and suggests, given her skill, she may be helpful to madam pomfrey in the hospital wing, she cannot refuse. it’s simple work, preparing ingredients, cleaning, changing sheets, but she finds it oddly rewarding. 

in her o.w.l. consultations, andromeda decides to pursue healing; she’s fascinated by magical medicine, and fantasizes about doing research and experimental magic, about pushing boundaries. but her parents would be happier if she simply said she wanted to be a st. mungo’s healer, so that’s what she says. the christmas holidays in her fifth year are the first holidays she chooses to stay at hogwarts; she tells her parents she simply must, that between her clubs, quidditch, and o.w.l.s she’s much too busy for a holiday. truth is, she simply dreads spending two weeks alone with her family.

she excels at her o.w.l.s, but it doesn’t leave her feeling proud, just relieved that she won’t have to face her parents empty-handed. the idea of spending all summer back in her family home is torturous, but thankfully she doesn’t have to; her parents pull some strings, talk to some old family friends and secure her an internship at st. mungo’s over the summer. she expresses her gratitude politely to them, and her relief to her friends in cautious letters, and stays in a room in the city for nearly the whole summer. 

personality , hcs , etc. ,

got the nickname andie at hogwarts; her family has always called her by her full name. her parents seemed unreasonably upset with her about it — something about throwing away family tradition, not honoring their wishes for her, and other nonsense.

loves to throw herself into her responsibilities, hobbies, and interests as a way of avoiding inner turmoil; has a strong problem-solving impulse that gets way worse whenever she has bigger, unsolvable problems.

speaking of, she loves herbology, catch her in the greenhouses most days of the week. she loves the smell, the warmth, the dirt beneath her nails, the way the rest of the school grounds outside feel so distant behind the glass. the greenhouses are her church and sanctuary.

monstrously overworked and definitely verging on a burnout; between school, quidditch, career thoughts, the impending war, volunteer work, and sorting through some deep-seated personal issues.

might be the nicest black sister, but that’s not really a high bar to clear. though she carries a lot of guilt and tries to resolve that by doing good work, keeping her head down and not being explicitly hateful, she’s not exactly kind. she’s a bit of a know-it-all and loves to argue with people, can be really condescending, lashes out when she’s feeling insecure, and can hold a grudge like nobody’s business.

very much enjoys muggle music, after it was shared with her by friends. she named her owl ziggy after ziggy stardust, knowing full well that her parents wouldn’t have the faintest clue what it meant. 

plots , 

just wanted to say first of all that i love plotting, hc’ing, brainstorming, etc. so please hit me up ! if nothing here works i’m super happy to think of something else. also, every single one of these is open to all genders unless specified ! i also especially love plotting based on other connections ( i.e. muse a and muse b are friends, muse b and muse c are exes, therefore muse a and muse c do not get along, or smth ) idk i just have a lot of ideas !

friends.   this could go a lot of ways ! very importantly, andie doesn’t pick her friends for their politics; they could be death eaters, order members, or neutral. more important is their ability to put up with andie’s nonsense. that being said alliances would definitely play a part in how they interact, etc. ofc.

unofficial engagement.  a betrothal is a bit archaic, andie’s made clear in so many words. her parents and this muse’s parents, rather than putting their foot down and making demands, are quite cunning in their attempt to play matchmaker. they invite each other and their family to dinners, ask after them in every letter, and never pass up an opportunity to throw the pair of them together. would definitely be a pureblood, ‘respectable’ and probably but not necessarily a slytherin ! how the two of them feel about it is also very open-ended — enemies, slow-burn, fake dating, friendship, i’m happy with anything !

exes.  give me a bunch of these ! there’s so many options for this. their first little ‘relationship’ that maybe lasted only a few months, going on their first lil hogmeade dates together ? first loves making plans to visit each other over summers ? some hookup that one of them thought was much more serious than the other ? something a lil star-crossed & pushed apart by families ? an ex andie unceremoniously dumped last year to focus on her studies ? exes who are good friends, exes who hate each other, exes who are so embarrassed to have dated each other they pretend nothing ever happened, just. any of them. pls.

crushes / flirtationships.  all the crushes ! an youthful crush that she swears she’s gotten over but she still gets flustered whenever they talk to her; someone who’s interested in her, but whom she has less than zero interest in ( or, alternatively, is pretending to have no interest in ); mutual crushes but they’re both convinced the other person hates them or is out of their league; mutual crushes but they’re also constantly bickering and everyone thinks they’ve already been married forty years; bad crushes that she feels bad about for whatever reason ( they are death eaters, or seeing someone else, or a rival in some way, idk ), etc. etc.

childhood friends.  lots of options here too; high society pureblood kids her parents approved of, but also any halfbloods in and around london who are into quidditch, and would play with andie ?

study buddy.  andie’s a big nerd. give her some friends to study with ? someone who won’t give her a weird look when she threatens to hex chatty first years in the library. they can ask each other questions and help with charms practice and share their hopes, dreams, and aspirations ! definitely made a pact last year to get x amount of o.w.l.s. should be in sixth year, but doesn’t necessarily need to be an overachieving nerd like andie.

potions partner.  fairly self-explanatory; they’re adjacent to a study buddy but work together pretty much exclusively in potions class. this would ideally be one of two types: either they’re also very, very good at potions and they’ve partnered together to make sure they both get top marks each class, or alternatively, this is someone who struggles with potions and who was partnered with andie, either against her will ( thanks slughorn ) or out of the ( unlikely ) kindness of her heart, and she helps them get up to speed.

academic rival.  the opposite of a study buddy. study enemy ? should also be a sixth year so that they share classes with andromeda. they’re both overachieving students and will stare daggers at each other in class whenever the other person raises their hand. andie feels very threatened and definitely lets her insecurity get the best of her in this dynamic.

quidditch rival.  is there anything better than a sports rivalry ? no ! this could be anywhere from a friendly bantering rivalry to a full on, hate-your-guts, will hex you on the pitch if i can rivalry ? could be simply because of their teams, because they have issues off the field, or because they accidentally ran head-on into each other in their first match and now can’t let it go ? just think this could be fun !

frienemies.  okay, hear me out. gimme a buddy for andie where their entire friendship essentially revolves around gently verbally abusing each other — or at least, that’s andie’s side because she’s a great big bully ! but if they’re ever in trouble or getting shit from anyone she will drop anything and go fight. someone she probably really adores but will only begrudgingly admit to. mostly she calls ‘em names.

petty enemies.  so, i know it’s stupid to hold onto old grudges when there’s a literal war on the horizon, but andie ? andie does not. she’s really pettier than that. would love for this to be someone who she just really butted heads with in her earlier hogwarts years and they’ve both just never gotten over it. they’re very petty and don’t even really remember why they don’t like each other but are they gonna get over it now ? heck no.

true enemies.  not petty, not somewhat friendly, not a rivalry but a true and burning hatred. just. give it to meeeeeee. this could be a muse with strong political opinions who really hates where andie stands & isn’t afraid to say so, but could also just be more personal; maybe andie did something ? i’m very okay with her being the bad guy here too.

confidant.  andie has a lot going on that she doesn’t/can’t really talk to other people about; maybe this muse is just a very good listener, or maybe they have their own deep dark secrets ? either way, they can tell each other things very few others are privy to.

patients.  might be a bit of a stretch of the definition since right now andie’s not a medical professional any more than a candy striper might be, but has your muse been injured at any point in the past year/year and a half or so ? it’s possible that you might be entitled to some compensation for them having to put up with andie being annoying as hell during their hospital wing stay.

[av-potatogun]

okay so i was trying to think of a crossover type thing between tua and the mcu, like in the sense of tua created the mcu after accidentally dimension hopping to a deserted universe creation base of operations. so like this is my little blurb for it. (idk why i was thinking abt this i was bored)

But anyway, in attempting yet another time travel apocalyptic avoidance moment, Five takes them to a pocket dimension by mistake. In it is this house/lab thing and when they all finally come to it starts altering itself to fit what they would find most comforting. As time passes, so to speak as time doesn’t actually pass before it has even started, the base they are in grows to understand the unique abilities within them and it uses its understanding of them to spark the start of the universe it was designed for. The spark based off of these six individuals creates the infinity stones, essentially making the umbrella academy the singularities that created the stones.

The time stone formed most easily, the latent effects of time traveling seeping from their pores. The space stone was easy for a similar reason, Five being woefully incapable of allowing himself to rest. The power stone came about quickly enough, flowing from Luther in displays of anger and rolling off of Vanya in incalculable amounts. The reality stone found itself at almost a loss, until the defiance of needing air showed itself in Diego and his true defiance of reality came to light. The mind stone pulled through with only the wisps of a power curled around the vocal cords of a woman who knew all too well how to damage the mind. The soul stone was quite possibly fastest to form, tumultuous and harsh from the burn of a man who could never break the connection to a soul even in death.

And so the stones were created, and the base had what it needed from the six that found a sanctuary in its walls. It will allow them to stay until they choose to go, if they choose to go. Comfort can be quite enticing to those who have grown used to it, and Five can always find a challenge. Maybe they will choose to go the way they came, ripping and tearing their way through time and space, or maybe the base could one day offer them a chance to live amongst the universe they helped create. That is up to them.