#if it is that then. i think you might need to actually go outside and breathe fresh oxygen

[weirdmageddon]

i was thinking about this since i posted earlier about us needing to address the trend of gen z men being pulled into alt-right pipelines might have contributed to the outcome of this election.

i think contrapoints is really smart, and from what i’ve seen, has been way more effective at getting people out of harmful ideological pipelines than i’ve seen from the majority of leftists online who instead berate and drive a greater wedge of antipathy (though i understand why! and it can be very hard to have empathy for the people who see you as a threat). that antipathy makes the right more radicalized because they don’t feel like they can talk about anything without the “crazy lefties” who won’t even engage with them. where did these issues come from?

what i’ve noticed, and i’m even guilty of this, is that people don’t interact with groups of people whom they refuse talk to, which makes realities more hypothetical in the minds of their opponent since they aren’t open to seeing reality from their perspective. this is true on both sides. from what i’ve observed, it seems to originate from hypothetical perception of the opponent, but when people treat those perceptions as though they are real, it becomes real with their actions, which then makes the antipathy justified to someone. again, on both sides.

what makes contrapoints so successful at breaking this down is that is that she creates these socratic dialogue skits that represent real people and ideologies, has a sense of humor, isn’t afraid to discuss these things, reframes how we see these things by introducing nuance to both sides. she’s a leftist, but she also knows how to engage without ripening division, of meeting someone halfway and being completely humble about it. she is able to soften extremes.

she is able to get into the mind of people who aren’t aligned with her views, understand the nuance and rationales from a realistic perspective, breaking down a big block of “this is all bad” into “ok, some of this makes sense…”, what this does is create a space for self-reflection that doesn’t feel ham-fisted (which could otherwise cause people to double down on their beliefs instead of opening up to other perspectives outside of their bubble). while also being entertaining and well-produced on top of it.

what she is doing is creating these scenarios and socratic discussions that SHOULD be happening in real life but aren’t in this polarized social climate.

i graduated from new college of florida this spring, the small liberal arts college that was in headlines across the country for ron desantis’s board of trustees hostile takeover and exodus of professors.

new students and student athletes from conservative walks of life were being basically incentivized to go there who were taught to fear the lgbt boogeyman growing up in their conservative communities. but once they actually interacted with lgbt students there, many of them they felt like they understood them, and they weren’t as bad as they were told they would be. new college of florida was also famous for getting derek black (child of the man who created stormfront, and godchild of the kkk grand wizard david duke) out of white nationalism. their peers at NCF called them out but also interacted with them, invited them to dinner. black wrote a book about it.

now of course some people are too far gone and you shouldn’t waste your time with them, like derek’s family for example. but i also think a lot of people who voted for trump are not informed, are operating off of emotion and knee-jerk mentality because it’s easier than thinking, and they are not seeing the discussions that need to be had to change their mind because fuckin…nobody is doing them.

and we feel this visceral disgust to people of the opposing party because of its associations. i just want to know how it happened and how we got to be like this. i think social media is partly to blame and also the algorithms that take people down dangerous pipelines and sharpen them, insulate them.

i myself understand the vitriol you might have for anyone that voted for trump. i feel so disappointed that half the people of this country voted against our collective benefit. and i’ve seen a lot of sentiment from the left today saying “every single person who voted for trump is dead to me. i disowned you”.

you can see the reality of trump’s demagoguery, and it’s so obvious, but what i want to know is: what do they see? why did they vote for him? emotion and entertainment travel faster and have more reach than reason. and it’s that’s why i think contrapoints’s videos are exemplary at tackling this ideological divide. this is something i’ve been thinking about for months before today and i thought now was a better time than ever to give my two cents on it.

[drbased]

‘Getting started’ ‘getting the ball rolling’ ‘taking the first step’ is a narrative. It’s not real. There is no ‘process’ because the future isn’t real; only the present is is. And only with looking back at your memories you generate a narrative of your life; it’s naturally retrospective. We are narrative creatures who make meaning out of said narrative. But that doesn’t mean the narrative is ‘real’ - it’s a construction of your brain that you need to respect as part of you. Externalising that narrative and pretending it’s ‘real’ is actually a major insult to your brain’s magnificent ability to process and make meaning, and therefore it’s a fundamental insult against yourself.

Some people can use a theoretical future of themselves as motivation, and good for them. But if it’s not working for you, you need to consider why. Despite not being able to get out of bed sometimes, the person who made this comic still made something. Despite having your periodic breakdowns, you still moved your fingers to reblog this post. Compare and contrast the difference between why you do some things and not others. ‘But that’s different -’ yes, it is different. But there are only actions, consequences and what you value. You value not being thirsty, so you take a drink. You value not being broke, so you drag yourself to work. It’s exactly that deep. Narrative makes you forget that you’re always in a direct 1:1 relationship with your environment. And that feels scary, but it’s not - it’s how we’ve always existed, from the very first rudimentary lifeform whose only sign of life was ‘want nutrients -> consume nutrients’. We want to think we’re more sophisticated than that, but we’re not.

Narrative is a comfortable cushion, because narrative makes you forget that when you ‘start the ball rolling’, you don’t magically become a montage, or a cut-scene version of yourself. You’re still there, you’re still making decisions, you’re still feeling some type of way about the stimulus you’re experiencing. Depression is a narrative cushion, and that’s why it feels comfortable. Never feeling responsible for yourself feels safe, but in doing so you communicate to yourself that you don’t deserve to be here (which becomes literal in the form of suicidal ideation).

In my experience, if I can’t get myself to do something, that’s because I actually don’t want to do it. And the reasons I don’t want to do it might make me feel deeply embarrassed: I don’t want to learn pottery if it means I have to take a bus across town to get to the class. I don’t want to read a certain book because it’s too long. I don’t want to prepare that dish because its too expensive. Sunk cost fallacy is one hell of a drug. And narrative has you always feeling outside of yourself, as if you owe something to some universal force of objectivity which is telling you you’re supposed to do those things: you said you were going to do it, you’ve bought the tools, you’ve told your mum, why aren’t you fucking doing it? It’s so easy, what’s wrong with you? But even that’s an abstraction, because in reality nobody is telling you that but yourself. You might not consciously believe in this universal force of objectivity, but you will find yourself bristle when challenged about it. If someone says ‘you don’t have to do that’, you may want to fire back ‘but I do!’

There are only actions and consequences, and what consequences you value. There is. no. ‘should’. There is no ‘have to’. There is no ‘need’. If you stop brushing your teeth, maybe they’ll fall out, and maybe you don’t give a shit. Or maybe the thought of that horrifies you, and suddenly you’re motivated to brush your teeth. Narratives will have you forget that it’s your prerogative as an individual to want, and those wants are never going to pure or 100% correct. That concept is fake as the narrative is. Make no mistake, all these things are useful for us to make more informed decisions so we can live rich, fulfilling lives - but by that nature that means they come from within us and are how we generated meaning and process the world and our selfhoods.

There is nothing ‘wrong’ with you. And as with everything else, that ‘wrong’ is also a constructed concept and is therefore not ‘real’. I still use the word depression to describe what I went through, but I understand now that believing in what society says being ‘mentally ill’ is is exactly what was holding me back. Society says being mentally ill means that you’re broken and wrong and incapable of making rational decisions for yourself. What I discovered is that I’m always a rational agent, and it’s my prerogative to be an individual, and that narrative cushion of depression was actually preventing me from making the decisions for myself that I’ve always known I’ve wanted.

People who have never had depression yet never have exercised, ‘followed their dreams’ or eaten healthily in their lives will be doing exactly the same shit as you and thinking their life is pretty chill whilst you have breakdown after breakdown. The only difference is, those people will stop ‘bedrotting’ the moment their bestie starts a Zumba class and suddenly they’ve caught the exercise bug. They’re not fundamentally more rational people than you just because they don’t have depression; they’re just not reliant on that narrative as you. They’ve not categorised what they’re doing ‘as not exercising’ - they’re just chilling, living their life, and besides the gym is all the way across town. So when suddenly an opportunity for exercise comes along, they’re not burdened with all this narrative - they just want to do the thing, maybe for low-key ‘bad’ reasons e.g. they don’t want to miss out on things their friend is doing, or there’s a hot guy teaching the class.

What I eventually came to learn is that I’m not living in a separate dimension entirely incapable of being like them. In fact, if you’re anything like me with mental health problems you probably have something they don’t: self awareness. And whilst self awareness feels so deeply embarrassing, remember there are only actions and consequences, and what you value. And you exist in reality first, including the reality of you. You can’t ‘old man yells at cloud’ your way outta this one.

The moment I decided to treat my self awareness as a boon instead of a curse is the moment I was able to write aaaaall this shit on tumblr. And is that bad of me, that I didn’t write a book instead? The book is the ‘correct’ route, no? But that’s the thing; I know that if I had stuck with believing that I ‘had’ to write a book, I would have written nothing. Am I so fucked up in the head that I can’t muster up the attention span, to ‘start the ball rolling’ in writing a whole book? I dunno, that’s a narrative categorisation of myself that doesn’t mean anything real. I’m just who I am now so I’d rather work with that. You can call me that if you like, but I’m just chilling.

[ruyakasunshine]

F1 drivers rated on how likely they are to know what ao3 is

note : this is just for entertainment. I will also use this to make a general reminder not to get anything fanfic/rpf related outside of sites such as tumblr, ao3, or wattpad. Enjoy!

This is just the current grid, because if I had to do it with every driver that raced this season, I'd get a surprisingly high amount of drivers to talk about.

20. Fernando

Grandpa. Need I to say more?

19. Checo

In a recent GQ Sport interview, he revealed that he didn't even have social media on his phone. I'd be surprised to hear he has any ao3 tab open up there.

18. K-mag

I don't feel like I need to explain this one. But I also believe that if Haas got him to read a chapter of a wattpad fanfic out loud where he has to replace Y/N with his own name after every penalty point he gets, he would have stopped causing so much ruckus. Or he might even cause more, who knows what goes on inside his mind.

17. Nico Hulk

Hear me out, he doesn't know what a fanfic is, but if he were more popular with the writer, he'd read the shit out of those.

16. Valterri

I could pay actual money to hear him read a 'kidnapped by one direction' self insert story out loud. If there is any Sauber intern lurking here, please consider. Wattpad as a sponsor would bring you a lot of money, think about it. I promise you will see a rise in your fandom if the name of the team was "wattpad kick sauber". I would buy merch. You need the money the way the constructors are going. Think about it.

15. Lance

I don't know too much about him, but I will assume he doesn't spend too much time on social media, or googling himself with all the hate he gets. But maybe if he were to read a strollonso fanfic, we might get to see him have actual expressions on his face. Granted, that would be a look of horror, but I will take what I can.

14. Carlos

I think he might combust if he read any ABO fanfic. I might want to see that.

13. Max

He is too busy sim racing to care. Good for him, I wish I could say the same about myself but alas I am too busy reading the same fanfic for the 23th time.

12. Yuki

I believe if you pronounced the term "Y/N" next to him he might assume that's a car brand. Or, like, hello in a foreign language. Again, good for him.

11. Zhou

Hear me out, fanfics seem to be quite popular in China, and he has a sister, there is no way he hasn't heard of the existences of it. I don't think he has read any though, which is for the better.

10. Franco

Our dear Franquito hasn't been on the grid for long enough to discover the amazing word that fanfics have to offer, but let me tell you that if he hasn't found out stuff yet, he'll find some soon enough. Let the writers have time to write a little bit more about him, and soon we'll get an instagram live of him reacting to those.

9. Liam

I think he is young enough to have googled himself (he had to find something to do since he's been a reserve driver since like the year 2010), but he also hasn't been a permanent member, so he might not have enough material to accidentally stumble upon.

8. Esteban

He googles himself. He knows there are fanfics. And he fucking likes that. If there is a rise of pierresteban fics on ao3 after Brazil 2024, he will be the first one to know let me tell you that much.

7. Lewis

Okay you might be wondering why this senior citizen is up here, and the answer is simple : he is too famous not to know. Like COME ON. He's been here since 2007 (which is longer than some people who'll see this post have been alive for— that's a scary thought for another day), he has been in famous and televised rivalry, and he has to live with the existence of the quote "everything but a lover" about nico and him.

There is no way he hasn't READ a fucking brocedes fanfic. If he is willing, I will teach him how to use ao3 so he can look-up some "fix-it" fics. He might use some inspiration, and who is better for that than tired college students writing about their sad ass in between lectures?

6. George

He seems like the type to lurk a lot around the internet, so the chances of him finding the link to a fic on the third page of google isn't impossible to me.

If you find any comment of someone correcting your spelling, you know who did it.

5. Pierre

He probably googles his name too often not to have stumbled upon a "Reader x Pierre Gasly" wattpad fanfic. sigh.

4. Alex

Alex, I know that you are the second most likely to have tumblr (right after george who actually has an account). The chances of you knowing what a "lemon" is is way too high for my liking.

3. Charles

The C in Charles stands for Chronically Online. My boy was known for liking tweets about himself, and we know that fans talk about fanfics on twitter. He clicked on a link of a lestappen or sebchal fanfic at least once out of curiosity let me tell you this much.

2. Lando

Too chronically online not to have read fanfics about himself. I just know he typed in "lando norris fanfiction" straight in google at least once. Jail.

1. Oscar

Here me out : his sister is a K-pop fan. If you believe that she never yapped about a fanfic she read to her brother, you are strongly unfamiliar with sibling relationships. But the chances of him not listening to her are also very high, so maybe he shouldn't be so high up my list. But oh well.

He is also good at hiding his game, but he is as online as Charles (you thought you were sneaky but we caught you clicking on that link of Max playing air-hocket dear Osc.)

For my own mental health though, I will assume he hasn't read about his own self yet.

[redvexillum]

I wasn’t planning on posting any stories this month since I’m still on a bit of a break, but with everything going on in America right now, I just felt the need to reach out. I know there’s nothing I can do to change things, and this may seem small and silly, but writing is what I know how to do. And if even one story can bring a smile or a bit of comfort to my friends, then I want to share it with you. Please hang in there. You’re not alone.

PART 01. CATASTOR AND HIS NEW DO

The mirror reflected back a tired version of you, someone with hair that seemed almost weary itself—dull, brittle, lifeless. It felt as if it siphoned off the vibrance around it, capturing any glimmer of light and snuffing it out. You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes in concentration, pondering whether today might finally be the day to give it a fresh look, a touch of sparkle.

“Nyaahh,” came the unmistakable squeak from behind you. There was Catastor, your mischievous little companion, perched primly on the dresser. From his place in the reflection, his big, round eyes stared outward in comical opposite directions, his pink tongue lolling out as he mimicked your tilted head with an exaggerated, inquisitive look.

“Baby!” you called, your heart swelling with warmth as you spun around, arms open wide. The sound of your voice was enough to make his tail wag wildly, his body nearly vibrating with excitement. Without hesitation, he launched himself at you, his small, warm body landing like a soft, cozy blanket against your chest, his form molding against you with the comfort of melted cheese.

A purr reverberated through him as he nestled closer, pressing his face into your neck, his ears flattened in absolute contentment while his tail swayed in erratic, delighted rhythms. You ran a hand absentmindedly over his back, savoring the soft fur beneath your fingertips. His warmth seeped into you, a soothing weight that melted the day’s tension as his purring grew, a low, comforting rumble.

“I’m thinking of getting my hair done,” you mused, fingers trailing through his soft coat. His purrs only deepened, and the faint tug of relaxation settled over you like a spell, easing every muscle into stillness.

Catastor blinked up at you, each eye fluttering in its own haphazard rhythm. You chuckled at his antics, reaching down to tap his little nose. “What do you think? Should I cut my hair?” You knew he couldn’t actually answer, but you enjoyed these small conversations; there was a special solace in talking to him, as if he understood more than he let on.

In response, he stretched his neck, bringing his face to yours, then gave the tip of your nose a tiny lick before plopping his head over your shoulder, nuzzling into the crook between your neck and shoulder. A small laugh bubbled up as his soft fur brushed against your cheek, the feel of his familiar warmth filling you with a calm contentment.

After a moment, you lowered yourself onto the bed, trying to peel him off of you, but Catastor flopped onto the mattress with an exaggerated stretch, limbs splayed like a second blanket, his belly exposed and tail twitching in lazy arcs.

“Well, I’ll be getting my hair done today, so I’ll need you to watch the house while I’m gone,” you murmured, giving his soft belly a gentle scratch. His eyes drifted shut, head lolling back as a new wave of purrs filled the room, his front paw giving a contented twitch.

“I’ll even bring a treat back from Cannibal Town,” you promised, your heart melting as his purrs softened, his form going limp, edging on sleep. Catastor always struggled with separation, and more than once you’d found him nestled secretly in your hair after shrinking himself down to follow you. So, you’d learned to wait until he was fully asleep before attempting a quiet exit.

As his breathing deepened, his little paws twitching as if in a dream, you held back a giggle and rose carefully. Holding your breath, you tiptoed to the door, gently closing it behind you. Outside, you finally released a long sigh, the crisp air filling your lungs. You loved his protective nature, but he’d once torn apart a whole street after a gang had tried to hassle you. As grateful as you were for his fierce loyalty, his fervor sometimes led to more trouble than you bargained for.

Keys and wallet in hand, you glanced back toward your room, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. “Sweet dreams, baby,” you whispered softly. “I’ll be back soon.”

At the salon, you were greeted by Mel, the ever-charming Poodle Sinner who had a reputation for her wickedly red lipstick and long, flirtatious lashes, popping her gum with every word. She tossed her towel over one shoulder with practiced ease, flashing you a wide grin.

“Darling!” she greeted, smirking as she chewed her gum. “’Bout time you came back, hah!” With a wink, she gestured toward the chair, deftly laying out her trays of potions and lotions, each bottle filled with promises of shine, volume, and glamour.

“What’re we doing today, hun?” she asked, fingers weaving through your hair as she examined it with a critical eye. “My, you’ve let her grow!” She gave an exaggerated cluck of her tongue when she caught on a knot, making you wince. “Now, don’t you worry, we’re gonna make you shine like a star again.”

As you settled in, you couldn’t help but imagine Catastor napping peacefully at home, dreaming of treats and waiting loyally for your return.

You laughed nervously, watching Mel's smirk in the reflection as she raised a brow, eyes full of mischief. The cold mist from her spray bottle caught you off guard, sending a shiver down your spine as your shoulders jolted. Slowly, you settled back into the chair, letting yourself relax as she worked her fingers through your hair. “I was thinking…maybe some curls?” you mumbled, cheeks warming as a certain image flickered to mind—one of a tall, red-haired demon with that wily smile and fluffy ears.

“Oh my!” Mel snickered knowingly, brushing through your hair in slow, precise strokes. “There’s a new man in your life, isn’t there?”

Immediately, your cheeks flamed, and your gaze dropped to your hands, fingers twisting together as you stammered, “N-no! Nothing like that, really…he’s just, uh…just my boss.” But your heart betrayed you, racing faster with every word. The thought of admitting any hint of interest, even to your friend, left you shy and tongue-tied.

“Say no more, sweetheart,” Mel trilled in a sing-song voice, dismissing your excuses with a wink. “I’ll make you look like a knockout!”

A tiny squeak escaped you, your face now red as a tomato. “It’s not—it’s really nothing like that!” You tried to argue, though the grin tugging at Mel’s lips made it clear she didn’t buy a word of it. Before you could protest further, she gave your head a light pat, her smile bright and warm. You couldn’t help but smile back, the joy in her laughter lifting you from your shyness.

As Mel worked, the usual salon gossip filled the air, talk of the latest mischief and drama from the East Side of Pentagram. She’d been one of your first friends in this strange place—a friendly face in the chaos of Hell. You remembered that first day, scared and alone, stumbling into her salon. Now, as you sat there, chatting and laughing with her, you felt a happiness and warmth that chased away any lingering loneliness.

The smell of her berry-scented products wrapped around you as she applied them, each brushstroke feeling like a balm. And despite yourself, your thoughts drifted back to your boss—the Radio Demon. Would he be surprised to see you tomorrow, all dolled up with new curls? Maybe he’d even…like it?

Your hands pressed together, a hopeful smile spreading across your face as you imagined the look on his. You could practically see his eyebrow raise, his grin widening in that sly, amused way.

After what felt like hours, a sharp gasp broke your reverie. Mel had jumped back, a look of shock on her face. “Oh, honey, there was a…pest in your hair!” she exclaimed, eyes wide.

Confused, you frowned, tilting your head. A pest? Before you could ask, a loud, indignant yowl rang out from behind you, and you felt something shift in your hair. In a flash of pink, something furry tumbled forward, landing on the floor in a poof of exaggerated volume.

Your mouth dropped open as you stared down. There, standing in a mound of fluffy, pink fur—puffed out so large he looked like a living cotton candy puff—was Catastor. His fur had poofed to double its usual size, the familiar outward-pointing eyes and red monocle nearly swallowed up by the mass of fluff. His wide grin only made the sight more ridiculous.

“Catastor!” you gasped, dropping to your knees as he waddled toward you, his puffy paws kneading at your knee in that familiar, pleading gesture for comfort.

“Oh, baby,” you cooed, scooping him up and pressing him close. His fur was so soft and squishy it felt like sinking into a plush cloud, your arms disappearing into the sheer volume of fluff. He burrowed his head against you, the tremble in his yowl finally quieting as you gently stroked his back.

“Oh, my, Satan,” Mel laughed, eyes twinkling. “You’re holding a walking ball of cotton candy!”

You looked down at Catastor, his little face half-buried in his own fur, his yowl softening to little meows. The sight of him, so utterly ridiculous and adorable, sent a wave of giggles through you. “Looks like we both got a spa day today,” you teased, scratching under his chin. His eyes drooped, his purrs growing content and low.

“I know just the thing!” Mel said with a playful wink, disappearing behind the counter. She returned with matching ribbons, one for each of you. Gently, she tied a little bow around the small, perfect curl atop Catastor’s head, then expertly fastened the other bow in your newly styled curls.

Turning back to the mirror, you burst into another fit of delighted giggles. Your hair looked amazing, vibrant and full, bouncing with every movement, and in your arms was Catastor, fluffy and bow-adorned to match.

You cradled him close, feeling a warmth spread through your chest, a happiness that lifted you. Tomorrow, you would see your boss…Alastor, with your new look, confident and refreshed. And maybe…just maybe…he’d notice.

But for now, you were content to just sit here with Catastor, your matching bows and poofy styles reflecting the joyful, silly energy you felt bubbling over.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

Kitty huffs, a rare moment of agitation, and blows it out sharply. She thrusts her hands forward and hurls the string of pearls onto the couch. She curls her fingers in frustration and stares at them, like a puzzle. 

“My goddamn hands won’t stop shaking,” she utters. 

You cross the room to her, wordlessly, and take the necklace. You move behind her to clasp it in place over her collar. She wears a straight cut black dress with no ornament. The pearls are a delicate touch to the otherwise plain outfit. 

“What do you think he wants?” Adrienne finally asks the question none of you dared. 

You look at her helplessly. They can never know you did this. They can’t ever know that the reason they are so scared in that moment is your fault. They might have longed to pull the trigger themselves but actually doing it is different. It’s... irredeemable. 

“He said we’re under his protection,” you say flatly. 

“Oh, come on, you’re the most skeptical of all of us,” Kitty accuses, “you believe that. Daddy was just another soldier.” 

“Maybe but what else are we going to do but obey?” You counter. 

Kitty winces and Adrienne’s eyes bat. Your older sister shakes her head, “you’re not the one to give up.” 

“I am.” You insist. “If it keeps you two safe then I will do whatever needs to be done.” 

They’re silent for a moment as they look from you to each other. They nod. “Us too,” Kitty says. “We have to take care of each other.” 

“Like always,” Adrienne agrees. 

Silence floods the room again. There’s a car waiting outside a few minutes later. You march out in another sombre parade. It’s a different kind of funeral that day. You’re not mourning the past, you’re mourning the future and what could have been and will never be. 

You sit together in the back seat. You hold hands. You never went to many of these ‘business’ gatherings. Outside of a wedding, you weren’t invited. Your father was only invited by the few people who knew him in the outfit. He was only ever the big dog when he barked at his three daughters. 

The car stops, you get out. You squeeze your sisters’ hands before you detach. The man who drove leads you to the immaculate white facade of the grand hall. You’re somewhat confused by the venue but this is not a day for questions. You had your curiosity beat out of you long ago. 

Inside, you’re led to a set of open doors. You enter and another man stands to beckon you further inside. There are bodies all around, all in dark suits, muttering under their breath, coughing, tapping fingers. 

Your eyes skim around cautiously. Barnes sits at the head table. He’s calm and unbothered by the new arrival. He’s indifferent to his men as the one next to him whispers in his ear. Rogers stands behind the boss’ chair as he speaks to him, gripping the elaborate orb that tops the post of the straight-backed seat. 

Barnes’ gaze meets yours only as you and your sisters are put at a table of your own. It feels like some hearing. A court case. Are they hearing the crimes of your father? But he said... 

No questions. There’s nothing the answers can change for you. Adrienne fidgets, wringing her hands restlessly, and Kitty sit so straight it looks like it hurts. None of you look past the table. Your daddy would smack your mouth for your wandering eyes. 

“Alright, now that we’re all here, let’s gut through the bullshit,” Barnes’ voice brings the voice to deathly lull. The men shift their bodies and their focus. The doors close subtly behind the boss’ timbre. “Now, don’t think I brought you here because of a single soldier. You know better. All of you.” 

His voice is stringent but restrained. Still, it’s enough to instill fear. You gulp and dare to look up at him. He stands and puts his hands on the table. 

“First, a crooked accountant. Bald clown messing around. Then I got men going out, coming back short. Then dead.” He snarls. “I don’t care about the small men. With due respect,” he pauses and glances in your direction, “but I know they don’t think for themselves, too. I know it was one of you. This isn’t just chance. 

“One of you popped Warren ‘cause he found you out,” Barnes continues.  

You sense movement like a soft breeze. Rogers edges along the wall, unnoticed. You stare in slow motion as he moves quickly towards another table. 

“And I found you out too,” Barnes hits the table with his fist. “I went through the numbers and I found the fucking thief.” 

You frown. It’s... lies. He told you that day. At the funeral. Your daddy was the thief. Now he’s telling them something different. He used you. It makes a good story. A mysteriously dead soldier, missing money... makes it easy to trim the fat. 

“Milo,” Barnes points and a chair scrapes and teeters.  

Rogers grabs the capo from behind, closing his hands around his neck. He drags him easily, like a rag doll. They aren’t so different in size and yet the blond moves the other easily as he bulls around the table and brings the man to the center of the room. 

“You been pocketing my money.” Barnes stands straight and gestures casually. 

Rogers tosses the other man, Milo, to the floor and kicks him so he sprawls. His assault is methodical. He doesn’t let up. He stomps and batters the man into the polished wood. The noise of cracking bones and breaking cartilage itch in your ears. The accused hacks and chokes on spit and blood. 

Your sisters smother gasps and startled sobs. You’re only mortified by your own indifference. Are you so callous to feel nothing for a man chosen to pay for father’s death? For your actions? You just can’t. You know every man in this room is just like your father was. Cruel. Mean. They deserve it just as much as he did. 

“Enough,” Barnes orders and Rogers steps back, combing his long hair away from his face as he puffs. The man on the floor is a puddle of wheezes. 

“Your houses, your cars, your accounts, all of it, will be turned over to Warren’s daughters. For his good service to me. He died finding you out. He died for the good of the outfit. He smoked out the mole,” Barnes says. “And you orphaned his daughters, just like you meant to do to every man in this room.” 

Silence. Stillness. No one moves. 

“You are all dismissed. On your way out, you make sure to pay your disrespects to that scum,” Barnes growls. “And look at him, hard and long, because the next fucker I catch with his hands in my pockets will be right there with him.” 

There’s a moment before anyone moves. The first man to rise is greying around his temples. He comes out from behind the table and nears the shaking form on the floor. He spits on Milo then sends his pointed leather shoe into the man’s stomach. He marches out without looking back. 

The next man follows suit. Spit, kick, go. One after another the men disburse in the same manner. The noises, ptuah, crack, tap, tap, tap, form a sickly rhythm. You can only sit and watch. 

You reach to your sisters and take their hands again. You glance between them. They look on in horror. They aren’t made for this. Your eyes flit back to the head table and find the king looking over his court. No, he’s looking at you. 

Barnes dips his chin and his eyes gleam. He is the master. No one dares to challenge the narrative he’s written. Whatever he says is all the truth they need to worry about. Same goes for you. 

[mintmatcha]

obsessed with kirishima in that new sero series ngl,,, if you ever want to or decide to write, i'd love to hear abt kirishima and reader hanging out- or just how they are with each other. how they became friends etc etc

anyways,,, how have u been miiiint how's it going ;w;

on her knees, his mom smoothed his hair down one day and told him he had to be friends with the girl across the hall. the city was still half built from after the war, his own cuts healed, yet pink.

"you're such a sweet boy," she mumbled, with a kiss on the forehead. "go be sweet."

and so, he was marched over, box of sweets in hand.

"i'm eijiro-" he uses his given name when you answer the door, instead of the family one labelled outside their door. "my mom made these for you."

You don't reach out to take the box. he's afraid you're about to back up and close the door when you shake your head.

"you d-didn't need to do that," you whisper, ducking away from eye contact. Oh, he thinks. That's why his mom sent him over here.

"it's cool!" He pushes the box forward and you gingerly take it, "My mom loves to do stuff like this."

You bow, just a dip of your head, and Kirishima gets a view into the apartment. It's smaller than his family's, with the living room right by the front door and the walls glossed with pink posters. There's a bookshelf packed with figurines and manga.

"whoa." Kirishima gapes. "your parents much really like anime."

"Oh, uh-" You shut the door a bit, trying to block his view. "I-it's just me. I like anime."

"Your parents let you decorate the apartment? That's so cool."

"no, it's just me." You still can't meet his eye. "My parents live out in the country side and it's too far away from my school."

It's not uncommon for students to get apartments near their high schools, but Kirishima thinks it's a strange choice for something as skittish as you. Living by yourself, in the middle of the city, while they rebuild it all: he doesn't know if he could do it.

"That genius school down the road?" Kirishima points in the (probably incorrect) direction. It's not UA, of course, but it's just as competitive to get in. "You gotta help me with math sometime-- I'm drowning."

For the first time, you smile.

"I am not a genius," you say. "But I can take a look."

-

Thursdays turn into tutoring sessions. You're a year behind him in school, but a year ahead of him in math, which makes you a tough grader. Kirishima thinks that you might actually be a genius sometimes. His mom pays you in warm meals, his dad irons your uniform for you when he has the time.

It fills the gap leaving the dorms left in his social life.

"don't you get lonely?" he asks one night, sitting in the middle of your apartment. the faucet leaks, a constant, drip, drip, drip, that your dad promises to fix the next time he can make the train ride over. "your friends from school never come over."

you've scribbled little Xs across your piece of scrap paper, each one tiny and dark, drawn with a shaking hand.

"yeah," you say, "it's okay. they're just busy, i guess."

[mufos-photo-album]

Sum Mufo lore below the cut vvv

My character playlist page for Mufo is coming along, though one big roadblock is that it needs background art! I've talked before about how I wanted to draw Mufo's home base someday, and I think just drawing a small portion of it for some background art would be a nice place to start. One thing I struggle with when it comes to backgrounds though, especially character-based ones, is making them feel lived in. Backgrounds I've drawn in the past often felt too clean to me, like no one is living there! Unfortunately I don't have the time right now to slap down some sketches to flesh out Mufo's room, but I can write about it to reference later, so here we go!

Mufo lives in the Vault of Knowledge, more specifically inside what can be thought of as a "storage closet". These storage areas resemble larger areas of the Vault, but are mainly used to store menial things like cleaning supplies, spells, and personal belongings. Mufo has part of a storage closet all to herself.

Her room is basically like an indoor tent. The "walls" are actually just pieces of cloth. It's convenient since she can enter and exit her room at any location, though at this point she has dedicated "door spots" — specific spots she decides she is allowed to walk through. Anything that isn't a door spot she treats as if its a regular wall and thus not normally walk through.

In terms of solid furniture (like, heavy stuff), Mufo might not have much. At the moment I definitely imagine she has a bed and maybe one or two bookshelves. Maybe she has a chair in there, to go with the shelves? Other furniture she has is mainly pillows and blankets, strewn across the floor so that many places in her room are comfy.

Currently debating if Mufo decorates at all. Like the stuff I listed before is mainly functional in nature. Maybe younger Mufo wouldn't have cared about decorating, but present day Mufo does since she has finally seen the outside world for herself and is insanely inspired. With that in mind, I gotta think about what Mufo decorates with. I definitely think if you showed Mufo some fairy lights it'd be OVER for her.

This might be one for the decoration category, but maybe Mufo keeps souvenirs from her journeys if she can pocket them.

Her room almost definitely has some memory lanterns and books lying around. This would have been especially true when she was younger (like the drawing above!), where such things were her only form of solitary entertainment. As she got older, she became better about returning memory lanterns and books to their rightful place in the Vault (though not all the time, hehe).

At the moment I don't imagine Piripu has a home, but if he were to crash anywhere, it'd be at Mufo's place. He probably does it often. With that in mind, Mufo's belongings probably got pushed around with Piripu becoming a pseudo-resident. Fortunately, he is a boy of few belongings... For now?

[feroluce]

Oh my gosh the way the Pop-Up Shop event ended and what it hinted at that's going on rn, and what it might imply about what's in store for the next time we see Sampo, I'm so excited AAAAAAA

Because it seems it really IS our Sampo, and whereas before I was absolutely delighted by the thought that he was possibly getting fucked with by some outside influence, and that was why he was saying such strange things... There's nothing quite like that going on here. There's no memetic virus messing with his head. There's no imposter, no possession, no nothing.

Just Sampo, and the ominous, all-consuming dread that hangs over his head like a guillotine, as he willingly walks right into what he is sure is a trap. ♡

Because this event was weird right off the bat, yeah? Sampo invites us in on a business deal that won't make him any money? The hell???

And I was just waiting on pins and needles for it to make sense, and oh, I was not disappointed at all. Because I've got a nice meta post about it over here, but Sampo actually DOESN'T make a lot of money most of the time- but he does always get something out of his dealings. He works for favors and good will and networking, but never for nothing. And it was the same here!

Sampo didn't make any money with this little business venture because that wasn't what he needed from it. That was never his goal to begin with. He just needed something entertaining.

Sampo has the key to get into the tavern's basement where Sparkle has been keeping his mask for him, but he still needs to be let into the front door of the tavern itself. The fun stories he got from this event were his entry fee. He leaves at the end because he's probably already on his way to Epsilon, where the World's End Tavern should be.

So that explains part of what was so strange this event. It's the rest of his ooc tendencies that have me like foaming at the mouth though because AAAAAAAAAA

There's long been hints of...some? kind of strain between Sampo and the rest of the Masked Fools. Like it starts all the way back in Belobog's main quest with the big infamous fourth-wall breaking sequence, where Sampo talks some shit.

And it continues in the Aetherium Wars event, where we finally get the confirmation that Sampo is a Masked Fool and even get to see him interact with Giovanni, one of his brethren! And where Sampo talks more shit. He also leaves the trailblazer a warning against Sparkle, who they hadn't met yet, and probably the Masked Fools in general.

And for some strange reason, it seems to be popular fanon that Sampo like. Talks a lot of shit? Or is rude in general? Like I feel like I see a lot of jokes about if Hook says a cuss word, it was probably his fault. But Sampo is actually pretty polite with everyone. I think the only time we really see him be harsh is when he has to set some hard boundaries in the museum event. Otherwise, he conducts himself like a model friendly businessman. Like he IS super shady and slimy, but he's still polite about it. I'm pretty sure the only time he actually talks any shit, and so bluntly, is about the Masked Fools or Epsilon as a whole. He really seems to have some sort of beef with them.

There's also his hilarious relationship with Sparkle, which I'm including for consideration because we don't know how common people like her are in the Masked Fools, so she might represent how Sampo interacts with a lot of them. ...But I'm pretty sure Sampo's grudge with her runs deeper than that anyway jdksajfdkljas

She's so funny I hope she fucks with him more FJDKSJAKD

Anyway, the point is, Sampo doesn't seem to see eye-to-eye with a lot of the rest of Aha's followers. And it was never hinted at before the pop-up shop event, but now I'm wondering if it might be like. An actual dangerous sort of situation.

Because during those brief packaging sequences, you get some. Pretty wild text dropped on you. There was actually a really cool explanation for it by another user already! But basically, all of the phrases are more fourth-wall breakage. They're mostly in-game achievements...except for one.

"This must be a trap create"

We never get to see the rest of the phrase. Just "This must be a trap create."

That is the only one we don't have an explanation for yet, at least as far as I know.

AN EDIT: Thank you to @/kittaykattz for this one, because it looks like someone DID find the source of this line. Unfortunately, it only came up in my search after I looked for the full phrase. I couldn't find it on the wiki before orz And yet this somehow does NOT make it any less ominous ajfdklsjkl The full phrase is "This must be a trap created by a Masked Fool!" and it comes from another in-game achievement, "Boxes and Ladders." Which is really cool, because I had figured the last line must be something from Penacony, since it was the only area not represented so far. So in that way, it fits perfectly with the rest of the text. Now we have one achievement from every area of the game, which fits with the theme that Sampo has been following the Astral Express, the trailblazer specifically. It's the way that it doesn't fit that's the weird part though. Because the rest of the lines that come from in-game achievements are all titles; that's why they were so much easier to find. For some reason, Hoyo saw fit to single this one out. They didn't use a title. They specifically chose the line about falling into a trap set by a Masked Fool, a trap with seemingly no way out, where one's only choice is to take a leap of faith and pray to make it out ok in the end.

Love that. Absolutely love that. That's so fucking tasty, I will be daydreaming for days on end now about Sampo finding himself in a horrible situation with no way out where all he can do is make a desperate attempt and pray to whatever might listen (probably not Aha fjaksljdk) that he'll survive it WHEEEEEE

Because Sampo talks so strangely throughout the whole event, but it gets worse day by day, morose and morbid and dreading and sometimes even almost like he's warning the trailblazer against something about to happen.

I've already lovingly discussed it in an analysis about Sampo's name (alias included) but like. There certainly are some fun connections there. The Sampo of myth was smashed and lost to the sea. Poisson was flooded. Brueghel died suddenly and left a final painting of a storm at sea unfinished.

The Masked Fools are referred to with imagery of water and the sea. And frequently so.

And so I do wonder what Sampo knows, and what he's expecting to happen when he gets to that tavern at the end of the world. If maybe he thinks he's walking right into a trap, and is doing it willingly, doing it anyway, because, well.

Belobog is on the line.

And Sampo has already proven he seems so ready to do whatever it takes to protect it.

[followthebluebell]

Hi hi!!!! I’m super super sorry to bother you in such a stressful time but I have some things going on with a cat in my life and thought you’d have some ideas!!! My boyfriend recently picked up a female cat from his friend. This is his first ever cat, and the friend said they were strays he found as kittens and now keeps on his catio. The problem is that the friend said the female has always been kind of shy but explained that the two brothers were a lot more social and kind of butted her out of the way to get attention. So now she’s at my boyfriend’s house, she’s been there since Monday, and she won’t come out from under the bed at all during the day. She has been lightly exploring at night and has used her litter boxes a couple times, but last night she didn’t use them or eat or drink at all. He’s getting really worried and stressed since this is his first cat and I keep telling him to be patient. Is there anything else we can do to make her more comfortable or is it a waiting game? Do you think she’ll actually warm up or is she just going to be a cat that’s stressed out being in a house vs outside on the catio?

hello, hello! honestly, i'd rather talk about cats than politics any day. I don't know how to solve a country's myriad of problems, but i know cats.

so, it's really normal for cats to be shy at first, especially in a new environment. For a moment, imagine what it must be like: you are a small animal who's known only one place all your life. Suddenly, you are in a new place! With strangers! You're vaguely aware that they PROBABLY aren't harmful, but you're really not sure. Better to stay safe until you ARE sure.

It can take a cat up to three months to FULLY become comfortable in their new environment (tbh, it can take MUCH longer for some cats, but they tend to be extreme outliers). The fact that she's coming out at night to use her box and eat are VERY good signs.

So when i recommend is that your boyfriend spends some time on the floor. He doesn't need to interact directly with the cat--- in fact, I recommend he ignores her mostly. Just sit down on the floor with a puzzle, a book, a video game--- just anything that's quiet that lets him exist in the cat's environment for a little while. By just existing there, he can demonstrate that he's not a threat. He doesn't need to be there for like. a long time or anything. he can start out with small stretches of time and adjust as necessary.

She might start to come out slowly, but try to leave all interactions up to her. He can offer her little treats--- little bits of chicken (no seasoning; cheap roast chicken is a favorite, as long as it's the unseasoned bits. you can even just boil up chicken breast), temptations, churu (or anything similar) are all favorites and do pretty well. Leave the treats within her easy reach. As she starts to come closer, leave the treats closer to his leg or something. The idea is to get her to associate him with Tasty Delicious Things.

It's also fine if she doesn't eat the treats immediately while he's watching. Again, she's stressed and scared; she doesn't realize he doesn't mean any harm. She's just scared :( She's a very small cat in a very big world that's suddenly gotten a whole lot bigger.

He could also buy some feliway diffusers, but this can be a bit pricey. I can say that most cats react very well to them, but most cats react just as well to chicken, so let's start with the lower cost items.

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

Okay so since this I've been getting spammed with several different AU versions of the RWBY Girls.

The Tarnished Spartan, Withered Rose and Aged Dragon... Okay, so I'm probably gonna get some hate for this... But Hot Take, these make no damn sense...

The idea that ANY Member could survive in the EverAfter Like Jaune did is laughable... Ruby Literally Killed Herself like what...Three Days in?

Blake Runs... Repeatably from shit, and is ironically the quickest to emotional outlashing...

The one who'd last the longest are Weiss and Yang... And to be frank, we've seen Yang Break, and succumb to Depression, and that was before her whole character became all about Blake. I'm only half joking about that, Seriously though the fact that her biggest mental issue was over her and Blake's relationship Reveals exactly why she'd fail to last there... She'd break, in a year alone, and give into depression.

Yang just isn't as emotionally and mentally strong as Jaune, it's why after The Fall she gave up while Jaune didn't.

Weiss, I could see Weiss going insane since the EverAfter was REALLY fucking with her logical sensibilities. Ultimately I think she'd last the longest but also would go way crazier then Jaune...

But what would do her in is Alyx poisoning her...

And then we have Pyrrha... HAHAHAHA!!! No, No wait, I need to laugh more! SERIOUUSLY!!! PYRRHA!!! PYRRHA!

Dude, I don't know why People fail to grasp that Pyrrha for all her strengths, and amazing points, is emotionally and mentally one of the weakest characters in the entire show.

The girl is a literal champion, invincible, had Weiss arrogant freaking Schnee trying to Brown Nose her way into being her partner. And somehow she lacked the confidence to even try and flirt with a boy she likes.

She will literally tell Jaune to go ask out Weiss to the Dance Knowing it'll fail because let's face it, up until then it always has... Instead of asking him herself... Outside of combat Pyrrha incredibly weak-willed. It's actually something I really appreciated about her character, that she was only a Mary Sue when in battle.

Outside of it, she's not the walking talking solve everyone's problem girl... And we see this with more then just Jaune, we saw it when she was tearing herself apart over choosing whether to become the Fall Maiden or not.

To the point where she used her powers and lashed out at Jaune... Of Course, that is Valid. She was going through a lot, through a really horrible, cruel decision...

But that's exactly why I know she'd fail in the EverAfter, because the EverAfter is so much more mentally taxing. Physical strength only means so much when that place fucks with your mind more then anything.

And let's not sugar coat it, Pyrrha would be in a rough spot emotionally compared to Jaune. The fight at Haven... Would be the same I'd say. Pyrrha would Rush Cinder outta rage. And even if Cinder hadn't attacked her, Vernal was winning, and I can't see her sparring Weiss. So Yeah, Weiss would've died and it'd snowball into worse.

Hell, regular Pyrrha would break in the EverAfter, let alone a guilt-ridden one. All it takes is some fucked up mind game involving Jaune in that crazy world and I'd see Pyrrha rushing to Ascend herself.

Okay, well... I'm done with my little rant, sorry all y'all for dropping that on you. And hey, if you like the idea of these Aged warriors from the EverAfter then power to you. Just cuz I don't like them doesn't mean you shouldn't.

I'm just getting sick of ask pertaining to this is all, especially the more toxic ones saying 'If Jaune could do it, then it'd be easy for (Insert RWBY Girl's Name)' as those are utter bullshit as the only person who might be sane enough to last there alone might... Might be Ren.

The series has shown that while their strong physically Team RWBYs members are mentally way more fallible then Jaune.

Okay so diving a bit into the Fate series I'm realizing something Jaune qualifies to be a Heroic spirit. The Rusted Knight is literally his legend... And now I'm trying to think on how much his legend (The Story) Effects him.

Would he be a Rider (Juniper Mount) Or a Saber... I would suggest Ruler but from my understanding it requires one to not covenant to Grail which due to his regrets (Pyrrha, Penny & Alyx) I can't see Applying to him.

And finally what would be his Noble Phantasm? Thoughts anyone?

[honey-minded-hivemind]

So for like Glass Child Reader, I didn't really have any specific ideas when I started rambling...but I ended up thinking about the name really literally and kinda going from there. So for a powerset, I kinda imagine them having the ability to camouflage/change color kind of like a chameleon. It's not like Mystique where they can look like anyone at anytime, but they can blend in with the crowd or an environment super easy. Be it blending into a forest-scape or looking like an average citizen walking through times square, they can pull it off. Sometimes a simple eye and hair color change can throw people off and Reader knows better than to let people get a good view of their face.

They're a stealth expert as opposed to a combat expert making them actively important for missions so the Xmen know what to expect, but easy to forget since they aren't part of the "climax" of whatever problem the Xmen are dealing with. But it might have been impossible to win if Reader didn't get them the info they needed. When times were simply, Reader might have used their powers to entertain their friends: see what crazy color combos they can make their hair, how fast they can blend in with the wall, try to match someone's exact shade of nail polish, etc. Dumb teen things that were fun at the time...but may have inadvertently made their friends brush them off as fun/cool but harmless or not helpful.

I imagine that it isn't until the Xmen are lacking important intel that someone actually starts to realize that something is wrong...

Oooo... so Reader is someone who tried to entertain, to get others to relax and have fun, but then everyone thought they didn't have problems, weren't struggling in their own way, that they didn't have a life outside of the persona they crafted just for the others...

Maybe they have a codename like Glass, or Mirror, or Chameleon... maybe it's Prism, or Mimic... but they seem to live up to it, never being seen as important, or in need of anything, and slowly forgotten...

(If you would like, @sugar-soda suggested they join Deadpool when they leave it all behind... if not Deadpool, perhaps someone else or an organization?)

[magalidragon]

🏒 the deal 🎶 | “Sometimes people sneak up on you and suddenly you don't know how you ever lived without them.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @youwerenevermine! 🥳🥰😘🤗🎂🎈🎊🎁 Okay fine whatever so I am a few hours your time early, but I was so excited to share and honestly, the world is going to end soon and I wanted to get ahead of the game. I went back and forth over what to do for you and couldn’t decide so went with this. The original hockey boyfriend Mr. Garrett Graham and sassy Hannah Wells! It is Jonerys meets THE DEAL! I hope you like it! So grateful to this fandom for introducing me to you! Love you bby! 😘

There was a very strong possibility Jon Snow had made a terrible mistake making this deal with Daenerys Targaryen. He figured it was easy enough; she was a smarty pants and could help him get his grade up in what was supposed to be an "easy A" philosophy class and keep him from getting benched. In doing so, he'd pretend to date her and the guy she had a crush on-- fucking Robb, his own damn cousin-- would see her as a bit more than weird silver-haired purple-eyed Dany and want to ask her out. Since Robb wanted anything he couldn't have-- particularly if Jon had it first.

Now he was watching Robb openly flirt with her and was squeezing his beer bottle so hard he figured he'd be benched not for his shitty philosophy grade but for having to get stitches in his stick hand. It was supposed to be an easy quid-pro-quo. A deal. Started off more annoying than anything else-- Dany could not have cared one single snowflake that he was Queen Alysanne University's star left winger and frequently let him know it. He honestly appreciated it, even if he had to really wear her down, chasing her all over Winterfell to get her to concede.

That had honestly been fun. Then there were their random long conversations after studying. Topics ranged from the best pizza toppings-- pepperoni and more pepperoni for him, while she saw nothing wrong with pineapple on her pizza-- to the best Marvel movie-- he didn't mind that movie about 'The Eternals' while she thought it sucked and liked 'Ant Man' more, all the way over to which House of Commons member should win the two highly competitive ridings near Winterfell or who really won the War of Five Kings?

He also had admitted to her some things he'd never shared with anyone. That he might be the aloof "Ice Man" of QAU hockey who could get any girl he wanted, he actually played that image outside of his truly private life. In reality he just couldn't think of girls, he was too busy trying to do his best to keep his grades up to get a very difficult degree in metallurgy and cultural anthropology while also making sure he didn't lose his rookie contract with the Winterfell Wolves professional hockey team.

Just like he knew all she wanted was to get the bonus money from the School of Drama and Music's winter showcase to help with her mother's medical bills, back in Pentos. That her dream was to sing on stage at the King's Landing Opera House.

All of that swam in his head, those conversations and late nights, sitting out in the quad on a blanket while she quizzed him on long dead Maesters, or that time she'd come to one of his games and he'd scored a hat trick, so she ahd to come to every singel one afterward.

He had done his job; he talked her up to Robb. He lingered in the living room of his and Robb's shared house when they would talk, just in case there needed to be extra prodding. Now they were on a bloody, fucking date.

"Jon, buddy, let go of the beer. The beer didn't do anything to you. Come on man, there you go." His friend and other roommate, Satin, carefully pried his fingers off the glass neck, moving the bottle to the oak bartop. "Alright, so when are you going to tell her?"

"Huh?" He was now glaring at the back of Robb's stupid auburn head, wondering if he could cut off those fucking curls while he was sleeping and blame their fourth roommate Theon. "Tell her what?"

"That you're in love with her, you dipshit."

Thank the gods he wasn't holding the beer bottle because he'd have definitely dropped it. He also was glad he didn't have any beer in his mouth, because that would have been sputtered everywhere as he gaped at Satin, who was now studying his fingernails nonchalantly. "Wha...what...I'm not....she's a friend! She wasn't just a friend, she was...Dany.

Dany, whose first words to him were: "I'm sorry do I know you?"

Dany, who always tied her long silver braids up on her head in a knot using pencils. Who hummed random song llyrics and chords and scribbled them on ltitle pieces of paper. Who had a voice that sounded like fucking angels from teh rafters. Who snorted and cackled when she laughed. Who called him "Wolf Man" instead of "Ice Man" because he had a wolf back home and one tattooed on his arm.

Dany....Dany who always smelled like lemons and lavender and who...

He blinked. It was like seeing everything under a different filter. Brighter. Across the bar, he watched Dany laugh at something Robb said, but it didn’t meet her eyes. She was playing with the silver guitar pick she used, something he had learned was a nervous habit. Her eyes— vibrant, happy lavender— did not fully meet his, but he knew she had glanced his way.

Gods. Was he in love with her? Was that what this feeling was? He couldn’t love her. He had to focus on hockey and studying and…it was just easier to keep that other side of him out there. If Jon Snow actually found a girl…a music major who didn’t know a deke from a slapshot and thought there were quarters not periods…he’d never hear the end of it.

He didn’t care. He didn’t want her with Robb. “And why is that?” Satin asked.

Fuck he said that out loud? “Because she’s mine,” he snapped. He paused. “No she is her own person of course I don’t own her obviously but…” He drained the beer bottle. This was one thing Robb was not going to steal from him. He stomped over to their table and didn’t even wait for his cousin to say anything before he glanced at Dany. “Get your coat, we still have to finish that Agatha show.”

She cocked her head up, confused. “Jon what…”

“Come on.”

“Jon,” Robb began, but he didn’t even have time to finish. Jon grabbed Dany’s hand, tugging her away and towards the back corridor. “What the seven hells Jon!”

If she wanted to fight him, she could. He’d let her anyway. Dany did not pull very hard and protested over Robb’s loud complaining. “Jon seriously what the fuck are you doing?!” She pushed at his chest when he tugged them into the stairwell that led up to the bar manager office, the dim lighting throwing her face in relief. She was fuming. She was a dragon, he expected it. “What was that!?”

“I want to see something.” He didn’t wait for a response. He had to do this. So he crashed his mouth down over hers.

The shock had her gasping, lips parting under his. Soft, plump, perfect lips, and he pressed gently, his hands dropping to her small waist to hold her upright against the wall. She had her hand on his shoulder and for a second he didn’t think she was going to kiss back and made to pull away, apology at the ready, knowing he had fucked this up completely.

Until her hands dove into his hair and she opened her mouth wider, moaning and pulling him to her. He groaned, desperate now, a man who had his first taste of water after wandering a desert, and cupped her jaw, angling her head so he could rise over her, sliding his tongue along hers. Gods. She tasted like strawberries. How!? One of life’s mysteries, he supposed.

The need for air separated them, their breathing ragged and foreheads touching, noses brushing. Her gaze lifted, meeting his. “I take it you don’t think I should see Robb?”

He shook his head, whispering, “Come home with me. I’ll make you a deal.”

“And what’s that?”

He kissed her again, nipping her bottom lip. Her breasts were pressed to his chest and his knee had wedged itself between hers. They were about ten seconds away from a public indecency charge. His voice dropped, gravelly. “You come home with me and I’ll make you come within ten minutes. Five, even.”

Her cheeks flushed pink. “And what do you get out of this deal?” she asked.

He pretended to think, before flashing a grin. “The knowledge I made you come. Oh and, our next movie night you don’t wear underwear.”

She smirked now. “I am not one of your puck bunnies.”

“And you know I don’t do puck bunnies.”

After a second, she barely nodded. “Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got Wolf Man.”

“So it’s a deal then Targy?” She hated that nickname. The glare she shot him had him grinning.

She pulled at his hand, towards the back exit. “It’s a deal.”

[foodtruckery]

y’all i’m thinking about stan’s hearing aid and i have FEELINGS.

yeah, yeah, yeah, i know it shows up exactly once and is pretty clearly written off simply as “old man has hearing aid” because that isn’t unusual at all at stan’s age. and sure, if we consider that filbrick, caryn, and ford are never shown with any hearing devices, we can assume this isn’t hereditary hearing loss.

BUT WHAT IF IT WAS. stan is only 17 when he gets kicked out, and we don’t have canonical ages for filbrick and caryn. so it’s very possible that if hearing loss does run in one of their families, it may not be showing up noticeably yet, or it might not be obvious enough that’s what’s happening. it's really easy to just think "ma is loud" or "pa doesn't pay attention" and that's that.

so i’m thinking about a stan who doesn’t know he’s at risk of losing his hearing early. stan who has so much more to worry about than something like that and who probably wouldn’t even notice it was happening until it got bad enough. stan who gets really fucking good at reading body language and facial expressions so he can grin and saying the right thing at the right time or redirect a conversation where he wants it to go because he can’t admit that he has no idea what the fuck someone said to him. stan who’s so goddamn loud all the time, and sure that’s partially his personality, but that’s also what happens when your hearing starts to go — you get loud and you don’t even realize you are until people start pointing it out.

stan who already has to look over his shoulder all the time being woken up in the middle of the night by a sound like a foghorn that makes him think oh, fuck, rico’s goons found me, they’re outside, i’m fucked, i’m fucked. only to slowly realize….the foghorn isn’t outside, it’s not some guy’s truck. in his head. it’s a horrible sort of tinnitus he didn’t know could sound like that. and it scares the shit out of him every time it happens, cause it’ll keep happening, completely at random, for years.

stan who i refuse to believe has insurance, and even if he did, do you have any idea how expensive hearing aids are??? this motherfucker won’t go and get his vision rx updated, and that’s not difficult insurance to come by, generally speaking. meanwhile, hearing aids aren’t even covered by a lot of plans, and these bastards cost several thousand dollars each. so where the fuck did he get his hearing aid?? is it even programmed for his hearing loss???? and if by some miracle it was, originally, when the hell was the last time he had a test done to get the settings adjusted?? we only see him wearing one — does he only NEED one or is that all he could afford??

when i think of stan and ford out at sea together i always think about stan’s fucking hearing aid. you can’t get that fucker wet, they aren’t waterproof! if he has a battery operated model, how many batteries did he bring with them?? you’d be appalled how often you have to change out a hearing aid battery, and that’s assuming you actually take it out and open the battery door every night — would stan??? or would he try and sleep with the thing in more often than not because even after all these years he can’t stand the idea of not hearing someone coming to hurt him while he’s got it out.

did you know that hearing loss can fuck with your brain if you were a hearing person? if you go too long without being able to make out/understand sounds like speech, your brain can eventually stop trying to parse it. that can increase your risk of things like iterations of dementia. do y'all ever think about how stan’s hearing loss might exacerbate the effects of the memory gun??????

[brokenpieces-72]

Hybrid au is so tastyyy

My minds stuck on reader getting their first romantical partner and the boys just being EVEYWHERE the lovers don't get a single second alone and do not even think about closing the door when alone that's a no no

Okay so I would say this happens when Spirit is a little older. As to whether the partner is human or hybrid I’m not sure.

Romantic Recon

You started with just hanging out but you got curious about a romantic partner. You got attached to them and they enjoyed your company. They were sweet and charming. Thought your ears were cute which always made you blush. Sometimes Johnny would notice and inquire, but you wouldn’t notice so you just shrugged it off, all happy and sunshine. Johnny doesn't let it go.

Your partner finally asks if you want to start spending more time together, and lo and behold, Konig overhears. Does he bring it up with Soap? Yes absolutely. Ghost is with him, and so is Gaz. They’d already suspected, your hormones do increase when you’re close to your partner. And of fucking course they get protective.

Horangi teases the fuck out of it. You swear everytime you just want to sit and talk with your partner he comes into the room to “grab something” or “pass through”. Yeah right, you know recon when you see it.

Konig does accidentally walk in on you. At one point you are audibly frustrated, and he backs out of the room. He didn’t mean to walk in, really. You probably shouldn’t close doors though. The last thing he wanted was to walk in on something you shouldn’t be- okay okay, you got it. Please don’t go into detail.

Price doesn’t mind you having a partner, but no closed doors. He’ll knock, to give you some space, but it’s more like a chance for you to stop canoodling before he opens the door. Door has to stay open or you can be out in rec room. Besides you have some work to do anyways. No you don’t get to bring the work back to your room, and your partner has another task they’re needed for.

Alejandro steps in when your partner is alone, you had to get up to grab something. At some point he calls your partner aside to ask a few questions, making sure they did the work they were supposed to. Then he asks what your partners intentions were with you. That made your partner uneasy. Nothing bad sir, they swear.

Rudy tag teams with the colonel, and will have the cadejos scratch on your door if it’s closed. Once you tried to hide with your partner just to talk, it was really just meant to be a simple chat. They were having a rough day and you wanted to know what was going on. Everything would be okay, you know it would and-really?! Rudy just stood there holding the door open. Everything okay in here? Obviously just go! The door was left open and you apologized profusely to your partner.

Ghost is annoying cause he acts like he hasn’t done anything. Yeah he definitely didn’t pass through the walls to see what you were up to. Closed doors are fucking useless with him. You half suspect Johnny put him up to it. No he just found it easier to pass through on his way to coffee. You roll your eyes, and tell him not to that. You’re a grown woman, and don’t appreciate him just coming in to your room whenever he pleases. You have a full on confrontation after he walked in on you and your partner in your room. You get why he did it when you were younger and your handler was a jerk, but he didn’t get to do it now. Simon actually respects your wishes. He still keeps watching though.

You figured if you couldn’t get privacy inside you’d try outside.…Gaz what the hell? You tried the roof where you sometimes sat with Gaz, but Gaz landed and told you two to get another roof. Oh come on, you were there first. Whatever. Your partner suggests a hike later on, and you love hiking and think you might actually get away for a bit! Yes! You could show your partner some of the best spots! Your partner finds your excitement adorable. Gaz flying overhead made your cloud watching a little annoying. Your partner is used to it at this point.

Johnny… okay Johnny was the one you could understand being protective but holy shit could he tone it down! When he asks who made you blush and you told him he went straight to the soldier. Since then he was watching like a hawk or asking someone else to check up on you. If he even sensed your hormones being different he would ask what you were up to tonight. Yeah, right it’s not nothing. You’re still not telling. He’ll sniff it out. He does and it’s frustrating. If he walks in he tries to cover it up, like it’s nothing, sorry he was just grabbing some food, or something. The final straw was when you still didn’t tell him what you were doing and he learned you went out without telling anyone with only your partner. He went full wolf mode tracking you down. That was fucking it! When you heard him coming you went into your full wendigo form, staring him down. The werewolf growling and your towering Wendigo form startled your date, and when you finally returned to base they asked if you two could take a break.

Price did give Johnny a hard time about go so protective. He understood why, but ha! You weren’t letting him off that easy. That night you were upset and did some crying. This wasn’t fair, you were an adult… and as an adult you were going to set some rules of your own. No joke you came to Price a day or so later requesting a meeting. No not with him, though you wanted his attendance, you wanted it with the whole team. Yeah Horangi better be there too or you would ask Konig to help you strap him to a chair to listen.

The atmosphere in that room is awkward. When Johnny tried to apologize after what happened you ignored him which never happens. As you left the room Ghost made a comment about him being in the dog house. You poked your head back in glaring. Oh no, Ghost was haunting that dog house too. Shit. In the meeting room everyone was present.

“Are you all aware I’m an adult?” You asked.

The room was very quiet with a few exchanging looks. You’ll take that as a yes.

“And you are also aware I am fully capable of making my own decisions? Of making my own mistakes and maybe even making good choices?” The room gave a few nods. Yeah okay, where was this going?

“So then you should also be aware that despite being the youngest on this team I am fully capable of having my own sex life.” You stated, arms crossed and glaring at each of them. Some of them went red.

“You’ve been avin sex?!” Johnny asked, voice raised. That’s what he focused on?!

“FUCKING NO!! Not that I would even have a chance with you lot fucking spying on me 24/7 like I’m thirteen!” You shouted back. That got Johnny to back off. You were upset, and he was the cause. They all were in some part.

“Spirit, what is this meeting about?” Price asked. You know he wants you to get on with the main point. It wasn’t just to have an argument with Johnny.

“I just want to have some proper alone time with my partner. We can’t easily leave base whenever we want, and there’s tons of people coming and going, I get that. But the few times we can be together to just hang out or cuddle for a bit, someone walks in on us, and all of you seem to have forgotten how to close the door, or that I am entitled to some level of privacy!” You explained. Okay, that was a much better explanation. There’s some undertones of emotion in your voice. The team was so used to you being their little one, they seemed to forget sometimes that you’d grown up.

Price gives in, and asks what you propose. You want to set some ground rules. You were permitted to be alone with your partner if you so desired. If they needed you, they could text or call for you, you could hear it. If the door is closed they had to knock, and had to wait for your response before coming in. No trying to get between you and your partner, or pulling you apart for other tasks unless it was actually required. It was something they all had to follow, but Johnny had only one condition. That you at least tell him where you’re going if you do leave for something. He’d only follow if it was an emergency.

By the end of the meeting, everyone parts ways to go about their usual routine. Gaz stuck behind while Johnny gave you space at Simon’s request. He noticed you were upset and wanted to apologize for the fly by. Not that it would matter, since your partner wanted a break. Kyle assured you that your partner needed time to relax, and adjust to the crazy hybrid family you had on base. It couldn’t hurt for you to take some time for yourself as well. Give it maybe a day or so, and then go talk to them. The woods would probably be the best to ensure you have some privacy. If you want, Kyle will wait for you on the roof.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @yune1337

[acourtofthought]

Out of Elucien and Gwynriel, who do you think is more likely to have their story told next, and why?

I just want to preface this by saying Sarah could absolutely write either pairing first. Only she knows what her 5 year (10 year??) plan is for this series and whether Koschei is supposed to be a bigger bad than he currently seems or whether she's going to introduce an even worse villain that she'll tie into different crossover plots. All that could make a difference in who is getting the next book.

With that said........

I think Elucien makes the most sense. First they are both more strongly connected to the current ACOTAR plots. At the end of SF they were worried about Beron, Koschei, those on the continent not signing the peace treaty, the issues in Spring.

To date, neither Bloomsbury or Sarah has ever made the announcement that you need to read the CC series to understand the next ACOTAR book. Even if they did it wouldn't make a lot of sense because most casual readers don't follow Sarah or Bloomsbury therefore they'd have no way to know what order you needed to read the series in. To me, that logically means the events of HOFAS cannot kick off the next ACOTAR book and truth be told, the ending of HOFAS didn't actually leave us with an actual plot that needs resolved. There were hints of what might come but the characters were not left thinking, "this is a threat to our world right now and we need to deal with it." Especially not when they already have more pressing threats to their world, the ones that were introduced in ACOWAR, the novella and SF.

Second, Elain and Lucien have been waiting a very long time for the resolution to their mating bond / love story. It's not that Sarah can't dive into a Gwynriel romance but I'm not sure their romance is more of a story right now. There's no real tension between them that needs resolved, they're in the baby stages of things. It's a beautiful place for them to be of course, it's fun to see them beginning to interact but I think it would be odd for Az to go from lusting after Mor, wanting to go down on Elain then end up mated to / in love with Gwyn all within the same year. I think Az could use a bit of time where he's removed from his centuries of pining for unattainable women to focus on his issues alone so that he's the right kind of love interest for Gwyn. And where Gwyn has a little more time to explore the world outside of the library, where she's not going from leaving it for the first time in two years to being mated to Az that same year. (Girl deserves to see what else is out there and make Az sweat a bit).

But Elain and Lucien? Their will they / won't they has been a major theme in the series since book 2 and not only for them but for all the characters. Feyre and Nesta struggled with the realization of the Elucien bond then finally came around to it. Az can't stand the scent of their bond, Cassian feels sad for Lucien's longing over his bond, Rhys is worried about the ramifications of Az trying to dick Lucien over because of the Elucien bond. To me, it's not something that can really continue lingering on in the background without resolution, not when every single character is talking about it / thinking about it. Not the way Gwynriel's romance could easily take a backseat and Sarah could give it a little more time to cook, add a little more drama to their setup.

With that said, I'm not Sarah so I have no idea if her thoughts are similar to my thoughts!

[lauvfool]

⋆𐙚₊˚Cindy Lou Who⋆H.Jisung

"𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒑𝒖𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏'"

Content : Han Jisung x f! Reader, angst, drinking/alcohol, vomiting mentions, unrequited love towards Han Jisung.

Requested by : @hanjisungfan560

୨୧ "[Name], stop thinking about him," Her friend sighed, putting her hand on [Name]'s shoulder. She sighed, peeling her eyes away from Han and the woman wrapped around his arms.

Behind the closed window, snow lightly pelted throughout the region, small puffs of white built up against each other. The street light illuminated small patterns on the sidewalk. Defining the texture the snow held. And there she was at some stupid party with a bunch of idiotic people.

"I'm not..." [Name] lied. Her friend, Lacy, raised a brow knowingly. "[Name]..." "Okay so maybe I was. So what? What irritates me is that Julie is all over him..." She scowled, running a hand through her hair.

Lacy sighed, putting a gently squeeze on her friends shoulder. "Look, I know you two were best friends and that you like Han, you have to let them go though," She mumbled. [Name] knew it was true, she couldn't just keep bottling up emotions.

"I will. " [Name] said through her teeth, taking a chug of the alcohol. The liquid from the cup washed her mouth with a bitter taste. It couldn't even nurture the feelings built inside her. "Fuck, I need another drink..." She groaned. Her feet led her towards where the alcohol was, whether it was classical beer to Korean soju, there was an assortment in the cooler, on the tables, anywhere a bottle could be displayed.

And her eyes peered back in the direction of her past best friend and the guy who displayed unrequited love. Yet neither were there. Callow was she in the way her feelings were organized by herself.

She poured herself another drink. Instantly taking another sip. "Woah, slow down, you might drink yourself dead, [Name]," a familiar voice chattered. Her eyes turned to meet the figure of Han...

"I think I can handle my alcohol..." Ironic the way her words were slurred. Han hummed through a smile. "Ah, I see. It's getting late though, aren't you going home soon?" He asked, looking at her.

"Yeah, so what?" She scoffed. "Let me walk you home," He offered. It was like Julie was out to get her the way she attached to Han so quickly.

[Name] felt sick, actually sick. She felt an acidic feeling, making itself known as it traveled up her throat. She covered her mouth with her palm before rushing over to the bathroom.

Han looked at her with what appeared like worry, following behind her. Julie let a scoff escape her lips as she was left behind, clenching her fist...

Han gently smoothed his hand on [Name]'s back as he held her hair back. Sickly vomiting into the toilet. "You drank too much, I'm taking you home." Han sighed.

"Whatever..." She croaked, seeming to sober up. "Fuck this is embarrassing..." She thought as he handed her a handkerchief. [Name] mumbled out a slight thanks at his action.

[Name] hated the feeling she was experiencing at that current moment. Confused. Sometimes he was complimenting her, calling her pretty, staring into her eyes as if she's the only one in the room, or talking to her like she's all that matters.

Then there would be times to which he ignored her going to that wicked Julie. With claims of love towards her. It all felt melancholy.

Yet here was Han Jisung, walking her up to her apartment. Supporting her as he walked with her up towards her floor. Soon enough they reached her room.

"Ah...I guess this is goodbye for today," Han chuckled. [Name] scoffed, it seemed she didn't completely sober up. He raised a brow to her reaction.

"Is something wrong?" He hummed. She nodded weakly, stumbling forward, tripping over her own feet to end up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, engulfing him in his warmth. She hated it, oh she despised it.

Outside her apartment door wrapped around the arms of the man who didn't love her back. And there he was leading her own.

A kiss planted against her forehead as he soothed her back. She choked back tears, burying her face deeper against his chest. Her hands gripping at his jacket.

"What's wrong?" Han questioned. "This. You're cruel, you know that? ...What does Julie have that I don't?" [Name]'s voice cracked with emotions. Her hands curled up desperately against the fabric of the jacket, keeping him warm. Yet he was the only thing to keep her warm.

"[Name], you know it's not like that." "Then what is it? Is she just some other woman like me that you keep leading on?" She choked out. "Fuck, you make me look so stupid! My best friend too? I look like an idiot liking you. Like thinking I have a chance." [Name] sobbed.

Hot tears escaped through the burrows of her eyes. Her eyes shone like the glossy snowflakes outside in the winter weather.

He stayed quiet, listening to her words or hopelessness. Guilt seeps through him like blood in his veins. All he can do is ruin it, still holding her in his arms and with his hand on her back.

Maybe desperation wasn't crying in his arms but instead allowing it to happen. Allowing her mental state to be trampled oh so carelessly. Allowing herself to torment so much just for a man who didn't like her back.

Note : Hope you enjoyed because I didn't

Isn't much angst just me yapping