#it is giving the fuck up and people need to understand that

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree

Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺

A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!

Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.” 

“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.” 

There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist. 

“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.” 

“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep. 

After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity. 

Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December. 

It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls. 

“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.” 

“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.” 

“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.” 

Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks. 

“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?” 

“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-” 

“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face. 

It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.  

“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern. 

“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion. 

“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.” 

You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind. 

For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.  

“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.” 

“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?” 

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip. 

“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.” 

“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him. 

“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.” 

Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on. 

Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response. 

“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.” 

It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough. 

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.” 

Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet. 

“Javi, we can go upstairs and-” 

“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.” 

Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family. 

“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.” 

“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.” 

Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters. 

“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin. 

It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him. 

Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one. 

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.  

Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him. 

Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand. 

“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs. 

“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him. 

You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours. 

“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded. 

“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame. 

If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him. 

“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.” 

You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest. 

“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way. 

Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths. 

“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.” 

You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you. 

“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!” 

It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath. 

“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high. 

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you. 

“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” 

“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest. 

“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.” 

“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns. 

“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.” 

“Oh my god, you are the worst.” 

The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents. 

“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw. 

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

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[rollerska8er]

i keep seeing this post appear on my feed and it annoys me every time i see it.

no, Boeing didn't have anyone killed. we're all just uncritically saying "Boeing had a guy killed" and not actually reading into it.

okay, sure, cops lie, but there is quite literally no evidence that John Barnett was murdered.

on the contrary, the available evidence (which would have been found and reported by, you know, medical examiners? people whose job it is to find out how someone died and aren't actually that easy to manipulate into making a murder look like a suicide) says that Barnett shot himself and it is unfeasible for him to have been shot by someone else, considering the trajectory of the wound.

nor does it even make sense for him to have been shot because, you know, that would actually raise suspicion and be an even bigger PR disaster than they're already dealing with? Boeing's board of directors are possibly that evil, but they aren't that stupid.

the other guy they "assassinated", Joshua Dean, died of pneumonia and a stroke brought on by flu and MRSA, which, forgive me, seems like a pretty fucking roundabout way to take someone out.

in the first instance, Boeing didn't need to have John Barnett killed. they harangued the guy and turned people against him to the point he got PTSD. he suffered a nervous breakdown as a result and shot himself from stress. the whole "if something happens, it's not suicide" thing? Yeah, sometimes people say stuff like that. In fact, doesn't that perhaps point to the fact the guy was thinking of killing himself and trying to convince himself not to?

in the second instance, the guy just got sick and died. it's not that unusual for that to happen, particularly if you are middle-aged and under incredible stress making your immune system less effective.

conspiracy theories are a type of false consciousness, even when they're nominally "left-wing". it's taking a cargo-cult approach to understanding, interpreting and critically examining the systems of violence and destruction that are wreaking havoc on the Earth.

there is no shadowy group of nefarious evildoers ordering the murders of whistleblowers, there is simply a large corporation leveraging its ability to put so much stress on people they either give up on trying to bring them to book, or, tragically, die.

there is no conspiracy. there is only capital.

Remember earlier this year when Boeing very clearly had a whistleblower executed? And law enforcement didn't even look for anyone or release any info about it or anything?

People keep comparing Luigi Mangione's case to the subway murderer who got off because of systemic eugenics, but I think there's something more apt about the fact that a CEO had someone executed in recent memory, with zero attempts to find a culprit, while they spared no expense at all to find (and probably frame, it's beginning to look like) someone who shot a CEO. It's always fine to slaughter if you're rich, but if you kill the rich, they will hunt you down.

[livebeforeyoulearn]

All of Me Is for All of You

Warnings: angst?? smut, 18+

Word count: 3.7k

Request (tweaked it slightly hope you don’t mind!)

-

Alexia and you are the perfect pair. Sure, there are arguments now and then, what couple doesn’t have those? But deep down, it feels like fate brought you together, like you were always meant to be. You met through mutual friends and clicked instantly, the kind of connection people dream about. Now, years later, your lives are so intertwined that it feels like you’ve become part of each other’s world in every possible way. You wouldn’t call it codependency, but sometimes it feels that way. When she’s away for games, the days stretch unbearably long. But when she’s home, when she’s in your arms, just there, everything feels right with the world. A glance, a touch, a shared silence is enough. You are hers as much as she is yours, and that kind of belonging is rare.

But there’s one shadow on your happiness; her ex, Jenni. It’s not the fact that they dated, that’s ancient history, water under the bridge. What gnaws at you is what Jenni did to Alexia. When Alexia finally told you the whole story of why they broke up, you couldn’t hold back your anger. You don’t just dislike Jenni – you want absolutely nothing to do with her, to keep her at arm’s length for eternity. Alexia, always the diplomat, tries to downplay it, brushing it off with a casual shrug. But you know better. You can see the flicker of pain in her eyes when she talks about it.

Even now, Alexia and Jenni are close. Too close, maybe. You remind yourself it’s not about jealousy. You trust Alexia, and you know they’ve been through so much together, things most people wouldn’t understand. Still, when you watched them during the World Cup, practically joined at the hip, something in your chest tightened. But Alexia explained it all to you. The federation’s mess fucked with them all, and they needed to come together, to be there for each other to survive it. You wanted to believe her, and for the most part, you did. After all, Alexia is your person, and you’re hers.

–

Your pinky links with Alexia’s as you walk through the restaurant doors. The noise of clinking glasses and overlapping conversations fills the air as she guides you through the crowded tables, weaving effortlessly until she spots her friends gathered at a large table near the back. Smiles and greetings are exchanged, hugs shared, and soon you’re settling into seats near the end of the table, side by side.

The evening starts off perfectly. The food is delicious, and the conversation flows effortlessly. You’ve always enjoyed being with Alexia’s friends, they feel like family, a circle you’re grateful to be part of. Laughter bounces around the table, stories are shared, and everything feels light and easy.

Then Patri, seated directly across from Alexia, changes the tone with a single question. “Alexia, did you hear from Jenni? Is she coming?”

“Yeah, she said she could make it,” Alexia replies with a small smile, taking a sip from her glass.

The words catch you off guard. Your mouth parts slightly as your eyes dart between the two women. “Coming to what?” you ask.

Alexia doesn’t look at you. Her expression remains carefully neutral, her eyes fixed on the table as she avoids your gaze. You glance at Patri, silently hoping for clarification. Unaware of the feelings building inside you, she answers, “The vacation! Jenni’s joining us for the trip.”

The revelation hits hard. You sit up straighter, pulling away from the relaxed posture you’d had moments ago. Alexia already knows she’s in trouble – you can see it in the expression on her face. And then it clicks; she’s known this for a while.

It isn’t Jenni’s presence that angers you most – you could have tolerated her, ignored her, and still managed to enjoy yourself. What hurts is that Alexia knew and chose not to tell you. She didn’t give you a chance to talk about it, to process it together. You could have reasoned with her, but she robbed you of that chance.

Alexia leans back in her chair, her fingers nervously toying with the rim of her glass as she waits for your reaction. When it doesn’t come right away, she slumps further, clearly anxious. She thought she could let this slide, brush it off as “not a big deal” and deal with it later. She was wrong.

Patri senses the mood changing. Though she doesn’t directly address the tension, she changes the subject and starts talking more in-depth with Alexia about Jenni’s travel plans. At first, you try to tune out the conversation, not wanting to let your irritation show in front of everyone. But Patri presses on, unknowingly unravelling the truth.

“When did Jenni confirm? I thought she wasn’t sure about her schedule,” Patri asks, leaning forwards.

Alexia hesitates, her response slower than usual. “She told me a while ago. She just wasn’t certain at first.”

A while ago. She’s known for weeks, maybe even months. Your mind starts to spiral. If she didn’t tell you about this, what else has she been keeping from you? Was she afraid of your reaction? Or worse, does she not trust you enough to have an honest conversation?

By the end of dinner, you’re barely holding it together. You mumble quick goodbyes, eager to escape the suffocating weight of your thoughts. Alexia follows you out of the restaurant, her steps hesitant, her silence heavy.

The walk to the car feels longer than it is. When you climb inside, you buckle your seatbelt, cross your arms, and stare out the window, avoiding her entirely. Alexia slides into the driver’s seat, closing the door softly. She buckles herself in but doesn’t start the car right away.

“Please, don’t be like that,” she says finally, her voice almost pleading as she rubs her temples.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter, shaking your head as she starts the car and backs out of the parking space.

“I wasn’t hiding it. I was going to tell you,” she says firmly, though her tone is careful, her eyes flicking towards you nervously.

“Oh, sure. When? When we’re boarding the plane? Or maybe when she’s already sitting next to you on the beach?”

“You’re being so dramatic. It’s not a big deal. We’re just friends,” she says, her voice rising slightly.

“Dramatic?” you snap, turning to face her. “You deliberately didn’t tell me something you knew would upset me!”

“Why are you making this such a big deal?” she counters, her frustration evident as she glances at you.

“Because it is a big deal! But, of course, my feelings don’t matter, right? As long as you and Jenni are happy,” you reply bitterly. You clench your jaw, your gaze returning to the window.

“That’s not fair,” she says sharply, her tone demanding as though her words alone should convince you to drop it.

“What’s not fair is you keeping things from me!” you fire back. “You knew how I’d feel, and you still didn’t say a thing. Not one word!”

“Because I knew you’d overreact like this!” she snaps, her grip tightening on the steering wheel.

You scoff, choosing to ignore whatever else she has to say. The fact that she chose to hide this from you is a betrayal you can’t quite shake. You’re partners, communication should be the cornerstone of your relationship, the one thing you could always count on. You thought she trusted you enough to talk about things like this, to be open and honest no matter the circumstances. The anger that first surged through you has ebbed now, leaving behind a more painful ache. It’s not just the omission that hurts; it’s the way it feels like she didn’t think you could handle the truth. 

When you arrive home, you unbuckle yourself quickly and, in a petty flourish, slam the car door shut. You know how much it annoys Alexia, that’s precisely why you do it. After the night you’ve had, she deserves to feel a sliver of the irritation that’s inside you.

“Don’t slam my door,” she calls after you, her voice clipped. You ignore her, heading straight for the elevator. The doors nearly close on her, but she slides her hand between them just in time, glaring as she steps in beside you. “This is ridiculous,” she mutters under her breath.

“What’s ridiculous is me finding out about your secret vacation plans. At dinner. With your friends!” Incredulity laces your voice.

“It wasn’t a secret. I told you–”

“Nothing! You told me nothing, Alexia,” you cut her off. 

“Because I didn’t want to deal with this exact situation!” she counters, her tone rising, her words bouncing off the elevator walls.

The elevator pings open, and you step out, “Well, congrats. Now you’re dealing with it. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

Alexia, helplessly trailing behind you, starts rambling, her voice rising with excuses you have no patience for. You ignore her completely, the words flowing out of her like nonsense that you can’t be bothered to absorb. As you dig through your pockets for the keys, you can feel your frustration heightening with each passing second. It's a perfect, almost satisfying moment when you finally find them and stand in front of your door.

Once it swings open, you make a beeline for the kitchen, the need for a glass of wine urgent. Alexia follows you, naturally. As much as you love her and her presence, right now, all you want is some space. But you know her too well. She won’t give you that, not until this is somehow resolved.

You grab the wine bottle and twist it open, holding the glass in your other hand, your fingers lightly cupping its base. As you tilt the bottle, the deep red liquid pours smoothly into the glass, filling it just enough to satisfy your need. The bottle returns to its place, and you bring the glass to your lips, taking a deep breath before you sip.

Behind you, Alexia exhales audibly. You turn, shooting her a glare, your patience already thin. She inches closer, the gears turning in her head as she processes your silence. Her eyes narrow before that damn smirk slowly spreads across her face.

Does she think this is funny?

You lower your glass slightly as she steps closer, but when her hand reaches for it, you pull it out of her grasp and take another sip, just to spite her. Her smirk widens at your defiance, her dark eyes sparkling with something teasing. 

“Are you… jealous?” she asks, her voice lilting with amusement.

“Jealous?” you repeat, incredulous. The idea offends you. How could she think this was jealousy? All you wanted was respect and trust from your girlfriend. “What the fuck? No. Why would I be jealous of Jenni?” 

Her voice raises again, her smirk disappearing, “If you’re not jealous, then why are you so mad about her coming? You blow everything out of proportion. Every single time.”

“Because when you’re around her, it’s like I don’t exist. All you care about is Jenni, Jenni, Jenni, and did you forget what she did to you?” The words come out before you can stop them.

Her hands find your hips, the heat of her touch seeping through your clothes and silencing your words. Your mind stumbles, the argument dimming as your cheeks burn under her gaze.

“You are jealous,” she murmurs, her voice steady as her thumbs brush over your sides, ignoring the question.

“No, I’m not,” you protest, but your voice falters, betraying your doubt. A nervous gulp follows, and she hums, the vibration visible in her throat as she leans closer.

Alexia knows you, maybe even better than you know yourself. What if she’s right? What if this ache in your chest isn’t just hurt or betrayal but jealousy you’ve been too stubborn to acknowledge?

“I’m yours. You’re mine. That’s all I want in life,” she says softly, her voice breaking through your spiralling thoughts. One hand reaches for the glass, and this time, you let her take it, watching as she places it on the counter behind you. Her gaze locks with yours again. “There’s no need to be jealous. She’s nothing compared to you.”

Your heart beats in your chest like a moth under a dome of glass. The way she looks at you is intoxicating and you can’t find the will to look away.

“So show me,” you whisper, your voice is barely audible. Her face hovers close enough for you to feel the warmth of her breath against your cheek.

She isn’t gentle when she leans in to kiss you; her lips latch onto yours with fervent intensity. She’s hot and she’s messy. Her urgency shows with the way her hands roam over your body with a sense of desperation, as if she’s discovering you for the first time and cherishing you like it’s the last.

Her fingers grope at your chest before sliding over your shoulders and down your back, settling on your ass, where she gives a firm squeeze. Then, without hesitation, she lifts you. You instinctively jump, wrapping your legs tightly around her waist and your arms around her shoulders, one hand cupping the back of her head to keep her impossibly close.

She carries you blindly towards the bedroom, her movements hurried as if every second counts. Your mouths remain fused, the connection deepening as her tongue slips past your lips, licking into your mouth with an eagerness that takes your breath away. You gasp softly in surprise, parting your lips further to make it easier for her.

When you reach the bedroom, she throws you onto the bed roughly, her chest heaving as she steps back to take you in. Her eyes, dark with lust, rake over you while her tongue slides along her bottom lip. She looks at you as if she’s cataloging every possibility, silently deciding how to make you feel everything – loved, wanted, needed, hers.

“Get undressed,” she commands, her tone brooking no argument.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you quickly comply, unsure of what might happen if you didn’t. As the last piece of clothing falls away, you recline on the bed, your eyes never leaving her as she moves to the drawer where you keep your things.

She strips off her remaining clothes, the sight leaving you breathless.  When she steps into the harness, pulling it up over her toned legs and adjusting it around her waist, your mouth goes dry. Each second of her not touching you feels torturous, your craving for her becoming unbearable.

She starts making her way back to you, your eyes drawn to her toned torso and the perfect curve of her breasts.

Instinctively, you press your thighs together, the ache between them becoming too much to ignore. As she crawls onto the bed, you lift your knees slightly, seeking some kind of relief. But she’s quick to act, placing her palms firmly on your knees and forcing them apart. The sudden motion has you gasping, though the sound is swallowed as her lips crash against yours.

The kiss is intense and demanding. It’s all teeth and tongues colliding, lips biting, and breaths mingling in a heated clash for dominance. Your head sinks deeper into the pillow as her hands trail up your thighs, her fingertips gathering the evidence of your desire and spreading it deliberately along the tops of your thighs. Her lips curl into a smirk against yours, her confidence radiating as she revels in how easily she can unravel you.

She pulls back slightly, her teeth catching your bottom lip and releasing it with a snap. Before you can catch your breath, she finds a heartbeat to put her lips to in the crook of your neck. Your head tilts back, granting her access, and a needy whimper escapes your throat. 

A finger slides through your core, teasing your entrance before gliding upwards to begin harsh, tight circles on your clit. You moan, her name escaping your lips like a whispered mantra, repeated again and again in the air.

Your hips start to buck in response, but the sensation isn’t enough, you need more, all of her. “Ale, please,” you gasp. She grunts against your neck, nipping at the bruised, sensitive skin before lifting herself slightly, leaving a sting in her wake. She runs the toy through your slickness, coating it before pressing the tip teasingly against you.

“What do you want?” she asks, a smirk tugging at her lips as her eyes meet yours. The control she wields over you is absolute.

“You,” you breathe.

She bites her lip, tilting her head slightly.

“I need you inside me,” you plead, knowing it’s exactly what she wants to hear. “Please, Alexia.”

Her smirk widens, dripping with pride, before she pushes the tip inside. The stretch is intense, your body adjusting quickly as she didn’t take the time to prep you with her fingers. Her thrusts begin slow but quickly build in rhythm, and before long, the entire length fills you with every movement, driving deeper each time.

Alexia’s hands move to your breasts, squeezing them firmly as her gaze stays locked on your face, watching you arch into her touch. Your head falls back, your eyes shut tight, your body radiating pure bliss.

She grunts with each thrust, her hips snapping against yours in a perfectly timed rhythm. You match her movements, rolling your hips to meet her, the sensation intensifying with each stroke. That familiar tightening in your stomach grows stronger, signalling your impending release.

Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, she stops. You let out a breathless whine, eyes flying open to meet her steady gaze. Slowly, she pulls out and settles beside you. 

“Get on top,” she orders.

“What?” you stammer, momentarily confused, until she takes your arm and helps you up. Your legs tremble as you straddle her hips. Her hands steady you as you position yourself, the toy poised at your entrance, before you lower yourself down.

“Ride me like I’m yours.” 

The words alone almost draw a moan from you. Her hands glide over your thighs, squeezing lightly, before moving up and around to your ass. She grabs hold, helping lift and guide you as you begin to bounce along her length. Your own hands find purchase on her thighs behind you, bracing yourself as your hips set a heady rhythm.

Her expression is intoxicating, a sight you want permanently etched into your memory. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, her lips swollen and kiss-bitten, her head tilting slightly as if she’s losing herself in the connection between your bodies. A moan builds in her throat, but she traps it behind her teeth, biting her lip as she tightens her hold on you and urges your movements faster.

“Fuck, Ale, oh my god,” you gasp, leaning forwards and pressing your palms against her abs for balance. Your nails dig into the defined ridges of her muscles as she begins to meet your pace, her hips rolling into you. 

At first, the pace remains controlled, giving you time to adjust to the sensation of being on top. But soon, her hands find your waist, her grip firm enough to promise marks tomorrow. Then she takes over completely, thrusting into you with an intensity that makes you cry out.

Her movements become relentless – harder, faster, deeper than you thought possible. It’s primal, raw, and consuming, her strength evident in every powerful thrust as her legs and core drive her into you.

“Don’t stop,” you manage to moan, your voice catching in your throat. “Please, don’t stop, Ale.” Your head tilts back, eyes squeezing shut as the familiar tension builds in your lower stomach, the knot tightening with every thrust. Your back arches prettily, drawing Alexia’s gaze to your chest. She aches to lean up and take your nipples into her mouth but instead drinks in the sight of you, undone and lost in her touch.

“You close, mi amor?” she rasps, lost in desire.

“Yes, Ale, so close,” you whimper, your moans growing louder, more desperate, a sound that defies words.

“You wanna come?” she asks, her tone teasingly questioning. You hum in reply, nodding weakly. “Go ahead, amor,” she murmurs, her voice softening unexpectedly, catching you off guard.

Your fingers curl, nails digging into her skin and leaving crescent-shaped imprints as you cry out her name, your voice breathless and broken as wave after wave crashes over you. She holds you down firmly, not letting you move as she keeps rolling her hips, guiding you through the peak.

It’s powerful, stealing every coherent thought, leaving you lost in ecstasy for what feels like an eternity before it begins to ebb and you regain awareness of your body.

Her knees provide support against your back, her thumbs tracing soothing patterns on your skin. She sits up, brushing strands of hair away from your face before burying her head in your neck. Her lips trail tender kisses along your skin, your collarbone, shoulder, jawline, and just beneath your ear, before finally returning to your lips.

Your breaths come heavy, but your arms instinctively wrap around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“I love you, and only you, mi amor. All of me is for all of you,” she whispers against your lips.

You lean in to kiss her again, then she rolls you onto your back, positioning herself once more between your legs. 

[trappedinafantasy37]

I went to a very old save of mine in which I knocked out Minthara in Act 1 and I talked to her again in the throne room. If you knocked her out, this is how she looks at you when she questions you:

She seems genuinely disturbed over your actions. Can you blame her? You were the one who knocked her out. You brought her harm for reasons that she cannot understand. She can understand someone killing her as that is what she expects of those around her. She will criticize your choice of sparing an enemy and showing mercy to someone you have greater reason to kill. Even though she has doubts about you, she shuts herself down, thinking she should be more grateful rather than doubtful of you.

You can tell her that you saw her as a potential ally, but she will call you a hypocrite as Gut and Ragzlin were not shown the same mercy, nor was any other True Soul.

You can even tell her, "You were simply too stubborn to die" as a means of trying to take any culpability off yourself. To try to turn the situation into a little jokey joke. However,

Minthara does not take it as a compliment and she knows you are full of shit. Even though you took the "good" path, she does not trust you.

Minthara understands mercy and even she believes some people are deserving of it. Sadly, she does not see herself as one of those people and is disturbed as to why you gave her mercy. There is no answer you can give her here that will make her trust you. She knows you went out of your way to spare her and only her, and that frightens her.

Remember, this is not the first time in which Minthara's entire army was killed right from underneath her and she was deliberately left as the sole survivor. Orin slaughtered all of her men in a blink of an eye, and Orin's "mercy" only brought her pain and torture. Later down the road, Minthara criticizes herself for not paying more attention to Orin when she first arrived at Moonrise. And so she is giving you a lot of attention, she is watching you, studying you, because she fears that you are going to hurt her the moment she takes her eye off you. Because you already have. Your "mercy" gave her a concussion, your deception had her found guilty of incompetence, and she was then subjected to even more torture by the Absolute in which she was given permanent brain damage. She is afraid that the only reason that you spared her, is because you want to torture her. Even when you show up in Moonrise and enter into her mind prison, she is expecting you to kill her and begs you do it quickly. She is not expecting mercy from you, only death. She is only in that predicament because of you. Why would she think for a single second that your mercy comes from a place of good intentions?

She knows fully well that she owes her life to you and that her life is entirely at your mercy, one you can revoke at any time. She doesn't trust you, she doesn't trust the rest of the companions, but she cannot leave nor walk away. There is no good way out of this for her and she's afraid of the cycle repeating. She is not going to make the same mistake again. Instead of her oath to you being from a place of affection, her oath to you comes from a place of fear.

[genderqueerdykes]

Thanks for being pro endo. I think I might be traumagenic but I do NOT feel safe in anti-endo spaces because they are constantly looking for "proof" that you are a faker. It makes me on edge in so-called "safe spaces."

Also, I really don't like to disclose to just anyone that I have trauma. It's nobody's business what happened to me when I was a child.

you should NEVER have to disclose your trauma- that leaves you vulnerable for people leveraging that knowledge against you and being re-traumatized or encountering new trauma. that is dangerous and honestly, i am raising my eyebrow at every single person who demands someone divulge their trauma and triggers. why exactly do you need that information? it's sketchy. it's going to be used as ammunition. it has nothing to do with "proving" that ur plural, this is clearly someone who wants to collect this information so they can knowingly use it against you and abuse you.

like, it's extremely obvious. it's not about "proving" that you're traumatized. it's about having blackmail against you. you're on the right track here, this goes to EVERYONE: DO NOT DETAIL YOUR TRAUMA AND TRIGGERS TO INTERNET STRANGERS. DON'T EVEN DO IT FOR YOUR FRIENDS. THIS LEAVES YOU EXTREMELY VULNERABLE.

it sucks. i'm sorry that you've had to deal with this. i barely interact with online plural communities anymore because the fighting is literally so fucking pointless. we're not having conversations about plurality anymore. people like this don't give a singular fuck about the plural experience and sharing how diverse plurality is. all they care about is controlling other people. if you come across people like anon detailed in plural spaces: they do not give a singular shit about spreading correct information on plurality and literally just want to control people.

take care of yourself, try to stay safe out there as best as you can. there are good plurals out there who get you. it's just a very vocal minority who decide that they get to use their 5 minutes of research into dissociative plurality against people who have real world experiences. like the vast majority of the time the people who do this don't actually know shit about dissociative plurality itself, let alone. i'll have people try to offer me "sources" on the matter, but i know that they haven't done research outside of being able to pull up a few papers to look smug and smart. it's old. it's hurting people. all this is accomplishing is hurting people. it's not about helping people understand dissociative plurality. it's about controlling and hurting people on purpose.

[derww]

for @heartcircus.

its not like zam actually tries to talk: he stands, carefully holding his notes, just staring at spawn, noticing one familiar face after another, feeling like all thoughts in his head became too heavy, and then just. turns around. and leaves.

you know, all of the princezam nature is to oppose, is to fight. but the last seasons taught him about just how important it is to appreciate people around, to do not only for yourself but for them too. and just today he promised to not interfere with mapicc's plans.

he can't fight, but he can't support. so he leaves. first time in many days, he has no words to say anymore.

all of it is just too familiar, and memories of the past cloud his mind and make every part of his body weak and stale. story repeats itself, and hed hate to see it continue and weave hemself into it, so he does not. i need some time to be alone, he says to derapchu and goes almost to the border – to sunny hill, surrounded by snow-capped mountains.

this time something in it reminds him too heavy. he doesn't build a castle. instead, he builds a hut.

it's not so bad, he says to himself, laying firewood in the stove, it's not season 4 anymore, noone will backdoor the server and mapicc will stop. sooner or later. i cant fight him, but i dont have to. everything will end. and then ill go back.

he feels so fucking tired. only now he understands just how tired he is. so he lies down. and sleeps. and sleeps. and sleeps.

it never gets better; the tombstone of exhaustion only presses him down harder and harder. he sleeps and sees dreams. he cooks himself food and eats it, feeling no taste. he plants flowers and takes care of them. sometimes he talks to derapchu. he never tells where he is.

only in so slow time he suddenly understands just how misplaced he is. he's patch on patch, stitched over and over again with scraps of fabric, no matter how worn or unsuitable they may be, over and over and over, stitched with scars running through his spine. he is a trace of something forgotten, overlaid by images of other people and experiences, accustomed to it so much that it feels like himself. he sleeps and sees no nightmares. maybe it's for the worse.

so far from anyone, without any real goal, Immersed deep into himself, he easily starts missing hours, days, and weeks. time doesn't feel real, and he, at the end, too. people write him. sometimes he answers. he never agrees to meet.

i'll go back when the mawn thing will be over; he promises to derap but hardly believes in it himself. something makes him feel like he has nothing to come back to. this house is also not his home, but it's at least silent here.

derap persists, but in the end he gives up too. and, in the end, he is left alone. he grows dandelions in the field around. when an unfamiliar flower appears in the field, he does not prevent it from growing nearby.

he blinks and feels like he missed a whole week. sometimes he just lies there and doesn't move. he doesn't feel the softness of the pillow, the springy floor under his feet, and, after all, he doesn't feel pain either. a ringing void freezes in his head. he feels tired, but sleep doesn't help.

he missed a moment something changes.

something about how the world exists around him. something about how forest smells like. something about how the grass is rustling under his feet. something is wrong, but he barely makes himself care. it doesn't matter, not really, but time still slows down. he slowly dips his hands into the loose earth, feeling the coolness and texture. nothing here belongs to him, but that's not the point. he plants some poppy seeds. one of them ends up in a pot on his windowsill.

i'm fully okay, he says to derap while not being able to remember what he ate today, i'm just in retirement for now. i will go back to you, i promise. i just need some time.

the boards under his feet creak differently. sometimes something whistles, like an unfamiliar bird. sometimes it seems to him that the grass next to the house is crushed.

isn't this a true peaceful life, he asks himself. to run away from everything and be alone. in the end, there is no way to harm anyone if you are alone. he feels like he was running a marathon all this time and only now stopped.

he adds blue orchids, but their blue is drowning in the red. he takes the smallest orchid inside and turns it into a magnificent flower. In a moment of weakness, he takes the cornflower inside. the next one turns out to be an orange tulip. he doesn't comprehend it.

is it what i wanted in season four, he asks himself. this place strangely reminds him of it. he reminds himself of it, too, allowing himself to feel anything. he still can't decide if it's a good thing. 

the rain is pounding on his window. someone is knocking on his coffin lid. poppies fill the whole field.

i miss them, he writes on a paper. but i can't go back yet. not while spawn is someone's. not while i have to fight my best friend.

when he comes back from the forest, his house still keeps warmth. his footsteps are echoing, and his diary is open by the wind. i miss being able to decide, this page says. i was good at it once.

he doesn't feel sick. he feels dump. the green in his cape is starting to fade.

sometimes it seems to me that i won't be able to overcome this, he writes. but I know i can handle it. i always can. i will overcome anything. i just can't give up.

the forest smells of pine and fir, and it has not been lost in the trees for a long time, wandering far beyond the edge. the forest always brings him back when he wants to. it never holds him by force and generously supplies him with tree cones and wet moss. he always comes back because he has nowhere to go.

this time, when he comes home, he has a visitor. he is not surprised: he calls them by name, nods, makes tea from fir needles.

mapicc rests his head on his elbows.

– lets go home, – he says. zam shakes his head.

– to mawn? – he asks.

mapicc squints.

– yes.

– i won't.

– why.

zam looks at him almost regretfully.

– because i refuse to fight you, – he answers simply, – and i will have no choice but to.

– even fighting me is much better than- than whatever this is, – mapicc remarks irritably.

– i don't want to fight you ever again, – zam signs, – i know you like me as your enemy. i do not.

– you don't have to fight me. join me.

– i hate everything you've created, – he answers with pity, – and i can't change it. please, leave me alone. do whatever you want to do. and one day i'll be able to go back.

– i dont understand why you oppose it so much. you haven't even given it a try. is it, like, that bad? people love it; you can love it too.

zam shakes his head.

– did you really come to convince me to love what I hate?

– i came to invite you to my thing.

– not this time.

in the end, mapicc still leaves. only after that zam takes his floor apart to find a secret passage under the boards. it leads to a dug-out underground room filled with anything. there are books everywhere. an unmade bed. and a pot with a dandelion in the middle of the makeshift countertop.

mapiccs room, says the sign. he adds a glow ink to it and looks around again.

for an infinitely long moment he considers just starting to live here.

[avelera]

hi! first off, i love your arcane meta, especially the jayce characterization and hextech details. you get it.

now second, (and feel free to ignore this wall of text for any reason):

if you're in the mood to talk about meta, i'm curious to hear your take on one season 2 thing that i've been scratching my head about

how much does post-anomaly jayce know about the future? my initial impression was that wizard viktor only told jayce what we see onscreen, and jayce was kind of improvising and trying his best without detailed knowledge of future events.

but some lines ("we're meant to lose this fight") and a comment from the artbook (post-anomaly jayce wearing armor bc he knows there is a battle coming) imply that he knows more than he lets on.

what's your (watsonian) take of jayce's knowledge of the future in season 2? is there any detail in the show that sheds some light on this?

i think jayce knowing or not knowing about certain events really recontextualises some scenes. is he following his own or wizard viktors plans? is he suprised about the events of act 3? i've been rotating this in my head but i'm not sure what interpretation i prefer.

Thank you so much!

As for your question, it's a really interesting one!

Unfortunately, I do think I need to start the answer with the Doylist one:

Jayce knows as much about the future as he needs to for the plot.

I think this is important to note because it informs an understanding of their choice not to show us him getting an exposition download of everything Wizard Viktor has worked out over the years as to how exactly Jayce can thread this needle of saving Viktor at exactly the right time.

Because, in theory, the amount of optimization could be infinite. It could get all the way down to, "Jayce needs to be scared into falling into this exact pit and spending no more than 3 months there because that gives him the suffering needed for his plea to Viktor to be heartfelt and informed by similar suffering, but not so long that Jayce goes insane from isolation."

Or even things like, "Ekko needs to go to the Happy Zaun universe or else he won't have the sympathy needed for him to prevent Jinx's suicide and without her present at the battle, one of Herald Viktor's mind-control arms snatches up Ekko too soon rather than grabbing Jinx instead, so he's not there to buy Jayce's those critical extra seconds for his appeal to True Love and also put a bomb in Herald Viktor's face."

That said....

I admit, part of me still sort of wishes that Jayce had been the one to go through multiple realities of optimizing, just because I think it answers... a few more questions? Like how did he suddenly get so comfortable with killing someone like Salo, if he wasn't fighting in other universes? Why does he look so aged if only 3-6 months passed? How does he know things like how exactly to get to Viktor's commune and the fact they're going to lose the fight, etc etc etc.?"

I think it would have been cool and very fitting for Jayce but I will admit, the story we got covers all of this too.

Jayce's aging could easily be the product of extreme hardship (I wouldn't be surprised if the animators referred to images of people who have been, say, stranded on desert islands or prisoners of war for long periods to inform just how much Jayce's face muscles wasted away while he was there and just how much extreme hardship can age you because it can be extreme even within a few months and between pain, starvation, dehydration, and magical gangrene, Jayce was going through it).

Jayce's comfort with the idea of killing Salo could just be a product of his hardship (killing and eating lizards with his bare hands lol yuck), or of understanding that assimilated people are already dead, effectively, and to stop that future he cannot hesitate at all. Also, maybe he just fucking hates that guy, which would be pretty understandable after Salo voted to banish him back in 1.02 and also is very funny to me, personally, that he was just a little more comfortable smooshing that particular Councilor than he would be literally anyone else.

And this is were I get to your question: how much does Jayce know? Presumably, if we go Watsonian, whatever Wizard Viktor believed he needed to know to actually thread this needle, because there's probably information he doesn't need to know too.

For example, Jayce might know:

He cannot let a Cultist get back to Viktor with Hexgems. Salo needs to go. Who knows what this prevented but I can easily see how Viktor having more power right now to prolong his healing/assimilation would be a bad thing regardless. Also just... having Salo at all as a potential power player that Viktor could work through.

He knows where the commune is. In theory, he probably could just ask someone in Zaun too I mean, I doubt it's a secret, and narratively we don't need to see that.

He knows he cannot under any circumstances let Viktor talk to him once they're face to face. He can't even look at Viktor after Viktor knows he's there. There's a heavy implication that if Cult Leader Viktor so much as smiles at him, Jayce will fold, if we believe the little flash of memory of Jayce remembering him smiling at him isn't just Dead Wive Vision but is actually Anomaly Future Jayce warning him about what happened to him to lead t that point, which I think is a baller theory.

He can't give into Viktor, ever. He can't let Viktor touch his forehead before the right time. Jayce fights like mad to get away from that robot once Viktor decides that Jayce will be his partner again or else.

He knows he needs to take all the Hexgems out of the base of the Hexgate, but is it to stop Viktor? Or is to buy a few extra seconds while Viktor plugs them back in again so that Ekko has time to wake up? This is the sort of thing where Wizard Viktor might know the real reason for something but doesn't need to get that granular with why because it's about buying time, not actually preventing the Herald from grabbing the Anomaly.

By the way, I have a theory that one reason Jayce needs to get the gem burned into his wrist is because there's universes where his bracelet gets cut off and he loses the gem so Wizard Viktor is like, "This is gonna suck, but you really need this thing embedded in your flesh so it's there at the right time." Though, it could also be so he can engage the magic in his Alt Universe hammer. Still, I am a little sad that it's not an effect of Jayce universe hopping where some battle got it burned into him, because that was my original theory and I'm still very partial to it.

Jayce knows that he has no chance of winning the fight, he just needs to survive it. Once he gets to the top of the tower, once he grasps the hammer, it's all over. From that point on, the only thing he can do is have faith and get his big Power of Love speech ready, that is his only chance.

As for what Jayce is surprised by, I do think he might have been told information but not shown it necessarily. I am still really sad we didn't get a visual of what Wizard Viktor told him but, at the same time, one of the fun parts of Arcane is that it doesn't spoon-feed us, which gives us the chance for discussions like this, so wanting that scene is me being a Jayce addict not because I think it would necessarily strengthen the story.

So I think Jayce doesn't know what Machine Herald Viktor looks like. It's possible that Wizard Viktor doesn't either, because that didn't happen to Wizard Viktor, he didn't get slowed down at the commune, Jayce probably joined him there and probably didn't fight him at all, there's a strong hint that Anomaly Universe Jayce surrendered to Viktor at the top of the tower (the explosion marks around him are behind him, which implies that the force of his conversion might have been in front and willing, like he was kneeling before his king, and we don't have the top of his head to know which direction the fingerprints are positioned in).

So basically, Machine Herald Viktor is a product of Viktor needing Singed to regain enough power to go get the Anomaly, which Wizard Viktor didn't need to do.

It's possible that Wizard Viktor doesn't know about Ekko, he just knows that something outside his awareness has to happen for MH Viktor to be caught off guard, and as MH Viktor says, "That device cannot be," he cannot in his infinite knowledge account for what happens in a world where Hextech never got beyond its infancy with Jayce and Viktor at the helm.

So, at a certain point, there may have been things that Jayce and Wizard Viktor just had to rely on faith to come about too.

But it's way more fun to speculate because I think we'd be punching holes in it instead of speculating on it if we had been given this whole download.

Hope that answers your question??

[angelshizuka]

People on this site will be like Stolas is terrible because and then list his deliberate character flaws, like he broke his promise to his daughter, I know it’d almost like story’s have conflicts and this one was set up in season one or something. The full moon deal was really toxic and problematic, I know it’s almost like that’s why he ended it and was really focused on making sure Blitz would only stay if he wanted to. Stolas’ classism hasn’t been addressed so the show is ignoring it, it’s almost like he lost everything and is going to have to live with all lower class demons and is maybe being set up to learn what it’s like or something.

Louder for the people in the back!

These haters keep proving over and over again they don't understand what a character arc is or how characters are meant to be flawed, because it's almost like that's how storytelling works.

Like, peaceful wholesome shows where characters easily get along and get over their hurdles can be fun, I'm also often in the mood for those, but that's so obviously not the kinda show HB is, so people need to stop judging it like that.

These haters could never make me hate Stolas, because their arguments are literally WHY I love Stolas. Like yes, give me a fucked up flawed character who unintentionally keeps shooting himself in the foot before learning to better himself and how to improve his life and relationships!

[somewhereincairparavel]

Hey, thanks for replying to my previous ask! and don't worry about the time it took to reply, I understand needing to recharge in order to give your 100% on a reply.

Now about that villain Jason you were speaking of... do share your thoughts if you don't mind :)

i responded like. 10 days late I'm sorry I had so much to do and i didn't get the time to write such a long post- I'm scared if I lost my momentum on my essay writing skills but let's see if I did good on this one.

I have thoughts about this man especially villian jason, so let me begin. i know luke was considered as “what percy would've become if he did the wrong thing” but hear me out. jason being the one ‘hero’ demigod to succumb to his bitterness and didn't just solely exist in the series to be a villian, but a hero changed villian.

luke kinda existed in pjo to be an antagonist, but it would be great if a main hero character slowly descended to madness and I don't just mean going around killing people. no. not that kind of villian. because that defeats the purpose of jason's character.

I mean villian in the sense of a drastic change in his personality where he brings obstacles to the seven's missions emotionally or physically because of his trauma, and that's where dark! jason comes in.

after he regains his memories after he experienced the warmth of chb, he's pissed at how badly he was treated all these years in camp jupiter. he comes to a REALISATION that he was used.

people don't take jason seriously and say that he suffered the ‘least’ because he doesn't ever acknowledge his trauma. Not even to himself. of course the argument ‘he was raised this way, to supress himself!’ would be the explanation, but that doesn't even make sense, considering how much it's emphasized that jason ‘changed’ after his experience in camp half blood.

give me a jason who maintains his roman ethic but simultaneously inherits the greek demigod qualities, like self realisation, calling people out for the bad treatment, anger towards the gods, or just expressing himself in general. the argument of ‘he was raised this way, to supress himself! that's why he's so submissive’ makes me angry

give me a jason who's jealous of how quickly percy was accepted into camp jupiter, in contrast to how everyone in camp half blood couldn't stop talking about percy and never gave up on him. camp half blood was friendly to jason, but in a ‘yeah he's cool ig’ kinda way in comparison to camp jupiter's ‘HES OUR HERO, BOW DOWN TO HIM’ kinda dramatics for percy.

give me a jason who is disappointed at the lack of warm welcome he got when he returned, when he was clearly expecting more from them (does that make him look entitled? for wanting repayment for his service and kindness all these years? maybe. but that's the point he really needed to be an asshole sometimes and he's fucking right.)

give me a jason who takes some of the bitterness he has against his mom out on thalia, for not looking for him (yes it's not even remotely her fault for getting manipulated by her mom by thinking jason is dead, but see the parallels here? camp jupiter and thalia both got gaslit into thinking that jason is dead, that jason sees the correlation and it gives him ptsd) jason is jealous and bitter that luke and annabeth ‘replaced’ him as thalia's family. jason is jealous that thalia said ‘i have to look for percy’

give me a jason who's jealous of percy having such a huge support system like basically the whole of camp half blood, annabeth, grover sally and paul. and is salty that he had an alcoholic mother who wanted him dead.

give me a jason who feels distant from everyone, because in a way, he always was. he just didn't show it. his friendship with reyna failed, he was ‘rivals’ with percy, they became friends bit not best friends, annabeth was wary of him, piper dumped him, frank saw him as a historical leader, and hazel who once admired him, didn't really like him till the very end bc of the nico thing.

give me a jason who's cold to reyna after they reunite because he was angry that he was so quickly replaced, upset that reyna avoided him ever since the venus incident because he didn't understand why.

give me a jason who inherits his mother's worst traits despite that being his biggest fear. it would parallel very well, his mom descended to insanity because zeus abandoned her, give me jason who also descends similarly because he was abandoned by her. full circle.

jason's interaction with beryl should've been way more emotional and compelling rather than the 2 second bit we got tbh, most people don't even remember that scene, that tells you how short it was.

give me a jason who momentarily makes the room full of giants and monsters suffocate by harshly sucking the air without even realising it, because the sight of his mother made him so fucking angry and agressive, it triggers his PTSD and makes his mind THROB (but piper and annabeth are safe from that because they were the ones who anchored him to reality, regardless, they get terrified of how mad he got)

jason who actually remembers his childhood trauma VIVIDLY and reflects on it instead of brushing it off, please. people also, for some reason are more sympathetic to antagonists with tragic backstories? like luke? like they pity them over the morally good characters? idk but it tends be a tendency in most fandoms. I saw so many pinterest posts comparing luke's actions to jason's? like I'm sorry luke is a good character but NOT comparable to jason (who's a morally good ‘hero’ character) they're not even on the same level of moral goodness. but yeah, maybe jason would've gained more empathy from the fans if he were an antagonist, like luke is receiving.

[princess-charlie-of-hell]

but in the canon alastor said he thinks of charlie like a daughter.

Lol.

We all know he was just fucking with Lucifer

Isn't charlie older than him?

Before hells greatest dad / if hell's greatest dad didn't exist are you trying to tell me that we're supposed to see them as father and daughter?? Like those interactions weren't undertones of romance??

But Alastor is aroace and Charlie's with vaggie

did we all forget the meaning of fanfiction overtime? Fanfiction was supposed to be a place where no one gives a fuck about the canon and just write out their imagination. Nothing I do in a 1k word fic about charlastor is gonna make it canon nor take away the characters canon sexualities in the show so let me fucking enjoy it in peace.

Also I find it funny that people always scream about how charlie is a toxic partner to vaggie but when you ship her with anyone else they suddenly remember she's in a happy relationship. Make up your minds lol

True! I still don't understand how people think that Alastor was serious as he said it and canonically thinks of Charlie as his daughter. Especially if "hell greatest dad" and "dad beats dad" are really the only cases where Alastor acts slightly like her father and even then it was obviously just to annoy Lucifer

He is not even looking at Charlie when he said that, he did it because knew that it was the easiest way to piss of Lucifer. People act like it is unimaginable that Alastor, a power hungry and manipulative Overlord, is simple lying for his advantage🤯

Image Lucifer would act like Alastor towards Charlie, people would complain how gross it is. People are allowed to headcanon Charlie and Alastor with a father and daughter relationship but it isn't Canon and people need to stop acting like shipping them is the same as incest

Fanfictions and fandoms were supposed to be something fun but people started taking it too serious. Just let me enjoy my silly ships please

Didn't many people complain that Charlie x Vaggie have a lack of chemistry and didn't know they were actually together till Charlie said it in episode 5 as well? And i remember especially in the pilot days that people said Charlie is a bad partner because she doesn't always listen to Vaggie.

But somehow the people are "homophobic" or "lesbophobic" for disliking or preferring an other pairing. People just are stupid sometimes

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

I KNEW IT!!! I knew that one of the two episodes left of the year had to be a holiday one aha!! *LE GASP* does that mean the last one will be sonic 3?

*nods* respect 👏

A Christmas special with TARI, oooh! and noticeably a shorter one too, huh. alright, let's-a GOOOOOOOO

(the following is my live reaction:)

aww, look at Tari being adorable (see that's how you get me, have my favorite characters do cute little hops and my life is yours)

bringing back the side characters LET'S GOOOO

CLENCH omg you're back I hope you can stay for the whole episode

ooooh tari's christmas list just dropped. hmmm let's see...

Saiko = KFC Theme Guitar (honestly slay) Mario = Spaghetti Necklace (whether he's going to wear or eat it, he'll enjoy it regardless) Kaizo = Scythe Polish Luigi = Gardening Kit SMG4 = Body Oder Spray (my man can't catch a break, "he stinks" canon) Belle = Nintendo Switch Case SMG3 = Dog Grooming Kit (for Eggdog awwww) Melony = How to draw Manga book (nice callback to "SMG4 and SMG3 Shop For Cursed Items" episode for Christmas shopping) Whimpu = Glasses Repair Kit Boopkins = Body Pillow Cleaning Kit (...) Bob = Karaoke Machine (that's actually sweet considering he is a rapper and the obvious choice would be a gun or smth, tari's a good friend) Rob = Corn Keychain

the cliche superhero transition *wheeze*

can I just say I love the fit Mario has on

1920's spaghetti?

i did not expect to see Sonic 06 (foreshadowing, eh?) and as a sonic fan, i gotta respect the hustle

now, i know it's supposed to be disgusting and you obviously have to put gross things here to convey that but... there's that eye imagery again.... *flashbacks ensue*

oooh Christmas party! I wanna see that!

aww tari did get clench a glove, maybe she didn't want to spoil the surprise too soon

also let's take a moment for that board in the bg:

"Random Text Here Shameless Advertising Happy Birthday smg4!" then something signed by a "Fan"

gotta love the small details

gonna be using this as a reaction pic for now on

Mario, don't you guys have a basement? pretty sure no one will grab the bag in there

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OMG OMG THERE'S NO WAY THIS IS REAL THEY ACTUALLY USED CANTRO'S OUTFIT DESIGN FOR THIS EPISODE THAT'S AWESOME DUDE (am aware that the Team used the model before in a previous ep but it was only shown for a few seconds, this is BIG)

new merch, eh?

...i'll take your entire stock

Oh Tari, it's okay to say no. Four did ask if you had time

beautiful commercial....wha? Bob, da hell are you doing? oh the usual

charity? understandable, have a good day

PFFT HAHAHAHA that grenade bit somehow got me

oh Four somehow teleported outside, chair and all

*wheeze* the way they just latch on the back of the cop car like that

BOOPKINS? ...yeah I should've seen that coming. and he's on a toddler seat too

question for the people: is UNO a board game? if not, then boopkins, you got it wrong buddy

RIGHT NOW?! boopkins she's got her hands full

GEEZ even I'm getting stressed

gonna be real here: it was actually a good choice to have the plot at a faster pace just so we could feel Tari's stress rapidly building up

oh hey Meggy's matching with Mario (love that for the M&M siblings) but Saiko, girl, please get yourself a coat :( you're gonna freeze

OH GOD Tari, i need you to breathe please! all of this is stressing you out, it's okay to say no

...oh no

i can't look dude, i know Tari's technically fulfilling everyone's wishes but this isn't the way to go :(

C'MON TARI, HOPE YOU CAN MAKE IT IN TIME PLEASE

NO NO NO *flips table* oh poor Tari

OH NO CAN I GIVE HER A HUG PLEASE? *shakes my laptop screen* LET ME INNNNNNN

WTF NO SHE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS

TARI DON'T LISTEN TO THOSE VOICES IN YOUR MIND, YOU ARE A GOOD FRIEND

...three? let me turn the brightness up

yeah that's Four's model but for some reason has Three's voice and line.... huh... (I'll come back to this later)

dude, i literally had to pause and leave the room

fuck you got me tearing up. Team, is that what you wanted from me?

no tari, it wasn't your fault :( you didn't ruin anything

YES TELL HER, SAIKO

STAWP I'M THIS 🤏 CLOSE TO FULL-ON SOBBING WTF

FAMILY IS FOUND 👏👏👏

...wha? Three?

wait, this whole episode was you were retelling what happened to Tari, to Eggdog?

...that actually puts things in a whole new context (I'll talk about it later)

*gets hit by the book*

AY Congrats to Mango for your art being featured in the end credits! 🎉 what an awesome Christmas gift from the Team honestly

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

This was a fantastic Christmas special! This really punched me in the gut (but in a good way). Everything, as always, was amazing. Excellent job, Team!!! Too bad Clench couldn't be in the whole episode.

Oh Tari, my girl :( I felt the emotional rollercoaster along with her and I just wanted to give her a giant hug.

Me 🤝 Tari → people pleasers with a dose of abandonment issues

Tari, I've been there and I promise your friends aren't gonna leave you. What you can offer, what you're able to, that is worth something. It doesn't need to be material, just being a part of their lives is enough. No matter how big, because to them, it could mean a lot more than what you think.

It's what I've been struggling too, that the people who have approached me only wanted what I could offer, but not as a person. And it takes time to heal and open up again to people who are worth opening up to, but you'll get there.

So, to remind you (yes, the one behind the screen): you are enough. We are enough. What you do, means a lot more to other people than what you think. You'd be surprised how much a second of your presence means to people, and they value that. It's why it's okay to say no when you aren't able to, they'll understand if they truly do care for you. I promise, time will come around for you to find the good ones.

That's why I love this show. It isn't just a "silly meme show", it's so much more than that. Yes, it does have its funny moments but it can be emotional, dramatic, exciting. And even relatable. That's the point of stories. Like I said countless times before:

Every story, no matter how outlandish it seems, is grounded in reality.

That's why I'm glad this was one of the last episodes of the year, to bring it all back that it's a story that we all can relate to in some way. That we aren't alone. Grab each other by the hand and take one day at a time.

Oh boy, sorry for that emotional stuff. Just wanted to bring some comfort 💙 With that, I'm gonna bring back what was the most interesting of this episode: SMG3

It wasn't until the very end that we realized this whole episode was Three retelling Tari's story not only to Eggdog but also to Terrance.

(If I remember the layout correctly, right in the same nook above the fireplace is where Terrance's photo is placed)

So, yes, he is reading a bedtime story to both of his sons. (just gonna cry in the corner for a second) He's such a dad 🥺

Anyway, i shall put my theorist goggles on:

Back in the part when Tari was too late to buy the Crew presents and the voices in her head were bashing her for failing, we have SMG3 for some reason come in:

To be clear, that's Four's model (notice the lack of chip of the cap) but Three is the one saying: "And I thought I was evil..." Other than being the narrator, Three wasn't in the story, so the question is why?

The obvious would be that the Team simply made a mistake and forgot that they placed this in. Ok, sure, that's if it was on accident. But what if they did it on purpose?

As Three stated in the episode "Trash Friends", he truly believes he's "the worst version of SMG4"

Think about it: the basic roles for them are Four as the hero and Three as a villain.

If Three was ever in an episode all of a sudden is because he is the negative force of the story. Recall back to the episode "Meme Hunters" when Three was forced to be "the conflict" of the episode.

Now, it may seem harmless but to him, he was afraid to be perceived as nothing more than "SMG4's cheap and worst copy"

And also in "You Used to Be Cool", people have noticed when he does lay back a bit from the usual villain/rival role and bash him saying, "This isn't you."

Hero or villain, you're seen differently by everybody

Then there was the whole "moral of the story" part:

Ofc, it's a whole thing that Three refuses time after time that he's not friends with the Crew

Now with the context that we have, we just got a peek into Three's fears/insecurities. Basically: if he opens up and accepts that he has friends, they might try and take advantage of him. So, what should he do? Close himself off, be an asshole, and deny, deny, deny.

Despite risking literally everything, INCLUDING HIS OWN LIFE, for them, he's doing this to protect himself from emotional harm when he's the most vulnerable.

There's indeed a trope that villains, especially redeemed ones, would have a sense of empathy of some kind. They know what's like to hit rock bottom, it's why they can empathize with the people who least deserve it, like Tari. (Even with Four back in IGBP.) So yes, as much as this is a story about Tari, it also relates to Three.

How can you have what you want when you're the one holding yourself back?

Three: "I also need love, understanding, and tenderness." [IGBP movie, Spanish dub] Three: " I just want the USB in that spaghetti in your stomach so I can use it to gain fame and love that SMG4 has too much of, okay?!" Mario: "...Is that it? Silly SMG3, you could of just told Mario instead of suppressing your inner emotions and your fear of being forever forgotten." [Trash Friends]

I mean, look at the last episode, he was so happy to know he got fanart.

The pressure he has, the role he has to play, what he's perceived as. It all affects him. Sure, he doesn't care that he's not perceived as the standard definition of a villain but he is really as human as he can be, with fears and desires.

Another way to see the "failure" part of the episode is that Three could never see Four in a negative light. Sure, Four has made terrible mistakes but past the YouTube Arc, Three has never seen Four as a villain (again, the role of the hero thing). Four is flawed just as he is, but since he's the one telling Tari's story, he replaces Four with himself in the narrative.

It's not confirmed it's because he cares about Four in this instant but it's obvious he has done it on purpose. All because that's the role he plays, one he absolutely fears, "an evil and worst copy of Four".

(For all we know, he might've altered some other things in the story we haven't even known about.)

AND the fact that he's telling it like a bedtime story to his son(s) as a warning, so they don't go through what he went through when he was younger (his whole parenting of reminding them that they're loved and appreciated for even the smallest things)

So, long story short: me 🤝 Tari 🤝 SMG3 → underlining abandonment issues

I've been noticing that a lot of points from past episodes are starting to resurface again (like IGBP) and I do hope we get to bring back what's going on with Three. Then, we might get Three having the same conclusion that Tari went through: as much as he wants to deny it to protect himself, he'll realize that it's okay to be vulnerable and have friends.

And he'd be surprised how much of what he did was valuable to them. That what he seeks is already right in front of him. After all, he's already part of the Crew :)

He would just have to let himself avert his view and see the truth.

[demisexual-in-distress]

HELLUVA BOSS SPOILERS !!

First of all, I'd like to acknowledge the fucking banger in the room I see u barrett

But I genuinely thought that Octavia was going to sound like a broken record, angsty teen with the same reoccurring drama with Stolas. Yeah, it's reoccurring, but I think it makes sense now. Octavia is seeing through a very emotional lens, as a teenager (especially one accustomed to many privileges)---so yes, it's gonna be angsty!

Stolas was just figuring himself out and going through second adolescence with Blitz in view. He was also immature and forced to grow up and become a father at a young age. He was forced into the life he had and didn't have much of an option. We already know all this, and we know that people get distracted when new shiny things are in the picture---Blitz. But Via, being someone who hasn't gone through those struggles, sees it as Stolas cheating and getting all happy about Blitz when his family was supposed to be right there. Shouldn't she be all that he needs?

Via didn't know that Stolas is depressed. It's a heavy topic when it comes to a loved one, especially when you're their child. I understand that she feels bad, like she's not enough for him, like it's something she did being one of his only loved ones. She doesn't understand that depression is more complex than that in this moment because, again, she's seeing through this emotional lens. Her responses are entirely emotion based.

All this is later stated, and I think it makes sense. Finding out that Stolas is depressed seems like it was necessary for Octavia's drama to continue. I know people didn't like that she kept saying the same "you don't care about me" thing, but I feel like she required a lot of validation with Blitz being around. Octavia has always been accustomed to being Stolas' only loved one (that we know of). Now, that isn't completely secure anymore. As previously mentioned, she's accustomed to the privilege of being his top priority. She isn't used to sharing the space, and Blitz taking it over doesn't make sense because Stolas was supposed to be in love with Stella. Were they not a happy family? I know to some it seems small-minded of Octavia to never know about the conflict and tension between Stella and Stolas, but Stolas loves her very much---enough to go the extra mile to hide the abuse.

TL;DR: This is a lot to throw at a teenager. Give her some grace in navigating it.

[im-just-daria]

In The Dark Part 2

The Jackal x Reader

Fandom: The Day of The Jackal

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: You finally make it to Munich.

Warnings: Mentions of murder and dead bodies, threats, stalking, just the usual assassin stuff.

A/N: I know it took me some time. Enjoy the second part :) Feedback is most appreciated, as well as any mistakes you see <3

Tag: @spiderstyles04 tagged as requested <3

Your eyes shot open as the alarm on your nightstand rang loudly. With a heavy sigh, you tapped your phone to stop the ringing and rubbed your eyes as you stretched under the covers of your warm bedsheets. It took you five seconds to remember why on earth you set that alarm in the first place. Today is the first day of juggling full-time pub work and helping a criminal impersonate some German janitor to do whatever he needed. You certainly didn't want to know more than is necessary for two simple reasons- in case you ever get taken by police, the less you know, the better, and because you weren't sure how well you would cope with the fact that you possibly helped someone in murder.

Your feet touched the cold floor, and you walked to a chair by your desk with more clothes on it than in your wardrobe. You put on a sweater from the pile of clothes and walked to the bathroom. As you were sitting on the toilet, your mind started to replay last night's events. You were surprised at how calm you were; it was actually concerning. 'Wow, my moral compass is so off', you thought as you wiped yourself and stood up. While washing your hands, you suddenly remembered something from yesterday that had escaped your memory. You opened the drawer under the sink and saw the nail scissors still missing; the corners of your mouth moved slightly upwards. You made your way to the kitchen and found the piece of paper with the phone number the man gave you yesterday. You debated whether to text him or not ' I mean, the guy has a gun and knows all your personal details, but at the same time, I do have some questions.'

You bit your bottom lid as you finally decided to pick up your phone. You typed in the number and texted;

"Do I keep the receipts?" you asked, putting down your phone as you wanted to start your breakfast. You hadn't expected him to reply within five seconds. 'Does he not have a life?' you thought with a frown.

''Yes''

''Do I use only cash, or can I use my card?''

''Cash''

''Do you have any allergies? The prosthetic glue sometimes causes a rash:/''

'Fuck', You scolded yourself. You were one of these people who use emojis religiously, so your muscle memory just put it in the message. 'Fucking hell (Y/N), it is a random man who hired you to help him commit international crimes, and you threw in a frowning emoji'.

''No allergies, cash only, go to only bigger stores where it's relatively anonymous, try to blend in, lie if someone asks what it's for. Anything else?'

You felt the passive aggressiveness radiating from the message, but you just couldn't help yourself. There was something so satisfying about annoying this man.

''You didn't give me back my nail scissors.''

He didn't reply immediately, like with the rest of the messages, and honestly, you thought he would just ignore you. You put down your phone and turned on the kettle on your kitchen counter. You heard the notification sound of your phone. You almost sprinted to the phone.

''I will add 5 £ to the overall payment'' You smiled. 'Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it' You lost the battle with your self-restraint.

''But the good ones cost 10 £.''

''You remember I have a gun, right? Do not text or call this number unless it is important, or you will make it from Germany in a body bag. Now delete all the texts.''

'Fine', you thought to yourself as you put down your phone and got ready for your day.

Your shoulder started to hurt from all the supplies in your bag. 'Now I understand the need for backpacks'. Since you haven't seen his face, you weren't really sure what colours of foundations and powders to buy, so you got a few just in case. After all, your life pretty much depends on how well you execute this. As you passed through Vauxhall to get to Waterloo, you glanced at MI6 headquarters and wondered how much they didn't know. I mean, here you are on the pavement across the river carrying supplies necessary for international crime. 'Is it really that easy?' you thought to yourself.

The rest of the week passed by really quickly. If you weren't working, you were working on the prosthetic; if you weren't working on the prosthetic, you were trying to sleep, eat, get groceries or clean the house. Your back was killing you from being constantly hunched over your desk. 'I have absolutely no idea how single mothers exist.' you thought as you tried to stretch in your chair. The whole face prosthetic was done, as well as the wig; you were just finishing up the facial hair when you heard the knock on the door. You weren't expecting anyone, and you didn't order anything. A wave of uneasiness washed over you. You grabbed a scalpel from the desk you used to cut through fake skin and hid it behind your back. You approached the door and looked through the peephole. A delivery man was standing on the other side holding a bouquet of flowers. Now you were nervous; your love life was non-existent, so there wasn't a single person who could send you those. You opened a door hesitantly; you half expected the man to pull out a knife or barge in through the apartment. Instead, he just smiled and asked,'' Miss (Y/L/N)?''

You stuttered ''Y-yes''.

"These are for you." He handed you a bouquet of flowers and an envelope. At first, you simply stared at him, still expecting him to pull out a weapon, but he didn't. You extended your arm and slowly grabbed the flowers and the envelope. You felt sorry for the delivery man. He looked so confused. You looked like grabbing those flowers was a life sentence, and your heavy breathing certainly didn't help.

''Um, have a nice day,'' he said hesitantly and left.

''You too!'' You said a bit too loudly as he was almost out of your sight.

You closed the door and locked it. Making your way to the kitchen, you set the flowers on the counter and opened the envelope.

IN Saturday 19th of April 19.25 RyanAir Stansted-Munich.

OUT Sunday 20th of April 22.45 RyanAir Munich-Stansted.

Premier Inn Munchen Messe Hotel Munchener Str.

Use your card; put everything necessary in the check-in bag. When you get to the hotel, send a text message. You will receive further instructions once you arrive. Don't do anything stupid, or these will be your funeral flowers.

You pulled out your phone and booked all flights and the hotel as the note instructed. The hotel itself was on the outskirts of Munich. You knew you would have to call in sick tomorrow to make this flight. Once all the bookings were confirmed, you ripped the note and flushed it down the toilet. While making your way to the desk, your eyes fell on the flowers you left on the counter. Your lips twitched upwards as you approached them. They were really beautiful. You filled a vase with water and smelled the bouquet before putting it in the glass. You moved them to the living room so they could get some sunlight. You were determined to keep them alive as long as possible. You let out a laugh as you realised that the first flowers you have ever received from a man were from a criminal who attached a note with a death threat. You made your way to the bedroom and finished the prosthetic for tomorrow. As you were packing and preparing, a shadow of a smile still danced on your lips.

The flight was as stressful as you thought it would be. You were sure you looked suspicious because every few seconds, you looked around, scouting the airport for security and police. You tried telling yourself that you had absolutely nothing illegal in the suitcase, which was true after all. Make-up artists travel daily with tons of stuff like yours and don't get stopped by border control. You finally reached the hotel, paid the taxi driver, and entered the Premier Inn. You approached the lady at reception, who smiled at you.

''Hi, I have a booking for (Y/N) (Y/L/N), 1 night'' You tried to calm your nerves and keep a relatively neutral face as you handed her your passport.

"Of course," she replied and started clicking on her computer. "Right, here is your key and a letter from your fiance."

You grabbed both items as well as your passport, to be honest; after the flowers, you expected him to pull some shit like this. 'What a psychopath, he really is enjoying this, isn't he? At least now I know he won't break into my room at night.'

''Thank you,'' you replied to the receptionist and made your way to the room. You only wanted to shower and eat, but you knew the envelope was a priority.

You left your bag on the floor, took off your jacket and left it on a chair. Leaning against the desk, you opened the letter.

16.00 Ludwig-Thomas-StraSe 27: The doors downstairs and upstairs will be open. Do not knock; just come in. Wear something with a hood, and make sure your hair isn't visible. Take everything with you; you will go straight to the airport.

Walk, do not use public transport. And try not to look suspicious; you already did a shit job at that at the airport.

''What the actual fuck?'' you actually said it out loud. Was he actually following you at the airport? You shook your head and exhaled deeply. ''This is a fucking joke''. You let out a dry laugh and decided to have a shower and sleep. A realisation hit you as you stood in a bathroom, about to undress. What if he had cameras in your room? A part of you- the logical part- wouldn't be surprised if he had cameras here and in your apartment. But the other part -the weird, unhinged, delusional part- tells you he isn't that type of guy. ''Jesus Christ (Y/N), you don't know that man,'' you scolded yourself and got undressed. It was a very brief and quick shower. Once you got into bed, you closed your eyes and tried to go to sleep. Fifteen minutes into your failed attempts at falling asleep, a phone rang; you immediately recognised the number, and your heart stopped. You accepted the call and said shakingly. ''Y-Yes?''

"Didn't you forget something?" You almost forgot how he sounded. It's been over a week, after all. His voice was calm and smooth, with a British accent dominating his pronunciation. You mentally checked everything you brought with you, nothing coming to your mi- ''Fuck I am so sorry, I forgot to text you when I got here,'' You said quickly.

''I need to know you are making your locations on time; I won't always have a way to track your phone.''

'Oh my God, ' you thought. So, this isn't a one-time thing.

"Um, yeah, that's fair. I have a question, though, and it is rather important," you said, trying to sound confident but failing miserably.

''Make it quick; I don't have time.''

''That's what she said,'' you whispered timidly, immediately regretting the words as they left your mouth. 'That's it. He is gonna hang up now; great fucking job (Y/N).'

Instead, you heard a chuckle on the other end of the phone. You suddenly felt proud of yourself, and involuntarily, your mouth formed into a smile.

''What's the question (Y/N)'' He said in much lighter tone. You felt a bit more confident now, knowing that he actually found you funny.

''Do you have any cameras in my apartment or the hotel room?''

You could almost hear the confusion in his voice ''No.''

''Okay, that's good, yeah, okay,'' you exhaled, and a silence followed.

''Anything else?''

Once again, you lost the inner battle with your self-restraint and grinned as you tried to put in your most seductive voice.

"So," you said, taking a pause. "What are you wearing?" You honestly thought he had just hung up. After about ten seconds, as you were about to check the phone screen, he simply replied, "Good night (Y/N)."

Little did you know, a smile adorned his face as he hung up the phone. A smile that hasn't visited his face in years.

The next day, you checked out of the hotel at 11 in the morning and made your way to a cafe. You had 5 hours before you had to be at the location given to you. You tried to focus on a book you took with you, but after rereading the same page four times, you gave up. You ate your food and drank your coffee before going for a little walk. You really needed to calm down. Munich was much warmer than you thought, you decided to see the city centre rather than sit in one cafe for 5 hours. As it was getting closer to 4 pm, you started to make your way to the address. You followed Google Maps as you saw the right flat complex. The man didn't lie; the doors were open downstairs. You made your way up the stairs, looking for number 27. Your heart started racing as you stood in front of it. 'Just go in. You are wasting time.' You stood outside for the next two minutes before reaching the door handle. You opened the door and stepped into the hallway; you were immediately met with a familiar face you saw 10 days ago; however, this time... it wasn't in the dark.

You knew already he was tall; his face perfectly reflected his usual voice, emotionless, graceful, calculated and confident. Freckles were scattered across his clear skin, and his ginger hair was messy, but somehow, it fit him perfectly. His green eyes were focused on yours. He was leaning against a wall with his arms folded. You closed the door behind me, not sure what to say. He beat you to the greetings.

''Lingering outside someone's door for 3 minutes is rather suspicious, don't you think?'' His eyebrows raised as the sentence left his mouth.

You just stared at him, ''Yeah, um, yeah, it is, and you told me not to be suspicious.''

'Yes, I did'' He said seriously.

You tried your best to lighten the mood ''Soooo, do I get the house tour?''

''No, the bathroom is on the left. Go there and don't leave; set up everything you need.''

''What, is there like a body in here?'' You said jokingly and chuckled. You looked up at him to see his reaction. He just looked at you with a specific look that answered your question.

''Ohhh, okay''. You swallowed and made your way to the bathroom.

'Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic'.

The bathroom was small and didn't have much counter space. There was a chair and a stool. You opened your bag and set all prosthetics and the wig onto the sink counter; all make-up brushes, palettes, foundations, and powders were left on the chair. You turned around to grab a towel behind you when you were met with a familiar build. You gasped loudly, startled. How could he move so quietly?

"You can sit down if you want." He didn't reply; he simply took his place in a chair and looked at you expectingly.

It felt weird. Being cramped with a killer in a tiny bathroom, you wondered if the body lying somewhere in the house belonged to the man you would help him look like.

You began examining his face, your eyes tracing every curve of his face. His eyes never left yours; you guess he still doesn't trust you enough to be this close to you with his eyes closed.

"Your face has a rather unusual structure," your voice hitched as you realised how it sounded. "It's not an insult, just," you exhaled. ''Your eyes, sockets, and cheekbones are very hollow, but your lips are full. I will need to add some extra padding to make it look believable."Your hands were slightly shaking as you waited for his answer.

''Just do what you must. Be done by 8.30.''

You nodded.

His skin was unbelievably smooth, and his eyes still hadn't left yours, examining your every move. As you were working, you tried to explain everything you were doing. However, with the lack of his replies, you felt like you were just conversing with yourself instead.

After two hours of silence from his side, you opened your mouth but hesitated to say the sentence you wanted.

''Did you know that red hair and green eyes occur in only 0.14% of people on the planet?'' Once again, you expected silence, but he replied simply ''Yes''. Well, it's better than silence.

''How did you know?'' You asked, trying to hold the conversation.

''How did you?'' You sighed.

''I asked first.'' It was a childish answer, but a small smile played on your lips.

''My friend told me years ago,'' He said hesitantly.

''That's nice; I learned that in school during make-up classes in my first year,'' you replied calmly, suddenly feeling at ease.

''Did you like them?''

You were taken aback by his question. ''The classes?'' Still in disbelief, he showed interest.

He simply nodded.

''I did; I always found it relaxing; it's like painting or drawing for other people.''

You decided to take advantage of his sudden talkativeness.

''I probably need a name for you, a fake one. I really don't mind; I just can't refer to you in my mind as 'him'.

His lips twitched, and he said, '' And just how often do you refer to me in your mind?'' You stopped all your movement and averted your eyes from his wig hairline you were just fixing to look at into eyes.

You opened your mouth in shock and said lightly, chuckling, ''Did you just make a flirtatious joke?''

''Don't get used to it,'' He said as you added finishing touches to his appearance. His whole demeanour is changed. He seems more relaxed, and his eyes don't seem so controlling. He also didn't flinch every time you touched his face without warning.

''Let's go with Charles.''

You hummed ''Fine by me,''

''Right, all done.'' You said proudly as you stepped back, allowing him to stand up and examine your work in the mirror. You personally thought you had outdone yourself. Maybe the overhanging thought of death if you fuck up had something to do with it, or perhaps you are just that good.

''This is incredible,'' he said, not taking his eyes off his reflection.

Somehow, his praise meant more to you than any compliment you've ever heard from your teachers. 'Yeah, because whether you live or die depends on this,' you explained to yourself, not even allowing yourself to think of any other reason.

''You have a plane to catch; you should go,'' He said, finally averting his eyes from the mirror towards you.

''Yeah, you are right, I'm just gonna pack up. Um, here is a glue dissolver and a brush. Don't rip it, or your face will flare up; ginger people have a lower impact tolerance, so um yeah,'' You said, trying to hold eye contact, but halfway through the sentence, you lost confidence. You simply handed him the bottle and started packing your things. As you were about to grab the door handle, you turned towards him. He was leaning on the same spot on the wall as when you walked in, and you stood in the same place as before. Except this time, the man looked nothing like himself.

''I will transfer the money tomorrow,'' he said once again emotionless.

''Okay'' As you grabbed the handle, you smiled and turned back to him. ''I just want to let you know that I had so many urges to say ginger jokes today, but I didn't, and I think you should know that and appreciate it.''

He stood there like a statue, motionless. After a few seconds, he smiled and walked away.

''Just go home (Y/N).''

You high-fived yourself mentally. Annoying this man was fun, but seeing him smile is even better.

You left the apartment smiling, not worrying about looking suspicious.

[barzfrommarz]

I saw a long post about this on the c!wilbur community and they brought up some good points about c!fundy and c!wilbur so I wanna talk about the issues I have with c!fundy revolving c!wilbur (not his character overall)

c!Fundy neg ahead

One point i’ll make clear immediately is that c!fundy abandoned c!wilbur first. c!wilbur did not “abandon” c!fundy until his suicide. That’s just the truth and i’m tired of certain people spinning it in a different way.

c!fundy chose to join manburg and stand on that stage and publicly declare that his ONLY relations with L’manburg was just being born there. Nothing else. I don’t care about his motives, he chose to do that infront of every and this hurt c!wilbur whether this fandom wants to admit it or not

Now yes, c!wilbur wasn’t the best father by any means. Canonically he babied c!fundy pretty hard and there is probably a reason for it and that reason isn’t malicious at all in my opinion! I’m not stating a reason simply because we never got one in canon but I doubt that c!wilbur was being intentionally malicious towards c!fundy, I genuinely think he was just trying to protect him like everyone else and he went about it the wrong way. Not that any reason justifies it since it hurt c!fundy, but still i’m making a point here that not everything c!wilbur does is malicious

What c!fundy did was way too far and not justifiable. He ran against his own father then sided with c!schlatt and got up on stage and said that shit. Then he proceeded to burn down the flag with c!wilbur watching who might I remind you was also exiled brutally killed by the side c!fundy just joined! I’m pretty sure he was also up on stage when c!wilbur was killed so he just watched him get murdered!

Moving fowards, suddenly after c!wilbur death we see c!fundy being all sad and claiming he was abandoned (JUST LIKE C!NIKI) I understand being hurt and upset your own father died, but to completely turn around and paint this narrative that you were intentionally abandoned is not only ableist but also it’s not going to make c!fundy feel any better. This is just bad writing imo and it only serves to demonize c!wilbur further

Also didn’t he try to get adopted by c!eret? Cleary, to me atleast c!fundy doesn’t care that much about c!wilbur anymore since he wanted so badly to be adopted but the person who KILLED c!wilbur and his family and then never fucking apologized correctly for it!

Now moving onto revival, c!wilbur has every right not to seek out c!fundy. To him, c!fundy set a clear boundary and why would he go out of his way to try and get c!fundy back when the last time he remembers c!fundy made it clear he didn’t want that? This fandom would’ve demonized him anyways if he sought out c!fundy trying to re build their relationship so he literally cannot win in any scenario

Now onto the stream. I think that stream wasn’t good at all. I appreciated their good moments sure but I have a few specific issues with it

One is the end of the stream where c!fundy JUMPS INTO THE LMANHOLE to “get away” from c!wilbur

talk about overreaction. I’m sorry I just think that moment was only added to give them more angst. c!fundy could’ve easily just walked past/away from him or waited for c!wilbur to leave before leaving himself, would’ve had much more of an impact I think.

and to be fair, c!wilbur was arguably pretty far away from c!fundy when he jumped, he only stopped to look back at HIS SON one more time before leaving LIKE HE WAS ASKED TO. I’m not even going into how this affected c!wilbur much because I genuinely just think that was shitty writing and didn’t need to happen, it was only there for useless angst.

Now moving on next part I have a problem with is the “why did you die?” line from fundy. Can I just say right off the bat the way it was said was so fucking rude of c!fundy. It wasn’t somber or out of genuine concern, he sounded angry at c!wilbur for *checks notes* KILLING HIMSELF!!!!!

I don’t care that he was hurt. You don’t say that to your father who killed himself. You don’t say that to any suicidal person actually. He was clearly uninterested in c!wilburs life yet he wants to act like this?? c!fundy painted it (intentionally or not) as a malicious calculated plan to abandon him instead of c!wilbur being at his breaking point. He couldn’t take it anymore so he killed himself yet c!fundy never acknowledged that

That stream, like a lot of the others imo just feels redundant because c!fundy never apologized or admitted he was in the wrong. They never talked about c!fundy abandoning c!wilbur for seemingly no reason or even the pogtopia buttons!! Which he did!! Their conversation wasn’t mutual. Even if it was and in the end c!fundy still wanted no contact, it would’ve atleast been satisfying to the viewers that they atleast talked with each other and acknowledged when they hurt each other

Think that’s where i’ll shut up now. I still have a few more things to say

I understand that i’m very biased right now. I am a c!wilbur apologist and I understand that my bias could possibly be affecting my view point.

I can still sympathize with c!fundy. He was hurt and he was hurt by c!wilbur. That’s just fact and c!wilbur did need to apologize to him and i’m glad that it was called out in the beginning by c!fundy that c!wilbur tried to walk away. Obviously I don’t think it was right of c!eret to trick c!wilbur into seeing c!fundy when im assuming he wasn’t prepared to talk to him if at all but im glad they atleast talked and had some good moments together.

Now just some light myth clearing from me

“c!wilbur never cared about c!fundy”

That’s just an obvious lie. He cared about his son and he cared a lot whether he admitted it or not. You all forget sometimes that c!wilbur lies and he lies a lot to avoid being vunerable. He literally stood up for his son when c!schlatt said some transphobic ass shit to c!fundy even though their relationship was ruined. It was alluded that he fainted when c!fundy jumped to get away from him, why would that happen if he didn’t care?

“c!wilbur was an abusive/neglectful father”

no…he wasn’t. He canonically babied c!fundy. While not good, it’s not abuse

“c!wilbur abandoned c!fundy”

The most common argument. No he didn’t. He killed himself. This is an ableist narrative spouted by characters and the fandom

Thank you for listening to my rant. This is all my opinion and please if anything here is wrong, correct me so I can fix it

[transtrashpanda]

I really hate how much this fandom ignores Peter as being part of the group because he betrayed the Potters (and when they do include him he's treated like shit), so here are my favorite Peter hcs cause he's one of my fav characters and doesn't get enough attention!!

he's amazing at herbology and loves plants + him tutoring the others in it because he and James are the only ones who give a damn about it (James' mum adores gardening and he helped her a lot growing up)

he is a fiend for green clothes and wears green (sage greens particularly) c o n s t a n t l y

he had braces starting the summer after third and ending in early to mid fifth (he was lucky enough to not need headgear though)

James and Sirius affectionately called him "brace-face" and "tin-grin" during that time

he, James, and Marlene all grew up together and Euphemia's love for gardening got him started with his love of plants (he always takes time to talk to her about his new plants when they all go to the Potter's for the hols and she thinks it's just the sweetest)

probably smoked weed

ok he definitely smoked week

aroace but doesn't have the labels to properly describe it cause it's the 70s

doesn't quite understand gay people (or romance in general but he gets that slightly more) but if it makes his mates happy then it's cool by him!

he and James are the sole reasons Remus and Sirius regularly consume meals

has major anxiety but also a fuck it we ball mentality (one of my favs! it's so fun to play with how they mix for him!! highly recommend)

really fucking funny but doesn't talk much so no one outside of his friends know about his absolute wicked sense of humor

he either remembers every word of a conversation you had with six years ago or doesn't remember even talking to you two days ago. there is no in between and there is no way of telling which you'll get

he probably had a lazy, orange cat who ONLY liked him and Sirius

yum bagels

struggles with words but will randomly say the most eloquent, wise old man esque shit ever and then goes back to stuttering

reads books with Remus and Lily!!

wore green to a quiddich match against slytherin once and James and Sirius stole everything off his bed and hid it from him for a week (he just cuddled with Remus every night)

loves baking and cooking but is pants at it (he's getting better though!!)

can convincingly bark like a dog???

probably cried to Lily a couple times because 'why are his friends so fucking oblivious??'

makes fun of his friends unprovoked, constantly

literal god at chess (only time he loses is when he pretends to while teaching underclassmen)

insanely good at photography!!

asfhgfsfdaaa

I love him sm and have so many more so if you're interested don't be afraid to send an ask :)

[electronix-arts]

i think people need to understand that they both fucked up as parents because of the situation they found themselves in, which obviously doesn’t excuse the fact they both abandoned their family, it gives an explanation on why they did what they did. they had no malicious intent, they wanted to help and protect the ones they loved, but they did it in the worse way possible

the doormans genuinely love and care for one another, this is a family who is trying to get better and by looking at ep 8 credits, they seem to be doing better!! its just the fact that when you lose your spouse in a pretty traumatic way, you’re gonna be fucked up

midnight confession: i easily form biases on people based on how they interpret khan and so sometimes i’ll gag every time i see someone on discord who ive seen say a khan hot take that pissed me off, like they literally don’t have to do anything as long as they have a bad khan take, they are an opp

am i overdoing it? definitely. can i stop it? no i am literally just a girl