#it's something that i seem to really know well for some reason. that feeling of longing and yearning

[aialsposts]

Absolutely LOVING the use of Mabel’s slang and Ford’s slight hesitation but willingness to adapt because like. Those kids talked like old timers in the show (likely just from being around one for a while)

so you KNOW they came back when in high school with Dipper saying stuff like “I’m about to absolutely crash out on Robbie this time. MABELLL?? WHERE’S YOUR GRAPPLING HOOK-“

And Mabel saying stuff like

“Slay the house down mama!!” And “you better WALK that DUCK” and even Dipper is like,,

“So from what I gather this is… a way of her saying essentially you’re doing really well and your outfit is so good it could…kill her??? I think??”

And it’s also a lot of Ford finally caving and begging for a presentation from Dipper about their generation’s Slang. Mabel has to be Dipper’s project partner; while he initially didn’t want to drag her into this, unfortunately he hit a wall in his research where he fully couldn’t see the connection, and Mabel was completely overexcited to oblige.

First half of the presentation:

Very well put together slides, including graphics here and there introducing a timeline for when said slang started taking off, Dipper’s theories as to *why* certain slang rose more popularly/had longer “staying power”, and even some older slang from Ford’s generation that roughly translates to something modern. “I’m gonna crash out on ___” roughly equals “you’re cruising for a bruising, pal”

While the other half was essentially:

*disorganized bright colors and really hard to read print over graphics that don’t really technically go with what’s being talked about?? From what Ford can gather??*

The first presentation is an absolute disaster, but after finally setting aside their differences to create a better, much more comprehensive presentation, it ends up with Dipper learning a lot more lingo, too (for better or worse, you decide lmao), and having Mabel do more of the sort of explaining to Dipper (he did the graphics and visuals this time, it hurt his SOUL to see his sister’s side of the presentation BDJSVDJ) and Mabel helped Dipper grapple with the connotations of lingo a little more. For some reason the worse it sounds it seems to mean?? Something better?? It confuses him just as much as it does Ford, and Ford really starts to see ‘tism signs in Dipper as he slowly realizes how much Dipper is just like him growing up (like. Dude’s REALLY trying to understand “slay” “yass” “queen” and he gets that down and Mabel’s like “alright, beginner level over, now, what does, “slay the house down boots mama!” Mean?”

Even adding her extravagant gestures to the slang, which, to his credit, surprised Dipper because normally body language helps but like. Mabel body language and “what the culture’s feeling” aren’t exactly the same thing. He couldn’t, for the LIFE of him, figure out whether or not the gestures were actually included— as in, used by anyone other than just Mabel— and he was in fact wrong because it turns out the gestures ARE important, but there’s also varying LEVELS of importance.

Like the more emphasis (more ‘cartoony’/fluid/exaggerated the movement, the more the person REALLY fucking means it, no matter how little or how much emphasis they put into their voice (kinda going against his autism’s way of learning because like. Tones are?? So important I thought??? Why does this not apply here??)

Genuinely once they’ve presented all the information, and Ford gets a better idea of it, they’re all ready to just end this information exchange,,, until Stan walks in and overhears Dipper say to Mabel, “I think we slayed this presentation”

To which the twins simultaneously face palm as they realize they have to do the presentation again,

and Ford gets The BIGGEST grin, because, you see, Ford’s ability to process information is largely dependent on setting, generally, the mystery shack is… not a place he’s overjoyed about being at, but with others around it can sort of quell that sick feeling he gets and such.

So while he *mostly* understood the presentation, he didn’t want to have the twins repeat themselves (especially after learning what “unc status” means) so when his brother, Stanley, has to endure the same chaos but WITHOUT the prior understanding Ford’s now working with, all he can do is pull the twins aside and whisper, “how about we add something to your presentation, I think it might help Stanley understand this one term better-“

After a few slides where Stanley hardly seems to be paying any attention, Mabel clears her throat, Dipper stifling his laughter as Mabel announces loud and clear that a “new term” “just dropped”. She points the clicker super professionally, and as the slides turn, it’s the most abhorrent neon slide to ever disgrace the earth. Glitter. Fairies. Graphics that actually DO work this time though, she made sure to give more accurate visuals.

Introducing: GRUNK STATUS!

“It’s like Unc status but even more archaic!” Mabel enthusiastically declares.

Dipper is giggling so hard he’s having a full out asthma attack on the floor, and Ford finally can’t contain his laughter either. Mabel starts to laugh along and Stanley looks absolutely miserable for a moment.

“Aw, c’mon they’re just kids,” Ford laughs.

“You put them up to this. I don’t know how to prove it but I KNOW you did this. That stupid fucking Pun has YOUR NAME written ALL OVER IT-“

*cough/mumbles something about it being Stanley’s name, legally, last he checked which IMMEDIATELY Started a fight, until Mabel slams her fist down.*

“Ahem. Gentlemen. The presentation isn’t OVER. Sheesh, talk about Crashing out,” Mabel says, SO calmly that both grunkles sink back in their seats a bit like kids in trouble for causing a ruckus at school. (Mabel and Dipper do a lil thumbs up bc hey, that was a great way to give an example of a Term, Mabel! Good job!)

“Ohh… I get it, Crashing Out means you’re cruising for a bruising!” Stanley declares (sort of under his breath). To which Ford replies, voice equally lowered, “wasn’t that a few slides back? They already said that,” as if he hadn’t had the EXACT same epiphany earlier on, and was merely able to contain it before sounding “even more unc” (he tries, but the grammar with the slang is slightly off sometimes).

This essentially causes another argument.

This third run of their presentation took them 2 hours to get through due to Stanley and Stanford’s arguing.

Their first two runs with only Ford took maybe 45 minutes max (not including their needing to fix said presentation).

The twins put up with Stan and Ford’s fighting because they realized it’s probably essentially exactly how they looked when they were bumping into each other the first time they were trying to create this presentation.

Some things never change.

Sibling Rivalry? Absolutely timeless.

I was thinking about how he did not have to include this photo of himself in TBOB and how it really looks like it had to be taken by someone else.

[iimplicitt]

hiii 🤠 anon here

how do you feel about writing for mafia lando where he’s married to the reader who’s not his choice it’s basically an arrangement and his family hates her and she’s having a really hard time in his house and Lando doesn’t notice and he’s cold and one day her family causes her to have a panic attack and he sees her in his room all small and scared and then he helps her and makes her a feel better and etc something about a heated confession and people being put in their place. if you do write this thank you :)

HAPPINESS IS A BUTTERFLY | LN4

pairings: mafia! lando x arranged marriage reader

an/warnings: arranged marriage, violence, mentions of abusive parents, angst, panic attacks, fluff, hea

wc: 5.2k

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

He bit the inside of his cheek as he watched the sleek back car roll up in the long drive way from his office. Windows tinted but he could make out the faint outline of a person as they moved around before Oscar got out of the car to open the door for its passenger.

His new wife.

The words tasted sour on his tongue as he drank some of his whiskey, not caring that it was nine in the morning. He needed a pick-me-up for the day that was ahead.

Gleaming hair caught in the sunlight, a delicate hand with a blinding diamond hesitantly taking Oscar’s as red bottom Louis’ met the pavement.

His eyes narrowed a bit as he watched you, mere curiosity to see how you acted when he wasn’t around. When the wedding happened it was short and extravagant. All the glitz and glamour expected of such a pair. A politician's daughter and a booming business man whose money usually came tinted red. A shame that most of the world didn’t know your fathers money was just as dirty as his.

It was an alliance in London’s eyes. A step towards peace.

He hadn’t even seen you until the white lace veil was lifted.

You were pretty but that wasn’t enough to suddenly sway his mind into liking the whole arrangement. He didn’t have much choice. Having coppers on a payroll was a deal too good to pass up, so he agreed. Shook hands. It hadn’t mattered much, not in the long run. Lando was always busy. Always working. If a marriage hadn’t been forced upon him, he didn’t think he would’ve ever had a ring on his finger.

He watched silently as you waited for Oscar to grab your bags. Your eyes flickering around the property, taking in the well kept gardens and security cameras mounted every few yards. A fortress.

His eyes took in the dress you wore, expensive silk draped over skin. Flowing like liquid in the subtle summer breeze. He took note of how your hand kept flexing, the one with a ring. His ring.

The one he had slid on your finger a week ago as he whispered, “I do.” Your own voice low as you muttered the vow, eyes not meeting his.

He could barely remember what the kiss had been like. It was quick, soft. Obligatory. Both of you seemed relieved it was over with, arms linked with one another as you left the cathedral. White flower petals falling into hair as they were tossed into the sky.

Lando set his tumbler down and backed away from the window, trying to take a calming breath before walking downstairs. He needed to make this livable. An ecosystem. Staying out of each other's way, respecting boundaries. Telling where and what was off bounds. If you needed help, ask Oscar. If you wanted someone to talk to, also ask Oscar. Leave him be, because he was busy.

You seemed reasonable enough in the few minutes of shared company. You knew this was a business transaction. It wasn’t something to get hopes up on. Lando knew you were smart enough not to be a burden so hopefully it would feel like nothing had changed. Just an extra person in the household. Another echoing voice.

He could hear the sharp click of your heels as you entered the front foyer, the soft sound of your voice as you spoke in hushed tones. Your whole presence seemed cautious. Like you were treading in a minefield.

As he stepped down the stairs and into the light, your eyes met. The air shifting. Tense. Dangerous. Your painted lips pressed into a line as you waited for instruction. Ever obedient. Compliance being woven into you as a child.

He had met your father on more than one occasion and he knew he wasn’t a kind man.

But the problems of your past were yours.

Lando sighed lightly through his nose, head tilting and hands in pockets as he let himself look at you for another moment before dismissing Oscar.

The foyer was still. The only thing he could hear was the faint hum of electricity and birds outside. Watching you as you watched him.

“Nice drive?” He asked, not quite sure on the formalities of the situation.

You laughed slightly, the sound coming out in a short exhale as you looked away from him. “It was fine.”

He hummed, not seeing a point in furthering the conversation and he gestured for you to follow him.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The summer had gone by in a repetition of droning days and lonely dinners. The only thing keeping you company were the few books you packed, although you had already read through them all. An endless cycle of talking to the walls and sitting near your window, feeling like a modern day Rapunzel.

It’s not necessarily like you weren’t allowed to go anywhere, but it still felt off limits. Frowned upon. A burden if you were seen walking the halls.

His family didn’t like you very much. Which you both understood yet couldn’t come to terms with. They had to have known this wasn’t any more of your choice than it was his. And why shovel the blame onto someone’s child? It wasn’t your fault your father was corrupted and played a better hand.

Pressing your forehead against the cool glass, you watched as the world went by. The silent hum of air conditioning was the only thing to droll out your thoughts and lately it hadn’t been working. The room felt suffocating but there was no one to turn to. Even voicing your thoughts out loud to yourself seemed like some boundary was being crossed. Maybe even to yourself. That you were starting to get too comfortable.

Oscar seemed nice enough. Timid. Not sure how to approach you or if he even should. He brought your meals to your door like clock work. Part of you felt bad but the thought of eating in the dining room seemed like suicide. You had tried the first night, assuming that was just part of the routine. To have dinner with your…husband.

But Lando was nowhere to be found, leaving you at a large oak table alone and shoveling food around. Appetite non-existent. Oscar had told you he usually took dinner in his office. That most of the other members of the household ate out.

His words hit you dully as you stared at the polished wood, not quite believing this was going to be the rest of your life. Then again, you weren’t sure what you wanted. Did you want Lando to make an effort? Did you even want to be around him? You didn’t know much, just that he was a bad man. But aren’t they all? Apparently that’s all the world thought you were fit for. Violent men with money in their eyes.

No, you didn’t want to know him.

But god, loneliness caught up to everyone.

The hours ticked by and you sat there, tracing lines into the skin of your thighs with your nail. Over and over again till skin prickled and red lines appeared. The itch and sting foreign, numb. As if you’d shot your heart with novacaine. Your eyes unblinking as you did the action, pure muscle memory. You didn’t have to think. You didn’t want to.

At least you never wanted to think about yourself. Your situation. The listless marriage you now found yourself trapped in.

But your mind would wander. What did he get up to? What did he even do? Was it really any different from the current political affairs the nation got up to? Would he one day change his mind and want more?

The thought made you shiver, eyes trailing to your locked door. He’d never tried to come in. Hell, he’d never even been to your room. In the weeks you’d been there you had probably only seen him a handful of times. Walking down the hall and his eyes would catch yours for a moment but nothing else. Looking through you like a ghost. Cold. Indifferent. Sometimes you’d hear him in the house. Talking to Oscar or on the phone. Always business. Always something you didn’t understand.

He couldn’t seem bothered at the thought of you being around. Didn’t seem interested. And that weird, fucked up little voice in the back of your mind whispered that Lando was keeping himself entertained just fine. That he found comfort in other women. Having affairs. You barely felt married. There weren't technically any commitments beyond regurgitated vows. So why did the thought still make your stomach churn?

Perhaps it was the feeling of being unwanted. A constant companion of doubt. Your family didn’t want you, pawned you off. Your husband didn’t want you. You would never get to experience love. You’d go through life longing for creature comforts—

You pressed your forehead harder into the glass. Wanting the thoughts to stop. You pushed so hard you hoped it’d break and you’d go hurtling towards the ground.

There was a sharp knock on the door. Six o’clock sharp.

Dinner.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You felt like you were going insane. The walls bending inward. The wallpaper swirling. The ceiling breathing.

Crazy.

Wandering the halls was reckless but you started to care less and less if Lando saw you. For the first time in months you wanted him to see you. Be reminded that you were there. Proof you were alive. You were here. Even when it never felt like it. You felt like a phantom who haunted the house, mostly only coming out at night when the rest of the world slept. Chasing the creaks of wood and following the patterns in the rug. Chasing something. Feeling wild. Deranged like a white rabbit who was late for tea.

His mother yelled at you. For something, you weren’t sure what. It seemed like no matter what you did you were wrong. Skin not fitting right over bones. Disassociating and staring at her. That only made her more mad and she slapped you. Not for the first time. Hard across the face. You hadn’t noticed till you heard the echo of it around the kitchen. Didn’t realise till some of the staff gasped, hands flying over mouths. Glowing wide eyes staring at you in shock.

You blinked again, subtle warmth creeping into your cheek. Hand slowly going up to hold your face. What had you done wrong? Why were you always wrong?

His mother scoffed. “You’re no good. You’re not even all the way there are you?” With a look of disgust she turned away, disappearing down the hall.

One of the cooks slowly approached you, as if you were some wounded animal. Holding out a pack of ice. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“For what?” Your voice sounded distant. Distorted. Like it was coming from somewhere else. Taking the ice, you left. Letting it sit in your hand instead, the bitter coldness of it sending a dull shock up your arm.

You felt like crying. At least you thought about it. But nothing would fall out. Your eyes felt dry and heavy. Staring at nothingness as you walked with your heartbeat thudding in your ears.

This was your life. This was going to be your forever. Sucked into yet another man's orbit who didn’t give a shit about you. Because fuck what you want, right?

You turned into what you thought was your bedroom. You weren’t quite sure how you got there. It had been odd lately. Like moments of time blacked out. Arriving one place and not knowing how you got there. Tuning out to your depressing reality.

You were going to die alone. It wasn’t even your fault. Or maybe it was. Maybe you should’ve tried harder. Fought your father and left as soon as you had turned of age. Why didn’t you try harder to fight back? Did some twisted part of you want this? The lack of effort. Things being handed to you. Maybe you thought you deserved it. After all, you'd been living off your fathers dirty money guilt free. Perhaps this was just your karma.

Longing for a life you’d never have.

You sucked in a sharp breath, tears finally beginning to prick at your eyes. The droplets stung so bad your vision went blurry.

You barely felt it as your knees hit the hard wooden floors. Didn’t register the scratching sound of your nails dragging against the planks, blindly trying to crawl your way out of the hell you were living. Feeling pathetic and ungrateful because you knew it could be worse. It could always be worse.

A sob left your throat, bubbling up and out like acid.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The door flew open to his office and he was about to yell at whoever had the audacity when he turned, paused. The look on Oscar’s face wasn’t one commonly seen.

“What?”

“There’s a problem.”

Lando sighed, tapping his pen on his desk. “Care to elaborate?”

“It’s your mother and your wife.”

Lando reared back slightly at the word. It wasn’t thrown around often. Hell, he hardly saw you. And when he did, when he’d catch you wandering around well past three in the morning something was just…off. He didn't know how to approach you. Or if he even should. You’d seemed equally disinterested by his company. Staring at him sometimes like he was an apparition that wasn’t meant to be there.

He wouldn’t blame you if you hated his guts. Lando knew most women would prefer a love filled marriage compared to whatever the hell they had.

“What about them?” He asked, eyes flicking down to his papers again. Not seeing why—

“The staff said there was an altercation in the kitchen.”

Pausing, his eyes flicked up. Brow raising.

Oscar sighed, “your wife is in your room.”

That got him up. What the hell were you doing in there? And why? It wasn’t like he kept important documents in there, he knew better than that but he still didn’t trust you much. You were your fathers daughter. Maybe this was all some ploy to get into his personal things, find weaknesses, cracks.

His feet moved briskly down the hall, his polished shoes clicking dully on the ornate rugs and painted eyes followed him as he went. Lando didn’t pause as he saw his door, didn’t pause as he turned the handle.

“What do—“

Lando halted to a stop as his eyes found you. Feeling as if the earth had been yanked out from beneath him when he heard you try to smother the sound of your crying with a hand. Curled up in the space between his bed and the nightstand. Looking so small as you trembled.

Your eyes didn’t meet his. He wasn’t even sure if you heard him come in. Your breathing was too fast, too ragged. Short bursts of oxygen, your lungs not being able to keep up.

He shut the door softly behind him and quietly made his way over to you, lowering himself to his knees. Debating if he should touch you or not. You hadn’t touched in months. Not since the wedding.

“Hey,” his voice was soft and you flinched. Head shooting up and staring at him. He’d never seen you look so frightened and you tried to push yourself back harder into the wall. Shaking your head as if he’d caught you doing something wrong.

He immediately caught the red outline of a hand on your cheek. His jaw clenched. An odd, unbearably awful sensation churned in his stomach at the thought of someone hurting you. Knowing it was his mother only made the fire burn hotter. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like you were close. But the rage was itching up his spine like a spider.

“You’re okay,” he said again. His voice was rough, but a whisper. He reached out to you, slowly. Hands gently taking hold of you as he pulled your shaking frame into his, feeling the way your lungs struggled to catch up. Your muscles coiled in tension as he touched you. He hated it.

“You’re alright, darling.” He soothed your hair back, feeling your nails bite into his skin as you twisted the fabric of his shirt. Trying to ground yourself. Trying to make sense of it all. Of why he was here.

He knew it had to be confusing. That his sudden reassurance was off putting and regret was starting to inch its way up his throat. The spindly legs tickling and desperate. He should’ve handled this whole thing better. It was selfish. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. Holding your head beneath his chin as you tried to calm down. “I’m here, if you need me to be.”

You didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to do. Where to go from there. This was new territory for him. Second guessing wasn’t usually in Lando’s playbook but you were something new entirely.

He began to lean away but your grip tightened on his shirt, your head pressing further into the crook of his neck.

Sighing, he maneuvered himself into a sitting position, holding you in his lap as he leaned against his bed. Giving you time. Gently running circles into the nape of your neck. His grandmother always did that for him, it always seemed to help calm him down. Lando waited patiently, taking in the faint scent of your shampoo. Smiling to himself a bit despite everything because it was the same one he used.

Slowly your harsh breathing began to subside but your body still trembled from the aftershocks.

His fingers still ran lightly over your skin, his voice a low hum and he could feel the vibration of his own rib cage with your weight against him. “I’ve had panic attacks too, you know?”

You didn’t do anything for a moment, and then, like the first break of daylight, you slightly shifted your head and your voice was a whisper. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Something had shifted. Maybe others wouldn’t have noticed, but you did. That next morning there was a knock on your bedroom door. Eight o’clock sharp. You hadn’t slept much, your eyes still raw and body restless from the previous evening. The feeling of his light, delicate touch on you was on replay in the back of your mind. You hadn’t been held in what felt like years.

You hadn’t expected such kindness from him.

Padding over to the door, you rubbed at your eyes, trying to look alive before opening it. “Morning, Oscar–” you blinked at the form of Lando standing in the hall. Wearing a casual linen shirt and dress pants, jacket draped over one arm and he looked at you expectantly.

“Ready?” He asked.

You felt dumb as you continued to stare at him. Not expecting to see him so soon. Not thinking he’d even want to see you after yesterday’s mess. “What?”

He sighed lightly through his nose. “We’re going out for breakfast.”

“Why?”

There was a slight crease forming between his brows. “Do you not want to?”

You blinked again before reality finally caught up to you. “No, no. That’s fine. Just… let me get dressed.” You eyed him as you shut the door. He was acting weird.

It was nice.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

“What on earth are you doing?” His mother shouted over the sound of a power drill. Standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.

Lando looked at her for only a moment. Still cross with her after the kitchen incident a couple of weeks ago. He had yelled at her after he managed to get you into bed. Yelled at his whole family. The staff, for not telling him.

“She is the lady of the household and my wife. You do not touch her, you do not say a fucking word to her unless it’s praise.” He looked directly at his mother. “Understood?”

“I’m building a reading nook.” He finally said, standing back to look at his progress so far. He took you to the fabric store yesterday but you were beyond indecisive and he wasn’t sure the new couch went with the interior of his office.

He had been trying to go out more, just small places. When he found out you hadn’t left the house since you arrived he was confused and furious with Oscar. His friend and right hand had merely raised his hands in surrender, muttering how you had never wanted to go anywhere.

“Whatever for? Since when do you read for pleasure?” His mother asked, mostly teasing. Trying to weave her way back into his good graces. He doubted that would ever happen. He was on the verge of throwing her out but you managed to talk him out of it.

“It’s not for me.” Lando left it at that. Watching how his mother’s shoulders fell at the realisation and she turned away.

He smiled slightly to himself as he set up the couch, pushing it under the window so you could get good light and a nice view of the gardens. Plus, he could watch you more easily from his desk when he worked.

You looked pretty when you were reading.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

For the first time in months you were bored, and not in a bad way. Lando made sure there was always something for you to do when he wasn’t around. Part of you felt bad, following him around like a kicked puppy. But any time you’d start to back off, give him some space, it was like his hand blindly found yours, not even looking up from his work, tugging you back.

Muttering a quiet, “stay.”

You tried to ignore the butterflies that began fluttering in your stomach, chasing after whatever this was. You didn’t know why you felt stubborn over it. He was your husband after all, butterflies are supposed to be a good thing.

You took up cooking as a hobby, mostly different kinds of fresh pasta. Trying to keep your hands steady as Lando would walk behind you, fingers lightly dragging along the small over your back. Leaning over your shoulder, lips nearly brushing your neck as he quietly spoke, “that looks lovely.”

He always spoke so softly to you. His touch always delicate.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Lando fixed his cuff links as he stood in the foyer, making sure his suit was wrinkle free in the large mirror. There was a big Christmas gala that night in London. A whole cluster of politicians, businessmen, philanthropists, etc. He didn’t have much of a role to play besides being seen, given his bookies did most of the under the table work.

When he’d asked you to go with him, you hesitated. He knew seeing your father was something you’d like to avoid. Over time you slowly opened up to him about how strained the relationship was.

He had lifted a hand to your cheek, gently brushing his knuckles along your cheekbones, watching in satisfaction as your pupils expanded at his touch. “I won't let him near you,” he whispered. Watching as you debated before eventually nodding, leaning slightly into his touch.

When he heard the sound of heels clicking sharply against marble flooring his eyes flicked up, watching you approach in the mirror. Looking like heaven in high heels. Your black dress fit you perfectly, the white fur shawl was draped lazily over your shoulders.

Lando felt his mouth go dry as he turned, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as you approached. The sweet smell of your perfume swirling around him, making him feel hazy.

God, if you knew what you did to him.

It seemed like every night now that he dreamt of kissing you, doing a whole list of unruly things. Despite the ring on his hand and yours it still felt off limits. Not feeling sure of what you actually wanted.

“Ready?” You asked, a small smile playing on your lips.

He blinked at you, still in a daze. “What?”

You bit your lip, holding back a laugh and he felt his stomach pool.

“The gala. Yes, right.” He cleared his throat, not thinking twice as he took your hand. “Let’s go.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You felt all the eyes on you as he took you around the dance floor. The whispers. Lando Norris’ wife who he liked to keep hidden away. Apparently most people hadn’t even known he was married. They thought you were just a new date till they saw the blinding diamond on your finger and his matching gold one.

You felt stiff. Too perceived.

But he lightly took hold of your chin between his fingers, making you look at him.

“It’s just you and me, love.”

Love. You felt equally reassured and nauseous.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Lando was using every excuse he could to touch you. Hand splaying on the small of your back where your dress dipped low. Fingers lightly brushing the back of your neck as he talked to the other guests. Hand on your thigh beneath the table. When he’d first done it you jumped slightly and his heart skipped a beat when you looked at him, eyes low, before turning away again and taking a sip of your wine.

He couldn’t help it as his lips pulled back slightly when he began to rub circles with his thumb, feeling the muscles of your leg tighten. But you leaned toward him, an invitation. He felt more drunk off of you than any wine he had been drinking.

He’d only see glimpses of your father. Lingering to the side of the ballroom walls. Whispering in corners with other greedy men. His eyes always on you, though.

Lando didn’t like it. Then again he never liked anything enough for that to be a fair test. But he knew never to ignore his intuition, so he took your hand in his and tugged you along until you were outside, the cold December air twirling around them.

You shivered as you waited for the valet to pull his McLaren around, blushing a bit when he draped his jacket over your shoulders. Or maybe it was just the wind, he wasn’t sure. But he’d liked to think he made you flustered.

The engine purred as he drove away, feeling your eyes on him as city lights flicked back.

“Why’d we leave early?” You finally asked.

His grip adjusted on the steering heel, looking in the rearview mirror, always vigilant. He hadn’t realised till now that going public made you a target. Made him vulnerable.

“Just wanted to,” is all he offered. Not wanting to scare you. He knew you already had a difficult time adjusting to his world. Then again he shouldn’t cut you any credit. Growing up with your father couldn’t have been any easier.

You hummed, not believing him. Your eyes finally pulled away to stare out the window. Letting him relax. It was strange, having somebody for the first time see him. The thought was equally relieving and terrifying.

When they pulled up to the house the car fell quiet, a heavy silence falling over like a blanket. He wanted to say more to you, but what? This was all new territory and the thought of messing up this bridge he’d built—

“Lando.”

He turned, looking at you as moonlight painted your skin through the window.

You reached forward, hand taking his, “I know you’ll keep me safe.” Another pause and you played with his wedding ring. “I trust you.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

A loud thud woke you up, your heart beating erratically as your door handle began to move. Thankful that you had locked it but fear was still crawling up your spine. You were just about to reach for your phone to call someone for help when a ragged voice poured out from the other side, weakly saying your name. The sound of a body slumping to the floor.

Lando.

You quickly tore off the sheets, stumbling a bit in the dark and you yanked your door open. A hand flying up to your mouth as you took in the state of him. Bruised and slick with blood, one arm wrapped around his rib cage, his breath rattling.

His eyes cracked open, gleaming in the low lamp light of the hall. His lips pulling back in a bloodied grin.

“Hello, darling.”

“Oh my god,” you did your best to get him up, almost falling under his weight as you maneuvered him to your bathroom. “What happened?”

Your heart lurched as Lando coughed, turning his head to spit out some blood into the bin and he sat himself up on the sink. Wincing as he did so. Not answering you.

“Lando,” you said quietly, afraid that even loud noises would hurt him and you gently took hold of his face in your hands. Not caring blood and dirt would get on them. Gently running your thumbs along his cheek bones.

He seemed to melt into you, letting his head fall forward and rest against yours as you brushed the damp curls back. Seeing him like this was a new kind of pain you never wanted to experience again.

“Who did this to you?” Although your voice was gentle, there was a layer of conviction under it that even surprised you.

He sighed, a wheeze coming up from the back of his throat and his hands came up to hold onto your wrists. You didn’t miss his cracked and bleeding knuckles.

“I have a duty of care,” he muttered.

Your father. You felt like throwing up.

Gently pulling his head forward, you held him to you. Letting his heartbeat bring some life back into you. He was okay. He was here. He came back to you. Everything would be fine.

Slowly, Lando’s arms wrapped around you, holding you as tight as he could.

“I’m going to kill him,” you mumbled into his hair and he laughed, not caring that it hurt.

He leaned his head back slightly, eyes flicking between your own and your lips. His hand that had snaked up to the back of your neck pulling you in slightly. Hesitant. Then all at once.

Mouths colliding, a kiss that felt like a tuning fork struck against a star.

His fingers twined in your hair and you tried to be gentle with him. As much as you could. But the feeling of finally was making you feel weightless. Reckless. Desperate as he held you tighter.

You felt high as he whispered the words my wife between kisses.

“So much for a marriage of convenience,” you managed after you pulled away. You didn’t want to, but he needed your help.

He smiled again, those dimples you loved so much deepening in his cheeks. “Nah,” he said lightly. “I think this will be a marriage of inconvenience.”

And he kissed you again.

taglist: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @c8lap1nto @ashbone

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Regret |8|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Tara stood at the back of an ambulance as you got checked over. You didn’t seem in too bad of shape, you actually managed to not get stabbed this time. Tara crossed her arms as she waited for you, they were surrounded by cops and ambulances, this was where she should feel the safest but given that she didn’t know who she could trust she wasn’t awarded that comfort.

Her eyes darted back and forth from Sam off to the side talking to Danny, to Chad next to the ambulance Mindy was getting patched up in. Anika had been there in her own ambulance, but the medics decided her wounds were too severe and rushed her off to the hospital. Tara wanted to think that Anika would be safe in the hospital, away from all the craziness, but she knew better than anyone that just because someone was in the hospital didn’t mean they were safe.

Tara’s attention fully snapped back to you when she overheard you thanking the medic. You slipped off the gurney and hopped out the back of the ambulance. Tara made sure to raise her hands when you landed, she didn’t know exactly what happened in the apartment, but it was clear you were hurting.

Tara wrapped an arm around your waist, partly because she wanted to help you keep more weight than necessary off your knee, but mostly because she didn’t want to let you go. Back in the apartment you didn’t even hesitate to push her behind you and towards the door, the first thing that crossed your mind in a moment of crisis wasn’t your own safety but hers. She loved that about you, she truly did, but she really needed to have a talk with you about putting yourself in danger. Tara knows you want to protect her, but she needed to put her foot down, if you were going to be all heroic and self-sacrificing then she was going to be by your side.

The two of you had only walked a few steps when Tara noticed just how much you were limping. She could feel the muscles in your back tensing up with every step. “Are you okay?” she asked. “What happened up there?”

You slowed to a stop, wincing one more time before leaning into her. You looked around as if you were afraid someone was going to overhear whatever it was you had to say. “When I tried to stop him from getting Anika, he kicked me in my knee,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear so only she could hear.

Tara furrowed her brow. A whole new rage was burning inside her, she couldn’t believe Ghostface did that. Well, she could, but that didn’t change the fact that if she ever got her hands on him, she would tear him apart. She looked up when she realized you were looking at her expectantly. She had a feeling she missed the point of what you said for some reason, but she wasn’t exactly sure what her takeaway was supposed to be.

“He knew I was injured,” you whispered. Tara mentally slapped herself, not many people knew about your injury, that you still struggled with it so much. That meant Ghostface was either stalking all of them and saw you or he was in the friend group and paid much more attention to everyone than anyone thought.

“Who do you think it was?” Tara asked. She herself didn’t have any ideas, everyone, besides you and Sam, was a suspect. You experienced Ghostface up close though, to close for comfort if someone were to ask Tara. If you fought him, if you got close enough then there was a chance you felt something, something to determine if he was in fact a he, or if you picked up on something like the way he moved or talked.

You opened your mouth to answer but your head snapped up just as Tara whipped around at the sound of a loud bang. Tara released a breath; it had just been Chad slamming Ethan against one of the vans. She should probably be worried about Chad’s quick response to violence but given what was going on she couldn’t say she actually cared.

She couldn’t hear exactly what was being said but it was clear Chad was questioning Ethan and accusing him of potentially being Ghostface. Tara tilted her head, she never suspecting Ethan of anything, the only reason she hung out with him was because he was Chad’s roommate. He wasn’t the worst company by any means, she was just kind of quiet and awkward, sometimes he would have good taste in movies, otherwise he was just there. She couldn’t picture Ethan as some psycho killer, but then again there was a point in time she would have said the same thing about Amber.

Ethan weakly defended himself by saying he was in his night class. Tara honestly didn’t know if he was telling the truth, she didn’t know his schedule, she didn’t even know what his major was. Ethan was insistent in his denial, he even told Chad to ask the people from his class, which could speak of his innocence, or it spoke of how cocky he was. Night classes were rather popular, she didn’t know how big Ethan’s class was but there was a high chance that if Ethan skipped class no one would even notice.

Chad gave Ethan one final shove into the van before walking back over to Mindy. Tara’s eyes lingered on Ethan as he fixed his sweatshirt and looked around at the chaos as if he were a lost puppy. If he was Ghostface he sure was doing a good job at pretending to be clueless.

Your entire body tensed underneath Tara’s touch, making her furrow her brow at what could have possibly caused such a reaction. You weren’t looking at her though, you were looking straight ahead at something else. When Tara turned to see what you were looking at, she couldn’t contain her eyeroll as she saw Gale Weathers running up to the two of you.

“Are you okay?” Gale asked, looking at you with the most concern Tara had ever seen. “I came as soon as I heard.”

“Don’t you ever give it a rest?” Tara snapped.

“I’m not here to start anything. Truce,” Gale raised her hands in defense.

“Bullshit,” Sam said, coming up behind them. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to help.” Gale’s eyes darted to you. Tara wasn’t Gale’s biggest fan by any means, but she had a feeling wanting to help catch this Ghostface wasn’t the only reason Gale was there now. “Off the record,” Gale rolled her eyes.

Sam crossed her arms and shared a look with Tara. She still didn’t want to trust Gale, especially with how she’s treated you but Gale willing to help out off the record was definitely a start. “Fine,” Sam sighed, although a little reluctantly.

Gale looked at you, as if she were waiting for you to say something. You had yet to look Gale in the eye. Tara couldn’t even imagine what was going through your head. Besides recent selfish behavior she used to be able to read you better than anyone, when she opened her eyes, it seemed to be going back to that, except when it came to Gale. You already didn’t talk about Dewey but somehow you talked about Gale even less, Tara truly wasn’t sure where your mind was in regards to Gale.

“I see my present came in handy,” Gale said, giving an awkward smile as if it would help break the ice with you.

You still didn’t look at Gale as you lightly nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Thanks for that.”

Tara looked from you to Gale and then back again. Her eyes widen as she came to the realization. “That’s where the gun game from?” she shouted.

Your mouth fell open, but nothing came out. Tara could practically see your brain spinning trying to come up with an answer. When you first came out of the apartment she didn’t notice the gun, she was too busy being relieved you were alive. When she did notice the gun, she didn’t get a chance to ask about it as you were being dragged to an ambulance. She knew Gale gave you a present, but you put it under the bed and that was that, she never even knew you opened let alone that it was a gun.

“The less people that knew about it the better,” Same said.

Tara slowly turned her head to her sister. “You knew?” she turned back to you, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. “You told her and not me?”

You began opening and closing your mouth again. “I need to stay on her good side,” you defended weakly.

Tara just gave a small hum at the reveal. She knew that if you hadn’t told Sam and Sam later discovered it, she would have been pissed. She still couldn’t believe you never even told her though; it’s not like she would have told anyone; she knew how to keep a secret. That being said, Tara also couldn’t say you were wrong in keeping the gun a secret, no one else knowing was probably why you were able to catch Ghostface off guard. If the others had known she was sure you’d go for the case only to find it empty in your moment of need.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group as Bailey walked up to everyone. He wiped his eyes from where he had been crying over his daughters’ body. “They took me off the case,” he said. “But that’s not going to stop me.” Tara had never seen such a rage burning behind someone’s eyes. “You fuck with my family, you die.”

“Hey,” Kirby greeted as she walked up to the group. Tara assumed she had to have just arrived because she hadn’t seen her before then.

“Kirby?” Gale asked, her eyes wide. Tara wasn’t sure how it was possible, but it seemed Gale hadn’t known Kirby was in town. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m in the FBI now,” Kirby smirked.

Gale rolled her eyes. “Then you’ll probably want to hear this too.” Tara scrunched her eyebrows together at what Gale could possibly want them all to hear. “It’s about the first victims; I found where the masks are coming from.”

Tara’s eyes widened. It was clear the masks Ghostface was leaving behind were the actual masks from the previous attacks. She didn’t know how anyone could possibly get their hands on those, but it seemed as though they had.

Tara barely listened as Gale went over everything. They were all going to go see what Gale discovered but Tara couldn’t take her mind off of you. She didn’t know where Gale was taking them or what they would find there, the only thing that Tara knew was that she didn’t intend to leave your side again.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrryxcx @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

[gaytricorder]

yeah, there’s tons of scenes in tos that allude to spock and kirk’s friendship being something more. like scenes where you have to ask, “what was the point in showing that other than to point out that they feel more for each other outside the parameters of a platonic friendship?”

shatner was directly asked in an interview, “why do fans see this potential homosexual relationship between spock and kirk?” and shatner gave some blasé answer like, “oh, people just don’t know how to interpret an intimate male/male friendship other than seeing it as homosexual” which i disagree with but maybe shatner just didn’t entertain the speculations—or just didn’t care—enough to dispel them or address them in anyway. and ofc shatner has even played into the rumors by being overly touchy with nimoy or saying that “he loves him but they’re both married so no one can know about that.” i honestly think he’s never really minded people shipping spirk, he just thinks it’s amusing and being true to shatner, he makes a joke out of it.

regarding the character of bones, most of his scenes do seem to be written to further the relationship between spock and kirk or to point out spock’s alien-like responses to certain emotional situations. one scene in particular i love is where dr m’benga is working to save spock’s life and jim is glaring at him working on spock. bones walks over to jim and reassures him that m’benga is experienced with vulcan healing and there’s no reason for jim to be anxious over him working on spock. it even goes so far as to show bones rolling his eyes in response to kirk’s possessive/anxious behavior as he’s observing spock and m’benga.

funnily enough, i don’t think i’ve seen an interview where nimoy is asked directly what are his thoughts on spirk? if someone knows of him being asked about it, please feel free to share i’d love to see it tee hee. i know in one of his books he does talk about why some women sexualized spock and basically his response is he doesn’t mind in the slightest.

but the spock/kirk dynamic—for example, like you’ve shown in the dagger of the mind ep, it’s going back to “why did they feel the need to include this reaction from spock?” one scene i don’t see people talk about is a fairly overt annoyed/jealous reaction from kirk in the ep this side of paradise where a potential love interest is introduced for spock and kirk seems annoyed by her and spock’s interaction, so he immediately says something along the lines of, “yes, well, we have a job to do so let’s stop making goo goo eyes at each other and get back to it.”

just going back to… why did they include that reaction from kirk and no one else? lmao

i do think in tos the female characters could’ve been more fleshed out and their relationships with the crew explored more but alas, it was the 60s and it seems most of the focus was on spock and kirk. i haven’t watched the aos movies but i know there was a relationship between spock and uhura going on which is interesting but i haven’t watched the films to comment on it further

that’s all i have to say i guess yippee

star trek used to be about gays in space

now they just make Spock kiss women

[mamawasatesttube]

man... "time machine" by autoheart has me pondering the agonies. like fuck rebirth not doing that, but. a situation in which via magic or something, everyone [temporarily] forgets kon rebirth style. and he has to deal with that. and oops! what's that? oh it's just his suicidal tendencies coming back in FULL force, haha.

like its devastating enough when his friends don't remember him. but john henry? ma kent? clark?

what's he supposed to do with himself now? he has nothing and no one. he knows what he was made for, though. he wants to die a hero. he wants to die a hero. it won't hurt anyone this time because they forgot they love him. why is he here? he's a hero. he wants to die a hero. except heroes are remembered even after they die. what are you when no one remembers you, other than "dead twice over"? and you keep thinking of how unfair it is that the first time you died it hurt everyone you love. and now they forgot you so you may as well be dead. you kind of wish you stayed dead.

so he's not exactly taking it well. and of course ma and clark take it in stride when he shows up at the farm in distress. maybe it's a case of inadvertent dimension travel or something, clark muses, stroking his chin. and kon looks at the notch on the leg of the sofa that krypto accidentally scratched while wrestling on the floor with kon three months ago and says, haha yeah. maybe.

BUT! this time all the discrepancies and all the little things that don't add up? they're the point. kon gets to go to centennial park and point at his statue next to clark and say look. look, i'm real. i lived. you loved me. i died. i'm real. i'm real. i'm real.

and i think clark gets really quiet at that point. and then he's devastated. and furious. because he has a little brother/son/cousin/Little Guy. and someone robbed him of all of his memories of him. he has so few kryptonian family members and someone took one of them from him in the most raw, horrific way possible. they took his little guy from him so thoroughly he isn't even grieving. and isn't that in itself a horror? that there's no grief where he knows grief should be?

and i think kon here just kind of sticks Hard to clark's side at this point. if anyone remembered him or the people he loved, they'd find it odd and notable how conspicuously he's avoiding tim, bart, and cassie. unfortunately, no one knows him anymore, so no one notices. but kon just can't face the complete lack of warmth in their faces when they look at him. and it feels like far too much to explain "sorry, you don't know me, but you're supposed to love me. i love you and it's tearing me apart." so he just needs as much space as he can get.

(there's definitely a subplot of tim's nosy ass going "hey bruce, who was that guy with superman and steel at the jla meeting? what was that about? he looked a lot like superman huh?? hey bruce what's up with that guy? hey bruce what's going on--" and bruce, a paranoid asshole on the best of days, just going "i don't trust him." but tim is a nosy little ferret who will not be deterred and quite possibly pulls bart and cassie in on trying to investigate the guy who looks like superman but isn't superman.)

(however, for some reason, the guy who looks like superman but isn't superman seems to want absolutely nothing to do with the three of them. isn't that weird??)

anyways it has to have a happy ending where the curse is lifted or whatever and everyone gets their memories back and kon gets to have an incredibly cathartic breakdown into ma's lap. but probably not before he nearly gets himself killed at least 4 times first. oops!

[btswit7]

Naked cuddles

JJK ONESHOT

Pairing: bf jk/ gf reader

Wc: 809

Warning: talks about the female character having big breasts, fluff.

A/n: so I am @gukksweets7 I had to delete that Tumblr for some personal reason but I just forgot to make all the posts private before deleting that account so I might post all those fics here or maybe not.

For now enjoy this small oneshot as I was really having trouble getting started after a month.

The apartment is cozy as always. Finally after dinner when you go to rest on the bed the only thing that goes on your head is when Jungkook will come into the room and you'll get to cuddle him.

It's hard for you to wait. Currently, you are lying on your side of the bed all alone, waiting for Jungkook to come in from his gym which is in the house.

The creaking sound of the door snaps your head towards it knowing who it can be.

“ You didn't sleep yet?” The voice comes as Jungkook walks a few steps closer allowing you to look at him as his body gets illuminated by the small table lamp which is on.

He is only wearing his sweatpants. His buffy, sweaty chest on full display but right now you want something else.

“ Kook, go quickly, take a shower and come” you say knowing well he won't sleep before showering.

“ Why?” He asks with mischief in his eyes as he bends down towards you on the bed. His face is so close to yours.

You place both your hands on either of his cheeks, later placing a peck on his lips, you say, “ please, can I get cuddles?”

“ Awhhh.. definitely, coming soon” he coos and then proceeds to go to the bathroom.

It's been 20 minutes since Jungkook has entered the bathroom. The sound of the shower keeps coming from the attached bathroom to the room. But, you are fast asleep. You were very tired after your office so of course you couldn't keep up for long when you were lying on the bed itself.

Suddenly a pair of arms wrap around you, who is lying on her stomach, you get pulled in a warm embrace.

The light smell of shampoo, shaving cream and body wash fills your senses and the press of his cold skin to our body is enough to get you up.

“ Sorry sweetheart, didn't mean to wake you up” Jungkook says from beside you as your back is attached to his front.

Some time passes by in silence, just you both lying there. You are not sure how to ask but you want to ask. The last thing he could do is… deny.

“ Jungkook..” you call out for him to which he replies with a hum, his face buried in your hair.

“I was thinking about cuddling upper naked for a while.. uh so what do you think about it?” no response comes from him for a while. It was when you started regretting asking him that you heard him giggle.

“ How long have you been willing to do this?” He asks while turning you towards him.

“ I was not sure.. it was in my mind for a few days now” you say while copying his smile.

“ It's you who needs to get upper naked, I already am upper naked” he says giggling again.

“ Uhh yeah..” you say before holding onto your shirt and opening them in a go later putting it somewhere on the bed.

You meet Jungkook’s eyes while he meets yours, the giggle on his face vanishing somewhere replaced by him gulping. Although Jungkook has many times seen you naked but it's his first time he is holding you while you are just in your shorts, in his bed beside him.

You feel a sudden boost of confidence in you when you see how frozen he has gotten. You sit straight on the bed. Putting both of your legs on either side of his body.

Each of your hands hold his and slowly you let your chest meet his chest.

“ Ahhh… fuck” suddenly Jungkook welps all this being too much for him and that too coming from you!? Where is his innocent y/n?

You giggle and then place your head on the nape of his neck taking in his scent. His cold body from the shower is connected to your warm body. Jungkook seems to be frozen, his heartbeat so fast as you can literally hear him because of your head being attached to his chest.

“ Do you like it, kook?” You ask when you feel his hand slowly pat your bare back.

Heaven

“ Like? Y/n I love it, I never thought this would feel so heavenly” Jungkook says.

“ I never thought your boobs would feel so good against my chest, this is the best cuddle position of ours” Jungkook further adds, making you giggle but you have something more in your mind.

You lips place them on his neck softly sucking in his necks and peppering his neck with soft light kisses as more moans leave past his lips.

“ Wait– I will get turned on if you continue” he says as if you didn't know.

“ Shut up idiot and go to sleep” you say as you press yourself more in his body.

[pascalislove]

ANGEL: SALESMAN X FEM!READER- PART 5

Summary: She was an angel and she should be his.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and toasted bread filled the small café in the corner, a cozy haven where Y/N often spent her break time. She was sitting by the window, absently stirring the sugar in her coffee while her mind tried to ignore the annoying feeling of restlessness that had accompanied her since the morning.

The meeting in the bookstore with that man... that strange, arrogant and mysterious man, had left her with a bad taste in her mouth. His brazenness irritated her, but she was even more bothered by the way he seemed to enjoy teasing her.

She sighed, shaking her head.

—It's not worth thinking about— she muttered to herself, raising the cup to her lips.

But just as she was about to take a sip, she felt a shadow looming over her table. She looked up and her stomach clenched.

He.

With his impeccable dark suit and that damn confident smile, the man settled into the chair in front of her without even asking permission.

Y/N snorted in annoyance and rolled her eyes.

—There are several tables available.

He rested one arm on the table, his expression relaxed.

—I like this one better.

Y/N narrowed her eyes.

—¿Oh, yes?

—From here you can see the people —he said, pointing to the window with a slight nod of his head.

Y/N crossed her arms and looked at him with obvious displeasure..

—If you wait for me to call you, it's not going to happen.

He smiled, as if he had expected that answer.

—I'm not in a hurry.

—Well you're wasting your time.

The man tilted his head slightly, a look of amusement in his dark eyes.

—Sooner or later, you will be mine.

Y/N felt a chill run down her spine. Not out of fear, but because of the coldness with which he said it, as if it were an inevitable fact, as if her destiny was written and he was simply waiting for her to realize it.

But instead of being intimidated, Y/N held his gaze defiantly.

—If that's your way of flirting, you're failing hugely.

He gave a low, almost imperceptible laugh.

—¿Do you really believe it?

—With all certainty.

The man rested his chin on his hand and looked at her carefully.

—I wonder... what kind of man would catch your attention?

Y/N shrugged.

—One that doesn't show up uninvited.

—Oh. So you don't like spontaneity.

—Not when it comes from someone like you.

He smiled, as if each of her responses only entertained him more.

—You're interesting, Y/N.

—And you are annoying.

—That depends on perspective.

Y/N exhaled in frustration.

—Look, I don't know what you want with me, but you should find someone else to play with.

He shook his head slowly.

—I don't want anyone else.

His tone was low, almost intimate, and for some reason, that made her more uncomfortable than his previous provocations.

—I'm not interested in what you want.

—Still.

Y/N frowned.

—¿What?

He sat up straight and picked up his cup of coffee, taking a sip as if he were enjoying small talk.

—You're not interested yet. But the day will come when I do.

Y/N pursed her lips.

—¿Why are you so sure?

He looked directly at her.

—Because when something interests me, I don't let it go.

His response sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N looked down at her coffee, trying to ignore the way her heart raced.

—You should learn to accept no.

—I'm not one of those who accept no without trying several times.

She looked up, glaring at him.

—Well, you're going to get tired.

He smiled.

—I don't believe it.

There was a heavy silence between the two. Y/N hated to admit it, but the man's confidence was disturbingly hypnotic.

There was something about him, in the way he spoke, in his relaxed but imposing posture, that made it difficult to ignore him.

But she wouldn't give up that easily.

She grabbed her bag and stood up.

—Enjoy your coffee.

The man watched her get up, making no effort to stop her.

—We'll see you soon, Y/N.

She paused for a second, not looking at him, and then left the cafeteria without answering.

But deep down, she knew he was right.

That would not be their last meeting.

This story does not follow the plot of the series, tell me if you like it and if you want me to tag you in the chapters🫶

Tag list:

@beebeechaos, @onyxmango , @muchwita @czarinera , @putrescentpoet

MASTERLIST

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — golden hours, golden hearts : chapter 034 !

the warm scent of something savory filled your apartment, mingling with the soft hum of the stovetop. you leaned against the counter, watching as sae moved effortlessly in your kitchen, sleeves rolled up, focused on whatever he was making.

"a special meal, just for the special lady," he had said when you asked what he was doing. you hadn't pressed further, just enjoying the rare sight of him doing something so domestic.

"i didn't know you could cook," you mused, propping your chin on your hand.

sae glanced at you, unimpressed. "i'm not useless."

you laughed. "yeah? never said you were, though."

he didn't respond, just plated the dish. it was something simple, but it smelled incredible. setting it in front of you, he nudged the chopsticks toward you.

"eat."

you picked up the chopsticks, taking a bite, without much expectation, but the moment the flavors hit your tongue, your brows lifted in surprise. "this is actually good."

"obviously," he scoffed, but there was the tiniest twitch at the corner of his lips. was he pleased?

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading through your chest had nothing to do with the food. there was something oddly endearing about seeing him like this. relaxed, in your space, cooking for you.

"alright, chef itoshi," you teased, taking another bite. "you've officially impressed me."

his eyes flickered to you, acting uninterested, but you caught the way his fingers drummed idly against the counter, like he was holding back a reaction. “took you long enough,” he muttered.

you smiled. “so, what’s the occasion? feeling generous today?”

he tilted his head. “you snuck out of the lv fashion show just to hang out with me. i figured i should at least feed you.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. “in my own apartment? wasn't this your idea? is this your way of saying thank you?”

“sure,” he said, though his tone was too casual, like he didn’t want to confirm or deny it outright. typical sae.

you shook your head, amused, and nudged the plate toward him. “well, since you cooked, you should eat too.”

he raised an eyebrow, hesitating for just a moment before finally sitting down next to you. without a word, he picked up his own chopsticks and took a bite, chewing slowly.

but you caught it, that slight nod of approval, the way he barely hummed under his breath.

you smiled. “good?”

he shot you a flat look. “obviously.”

the two of you ate in a quiet rhythm, the occasional clink of chopsticks against plates the only sound breaking the stillness of your apartment.

it was… nice. surprisingly so.

you hadn’t expected to feel this comfortable with him, but something about tonight felt different.

and then, without realizing it, you found yourself just watching him.

the way his lashes cast faint shadows against his skin, the way he moved with that same effortless precision he had on the field. even something as simple as eating. he made it look composed. but here, in the glow of your kitchen, with the faint scent of food lingering in the air, he seemed more human. less of the unreachable prodigy the world saw him as, and more of just sae.

and that thought lingered a little too long.

because if you let yourself think about it, really think about it, you’d have to admit that maybe, just maybe, you had a crush on him.

after dinner, the two of you ended up on the couch, the weight of the night settling into something easy, something almost peaceful. the only sounds were the faint hum of the city outside and the quiet rhythm of your breathing. sae sat beside you, legs stretched out, his arm lazily draped along the back of the couch. his presence was familiar, but for some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.

you tried to ignore it.

you tried to focus on the random movie playing on your tv, even though neither of you were really watching.

you tried to pretend that your heart didn’t pick up its pace every time he shifted just the slightest bit closer.

“you’re quiet,” he noted, breaking the silence.

you blinked, turning your head to look at him. “huh?”

“you’ve been staring at the screen for the past twenty minutes, but i don’t think you’ve actually processed a single thing.”

you scoffed. “that’s rich, coming from you.”

he exhaled a small laugh, barely there, but you caught it. when you glanced at him again, you noticed the way his eyes lingered on you.

something inside you tensed.

“do you ever overthink things?” you found yourself asking.

sae raised an eyebrow. “no.”

you sighed. “figures.”

a smirk tugged at his lips, but before you could roll your eyes at him, he shifted suddenly, his hand moving too fast and too smooth and flicked your forehead.

you jerked back, startled. “ow, what the hell?”

“you’re thinking too much,” he said simply, as if that justified the unprovoked attack.

“you-” you were about to throw a pillow at him, but then he laughed again, barely a breath of amusement, and suddenly, all your frustration disappeared.

because hell, that laugh did something to you.

maybe it was the exhaustion. or the fact that the walls you had carefully built between you and him had slowly been wearing down all night. or maybe it was because, for once, it didn’t feel like you had to overanalyze everything. it was just the two of you, here, now. and that realization made something snap inside you.

so when you turned to him fully, you didn’t think twice before shoving at his shoulder, only for him to grab your wrist, pulling you toward him with little effort.

you barely had time to react before his lips were on yours.

your breath hitched as he kissed you, his fingers tightening around your wrist for half a second before releasing it, letting you make the choice to stay, to kiss him back. and God, you did. you leaned in, your hands finding his shirt, gripping it like you needed to hold onto something.

chapter 033 > here > chapter 035

taglist is open ! <3

back to golden hours, golden hearts

a/n: i, in fact, did not cook smth tmrw like i said a few days ago so here's an apology kiss i guess ...

taglist: @darling-dearesttt @ffleurist @yuukiririix @sof888a @beepbopzlorp @luvrrin @narcjsistx @catukin @megumismyhusband @morgyyyyyyy @levihanmyotp @kaz-0e @nensi @vaelils @loverryxx @kunascutie @swagkittybear @alexiaray @kaidostwin @pookiei-bookie @syarc0re @vayahatesu @yangx2isawhore @pinkfqiry @treeguzzler @shumeow-h @modxbea @90s-belladonna @rory-cakes @sapph1r3x @yuiearyi @pctterheadd @thecallofmedusa @whisperofae @belovedfedya @anqelkoz @yukari1k @dontmindtheevie @pookalicious-hq @pan-kojiwa @spookysoowpprince @mivqko @chuuyalvover @viviinpt @h1sllvr @luvvmae @renchai @yourlocaleffy @x3nafix @saeglazer

[ranwan-love]

Messages from "SHUNYA"

Aka lord shiva.

Hi dear kind people who came across this post of mine. I hope you all are enjoying pink of your life. I originally made this for Maha Shivaratri but due to some reason it stayed only in my drafts. Later on some good things happened 🥹, synchronicities too so I was called out to post this anyway even after festival is gone.

So you can take this reading as messages from lord shiva, divine father, universe or void as it's all same for me and i did reading from same energy.

I hope you endless growth and love, now close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose your pile!!

^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^^⁠_⁠__⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^

Pile One

Cards: Queen of wands, six of wands, The empress

Hi dear Pile One. Welcome to your reading. Your energy is really passionate so let's dive in your reading. So first of all i saw top of mountain while channeling. Okay so according to messages I got I want to first acknowledge that you are a queen. You are already way ahead than you think. There are chances you already know that. But might be confused to change in your power, path. It seems like you are kinda curious about it because it seems unexpected. This is rather small change in your energy or surroundings which would definitely ignite a strong fire for you to discover more. Other than this everything seems fine in your element, growth, magnetism, sensual and knowing what you want. But this small change is taking you to a movement. Movement towards something better. It seems like a journey which is full of compassion, progress. It might be due to some Collab or actual travel with your people. You are being a empress from queen. Funny how cards came out which are related to spring and summer and this reading will be up during spring only. So there are chances it will start during spring and upcoming summer months. You know what I am getting so much attracted to queen card over empress and keep thinking if this queen will be empress how blessed people and her community will be. So you just don't have potential to be an empress but one of best empress.

This small change could be change in some sort of passion of yours or thought. I don't feel it's something that huge that will affect your 3D rather than your 4D which would put you in alignment to recieve more. I think you have plans to do something for people too. So just do it. You will be helped in it because it's a fated event.

^⁠_⁠_⁠__⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^^⁠_⁠_⁠__⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^

Pile Two

Cards: Seven of cups, Seven of swords, Ace of cups

Okay Pile two, along with Lord Shiva I guess your guides are present here too. What are you doing these days? Because I feel you are just daydreaming. Like I personally think day dreamers have great imagination and ability to visualise, they can probably manifest easily as well. But problem here is that you are not using your this ability for any good. You are decieting your own potential and probably betraying your younger self as well. It's like you can't even face yourself. If you have good potential but why are you wasting it so much. There's so much going on here at mental level, too much fantasy and material. It's like even if you keep daydreaming about good stuff it's not manifesting in 3D because first there's too much chaos, second your thoughts and emotions don't align. It's like you have good imagination, strong emotions but probably negative thoughts. I will say it clear that sit with yourself or you will accidentally manifest something you don't want or increase the thing which you are escaping from. You are being suggested here to ground yourself like meditate, walk on earth barefeet. Than journal, journal all you want, like first journal out emotions or excessive thoughts you are having or the ones making you restless. Then note down things you probably desire things you can do on your behalf, what needs to let go, what's taking your energy. It's like almost energy of"write till you can't". Because this reading should have been small but i keep auto writting out of control. So write till your head calms down and you ground. Like taking needed actions and working on the messages is taking you to energy of unconditional love and everlasting compassion aka Ace of cups. It will manifest both inside you and your outside world. You might also develope something in 3D which will keep giving you long term abundance.

^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠__⁠_⁠_⁠^^⁠__⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠__⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^

Pile Three

Cards: Queen of wands, Ace of pentacles, king of wands

Wassup my sexy Pile Three. First thing I channeled here was union. It can be union of yin yang inside you, or some kind of actual union with a partner or mate. If it includes other person just know that this person is exactly same as you. I don't know how to give words to it but you see you have to be equal when you are going through divine union. There's possibility this can be someone who will give you a collab or work related offer. It can be creative in nature. So if it's your own energies coming in union just know that you are manifesting something big. Almost a whole new path of abundance especially financial abundance. This time will make you pretty busy but focused with you work. Whatever will be created as a result of union the world is going to look upto it because it seems kinda big. To be honest it doesn't even seem in distant future or a long journey rather a walk to stage where you are being rewarded for what you have already done. This could possibly be result of co-creating with universe. It's like you did your work and let go. Universe did it work and here it's coming to finalizing. This is such a beautiful energy of abundance. It almost feels like you are manifesting here and there. Congratulations pile Three Good for you. It's a well deserved prize.

Okay did anyone came here from pile Two. I want to say if you feel like you are not in this energy now trust me you are doing alot of things you don't realise. If not now this energy is there for you in upcoming two-three months.

^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠__⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠__⁠_⁠_⁠^^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠__⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^

I hope your chosen piles resonated with you. Please take actions on your guidance as well.

Do let me know how much of my reading resonated with you all. It will mean alot.

Genuine gratitude from depth of my heart🤎✨

[lurkingshan]

Theory of Love Episode 5: 10 Things I Hate About You

We have hit a stretch of actually good movies, and I'm so grateful. This week we got to revisit one of my old favorites, a gem of the modern Shakespeare adaption pantheon: 10 Things I Hate About You. Here's the plot, in brief:

Cameron transfers to a new high school and instantly falls for Bianca, a girl whose father notoriously won't let her date and has just set a new rule: she can only start dating when her older sister Kat does. Kat is known as "difficult" and anti-social, so Cameron and his buddy cook up a scheme to recruit resident "bad boy" Patrick to date her, using the asshole popular guy Joey as a stooge to pay him. Patrick falls for Kat for real in the course of this scheme, Kat eventually finds out he lied to her, and things blow up before we cut to the happy resolution.

It was fun to revisit this movie, which has a really solid narrative underpinning its many hilarious lines (shoutout to the Bard). It holds up pretty well, minus some trappings of the era that led to the inevitable casual ableism and homophobia, and it was a real pleasure to see Heath Ledger on my screen again. The main problem with this film is that the resolution comes too easily: after only one minor argument when Kat uncovers the Big Lie, she has a breakdown and forgives Patrick for tricking her without making him suffer at all, and the other dudes who were involved in deceiving her don't even acknowledge their part in it, let alone atone. Unsatisfying!

Re-watching Theory of Love, I wonder if the creators felt the same way about the lack of real atonement and growth on Patrick's part, because boy are they going to make damn sure Khai pays for every mistake he makes in this first half of the story. That begins this week with Third distancing himself from Khai in the wake of learning about the scheme Khai and Bone ran on him to test his feelings. But of course, Khai doesn't know Third overheard him and Third won't tell him why he's mad, so the two of them circle each other in this episode getting increasingly frustrated as they fail to communicate and Third tries and fails to go back to treating Khai like a friend.

Because Third is still very hurt and angry, and he can't suppress it or stop himself from lashing out at Khai. He starts off this episode with a very literal task taken from the title of this week's film by making a list of Khai's flaws to try to talk himself out of liking him (he seems to have missed that Kat's poem is not actually about Patrick's flaws, but the opposite--one thing I've learned from this project is that Third is pretty bad at media analysis). Third continues to hold Khai to a totally different standard than everyone else--notice he excuses Bone's own involvement in the scheme that hurt him while holding a firm grudge against Khai and refusing to tell him what he's upset about--so Third overreacts to Khai bringing a date around and acts like a bitch, and Khai doesn't understand why Third is acting this way so he's an even bigger bitch in return. Their fighting in this episode is painful to watch. No one can cut you quite like the person who knows you best.

Khai can't possibly give Third what he wants until Third tells him, but Third is unwilling to talk to him about it. Not that I can really blame Third for that, because Khai is not ready to receive a love confession from his best friend. The whole reason they got into this latest mess is because Khai was determined to prove Third doesn't like him that way. He wants to keep him as his best friend, and the idea that Third might want something different is not welcome. We saw Khai's hurt in this episode when Third suddenly started treating him differently without explaining, we saw him get upset when Third blew up at him for "whoring around" and return his nasty energy, and we saw him regret and go to Third to apologize the next day, because he cares about this friendship. I thought it was interesting that in their fight this episode Khai told Third he's not his "wife." Part of Khai knows exactly what's going on here, and he is not yet ready to admit it to himself. Third doesn't want to be his friend, and that's the heart of the issue.

[saintsenara]

read Scylla and Charybdis today loved it! Very excited to see how it continues. I have a question for you as someone for whom the intricacies of the British class system are still a bit misty. Aren’t Snape and Lily both from Cokeworth? They’re almost neighbors, right? They’re able to run into each other at the swing set after having walked there at age nine or so. So how is it that Lily’s family is sooo much better off financially than Severus’s family? Or is that even true? Would they not have similar accents and similar ignorances at Hogwarts compared with their classmates? And Lily is muggleborn and a woman, so she has those disadvantages to deal with when Severus doesn’t. 

It feels like Severus is taking for granted that his situation is far more difficult than Lily’s. Is that a reasonable assumption on his part, or is he not seeing past the end of his own nose? From where I’m sitting, it seems like he feels so sorry for himself about his (def seems pretty grim) background that he decides to do terrorism about it and he sort of resents Lily for not grasping that. But she has a very similar background as far as I can tell? Or are things really that different a few streets away? Or is it specifically because Severus was raised by his drunk, deadbeat, abusive father that his outlook is so bleak? 

Like yes Lily can afford ice cream and it doesn’t occur to her to treat Severus (Harry is maybe a better friend than she was in some ways?). But being able to afford ice cream kind of looks trivial when compared to the prospect of trying to fit into magical public life after Hogwarts when a looooot of the population seems in agreement with Voldemort that muggleborns should definitely be treated as second class citizens? Kind of like what Remus says about how Harry’s view on his lycanthropy is rose colored by having only seen him under Dumbledore’s protection. Tho on the other hand, there are the muggleborn hiring quotas that Severus would probably point to. 

if the answer is just Yeah Severus is an insightful person but he also has a severe case of sees-what-he-wants-to-see-itis like that’s fine, I just suspect there are some cultural nuances I am missing as an American. 

thank you very much for the ask, pal! i'm delighted you're enjoying scylla and charybdis.

snape and lily's respective class backgrounds are something i've gone into more detail about here, but the summary is that they're both from working-class backgrounds, but that there's a hierarchy of sub-backgrounds - each with its own behavioural nuances - within each class bracket. from an outside perspective - that is to say, from a separate class bracket - these sub-hierarchies might not seem particularly profound, but they matter enormously within their specific brackets.

snape - who lives in victorian slum housing, is visibly destitute, has a father who's presumably unemployed a lot of the time [and who, when he does work, is presumably - since the text really hammers home the connection between his house and the mill - a mill-worker], and has a family who seem to have a reputation for not being respectable [petunia knows who snape is when he first meets lily, and she's clearly been advised not to socialise with his sort…] - is a level of working class below lily. i doubt she comes from a background which is rich by any means. but she was clearly raised in a family which was both much more financially stable and much more socially stable - and, therefore, much more socially respectable.

and these class nuances clearly repeat themselves in the wizarding world [the wizarding class-system - for the doylist reason that jkr didn't want to flesh it out so she just made it the same as the real-world version and the watsonian reason that the way class functions in britain has roots which stretch back well before the statute of secrecy - is a mirror to the muggle one...]

they're just obscured in canon by the fact that so few of the main characters we encounter in the text are working-class. as i've gone into more detail about here, hogwarts is an institution which is pretty homogenous class-wise, but this isn't because the wizarding world is more egalitarian in terms of social class [we meet lots of characters - especially in manual or service roles - who are transparently intended to be understood by the reader as working-class and, therefore, to be understood by the reader as harry's social inferiors], it's because hogwarts exists in order to mould its students into people who conform to the social conventions of the wizarding elite, before it shuffles them off into state jobs to maintain and enforce the class system.

the teenage snape is one of only two students we ever meet - from any blood-category - who looks working-class [the other is hagrid]. he also appears to sound working-class - the swearing which prompts james to wash his mouth out is how the narrative communicates this, while the text's implication that everyone else at hogwarts sounds fairly homogenous is another way the school trains its students to be the elite - and to comport himself in a way which is similarly understood as a bit rough...

and this is very interesting, because it's a manifestation of one of snape's character traits which comes up again and again across the series - that he detests people who have had [or who he perceives to have had] everything handed to them on a plate.

he's not somebody who's naturally deferential - he will defer to people he believes have earned their right to consider themselves his superior [such as voldemort and dumbledore] but he's totally unwilling to defer to people whose only superiority over him comes from things like their class background [hence him responding to sirius implying that he's lucius malfoy's bitch by pointing out that he's actually the one who needs to worry about what lucius could do to him], their connections [hence his "ironic bow" when umbridge is trying to threaten him by referring to his relationship with lucius], their social status [hence literally every interaction he ever has with harry] or their wealth [likewise].

and this results in him being the only hogwarts-educated character we ever meet who doesn't play the class game while at school [voldemort - while he rejects the patron-client dynamic with slughorn which was clearly the only way he'd be allowed to enter the ministry - clearly makes the effort to speak and behave like a pureblood during his teenage years, which is exactly why everyone finds him turning down slughorn's job offers to be so shocking]. but, aged sixteen, the snape we find on the page isn't making any effort to embrace the social conventions which are his only hope of escaping poverty in a world with such a restrictive class system. he wants to become successful on his own merits.

this is a pretty admirable thing, in and of itself. but it gives him a series of absolutely enormous blind spots in his relationship with lily.

because lily does play the game. she's one of slughorn’s favourites, she's one of dumbledore’s favourites, she marries and takes the name of a pureblood man, and when she turns on her working-class friend [which she does for the very, very good reason that he's just called her a slur]... she does so by pointing out her superiority to his poverty.

from snape's perspective, this is class-treachery… but this means that he never bothers thinking about why lily might want to - and, indeed, need to - engage with wizarding society in a more conventional way.

[we also see this in half-blood prince, when harry, ron, and ginny find the idea of hermione attending the slug club to be ridiculous. none of them think for one moment about why a muggleborn woman might want to obtain the support of a well-connected pureblood man who clearly likes her…]

it's clear in canon that the only real way for muggleborns [and for part-humans - all of this also applies to lupin] to give themselves a modicum of protection from a state and a society which regards them as an underclass is to stick as rigidly to respectability politics as they can. they need to cultivate pureblood and half-blood connections and behave in ways which are deemed acceptable by the pureblood world and so on, so that when the state is seeking to oppress them, they have someone ready to defend them as "one of the good ones".

indeed, i'm always struck in deathly hallows that - when the trio infiltrate the ministry - reg cattermole [really ron in disguise] is told the following by yaxley:

"But if my wife were accused of being a Mudblood," said Yaxley, "- not that any woman I married would ever be mistaken for such filth - and the Head of the Department ofMagical Law Enforcement needed a job doing, I would make it my priority to do that job, Cattermole. Do you understand me?" [DH 12]

and this phrasing is really important. because it comes with the implication that being accused of being muggleborn is an accusation which can - on occasion - be beaten.

it's apparent in the text that being accused of being - or found to be - muggleborn [and therefore "guilty" of the "crime" of "stealing magic"] is more likely to happen to you if you're somebody the regime wants out of the way.

we see this in the case of dirk cresswell, who's clearly identified [correctly! we know he is one because slughorn tells us so in half-blood prince] as a muggleborn in order to benefit two men who are death eaters or death eater collaborators...

this bloke:

The wizard leaned toward Harry, leering, and muttered, "Dirk Cresswell, eh? From Goblin Liaison? Nice one, Albert. I'm pretty confident I'll get his job now!" [DH 12]

and runcorn, who would presumably receive some sort of job-related boost for "catching" as many muggleborns as possible:

The lift doors closed and as they clanked down another floor, Mr. Weasley said, "I hear you laid information about Dirk Cresswell." [DH 13]

runcorn is also the person who submits mary cattermole to the commission - and i have always believed that he does this because reg cattermole [who's someone arthur weasley clearly knows reasonably well] is known to have anti-voldemort views...

because hermione says something similar, when she points out to ron that him teaching her his family tree to help her pass as a pureblood would do nothing to protect her from the commission - the reason she's on the list of muggleborns who are wanted for questioning is because of her connection to harry [DH 11].

and ted tonks says that he refused to attend his registration hearing "on principle" [DH 15] - undoubtedly because he's aware that, as the father of an order member and the husband of a blood-traitor whose sister is one of the highest-ranking death eaters, he's someone the regime intends to kill, and he'd like to make doing that as difficult for it as possible...

but there's a subtext to all of these cases. if mary and dirk weren't people the regime regarded as expendable, or if ted and hermione weren't people the regime regarded as enemies, they'd have a chance of being safe. the commission would find some "proof" that they weren't muggleborn.

[perhaps by claiming that muggles traffic magical children and they'd been stolen from their real families, which would also handily stoke anti-muggle sentiment...]

yaxley is telling cattermole that the same thing could happen for his wife… in the right circumstances.

and so the lily of the 1970s is seeking to give herself as many of these right circumstances as possible. she's in the extraordinarily difficult position of wanting to fight voldemort - to the death, if need be - and having to set things up for herself in a way which enables her to keep fighting for as long as possible without attracting either voldemort or the state's ire, and having to deal with the fact that - when the anti-voldemort cause is victorious and the dark lord's dead - she's still going to be at risk from the state because she's a muggleborn.

financial worries are going to be less potent for her - james is wealthy; so is sirius, who she could presumably expect to help support her in a scenario where james was dead or imprisoned or in hiding; her relationship with dumbledore and slughorn could easily be leveraged into a high-flying job - and she's also [very probably] not going to stand out in terms of appearance, behaviour, or understanding of social convention from her hogwarts-educated pureblood and half-blood peers, which enables her - much like lupin - to move through the world without being instantly clocked as a target.

she's also protected - to some degree - by gender conventions. the married women we meet in canon prior to voldemort's defeat [the only exceptions, it seems, are tonks and maybe fleur] all take their husbands' names - and so lily acquiring a pureblood surname for herself offers her an additional, socially expected way to blend in which muggleborn men [or half-blood men with muggle fathers...] lack.

but these things are - of course - protections, rather than advantages.

snape just refuses to see it like that.

his focus is purely on the way he's discriminated against - and he is; he's not invented the grievance - due to his class background and financial status. and voldemort is the only person who takes this class aspect seriously - both in scylla and charybdis and in canon.

[this is why he has enormous support among werewolves and goblins. this is why the snatchers are all written as working-class young men. this is why there's a populist undertone to his regime.]

but voldemort is also treading a fine line. he can't declare himself to be seeking to destroy the class-system by which the wizarding world functions... because then the elite supporters who think his aims are pureblood oligarchy would abandon him and the ministry would be less willing to make concessions [after all, the implication of canon is that - if he'd just stayed away from harry - the first war would have been wrapped up by the ministry coming to the table…].

but he also needs to keep his popular support... so he can't be seen to be someone who's in favour of oligarchy.

but he also needs to keep those of his supporters who are drawn to him precisely because of his promise of violence happy... so he can't come across as someone who's perfectly happy to take over the state and its institutions and keep them running broadly unchanged.

but he also needs to keep the support he has among part-humans and non-humans... so he can't do anything which will have him dismissed as someone who's advocating for the same old wizard-supremacist violence.

but he also needs to keep both his elite and his popular wizarding support by not even remotely suggesting that he's seeking to replace magical people with werewolves and goblins…

he needs a scapegoat he can turn all of these disparate groups' ire on, in a way which prevents them from realising that he's lying to them all and that what he actually wants to do is to rule as an immortal absolute monarch with everyone else cowering at his feet.

and he finds that scapegoat in muggleborns.

[elchis-art-dump]

I love the baby seikret <333

+rant post

With MH Wilds finally out I wanted to rant about how I feel about it so far. For reference I just beat ray dau, which I feel is a good place to compare the full release to open beta 1 (I didn't play the others). The only other MH games I've play are World and Rise, but mostly World, so I'll be talking from that perspective and will be making a lot of comparisons to World.

Combat:

To preface this, I'm a hammer main and have been mostly playing hammer, so all of my more specific points may only apply there. I want to get my main issue so far out of the way, the game is really easy so far. I've averaged about 10 minutes a hunt on some of the harder monsters. My first ray dau hunt took about 9 minutes, while in the beta it took about 40 minutes + two faints. I know that I'm still early in the game, but the apex of a region being that easy kind of concerns me. The ratholos and diablos story quests in world, or even earlier monsters, felt far harder at the time. It's entirely possible that I've become more skilled over time, considering that it's been a few years since I did low rank World, but some monsters have felt way to easy. Now that that's done with, I think that the combat feels fantastic. Hammer over all combos better, the spinning bludgeon comboing from any attack really helps that. The dodge you get for charging is also fantastic (having evade extender with makes it even better), I honestly find it most helpful as a tool to close distances. Having only the walking speed while charging is kinda annoying, so having this dodge is a huge offensive boon despite it being a more defensive tool. I'm also in love with the wounding mechanic; it feels like what Iceborne was trying to do with tenderizing parts but better. It's no longer tied to having to use a somewhat risky option (although I miss wall bangs). I like how spontaneous it is and that their easily destroyed. These make it feel less like a free damage boost, rather it's far more deliberate since you need to actually target specific parts to break wounds. It's also a fun way to supplement the lower quest rewards since it gives you material.

Environment:

The game is absolutely beautiful and I'm in love with it. The environmental design is fantastic, each area feels super creative (big shout out to the oil basin). The weather changing the area itself is just awesome. I just cannot express how cool, beautiful, and creative the environments are. It seems to be taking a similar approach to World with the incredibly detailed areas, but unlike World everything feels as big as it should be. The open world aspect really makes everything bigger lol. I think the size makes everything feel more reasonable in a way. Unfortunately I don't feel like the areas are quite as memorable as world. Maybe I just haven't gone out of my way to explore them enough (we'll get to that later). I am very excited to get to explore the oil basin tho, absolutely wild area idea.

Two weapons + weapons skills:

I don't think I have much to say here other than that I really like this. No longer having my offenses being tied to my armor saves me from having to decide on if I value my defense or offense more (I still value skills more, but at least armor skills help keep me alive). Weapons skill in tandem with two weapons really incentives choosing weapons that synergize with each other and I just love that.

Performance:

I've seen people complain about performance issues, but so far it runs well on PS5 (idk about PC). I've had one hunt with performance issues, but it was multiplayer and I've only done two multiplayer hunts, soooooo idk what the issue was.

Railroading:

Definitely my biggest gripe with the game. I get that Wilds is far more narrative than other games, but I hate when games tell me I'm not allowed to do something. It just sucks that the game will force me into things immediately before and after a hunt. Considering that at worst it's annoying, this isn't a huge criticism.

Tracking:

Another small point, I just wish that you didn't immediately know where a monster is on the map. I like the scoutflies in world and gathering tracks since it made you explore. I just miss it, man...

Seikrets:

They're adorable and I love them <3333

[kitsun3imp0ster]

to be completely honest, i literally didnt know lampert had a tragic backstory apparently until i read what you just sent, but i didnt know stat had a tragic backstory either until i checked the wiki. the bossfight really doesnt show off said backstory very well, it just looks like stat was maybe building something and you destroyed it? it was really confusing for me the first time due to how incomprehensible it seems and yes, i really do agree that the fandom has some misogynistic views and such, but i wanna point out one of your tags. im not saying that stat shouldnt also fill a niche already occupied, she can most definitely be an asshole character who bullies and berates people because of her past, MY issue is with how lazy the writing seems for her. and again, if she was a man, i would have the exact same issues with her, because lazy writing is lazy writing across all genders. like seriously, i would genuinely LOVE for them to actually explore her backstory and genuinely give like... actual reasons for her to be an asshole other than 'shes scared and doesnt trust people'. like, i understand that, but it also just feels like a cop-out, ESPECIALLY since thats already FOLLY'S thing, with Cleave and all.

i wish theyd played more into anime tropes with her due to her design, and i wish theyd given her a more fleshed out backstory, and i wish theyd make it easier to find out lore and info. not just for her, but for EVERY character, ya know what i mean? to be honest, there are very few characters ive genuinely latched on to in this game due to the point you stated, aka the repetitive nature of the characters. a lot of their personalities are copy and pasted versions of others, ESPECIALLY the newer characters (null is like. my least favorite character. its dialogue seems like chatgpt tried to copy folly's dialogue and failed) the fandom is in fact deeply flawed with its views, one of the main reasons ive seperated myself from said fandom, but issues like these dont come from anywhere, they come from the environment the game has built, iykwim. uhhhh in conclusion, a lot of the writing sucks, fans do in fact need to give the female characters a break, BUT the male characters are just as bad, if not worse in some cases seriously i prefer stat over null any day, i need that edgelord robot thrown against a wall lol- [and also, i do want to apologize if i came off as hostile in my first response, thats not how i wanted to come off and its obvious i failed in that aspect. you do genuinely have a right to be peeved at me lol, and thank you for like, genuinely taking the time to respond, even if we have differing views on some things /genuine]

people who like lampert when a woman is added to the elevator who acts just like him: WHAT A CRAZY BITCH LOL!!!! SHE'S SUCH A HATER AND A JERK

(dialogue comparisons included to drive my point home)

[slavhew]

Hello!

If you're not too busy, would you mind listing some of the things you think count as death flags for Mr. Spender?

There's the obvious fact that he's the "old" mentor to group of young protagonists, but what else do you think would count?

OHH BOY ok so I'd think I'm a crackpot for this but since we're talking about Zack "Foreshadowing" Morrison. I have some thoughts

No harm in leading with the (chronologically) first thing that jumped out at me:

This one IMMEDIATELY made me antsy whenever I came back to it after my initial read, and considering Zack has referred to it on twitter in the past as one of their favorite jokes it's definitely not been forgotten about.

Second, the sheer amounts of near-misses, jokey or not, of Spender narrowly avoiding specifically lightning

Again, not much, but it's weird that it happened thrice, latter two of which had real gravitas rather than an one-off joke.

And third, Spender himself. He's repeatedly shown himself to be kind of a self sacrificing idiot, as well as prideful to a fault. Granted, it's both him and Mina trying to take on all the responsibility of saving Mayview and its inhabitants from their fate.. But Spender is exactly that right measure of doesn't-value-himself-enough (chest footprint aftercare or lack thereof), having an obscene amount of power (enables his loner act + pride) and poor judgement that has the capacity to put him at great risk. And it has!

Spender has not only shown low enough self-esteem to view himself as the de-facto scapegoat for the safety of the town, but also prideful enough to make very bad calls that end up in people, often himself, hurt (COUGH FORGE INCIDENT COUGH)

This is all conjecture, but it's definitely enough to make me worried about him :') Even if all this doesn't mean he'll necessarily die he's definitely getting (even more) seriously injured at some point. I love the guy but he's so far doing a horrible job of convincing me he wants to live bad enough to circumvent at least that

[tenebrare]

As a stand-alone film it was, what internet would call 'a mid'. It did pay homage to oldies and it was not something you'd call "simple and hasty cash grab". it did some things very canon friendly, but also forgot to give us characters to like or root for. It gets worse, when we see it as a Hellraiser film. It takes away almost every element fans seem to love in HR films and gives us CGI-which is nice and well done (really nice job, better than in modern marvel films), but nothing you have not seen done in i.e. 6th film already. I think the film gets adult rating not from the graphics and violence, but the fact the main character is high half times. And seeing a intoxicated woman constantly complaining and cry about her brother gets old very quick. As a final girl she just does not work. Could have made her brothers boyfriend the final-boy, that would have been better. That guy least had charm and became someone you wanted to survive. And that leads us to the inevitable Disney problem. The film is done during era where Disney financed productions all need to follow certain formula. Unfortunately that formula makes it very predictable. Now what is Disney formula people can probably find swiftly themselves if they want to be spoiled for every future production related to Disney (including their owned studios) . Alien: Romulus (a good film, I recommend ) by the way follows the exact formula and even kill order is same as in Hulus Hellraiser. Only reason I saw the 2022 film was that i was not well and a friend pressed the button my ISPs view-on-demand film selection thinking that surely a bit of Hellraiser would cheer me up. I think it has some good elements and the film makers loved what they were doing as well treated source material with respect - in many ways it is way more original canon friendly than 1987 film was. However i feel that I perhaps was not the target audience. I know its canon, but I also hated the 'pearl pins' with passion. And yes, I will die on that hill.

The Hellraiser films as light novel titles:

Hellrasier: How (not) to accidently summon sex demons

Hellbound: The sex demons won’t leave me alone, so I’ll remind them of their humanity and hope things work out for the best!

Hell On Earth: Since my soul was split in two, I’ll ruin everyone’s else’s day for fun

Bloodline: My sex demon co-worker makes my job harder than it needs to be (in space)

Inferno: Damning a man’s soul to Hell for being a terrible person for fun and profit

Hellseeker: Since I don’t want to become a sex demon, I’ll commit 1st-degree murder instead

Deader: Committing suicide is a bit complicated in Romania

Hellworld: What happens when you use a sex demon’s image to kill people and it doesn’t go quite as you expect.

Revelations: Making deals with sex demons in Mexico

Judgement: When fucking around and finding out in God’s presence goes wrong

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control