#its wild to me that anything I've created could make such an impression

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Unsurprisingly, a lot of the commentary I'm seeing about this has been of the "But--but--I would do the same thing because I don't want anything bad to happen to the deer!"

Look. I love wildlife, and I love getting to see deer, coyotes, and even the occasional black bear in my neighborhood. But they are here because there is good habitat nearby with lots of natural food sources, not because I deliberately put out food for them to eat. I respect them as wild animals with whom my relationship is very different compared to the domesticated animals I take care of every day. A deer is not a sheep or a horse; a coyote is not a dog.

People who do things like try to tame deer or, worse yet, try to raise a fawn or other young wildlife like pets are robbing those wild animals of their natural existences. We've already wrought our own preferences on the landscape to a severe degree, tearing the wildness out of it to create lawns and farms and subdivisions and strip malls. When we then dismiss the wildness of these animals and impress our own desire for connection on our terms on them, we are harming them.

I've already written elsewhere about the difference between "tame" and "domesticated". No matter how docile that deer seems, it is never going to be as (relatively) safe and tractable as a domesticated sheep or goat. It will always be more unpredictable, and more likely to lash out suddenly at a person due to fear, or hormones, or protection of young.

These animals need their wild instincts to be intact if they are going to survive without being dependent on us. They need those instincts in order to find mates and keep the gene pool stirred up. Their instincts keep them safe from danger, including humans. And their instincts never totally go away, no matter how much we may try to tame them otherwise.

This is why a good wildlife rehab is going to minimize handling of the wild animals they care for, especially those that are going to be able to be released back into the wild. The less comfortable these animals are with humans, the better their chances of surviving in the wild and having fulfilling, natural lives. Wildlife that retain their wariness of humans are less likely to end up falling prey to hunting, or being killed as nuisance animals when they get too aggressive in seeking food or otherwise coming into conflict with people.

The person who painted "pet" on a fully grown white-tailed buck and put a collar around his neck may have felt like they were doing that deer a kindness, but they have likely robbed him of the chance to just live a natural life as his own, independent being out in the woods and fields. He might be out there, sure, but perhaps he won't mate because he imprinted on humans. Or maybe he will end up shot by a hunter in spite of the precautions because he's just too friendly and those antlers are worth taking the shot.

There will always be something missing from this deer's life because of the arrogance of someone who thought they could own and keep and control a wild-born animal for their own enjoyment, instead of allowing him to come and go as he pleased. Honestly, it reminds me of King Haggard from Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn, whose response to seeing something beautiful was to capture it and keep it rather than simply enjoying and remembering that magical moment:

"I like to watch them. They fill me with joy. The first I felt it I thought I was going to die. I said to the Red Bull I must have them, all of them, all there are. For nothing makes me happy but their shining and their grace. So the Red Bull caught them. Each time I see the unicorns, my unicorns, it is like that morning in the woods and I am truly young, in spite of myself."

That's how I feel about people who are willing to drastically alter a wild animal's behavior for their own selfish benefit, even if they think they're being kind. I know I'm fighting a bit of an uphill battle in this, but I'm rather stubborn that way.

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Alright we're gonna do our first big compilation of my longass notes for a friend of the blogs fic, obviously we mUST start with The Thunder Answered Back by @spicymiilk

Fair warning, I would read the whole fic before reading my notes and laughing/crying along with me. I do think you can go chapter by chapter if you wish. Also a fair warning, I usually cull my notes before posting a fic comment; I really let myself go wild here. Proceed with caution.

Chapter one I didn't have too many notes bc I was deep in it and also there wasn't too too much cringe. Idk if this is well known about me, but I can watch like, hardcore porn or gore and not flinch. I used to watch Animal Planet vet shows while eating cheese its when I got home from school, just munching away while they did surgery on little puppies. But if you write even a tiny bit of cringe it takes me like 5 business days to recover. I fully cannot look at the screen. I will leave the room if an awkward conversation happens in my tv show. I also can't not react to cuteness as well. These notes were mental escapes a lot of the time in this fic, like mother of GOD I want to die even imagining these conversations. Mortifying. Anyways.

Unhinged things I would say on the google doc but here!

DIALOGUE, dialogue, dialogue, dialogue. It can make or break a piece and it CARRIED in this one. It's so very cringe and realistic lol. Dialogue is usually the hardest for writers but I don't think our man here has this problem lol.

Great setting as well, I can feel the heat. A setting you can physically feel is so immersive, it sucks you right in, and my ass has never been to Italy but I've been on a dock and I've been in a hot thunderstorm and I can feel it all.

Obsessed with the way Spider steps into the house and Neytiri's like "dinner, gayboy??" like she was on his ass instantly skskskks. HER LITTLE SLIGHTS AT HIM?? EXPLAIN, LOL. WHAT DID THE CHILD DO? Reminds me of the time my friends mom asked me to stop calling her Chris and I didn't understand why and just blurted back "Okay, Chris." It's just so funny to me when she hates Spider in modern fics, because there's no systemic context it's just her beefing with a small child oddly lol. Having read the whole fic now, it's just Quarich's racism connection, I believe.

I am obsessed with the plight of the boys. Obviously Spider needs to leave, but I'm hoping Lo'ak escapes the military industrial complex lol. I'm so torn. I had Sully fam on the brain, and I wanted Spider's continuing relationship with them all so badly. Maybe I simply need for them to ask Spider to stay with them? Like "live with us for a year buddy, get yourself ready for college. You can do anything king but also ur part of the family, now go deflower our son."

Here is that clarifying question I asked: Did Kiri and Spider have sex??? Or did Mandy tell her about Spider's dick? OR BOTH? I simply could not figure that out. Also missed opportunity to name that character Ninat for the lols. The next generation of Ninat's beefing with and over Sully men.

Now that you've given me my answer, truly hilarious comedic content for everyone around.

Kiri, at night: want to hear about Spider’s dick?

Lo’ak, charcoal and paper out, ready to create an impressive sketch: ew, no, go ahead.

Chapter two, FUCK OFF Jeytiri flirting karaoke is adorable, that’s hilarious. The whole scene made my heart happy bUT NOT HAPPY ENOUGH not enough comfort I need more of it.

Spider turning to Lo’ak who's aLREADY LOOKING AT HIM cause they’re both like “oh you mentioned love, let me look at my best friend,” I’ll die.

Lo’ak literally BEGGING Spider to sing so he can swoon in the corner. I love this headcanon that seems to be cropping up of Spider being like a really good singer, it's very interesting to me.

JAKE UNDERSTANDING SPIDER I’ll die. Jake’s adopted that child you can’t convince me otherwise. Dude, even Neytiri fucking sees him as part of the family, I’ll scream. The tooth gem thing??? Iconic. Loved it. She’s giving Spider specifically cookies??? I’ll die. She's included him in all their shit. Not just anyone can do family game night karaoke. The karaoke, I am obsessed. Adorable. The Kiri and Lo’ak banter means the world to me. Their limp wrist agenda, the limp wrist bullying. What will he do when he can’t hold that against her? She must be unbearable to him in return when Spider isn't there. We love a homophobic gay. It's like what I said about my roommate i slept with twice (who follows me on here and we all better hope doesn't perceive this post); "I only get offended when SHE calls me slurs because I know then it comes from a place of true homophobia."

Kiri is literally begging Spider to understand Lo’ak wants him. BEGGING LO’AK TO UNDERSTAND SPIDER WANTS HIM. Kiri trying not to die at how obvious they both are. Kiri, going to beat the shit out of Lo’ak for asking about Mandy of all people bc of how far he's gone to avoid learning about that. I STILL AM UNCLEAR AS TO IF HIS ASS ACTUALLY DIDN'T KNOW SPIDER BROKE UP WITH MANDY OR HE WAS JUST BEING AN ASS.

Also fuck u for underestimating the importance of Tuk to Spider, he wants Tuk to remember him please I swear.

Also I have noted you have hinted at Spider’s praise kink. I can see it clearly. Nothing more will be said on that topic, but sometimes a praise kink simply makes sense for a character.

'IT COMES OUT MORE LIKE GAY' that was just for me, I know. So was Ninat's kid, obviously. Now that it's cONFIRMED for me I love to know that I am the target audience of all locorro fics ever.

Spider: *calls Lo’ak baby and gets embarrassed*

Lo’ak: *rebooting*

Lol Spider punching Lo’ak for saying slurs is so funny. Lo’ak's like if I say it I ain’t it, and that's on falling for the guy that is punching me for saying the slurs.

This little "I knew" reveal was CERTAINLY not what I was expecting. Not at all. A delightful little twist huh? A little trope subversion? AN EXPLICIT DRUNK CONFESSION IS SO HEART-WRENCHINGLY AWFUL OH MY GOD. WHAT HAPPENED THEN WHAT DID THEY D O I MUST KNOW. "It’s not a big deal bc I… like u too obviously lol." That's the end of the sentence and the end of the communication. I was driven insane by that, I just finished XO Kitty, worst show ever, and I was reminded how much I despise when communication would solve legit every problem but it's handled realistically here. Communication is so hard for the boys Kiri will throw hands. And I brought your inhaler with me obvs cause I’m in love with you.

I’m sad about an asthmatic fist fight but it’s so appropriate. I am sad tho. I am a hurt/COMFORT bitch where is my COMFORT. I don't think my body is ready for a nocorro fic from u @spicymiilk my blog is about to become all comforting headcanons and we're going to ignore the plethora of Hunger Games ones I got today.

Now we have to sit here in this world where Lo'ak thought Spider was emotionally(?) cheating on Mandy with him if he thought they were still dating, the fucking clown idiot fool.

FINALLY, for the third and final chapter, with some bonus answers Andrei has given to my demanding all caps questions.

I’m so mean, I’m laughing at the idea of Kiri waking up at an ungodly 7:34am to Lo’ak ugly crying over Spider’s fake bed on the floor like he’s gone off and died in the war. She’s just like the pizza box community meme like uhhhh. Now I know this must happen oFTEN so I again figure that she must have gotten really good at sleeping through his ugly sobbing.

JHUST FUCKING LEAVE QUARITCH THIS IS SO ANNOYING GET OUT OF MY PLOT I’M TRYNA SEE KIRI’S TEXTS, ugh I'm so biased I despised how much he was in this chapter he should choke I wish asthma was contagious. Although, for some reason Quaritch calling Spider Lo’ak’s wife did things to me personally, The sweet homosexual love line then took me out back and popped me (I mean this in a like, Italian mafia putting me down outside way and not like, doing poppers outside a club although for some reason both are giving the same energy).

Neytiri murdering Spider for both turning her son gay and also making him sad can be something so personal. I still am in denial of every universe where she doesn't like him, and in this one I just love the idea of them slinking back to Italy having eloped or some shit where Spider now has to build that relationship but now having deflowered and stolen her son in the night. Hilarious. They must bond over talking about how stupid he is. They're so similar, how can the people with Jake and his clone not be.

Lol I also forgot Lo’ak got a black eye, that makes Kiri’s texts earlier so much funnier. Kiri was like they made out so hard he was struck with love. Developed a bruise. His gayness punched him in the face.

SPIDER KILL YOURSELF IM IN YOUR ROOM KICK YOUR DAD OUT IS SO FUNNY TO ME THE KYS SPECEFICALLY KILELD ME.

Oh my god the crying was all a lie, a fantasy, I’m so disappointed. More realistic, sure, but still. I am unclear as to if it was rEAL.

I had the cunt thing spoiled for me when I was catching up on posts I missed; never did I imagine lol. Almost as hilarious as Lo’ak telling Spider to die because he didn’t look at him, gay.

Spackle covering the hole in the wall, hmm, I wonder who punched that there?? Also abusive Quaritch giving romantic advice is making me want to puke up all my organs. I know Andrei says say the hole in the wall was nothing, but you can't have an abusive dad character and then mention a hole in the wall and nOT have us thinking that Quaritch punched a hole in the wall. Every reader is gonna think that.

Lol those Kiri texts and what she says is sO MEAN god I totally get why she did it but omg way to ruin a man over something that is not his decision or his fault. She’s just so so mad about the gays being dumb. Can’t believe she finally coughed up this info. Also the way Quaritch could probably hear all this through the wall makes me wanna die.

Speaking of Quaritch, what an interesting portrayal of their relationship. As a Quaritch hater, there's very few fics where I don't just fully skip long interactions with him. I gotta have really been sucked into the world, and I was with this one. I can't tell what of my feelings on the characters have made me biased on the relationship and what are my feelings on what the text portrayed. The feeling of too late in their relationship is there, overwhelmingly and devastatingly, but part of me found myself unconvinced by the attempts from Quartich. I literally can't tell if it's my own bias (most likely) or if it's my own lack of explicit background knowledge.

What we do learn of the past we learn in fragments, passing lines from Spider's internal monologue. They aren't the focal point of the story, but they are deeply important to the world created, and it leaves me with a feeling like I'm in an unfinished paint by numbers; I don't quite have the full picture. (Again, as I always say to you in my beta notes Andrei, these are incredibly harsh comments for fic. It's just good enough I'm treating it as though it's more lol (bc it can be)).

As to why everyone is finding Kiri mean; yeah she's neurospicy and we do clearly get the vibe that they talk to each other in this way, this casual banter that doesn't really mean anything. That being said, casual "kill yourself" or like "this is all your fault" and shit like that when the character is clearly upset and angry comes across as serious. Knowing Kiri as a character I didn't think she was, but reading it took me aback because as a standalone I don't have that context. In arguments and serious moments those words pack a punch, especially to a reader in such close third as we are with Spider in this one. We are WITH him and seeing only his thoughts and perspectives, his hurt is front and center so it's easy to feel hurt and defensive as a reader. I digress.

Lo’ak’s like every man in a crime show calling his wife to hear her voice one last time before he goes to to the dangerous mission and almost dies. He's like "I'll hear Spider's breathing and then know the US military is the way for me." Spider, the barrier between Lo’ak and the goddamn US military. That’s so funny to me. This is another reason to feel confused by Kiri's vitriol; it's not Spider's fault what Lo'ak chooses to do with his life and it is unfair to blame him. One line of her doing it I get, but she does it several times and the only excuse we get for her is from Spider.

Kiri is better than me I’m an awful secret keeper. But also maybe she could’ve coughed that bad boy up earlier, huh?

Tbh tho, on a serious writing note; it’s so well written because from the beginning we know exactly what is happening. They both like each other and Kiri knows both sides. That was obvious to me. You tell us from the get go that Spider is leaving when he turns 18, and that Lo’ak is leaving to join the military, WE KNOW WHATS GOING TO HAPPEN. And yet the train chugs on and each event sets it in motion instead of derailing it, leaving us with an inevitable tragedy we all saw coming. Well done. If I was giving line edits on a publishable work, I’d say speed up the timeline. Make the whole fic (so excluding prior events like the party) all happen like. A few days before Spider leaves. I want to feel it all in real time, up close, as it happens. No breaks in time. I also want that memory convo with Lo’ak earlier lol, so that the realization of it can hit later. And honestly, if it wasn’t fic I’d leave it with the Kiri and Spider convo. No happy ending. BUT NOW LET ME GO READ MY WELL DESERVED HAPPY ENDING. U would've been SICK for not including one.

Extremely uncommon fanfiction Jake Sully W here. It should be more common I am an unapologetic stan.

Them going to find each other is so funny to me. Kiri was personally sending them on a wild goose chase as revenge.

OH THERE IT IS THE COMMON JAKE SULLY L. Although driving your gay ass son to do an airport rom com moment at 5:45am is actually quite the parenting w, where the fuck was Neytiri she would’ve been much more efficient. I mean she wouldn't have let him go, but she would've been efficient about it.

The idea of Lo’ak making his final decision to go to the military earlier in the day and then not actually doing it until he wakes Jake up at 2am makes me cackle. Jake: you go get that dick son, your mother can kill us both later.

ALSO WHY’S HE PULLING HIS SHIRT COLLAR SO HIGH, HMMM, ANDREI??? Showing up to meet his grandmother absolutely dEFILED. Does Lo'ak even have a change of clothes, that monster.

It’s 2:18am (when I originally write this), I have work tomorrow as I do literally every day of the week, and I’m just smiling to myself at this shit. Criticism: not enough of them being happy and also I didn’t get to learn what depraved things Spider wanted to do to Lo’ak that he drunkenly told him about that Lo’ak then had to live with torturing himself (and Kiri) over for months.

Andrei's response on what Spider drunkenly said to Lo'ak for the people: The depraved things are as follows— spider sat his ass in Lo’ak’s lap, completely and utterly gone, and waved poetry about Lo’ak’s long and strong fingers for at least ten minutes. He also made sure to mention his borderline tank top kink. Lo’ak definitely did not internalize that

I just have to say; I should've expected that. Those two gay ass losers to simply lose their minds over tHAT, which is like nOTHING. A REGULAR CONVERSATION I'D DARE SAY. ONE OF THE FIRST CONVERSATIONS I HAD WITH ONE OF MY ROOMMATES WAS ABOUT HER HAND KINK, SO I RECIPROCATED BY SAYING I THOUGHT THE DWARVES IN LOTR HAD GOOD HANDS. LO'AK WAS DEAD, SIMPLY MURDERED, A BLUSHING FOOL OVER THAT.

Lo'ak, stumbling into his and Kiri's room: Spider confessed his love for me and said... depraved things.

Kiri: OH MY GOD WHAT DID HE SAY.

Lo'ak: He said he likes my tank tops... I can barely speak of it out loud.

Kiri: Oh. 🙄

Also lowkey Kiri has to be enraged they’re normal now that they’re away from her. ALSO DOESN’T THAT BITCH LO’AK HAVE SCHOOL?? Hilarious all around. Lo’ak brings Spider back because they cannot be apart and then keeps him in his and Kiri’s room for the next year until he finishes high school. They see how long they can go without Quaritch finding out Spider’s nearby. Kiri hates them so much, especially now that they fuck in her space.

Andrei said in response to this: Lo’ak finished school in Florida!! Pulled a fast one on the school system and said hey I’m smart enough to finish like two classes here. Kiri didn’t speak to EITHER of them for months. Neytiri would call to check up and Kiri would be whining in the background about how she’s betraying her

They make up when Spider saves up to get her a ticket to visit them for a summer 🤸

The idea of Lo'ak never returning is so funny to me in so many ways. First of all, Spider dropping him off and picking him up like he's the sexy older boyfriend in every romcom ever. Second, the idea of Spider bullying him for having to go to school still. Three, they just squat with Spider's grandma, and she's like god I expected one gay loser not TWO. Four, Neytiri calling to check up just resulting in her and Spider both bitching about Lo'ak and Kiri respectively here is how the Neytiri and Spider fanboys can win-

Also, the idea of someone having to tell Neteyam about this makes me want to cry real tears of laughter. He’s in his first semester of college someone free him.

Andrei said: Let neteyam live in blissful ignorance. He knew Lo’ak was a raging homosexual for their entire lives and the second he saw spider he was like. Oooohhh okay. And then he never looked again the mental strength required to deal with it was just too much

Kiri, on facetime: so Lo'ak followed Spider-

Neteyam, opening a textbook in his Harvard dorm room or some shit:

[chocobothis]

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

✍️ What’s your ideal writing setup?

🚀 Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

🏷 Is there a tag you like to search for when looking for fanfics to read?

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

At this point, I think its anything to do with Pre Vizsla. I've added to his backstory, personality, hobbies, etc. It's wild because there's maybe seven people who like him. But, here I am full of adoration.

-

✍️ What’s your ideal writing setup?

The house is cool, I've got a warm drink, a blanket in my lap, and music playing. It's also an autumn thunderstorm or winter snowstorm.

-

🚀 Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?

It depends what kind of fic its going to be. Things that feel like they're gonna be short are written off the cuff. If it's going to be longer then I want to have at least a basic outline. Having a "task list" makes it easier to keep track of what's happening.

-

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

Master Kenobi stood in front of her with his lips moving a great deal. She supposed he was speaking to her. All she heard was muffled noise that her brain parsed out to be maybe Basic. Or, it could be Vratix. She was sure some of the vibrasse in her ear were singed off.

Her fingers felt clumsy as she tried to pull the towel from her shoulders to her head. Until someone saw fit to turn down the kriffing lights it would be a cowl. What kind of inept infrimary kept the lights this bright? Reliving birth was a piss poor way to start dry healing. She preferred to provide dark lenses when waking up.

A nurse approached from the front with an aspirator. If she had to guess it was to suction the lingering bacta from her ears. But, what did she know about medical things a medic? They could be here to clean her burning eyeballs.

He brushed aside the towel to inspect her ears before bringing the aspirator up to clear them out. She was benevolent enough not to claw out his eyes. To human ears the sound registered as a gentle hum. Except she was three-quarters Sephi with essentially full Sephi biology; it sounded like running marble through a garbage disposal but plugged directly into her skull. A manual aspirator would have been the better option.

But that means they'd have to acknowledge more than humans around.

"How are you feeling, Solly?" He moved in closer, blocking some of the light, while speaking in a low tone. "Everyone's been worried about you."

"I've survived worse." Her tongue poked gracelessly around her mouth focusing on molars and fangs. "Even kept all of my teeth this time."

Without prompting he poured a glass of water for her. He was such an intuitive, caring man at his core. For all of his martial skill he was wasted there. Diplomacy or healing would have suited him better.

"I do apologize that one of your lightsabers were as we escaped."

"Why?" The glass was drained in one swallow. "It was the broken one. The mission is still safe."

His hand came to rest on his chin. "You're very attuned to your sabers. It's truly impressive for one so young."

"Kyber sings for me. I know their songs." She tilted her head to match him. "I know their silence."

-

🏷 Is there a tag you like to search for when looking for fanfics to read?

I love to look for friends to lovers things and sometimes AUs. Usually, it's more about me using tags to filter things out.

Fanfic Writer Ask Game

[i-am-gun-robot]

I've been staring at this for days trying to find the words to express just how much I love this, but I'm coming up short.

Not only is this just drop dead gorgeous art, but it made me feel so much more than even writing that scene did. I love how raw the expressions are, the way you built the atmosphere, the textures, the background, the armor holy shit - your art is gorgeous. I keep getting lost in Jim and Steve's eyes, you perfectly captured all the hurt, desperation, and sadness. Thank you so much for making this and sharing it, I really can't put into words how much it means to me!

Been thinking about "A Brief Reliving of Troll Lore" by @i-am-gun-robot for months now. I think about this scene every day. (This fic made me cry. very cathartic.)

[wingsyliveblogs]

big nerd question coming up: what do you think of the magic system (the way magic works) in the owl house? from what you've seen of it so far that is.

Oooh, this is an interesting question!

(cut for length)

Hmm. From what I've seen of it so far, I think I'd say that the magic system in The Owl House strikes me as something of a soft/chaotic magic system, but one whose users are trying to pretend is the opposite, if that makes sense? It seems to be inherently loose, without a lot of rules and clear explanations for how things work, but the school and coven system still insist on putting all sorts of unnecessary restrictions on it.

The first thing we really hear about magic is from Eda in Episode 3, when she says that it's wild and unpredictable. Immediately afterwards, we're introduced to Hexside, which splits its students into rigidly defined categories, and then in Episode 5, we learn that covens will restrict their members' use of magic to certain types. This would suggest that it's at least possible to explicitly categorise different types of magic... but in general, I get the feeling that Eda's assessment of how magic works in the Boiling Isles is more accurate.

For example, take the magic tracks and the main 9 covens. First of all, "construction" isn't a form of magic! This coven's members don't actually do a lot of spellwork, as far as I can tell; rather, they're focused on manual labour, enhanced by glyphs that increase their physical strength. What are glyphs? How do they work? Are there glyphs that do anything else? Who knows!

(My current theory is that the glyphs are actually reusable spell runes, seeing as they're made up of a fancy symbol that can be drawn on paper that has some sort of effect when you touch it, but that's beside the point.)

And then we come to potions. How do potions and elixirs fit into the magic system alongside spells? It makes sense on a meta level that they'd be a part of it, since potions are a classic witch thing, but what actually goes into making them? Is spellcasting involved, or is it all manual technique? If it's the latter, why is potionmaking taught separately from tracks that teach witches actual spellcasting, since it should technically be a thing anyone can do?

(Personally, I get the feeling that this is because it's very easy to separate potions from spells, so in a societal system as rigidly structured as the coven system, it's very easy to set a boundary there even when there doesn't need to be one.)

And speaking of spellcasting itself, what's the significance of magic aura colours? So far, magic auras have remained fairly random, as far as I can tell. The leader of the demon hunters has green, like Willow, but he seems to have some sort of electricity-based ability, which is a far cry from her plant magic. The Moonlight Conjuring is represented by a pale blue colour. The Bat Queen's magic is yellow. What does it all mean?

As for spells themselves, how do you determine what type of magic a spell is, anyway? Gus specialises in illusions, but he's capable of creating tangible objects, and imitations of people that can think for themselves. What's the limit to what counts as an illusion? What would one categorise basic spells like light or fire as? What about Lilith's teleportation spell?

How do curses work and how are they cast? What are the mechanics behind rare events like the Moonlight Conjuring and the Wailing Star? What type of spell was the oath spell that Amity used in Episode 5? What about the bodyswap spell?

There are a lot more questions where this came from, and the show doesn't seem all too eager to answer them. I don't think this is a bad thing at all! But it does give me the impression that the magic system here is one where stuff just happens sometimes, and trying to figure out the why and the how of it all isn't really important. It's a chaotic magic system for a chaotic world.

Well, that got a bit long, but I hope this was a decent answer! I could very well be reading the magic system completely wrong, or I could be proven wrong later if the show goes into how the magic system works in more depth in future episodes, but these are my thoughts on it from where I am in the show right now.

(Obligatory disclaimer: if anything I've mentioned here gets explained later on in the show, please don't tell me about it. Thanks!)

[writing-in-april]

Curl Recovery

Post Prison Spencer x Gender Neutral Curly Hair Reader

Gif is from @zhuzhubii who also helped me out of my writers block to write this by talking about their curly hair request. They have a writing about curly hair as well go check it out along with their other works! Also thanks to @imagining-in-the-margins for helping me as well!

Summary: Spencer has returned from prison and isn’t feeling himself. His whole being has taken a beating including his hair. Y/N helps him gain back a little of what he lost.

Warnings: Talk of Prison, this is fluff but it has angst (comfort fluff)

A/N: Hey Hey loves sorry for being MIA I had a major writers block. I was supposed to post Mismatched first but I’m in a rut with writing it. So here’s something I whipped up to try and get my writing brain going. This didn't have a beta but I did try to edit. Also again this was supposed to be a blurb and I failed lmao.

Masterlist Word count: 1.2k

Spencer never cared much about how his hair looked. It was always something that he never bothered to learn how to properly tame. No one really taught him how to in his childhood and he honestly wasn’t sure where he inherited his waves from. Before prison he would normally gel it back to where you could barely discern he even had wild fluffy beautiful curls hiding underneath.

Spencer tried to do his normal routine of slicking back his hair since he got out, but every time he looked in the mirror the image that he was greeted with didn’t seem like himself anymore. His face was no longer filled with boyish charm and was now tinged with sadness and heavy eye bags. He wanted to let his curls and waves live free just as he finally felt after those hellish weeks.

However, the soap that was given to him in prison shouldn’t have been put on anyone’s hair. He was pretty sure the soap that was being passed off as shampoo was really dial soap. Spencer could recognize the way the soap foamed on his hands and the smell had been too similar to not make the connection.

Sulfates aren’t a gentle chemical, they strip the skin of its natural oils, depriving it of its resources. The chemicals had done they’re damage in the three months he had been behind bars. His once defined curls now sat limp and frizzy, no longer framing his face like they once had. His identity was stripped from him and he didn’t realize how much he loved them until they were gone.

Tears clung to the corners of his eyes as he raked his hand through his hair that now felt like straw. He felt stupid for crying- I mean who cries over hair? Somewhere deep he knew that it had nothing to do with his vanity and had everything to do with the fact that he felt robbed. He felt robbed of his passion, joy, and the slight innocence he had retained throughout the years even with his gruesome job.

His torso was suddenly wrapped up with a familiar warmth, at first he started to jerk away from the embrace as a reflex, he had gotten much more jumpy with touch ever since getting back.

“Sorry!” The familiar voice of Spencer’s significant other squeaked out in fear that they had scared him.

“No- Y/N I’m sorry. I've just been really jumpy.” Spencer scrambled to say. He always loved when they embraced him, he gained a tremendous amount of comfort from their touch. Turning around to face away from the mirror hanging over the sink Spencer scooped Y/N up in another hug, tucking his head into their neck and nuzzling.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for bubs.” Spencer was silent in response with tears still pricking at the edges of his irises, which worried Y/N. Even though the trauma he had from prison was still deep rooted he had given the impression that he was doing extremely well for only being out for a little while. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to gel it anymore and I want my curls back. The shampoo at the prison destroyed them, they’re gone.” He choked out, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks and on to the t-shirt that Y/N wore. Y/N couldn’t take the deep rooted pain that Spencer now carried from prison however, they could give him some solace by helping him gain back a little of what he lost.

“Don’t fret Spence. We can get them to come back, it’ll just take some extra time and care. Have you washed it today?”

“I haven’t washed it today.” Y/N peered over the tub to look at his array of products, they had never taken a close look beforehand, though they weren't surprised to see the typical 2 in 1 shampoo conditioner.

“Your products that you have are damaging to your hair too.” His face fell at their words the twinge of restoration crumpled in front of him, “But, you can use mine Spence.” They said while ruffling his hair with a grin trying to cheer him up as much as possible. Spencer still felt a halo of darkness around him but the presence of the person he loved made everything seem a tone lighter. His hands reached for the curly hair products they held, though they were swiftly tugged away from him.

“No Spence, let me take care of you.” A stool was brought by Y/N for Spencer to sit on. They cradled his head gently after he sat down and tilted his head over the sink where a towel was placed to catch all of the excess water.

The massage that was given to his scalp by Y/N made the tension start to melt away. After shampoo the deep conditioner was pulled out to soften his locks again. While the conditioner was working its magic on his hair Y/N sat on Spencer’s lap tracing light patterns on his skin with the tips of their fingers. Silence was the only thing being exchanged in the air. However, it wasn’t awkward. It was content peaceful silence, which was something Spencer hadn’t been able to enjoy in a long time. When the time came to wash it out he let out a disgruntled whine not wanting to break the delicate peace that was created. The peace still happened to remain between them as Y/N took an old t-shirt that they didn’t care about anymore, carefully scrunching out the excess water out of his hair.

Spencer realized that he felt the happiest he’d been in a long time while Y/N put gel into his hair. This time however, the gel was placed meticulously in stark contrast to the stifled locks he had worn before, his curls were wild and free. He decided to take a cue from his curls and let go a bit. He may still have pain with a long road of recovery ahead of him, but can still try to live life to the fullest, especially with his beloved Y/N at his side.

[gingermintpepper]

After thinking it over for a bit, I've decided that I might as well do a proper underrated 3DS game rec list. I'm a bit of an ATLUS junkie and that's gonna be pretty disgustingly apparent in this list, but it's not my fault that they released hit after hit and all of them were duly ignored.

Due to tumblr's 10 image limit (and my struggle to keep motivated to do one thing for more than three hours) I'm definitely gonna have to break this up into parts and I'm fairly certain one of these lists is just gonna be MegaTen games lmao but I'd like to let people know about these excellent titles and see if I can't at least get people interested in them so they can get more traction.

So, without further ado:

Some 3DS Games that were criminally slept on (part 1)

Monster Hunter Stories

God, where do I begin with this game. Well, the basics: It's a JRPG spinoff title of the now widely successful and popular Monster Hunter series featuring a different take on interacting with the varied and intricate monsters populating the world: Riders.

Yep, instead of hunting the beasties, you play as a young rider who's completed their intiation ritual and can now bond with 'Monsties' as they've cutely labelled the usually ferocious monsters of the wilds. The great thing is that you still fight Monsters--tons of them in fact but this isn't a paid review and in my humble opinion, the most impressive thing about this game is the visual style. The landscapes, the armour, the way they redesigned and 3DS-ified the classically hyper realistic and monstrous beasts to not only be absolutely adorable but still capable of being intimidating when the time calls for it, the stellar animation of special moves and combination attacks--it's delicious, nutritious, stupendous, I can and will consume it like it's part of my recommended caloric intake.

It's very akin to Pokemon in the way its basic gameplay premise is set up, however, instead of catching--or even indeed befriending--the Monsties in the game, you rummage through their nests and steal their eggs, later hatching them and getting yourself a brand new lightly kidnapped monster pal!

Other general things about the game:

Pros:

The armour and weapon sets for both male and female characters slap along with the general character customisation options. They're incredibly diverse (though limited in body type) and you can switch around traits and features whenever you want from your house.

The POGS--these porkers are everywhere and they serve as tiny little achievements for exploring every odd and end of the world. Also they have little outfits. They're so cute. 🥺🥺

You can actually ride the Monsties. All of em. Or, at least the ones that you have available to be your buddies. They all have exploration skills and traits that not only make exploring much more interesting but encourage you to swap out your active Monstie and play around with your options a bit.

Y'all breeding Monsties is complicated and I live for just how intense and ridiculous you can get with optimal builds for these things.

The story is really competently put together! The characters, character designs and even the internal conflict with your starting trio of characters is really compelling along with the mystery of the blight that's infecting Monsters across the world. It's not anything worth awards but it's compelling and it makes you care about the characters if that's what you're in the market for.

Amazing sound design, expansive world, everything about the presentation of this game oozes that Monster Hunter charm even if the art is cutesier than usual. You'll never get bored of its stellar visual presentation!

Available for around twenty quid on the Google Play store, so if you want, you could actually get the full game on your smartphone or tablet. Note though that it would be a battery nuker.

Cons:

If you're on a regular 3DS, frame rate drops are a given. This game kinda pushes the visual capabilities of the 3DS to its absolute limit--a lot like Okamiden did back on the DS.

One save file :( It's pretty much for the same reason as above but still.

If you're playing as the girl, you can't get male armour and vice versa. Since there's only one save file, you'll never be able to have all of the armour sets in a single playthrough and that's criminal because both of the sets for the genders are absolutely breath-taking, thank you.

I 👏can't 👏make👏my👏 own 👏Palico👏

Multi-player for this game is pretty dead seeing as it's almost five years old by now and never got much press or traction. Usually this wouldn't be an issue - this game is 99% singleplayer and you don't really need to fuss about with multi-player to have fun, but if you want to collect all the Monsties, you'll need it since the only way to get Glavenus is through pvp achievements. :/

Final thoughts: Play it if you find yourself getting tired or disappointed with 3DS Pokemon games but still want something that feels as fantastical as Pokemon. It outshines the 3DS Pokemon games at every turn and I will never be over just how thoughtfully put together and fully realised these games are. Of course, if you've ever played Monster Hunter, then you know just how intensive these games are with the lore, biology, cultures and world of their Monsters but seeing that translated into JRPG format was just very sobering and it's a game that, to this day, continues to awe me with just how much love and attention went into it.

Last note: If you're still unsure about it, there's a demo available on the e-shop of the 3DS that allows you to play through the entire initial area of the game. Your data does carry through to the full release and to give you an idea of how much I've been able to squeeze out of it - my playtime for that demo is currently sitting at 22 hours. Make sure to get a hold of that Cyan-Kut-Ku!

7th Dragon III Code: VFD

The title may sound intimidating but the premise is not! A mysterious disease called Dragon Sickness spread by the Dragonsbane flowers that have cropped up all around the world. You and your team are recruited by the Nodens game company after you display extraordinary prowess in their hit virtual reality game 7th Encount. As you go through the adventure, you are tasked with finding out the truth behind the Dragon Sickness and asked to stop both it and the Dragons that are destroying the world.

This game is fun. It's another turn-based JRPG however, in this game you create all of your characters yourself from the myriad of classes available to you from the jump. Different classes of course have very different specialisations - Samurai focus on high powered cutting damage with their swords, Duelists are summoners who can influence the element of the battlefield as well as summon monsters from each element, Agents can hack into your enemies and inflict a barrage of nasty ailments, just to name a few - and you are given three teams of three characters each to experiment with different team comps and find the balance that works for you. There's also a wide variety of Dragons to hunt and kill in the game, which directly affects how infected your world is with the Dragon Sickness causing Dragonsbane. Along the way you will also come into contact with many interesting characters, concepts and confrontations that will make the task of saving the world all the more imperative.

Pros

1. The character creator and differing classes give way for tons of experimenting and playing around with your own unique approach to combat and carrying out your missions. Granted, 'character creation' is generous, it's little more than palatte swaps but the classes are really where VFD shines. Eight main classes may not sound like a lot, but the expaniveness of the character skills, their synergy with their fellow classes and the uniqueness of some of the classes in and of itself allows for so much flexibility and creativity in approaches to even tougher bosses. It also encourages the switching about of your party members to really finagle with the options available to you.

2. God this game is pretty. The locations, the character art, the creature design - all of it is gorgeous and this game capitalises on every bit of the 3DS's presentation limitations as it can.

3. You can romance anything and everyone - yes, you can even be gay/lesbian/poly in this game. In fact, one of the main characters - Julietta - is gnc and he's a constant source of joy as well one of my personal favourite characters, right behind Yuma.

4. Exploration is very very forgiving as the game has healing spots and teleport nodes all over the world to allow for quick, seamless travel between quest points without feeling like anything is too much of a hassle. There are also special enemies that allow for quick grinding as well as quick farming of money. In general, the game does a really good job of making sure that the grind is never unbearable or inconsiderate of your time.

Cons:

1. This is the fourth game in a series the West has never seen any other title for, and from the looks of it, will probably never see any other titles for. Because of that, there are some elements that may seem confusing or revelations in the plot that may seem to come out of nowhere.

2. While the visuals are great, the OST of this one is pretty short making for a lot of reused soundtracks that can get really annoying if you're like me and need your audio to be interesting or consistent so it doesn't distract you too much.

3. This one isn't really a con but it is divisive: This game gets pretty difficult at times. A few of the main dragon enemies including and especially the final boss can give you a serious run for your money in the annoy-o-meter in terms of the kind of absolute JRPG fuckery they can pull out of their magic bag of bullshit movesets and while I generally enjoy that kind of thing, I know it's not for everyone. Most regular combat shouldn't be too tricky once you have a team comp that works well together but you also need to pay attention since the same team that carries you to victory one time might be worth beans against another dragon.

Final thoughts: This is... a really good game. Interesting story, really interesting characters, pretty world and a battle system that really makes you sit down and think. There's also a demo for this available in the e-shop and while your data doesn't carry over - you do receive multiple perks for carrying over your demo data including some exclusive items that, while not game breaking, do help a ton in the early stages of the game.

This isn't a final list by any stretch of the word; I only have the energy to do these two right now, but the next games up for coverage are Ever Oasis and Stella Glow! If you're interested in my full plan of games I want to cover here then my current lineup includes: Theatrhythm: Curtain Call, Project Mirai: Deluxe, Culdecept Revolt, Alliance Alive, Radiant Historia: Perfect Chronology, Etrian Odyssey V, Devil Survivor 2: Record Breaker and Shin Megami Tensei IV: Apocalypse.

Finally, if anyone has played any of the games I mention, cover or plan to cover PLEASE REACH OUT TO ME, I AM SO LONELY IN MY FORTRESS OF SAND. On a serious note, I'd love to hear what other people who've played these games think!

Thanks for reading,

-Ginger

PS: @feralpeacock Because a million years ago, on my first underrated games post, you asked that I remember you. :D

[twh-news]

Marvel's Loki series just released its penultimate episode this week, and while the story has been wild, one thing hasn't changed and that's the excellence of Loki's score. Composer Natalie Holt has created arguably the best score in the MCU, one that's fresh and memorable, quirky and sweeping. It's certainly made audiences take notice.

Holt spoke to Screen Rant about the challenge of creating a whole new sci-fi musical landscape for Marvel, the freedom of having a character like Loki to lead her, the hardest piece to score, and more.

It's a very different genre and world from pretty much everything you've scored before. Did you find it daunting to have to create a whole new sonic landscape or did you find you really relished the challenge of playing with a very specific sound unique to a comic book sci-fi series?

Natalie Holt: I always have to be led by the story and by the characters and the scale of the music is really dictated to me by what I'm seeing and what I'm reading in the script. I guess the things I've done before, you know, I've done a drama for BBC which was about victims of sex trafficking rings and it was based on a real-life story. It was just these three girls and it felt like it had to be small and intimate and emotional and, yeah, I've worked on stories which have felt smaller in scale. And now this is the universe and the Time-Keepers and this god, and I knew it definitely needed to have a bigger scope than anything I've had to score before. So it felt like a really exciting challenge. I pieced it together and just had to go with the sound I heard in my head when reading the script and watching Tom Hiddleston's performances. I felt like it was okay to go there because what everyone else involved was offering and what everyone was giving me, that kind of guidance. It felt like it was okay to go to those places.

There are a number of distinct sounds and musical beats, like the theremin and the clock ticking, throughout the score. Did you play around with any obsolete or strange instruments or non-musical items to help create the soundscape?

Natalie Holt: You know, the tape machine almost became an instrument in itself because I was recording things onto it, sampling different types of clocks and church bells and stuff. Then I'd play it through the tape machine and slow it down and kept getting these weird, distorted sounds, and they were almost unrecognizable from the things they were originally. So that was quite fun to just play around with distorting sounds.

But also, I met Charlie [Draper], this theremin enthusiast before lockdown. Before I'd even heard about Loki, we'd worked on this musical project for an ad agency. So he's got this 1929 RCA theremin designed by Leon Theremin. I think there are only about 140 of them now and most of those aren't even workable anymore. So he had this instrument that was basically used for all those classic sci-fi soundtracks because for decades they were the only thing people could get their hands on. And Charlie also got a Big Briar 91A theremin, which was designed by Bob Moog and an ondes Martenot, which is bit like a theremin but more mellow. So it was amazing, knowing Charlie and knowing that Kate wanted to use a theremin, it was like, "Okay, I know who to use for this." And Charlie's a huge Marvel fan so he was just brilliant. I was sending him my ideas and he'd just send back recordings of him performing them on the theremin and he'd give me different versions on all the instruments he had, as well, so he was just an amazing collaborator on this as well. So yeah, he was on the pitch to get the job.

Speaking of, how did you get this Loki job? Did they reach out to you or did you reach out to them with a pitch?

Natalie Holt: It was just a general callout. I think there was a thing that went around to a few agents and Marvel was really looking for female composers. So that's already amazing that they're trying to give these bigger opportunities to female composers and that they were looking for people they wanted to try that they'd perhaps not heard of, hence that general callout. My agent had this unidentified Marvel pitch so I sent him my show reel. I just felt like there was a huge amount of luck involved with me getting the job. I remember someone at film school saying, "Everyone gets their moment, you just have to recognize when it is," and I remember being like, this has got that moment written all over it - it's a Marvel pitch! I spent ages on the pitch and recorded loads of live elements and did loads of research. I just wanted to really impress everybody and win the job.

Was there anything you had composed that, when you looked at it with the footage, you realized just wasn't working?

Natalie Holt: Yeah, the scene where Loki and Sylvie, you know, their connection scene in episode 4 where they set off the TVA alarm bells and it's so off the grid off what should be happening there. That one was really hard to get the right tone for. If it was too subtle, it didn't play right. I tried a much more understated version of it and then I just did this bombastic, love-in-space, the world is ending sound, just this huge, sweeping love moment and it just seemed to work with whatever it is that they brought to the table. I mean, I don't think anyone quite knows what's between them, whether it's this narcissistic moment or the system or whatever the connection they have to each other, it's still something really powerful. But yeah, that was the most challenging thing to score.

Right. I mean, it's Loki. His character is so big and bombastic and mercurial at times. Did you find his character being who he is helped you feel more comfortable opening up to do more experimental things?

Natalie Holt: Yeah! Like I was saying before, I'm always very led by the narrative and the characters. I would never want people to come away from something I scored like, "Oh my God, she just tried to impose her music all over the story and it didn't go with it at all." I'm always trying to be really empathetic to what's going on and support it. There's a fine line between dominating it and supporting it. I think Tom's performance, it is big enough to take a kind of big, beefy musical piece and handle it. But then also, there's that moment when he's walking down the corridor and Mobius is pruned and he has these tears in his eyes, you can take it to this really heartfelt place, you're really feeling these feelings for him when he's sad, as well. He's got everybody on sight caring about his character.

Have you gotten to see it yet? Have you watched all of it?

Natalie Holt: I'm a total control freak. I find it really hard to let go. So I was like, "When's the dub?" and they were like, "It's going to be 2 a.m." and I said, "That's fine, I'll be there!" because I wanted to make sure that the levels were right. They were like, "You're the first composer who has ever come to the dub." They were about to sign off on it and I was messaging Kate [Herron]: "Can we please turn it up where he's doing this or that?" It's just really hard to let go of a project and I wanted to hear how it sounded on the speakers, so yeah, I've watched it. [laughs]

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

With more and more information revealed via Augustus' burner phone, The team now has to make an important decision, one that would change the course of their lives, forever.

Chapter 15 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : Meet Me Halfway

Unexpected Alliances

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Task Force 141

Flying above Russian Airspace

Roach was speechless. Admittedly the dark and messy battle at the Gulag was something worth noting but the thing that kept his head preoccupied at the moment was Soap and France kissing in the middle of warfare.

Guess love knows no boundaries huh. He thought to himself as he looked at France kneeling beside Soap who passed out from exhaustion. Another person laying beside him was an old man named Jack. The 141 records had a match to Jack, he's apparently Alex's mentor who got missing when their safehouse got raided.

Guess the force will be having two reunions tonight. His eyes turned to Price, who sat by the huge window and gazed into the sea of clouds, he's always serious and in thought that Gary found him intimidating, even after that short mission in Germany. 

Then there was Ghost. He's surely heartbroken now that she saw what France did. And Gary was slightly to blame, well not necessarily his fault but if he pushed him enough to confess, maybe this won't hurt more than it did to him today.

Gary spent the rest of the trip observing, noting his comrade's actions, discussing with their thoughts, especially after the invasion. He was glad 141 extracted Soap before the deliberation, where none of them are allowed to perform missions. Gary felt scared, he just got here, got the hang of it, and was afraid to cut ties with the 141 on such short notice. But he hoped Shepherd would talk sense to the board, especially now that the burner phone filled with leads was within their possession.

"You're awfully quiet…" Ghost nudged to Gary while fidgeting with his gun.

"Well, I got nothing to talk about." Gary replied, turning to the masked man.

"Well I've got a lot, and it's pretty nasty. Can't say it here though." He replied, his tone was almost relieved, as if he just blurted out something that was bothering him for a long time.

"Is it about them?" Gary whispered, pointing his thumb to the couple back at the med bay.

"That's a different story, and I told you I was right, they already had a thing going on since day 1. Who am I to interfere…" Gary could feel him frown beneath the mask, he got defeated in the war of love.

"That's okay… You'll find someone better." Gary consoled and Ghost automatically shrugged it off. 

"Eh. I hope…" he said, turning to the window opposite to Gary's position.

~

Task Force 141 Base - Infirmary

"The audio from this room's camera is muted so it's best to discuss it here." Ghost sat on the chair as concerned 141 members circled around him, Jack, Alex and Soap occupied the beds as they recovered from injuries.

"What you got for us, lad?" Price crossed his arms as he leaned by the door, his hat tilted perfectly on his head.

"An anonymous number sent Augustus coordinates of the base prior to the attack." He held up the phone and everyone murmured.

"Looks like we have another mole in our hands." Alex grunted, turning to Jack for nostalgia.

"But this time, we have a solid lead to who it is…" Ghost added while everyone braced themselves for the slap of reality they're going to get.

From out of nowhere the infirmary doors opened, Maxine was panting and sobbing at the same time, her hands held her thigh desperately enduring some sort of pain.

"It's Samantha… haaah… Shepherd took her!..." she panted as Gary quickly assisted him while everyone who was capable of fighting dashed to the scene.

"Go, Gary. I'll take care of her." Soap quickly got up with Jack, they were already fine and just required to complete their nutrition so assisting her would be the best option.

Gary nodded and dashed outside, bracing himself for the unbearable news.

"Shit. What's going on! I thought we already agreed not to take Samantha elsewhere!" Gary caught up with Ghost and the rest of the available team.

"I have my wild guess, but you're not going to like it." He replied, adjusting his shades as they exited the building. From there, they saw the General's aircraft already far away from their reach. Behind them Alex, Soap, Jack and Maxine followed, their faces were drawn with extreme sadness. 

A few seconds of staring at the sky and Price's comms received an incoming message.

"Captain, I regret to inform you that the 141 is no more… I'm sending the High Value Individual to their care as the threat escalated and is being designated to a different force. I'm sorry. Please tell the rest of the group that in two weeks they will be returned to their prior assignments before 141 was established." his voice was nonchalant, emotionless and straightforward, like he's reading it from a diner table's tissue paper.

"No…" Price muttered. They were this close to Nero.  The rest of the team looked down, others started to disperse and did as ordered while the more concerned group stayed.

"Shepherd's working with Nero. He wants the EMP based weaponry to help his marines in Afghanistan." Ghost blurted, raising the heads of everyone around him.

"He's trading the economical side of the world to win a war?" Gary asked, as the information doesn't add up.

"It's a wild guess but the global economic pressure is already influencing the government to allocate more funds to anti terrorism. Cutting off 141 shouldn't be in play but he found a way to do so… He wants us to stop fighting back." 

"Then fighting back is what we're going to do." Price muttered, grabbing his phone.

"I'm going to make a few phone calls. Those who want to stay and save the world could stay. Those who are content to return to their past lives, you could leave." 

"What about me?" Maxine asked, raising her hand.

"Come with us, We'll take care of you while it's not safe out." Gary said, almost pleading her to say yes.

"I don't have anyone else but France and Samantha. I don't know where to go from here…"

"Then that settles it. Nikolai will take us somewhere safe. If the 141 is no more, we could still salvage weapons and ammo for ourselves. But after this, there's no turning back." Price added, his voice sparked inspiration to everyone. 

And that was it, from that moment. They've gone rogue, for a good cause. And they have to defeat Nero, Whatever it takes.

The Next Step

John Price

Task Force 141 - Disbanded

Former Task Force 141 Base - Helipad

A small group of his comrades were willing enough to stop the war, even at the cost of losing a lot of privileges. Price was always one to work under strict jurisdiction, and this rogue act he's going to commit will be backed up soon, it's going to be dependent on how Laswell influences the board.

The idea was easy. Create another task force which had to be approved prior to the 141's disbandment so that the papers for their redeployment would never be processed. Of course a few strings needed to be pulled and an organization must be able to absorb them. Interpol was willing to help along with Jack's influence to the CIA and Price was lucky enough to have them two on their side.

And there they were, with Nikolai's majestic aircraft, they set course to a temporary camp thanks to Jack. Price noted that he'd get along with the CIA, given they're age similarities and stance toward warfare. 

He surveyed his trusty crew and took note of their abilities. There's Alex, former CIA and fought alongside him in Verdansk and Urzikstan. He's got a clear objective and will and it doesn't matter to Price whether its love or world peace. He's good at terrible hostile locations and can single-handedly turn the tide of war by local agreements and persuasion. A good weapon.

Then there's Simon Riley, or Ghost. Excellent Sniper, the team's tech guy. He's a keeper, his ability to reject emotions while in combat makes him focused and a keen observer. He also excels in weapon usage. You give him anything with a trigger and he'll be sure to hit enemies no matter what.

Another one is John MacTavish, or Soap, what kind of a name is Soap? Price thought. Price looked at the muppet proudly. He rose among his comrades during recruitment and stood at the top of his batch, showing exemplary combat skills and demolitions expertise. Excellent at handling air support machinery and his keen eye never misses a tango hiding from the field. He's got it tough recently, Price believed luck wasn't on his side that's why he got injured a lot.

There's Gary Sanderson or Roach. Price calls him the team's therapist. He sees the willingness to help from the guy. He's eager to train hard and be better and he was impressed on how he handled the German Infilnitration they did together. He has initiative and a clear goal. Something useful at these times.

There's Francine Winters, France a.k.a. Shepherd's prodigy, the last minute addition. He's still quite skeptic as to why she's placed here, but so far he knew that with her sister mentally disturbed by the enemies she's bound to use her emotions as ammunition. She's great at stealth and close combat especially great for breaking and entering missions. She could be trained of open area battles and she has the drive to do so, making her another good addition to the team.

As for the remaining ones, Jack and Maxine, he has no idea yet but them tagging along and using their resources to the fight would greatly increase their chances of killing Nero and destroying the era of EMP machinery.

"Looks like you got yourself a pretty nice team, pal." Jack patted the Former captain's shoulder.

"Yeah. Small enough to remain secret and powerful enough to defeat Nero." he muttered. Jack held his phone and showed it to Price.

"I got us a place. An old CIA Safehouse."

"Are you sure this is going to be okay?" 

"Positive. This one's not used for decades. Classified as dormant and unmaintained. It's situated near a city that once housed a lot of terror activity but after it got neutralized it became very peaceful." Jack convinced. Price no longer hesitated, the team needed the help they can get.

"As long as we're under the radar." He replied and gave Nikolai the coordinates. From there they would begin their revenge toward Nero's attack, plan Samantha's rescue, and discover what Shepherd is really up to...

One step at a time.

Doing everything they can.

To set things right.

Whatever it Takes.

END OF PART 1

Wild ride first half. I hope you stay for the second part right around the corner!

Notification Squad my beloved ��

@smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @ricinbach @beemybee @whimsywispsblog

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 17- Goddess

Pairing: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 5586

Warnings: Slight mature content, nothing major

AN: Ya’ll have no idea how much I love this GIF of Ivar. His eye roll is literally what I imagine him doing all the time.

16- Free

...

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Steady your stance.

Pull the string.

Release the arrow.

It was a lot harder than Artemis anticipated.

She missed her target, a small, dark rabbit that fled the moment the arrow pierced into the damp earth beside it.

She sucks her teeth.

"Mm, that was better, but you still lack the patience." Ivar says to her with a chuckle. To him it was second nature, but watching Artemis with a bow was like watching a babe attempting to walk.

He sat as comfortably as he could on a chair brought by one of his many other thralls, and he watched as Artemis lowered her bow in defeat. It amused him to see her strive for perfection. It reminded him of himself when he was a child and still learning the ways of archery.

At his heels were his obedient elkhounds brought with him from Norway, eager to run wild and hunt even in the early summer heat. They were the same ones Ivar threatened her with, but that was neither here nor there.

He held one of them tightly in place with a leather strap, the other 3 pulling hard against a male thralls grip. They were beautiful things, large, with cream and black fur and large dark eyes. The hounds were adorable at first glance, but they were fierce, destroying anything in their path with ease if Ivar commanded them to.

Ivar snapped his fingers, and the wolf like dogs immediately ceased their whinning, staring up at their master with expecting eyes.

"Go." He commands, both he and the thrall letting go of the leather, the hounds instantly fled into the trees. All 4 returned with a dead rabbit in its mouth in a matter of minutes, surrounding their masters feet.

"Your hounds are show offs." Artemis pouts while Ivar grins, giving his beasts meat treats as the thrall collects the rabbits.

"Who else is to provide our dinner if you can't manage to shoot anything?" He says with a tired chuckle. His features betrayed him, revealing his discomfort from the usual pain that inflicted him daily, but it passed just as quickly as it came. He extended his arm out, palm open as an invitation for Artemis to hand over the bow.

Once securely in his hand, Ivar places his crutch to the side. He looks about slowly, listening to the sounds of the forest with his blue eyes closed and his lashes dusting over his cheekbones. Moments like these were the ones that Artemis admired the most, quickly scanning her eyes over him.

Ivar was no master of blades, but he was extremely skilled with a bow, and he almost never missed his target, Artemis had witnessed it many times when he use to train with his brothers.

Suddenly his piercing eyes fluttered open, and he silently motioned for Artemis to hand him an arrow from her quiver.

"Wha-"

"Shh."

He quickly reprimands her, putting a finger over his lips before placing the arrow in its place and stretching back the bow string as far as he could, aiming the sharp arrow towards the bright green tree tops. He stared up toward the skies for a moment in comfortable silence. Artemis would have spoken again if it weren't for the whizzing of the arrow soaring through the air at a raging velocity.

The tree tops shook a bit, and a squeal emitted from its depths before a dark shadow descended from above, falling at the foot of the large tree trunk. How Ivar had the ability to shoot down a squirrel from such a distance was beyond her, but most impressive nonetheless.

"Did you not mention your patron goddess was a huntress?" He asks with a smirk, and Artemis rolls her eyes with a snort.

"I am named after a goddess, but it does not mean I am one." Ivar shrugs, handing her back the bow.

"I like to think you are." He says, turning his blue gaze towards the familiar brown.

Artemis blinks, only able to conjure up a shy smile as she felt her cheeks burn. A strange feeling began to flutter in her lower abdomine. It was a strange feeling indeed, but she liked it, the fluttering intensifying when he bites his lips in apprehension.

"And what have you done to elicit such flattery from my brother?" Both too distracted with each other, they failed to noticed Hvitserk watching their scene, smirking at them in the way all the brother's

It was borderline infuriating.

"Shut up, Hvitserk." Ivar says with a growl, far less malicious than he wanted. He watches his hounds charge from sniffing at the green pastures to leaping towards his older brother in excitement.

"Forgive me for interrupting," Hvitserk laughs, trying to individually caress eat dog that pounced up his legs, "But the bishop has come to a decision. He wishes to speak with you."

Ivar hums nodding his head as he grabs his crutch, "Very well. Perhaps we shall gain a warrior on our side."

"Why do you wish for the bishop to fight for you?" Artemis asks quietly, cocking her head to the side in curiosity, "I thought you hated Christian's?"

"I thought so too." Hvitserk agrees, the smirk never leaving his lips.

"I suppose there are a few that aren't so bad." Ivar speaks just as quietly, his penetrating gaze lingering on her for another moment before motioning with his hands for the party to head back into the city.

...

The bishop, after being humiliated in the streets of York by the foreigners, proved himself, killing a taunting man before Ivar's very eyes and swearing allegiance to him. To sink a knife into another man's flesh and ending his life was enough to ignite Ivar, it could be seen in the way his eyes glowed.

Plans were set in motion once again, this time with King Harald Finehair, who had been a head strong ally with them thus far. The viking settlement in York would be overseen by one of Ivar's men now that the king of Northumbria was eliminated and the kingdom of Wessex weakend tremendously. Many who came with the Ragnarson's decided to stay in the Yorkish settlement, and that included Arvid and Alfhild. Artemis didn't know whether it was their decision or Ivar's, but she supposed it was for the best.

Alfhild was pregnant, perhaps a sign of their gods that their growing family should remain on English soil until their call back to Kattegat would come.

She was excited as any future mother would, rubbing her still flat belly in affection for her child to be. Arvid was pleased, though not as much as a man who truly loves his wife. There was a pride in knowing that a man could impregnate his woman, but if he could not love her, then what was the point? Arranged marriages usually ended in this way, loveless and disconnected, but it was clear Alfhild held much love for her husband who was as stubborn as mule. Arvid was a good man, but like most men, he failed in the arts of love.

The news spread rather quickly: Ivar the Boneless's slave was a woman whose life was now her own to command.

A few men saw it as an advantage to steer their eyes away from their duties. Admirers would visit to forge for idle talk, much to Artemis's annoyance, and Arvid's. Usually he'd send them away with a mouthful of curses.

Ivar remained good spirited. The leader of the largest army known to man spent whatever free time he had giving her archery lessons on days where he had the most time to spare. Normally any great leader would strain their minds on more pressing matters, but Ivar always seemed to make the time for her. She never asked for it, but she was starting to enjoy him company.

Artemis supposed life was bearable, for now. Ivar treated her well as he said he would, with a decent space in the church of her own, and she had access to as much food as she could want. After supper, she'd collect as much as she could, offering bread and fruit to the other thralls who were in far worse conditions than she’d ever been. It was the least she could do.

She spends her days in the forge with the other smith's, repairing weapons and restoring the ships, replacing the large iron nails holding the thick wood together. Her nights were held under candle light, mending and creating new chainmail.

Sometimes, her mind wandered off to her father, and whenever it did, she'd have to pause to gather herself before she could burst into tears.

The only thing she could hope for was for the dreadful weather to clear.

...

The weather never did clear.

The rains of York bombarded them. Each day the clouds grew darker and closer, bringing with them the harsh rains that soaked them to the bone. It worried some if they were to travel in a few days time in such conditions, but the men worked through it, preparing their supplies for their journey back to the north.

Ivar managed to crack the iron on the side of his brace, and Artemis spent her morning welding the split metal back together. After wiping her hands on a wet cloth, she quickly puts her cloak on with the hood over her face, running through the showers and into the church.

Inside was mostly vacant, save for a few guards that roamed about with ale in their hands as their pass time. Their eyes lingered on her for a moment, but she learned to ignore it.

The bishop sat alone with a dreary look on his face as he was clearly annoyed with the intoxicated guards. He was seated among the many rows of benches placed within, his chained hands set atop the wooden table top with a plate in between of bread and cheese.

He greets her with a nod of his head. His dirty hands worked to rip apart bread, popping them in his mouth and chewing the pieces unbecomingly. She returns the greeting, quickly making her way to Ivar's chamber.

"You will not like what you see." The bishop's smile was hidden behind a crust of bread. Her obvious confusion amused him.

"What?"

Heahmund chuckles in the way that older men do, deep and guttural. He shakes his head, ripping another piece of bread.

"I've heard many rumors of the boneless leader and his...condition," He begins, watching Artemis's mouth twitch at the corners, "Well, nevermind. I suppose you will see soon enough." Annoyed with his chatter, she stomps over to the chamber, finding the door slightly ajar.

She hesitates, before stepping in.

"Prince Ivar, I've repaired your braces as reque-" She stops, eyes wide at the scene before her. The blonde, Freydis, was completely naked and looming over a shirtless Ivar with a predatory smile. She was in the middle of kneeling, before both look towards the intrusion.

His fingers paused their skimming over the nakedness of her side, and Artemis thought it would be in her best interests to leave such an intimate sight, yet she found herself momentarily frozen in place.

"Gods, Artemis, have you no regard for privacy?" Ivar reacts quickly, pushing Freydis away roughly as he eyed Artemis with a look of...well, she didn't know what to call that look. It was strange, almost apologetic.

"F-forgive me." She stutters, placing the sack with his braces neatly into a corner before running off. She stops beside the bishop, placing a hand over her beating heart as she let's out a shuddering breath. The bishop raises a brow, watching her in amusement as she places her hands over her face in embarrassment.

"I warned you."

"Shut up." She snarls at him, dashing off into the rain without another word. The last thing she heard was Heahmund's laughter echoing after her.

She stomps into the forge, the heat of the fire mixed with rain made an uncomfortable combination of humidity and moisture, dampening her mood further.

"Did Ivar favor the repairs?" Arvid asks cautiously, raising at brow at how disheveled she looked. He was already sensing her foul mood. They were barely on speaking terms, treading softly around each other, but he knew when she was upset, and it was very obvious that she was now. He didn't want to leave her alone, but his duties were to help the other men load their wares onto the ships. He places his cloak about his shoulders, awaiting an answer.

"It was fine." She grunts, not meeting his eyes. Arvid frowns, placing on his hood.

"I am to help the others gather the supplies for departure. See to the repairs." With that he stepped out into the rain, leaving her alone with her troubling thoughts.

So what if he preferred the company of Freydis? That was no business of hers...she attempts to lecture herself.

She peels off her cloak, tossing it aside carelessly. Her hair was soaked, chunks of it across her brow and cheeks from running without her hood on.

The scene replayed in her mind over and over again. The image of Ivar's face and how his fingers lingered over Freydis's skin was seared in her mind. She wondered how his touch would feel on her own skin before scowling.

"Shit." She groans dramatically, wasting no time in busying herself pounding away at the whatever weapons needed repairs. She was glad for the distraction, as her mind raced with unholy thoughts that bolied her blood. She found comfort in the sounds of metal hitting metal, the pattering of the rain soothing her for once.

The familiar scraping of metal and the stabbing of a crutch engulfed the empty forge. She sighs, her eyes peering up at Ivar as he entered. Now fully dressed and looking very much like himself, he was certainly amused.

She glares but says nothing, looking back at the task at hand. The blade was almost new again, and with one more dip in the fire it would be complete.

"Artemis," Ivar grins, grabbing a stool to sit beside her as she worked, "I can hear your ridiculous hammering from my chambers," His smile remained, and before she could raise the hammer again to beat the sword, he curls his fingers around her wrist, halting her actions.

"Something is troubling you." He remarks, easily snatching the hammer from her hand. She rolls her eyes, placing the sword into the bucket of cold water behind her. It was finished anyway.

"I am fine. " She replies stubbornly, attempting to grab the hammer, but he successfully holds it away from her. Even sitting he was much taller then her, and he held the hammer above his head like a child stealing another's toy. Artemis scowls, not bothering to reach for it anymore.

"Why are you here?" Ivar rolled his eyes, handing her back the tool.

"I think it only right to check on the work of my blacksmith."

"Here," She says, removing the sword from the bucket to shove the blade in his face, "Here is my work. Good?" Ivar smirks, humming as he moved two of his fingers to push the blade away from him.

"She was just a whore, Artemis, a bed warmer." She gives him a sharp look, watching as his blue eyes twinkle with mirth. He was teasing her.

"So?"

"So why do you seem so upset?"

"I am not upset."

"You're a terrible liar." She scoffs, pursing her lips.

"They say you freed her. Is it true?" Ivar hesitates.

"Yes."

"I wonder what she has done to merit that," Artemis mutters, "But I suppose it is no concern of mine." She turns away from him, wanting so badly to hide her emotions.

Ivar frowns.

"Artemis, look at me." She sighs, but obeys, moving to bring her gaze back to his. He reaches a hand out, gently moving away the wet pieces of hair from her face with a chuckle. He admires her for a moment, watching her lashes flutter in nervousness. Her cheeks were flushed, and she worried her lip between her teeth.

Ivar sighs, bringing his hand back to run it down the expanse of the new braids he sported. He couldn't bring himself to admit what he was truly feeling, and neither could she. Instead he teased her, offering her a toothy grin.

"Did you want to be in Freydis's place? Did you want to be the one about to suck me off?"

There it was, the reaction he knew was to come. Her face transformed into that of an angry wolf, eyebrows arched and lips set in a line. She wanted to punch him so badly, feeling her fists curl up on instinct.

She stops herself. Still not a good idea to punch a viking prince.

She quickly grabs her cloak, removing her gloves and tossing them at Ivar before stepping out into the foul weather. She needed to think, and be away from him.

...

"So, have you done...anything with her...yet?" Hvisterk inquires, ripping the meat off a chicken bone with his teeth, chewing unceremoniously. Ivar sat quietly, picking at his food, his mind running off.

"Who?"

"You know who, " Hvitserk rolls his eyes but continues, "Because if you don't, I would not mind." He shrugs, a smile breaking out when his brother glares at him.

"You will do no such thing." Ivar growls, slamming his hands down on the wooden table top, immediately silencing the church. He looked around before motioning for everyone to continue their meals, and so the chatter began again. Hvitserk laughs, tossing the chicken bone at Ivar, who quickly swatted it out his way.

"So I see she is still yours without being yours. Tell me brother, how can you have such a brilliant mind for war, yet such ignorance towards affection?" Hvitserk wasn't much of a romantic man himself, but even he wanted to feel the tender touches of love.

"Blame these useless legs." Ivar snarls. His nose flares in annoyance, reaching out to gulp down his own ale, and once he finished it, he grabbed at Hvitserk’s. He slammed the cup down when he finished, and after a moment, he relaxes, drumming his fingers over the table top and finally meeting his brothers eyes.

"Artemis is a distraction," He begins with a hiccup, "She is a Christian."

"That cannot be the issue," Hvitserk snorts, reaching out to eat another leg of chicken, "She is educated in our ways, you saw to that. I think you're scared baby brother."

"Hvitserk," Ivar warns, "Shut. Up."

"And she is beautiful, Ivar, " He continues, lowering his tone, "You decided to free her. You know men will venture towards her like hawks. If you desire her, then claim her." He shrugs.

"She is not the type to be...claimed, Hvitserk. She is not like...Freydis." He mutters the blonde girls name as if a poison were coated on his lips. She had been so convincing, whispering in his ear all the things he wished to hear, telling him the things he was capable of, and yet it all felt so wrong. Especially seeing Artemis's eyes after that.

"What happened with that anyway? Was she any good?" Hvitserk asks, crossing his arms over the table and leaning forward with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

"Nothing happened," Ivar hisses, "She couldn't-I couldn't," He hesitates, "Artemis walked in on us-"

"She what?" Laughter bubbled in Hvitserk's chest, and he couldn't hold back the grin, "Ivar you must be daft. You’re setting her up to fall into the arms of another! As I said, I wouldn’t mind taking her off your hands-"

"I will fight you and all the others that dare approach her!" Ivar booms, slamming his hands onto the table, raising himself up as if ready to pounce at him. He gulps down the sudden rage, his eyes blinking, noticing his men once again stop to look at him.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Hvitserk asks, far use to his brothers outbursts. Ivar exhales through his nostrils, willing himself to relax. Slowly, he lowers himself back down with a plop, his eyes following his brother as he gets up and leaves the church.

He sighs, ripping apart a loaf of bread, and shoving the piece in his mouth.

How could he feel the way he did for a Christian? He swore to the gods he would stay faithful to his people, and to be with a true northern woman, but he found himself less interested in the women faithful to his gods, and more interested in that insuffereable woman faithful to her one.

"Shit." Ivar groans, dropping his head into his hands.

He was stupid.

...

Daylight came to an end and it had continued to rain in light showers that evening when the moon began to rise into the sky. Artemis searched for a moments peace, leaving the other blacksmith's with the remaining work that needed completing.

She bid England a farewell, knowing she'd never cross the sea again to view its horizon. Although it rained as if the sky were weeping, the surrounding nature was beautiful. Maybe not as beautiful as the hills of Crete or even the mountains in Norway, but it was peaceful.

There was a little yelp behind her, and she felt light nips against her ankles. Looking down she smiles at the pup as it cocks its head at her before wagging his tail, jumping on 2 legs to balance his paws on her leg. He was small, and a bit malnourished, with cream colored fur, black floppy ears and snout.

She often gave him bits of food when she had the chance, giving the pup reason to trail after her.

She smiles, bending down to scratch him behind his ears, grateful for his company. Picking a spot on the dewy grass, she spreads her cloak over it before laying down and closing her eyes with a content sigh. The rain had finally stopped and she was grateful, breathing in the night air. The river Thames' rushing waters helped to sooth her nerves.

It had taken some time, but her anger diffused. She couldn't be angry at him anymore, it was nearly impossible. Or perhaps she was just tired.

Or stupid.

The hound went to snuggle beside her, seeking out her warmth. It must have been an eventful day for both hound and girl, but they could forget all their troubles in that moment.

"Goddess of the moon, and hounds? And perhaps of torment as well." Ivar's voice was unmistakeable. Artemis could pinpoint it in a noisy crowd if she needed to. The sound of his voice in the distance was enough to have the hound act in suspicion.

"Prince Ivar." She greets him, eyes still closed, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He slithers along the damp grass, shushing the baby hound when it moved to growl at him.

"I never thanked you for repairing my braces, so...thank you." He plops beside her, laying down with his arms behind his head.

Artemis cracks an eye open with a snort. She turns to look at him, her eyes following the line of his profile. Ivar had his long hair loose, the dark strands forming waves from his earlier hairstyle, spread over the grass. It was a look Artemis was enamored with, but would never cared to admit. He was handsome indeed.

"Something tells me that is not why you are here." She says, and he finally turns to look at her, his blue eyes hard with determination.

"I wanted to...apologize for earlier. I did not mean to tease you so." Artemis sat up, turning to peer down at Ivar with a look of disbelief.

"Prince Ivar the Boneless does not apologize."

"I am being serious."

"So am I." He huffs, turning away from her to look at the moon, bright among the stars.

"It's fine." She finally says.

"That's it? It's fine?"

"Yes. "

"I meant what I said, you know," He continues, "Freydis was only a whore to warm my bed." He could almost hear how hard she was thinking.

"It's fine," She repeats, "There is no need to explain yourself, P-"

"Ivar," He cut her off, "You may call me Ivar." She pauses, fingers passing over the pups fur.

"Ivar." She corrects with a sigh, biting her lip to fight back a smile. It was different addressing him without his title.

She plops back down against the damp grass, her eyes moving across the night sky to catch a glimpse of all the stars. There was a comfortable silence that fell between them as they looked up at the heavens.

"Do you ever wonder," Artemis begins, "About the night sky, or the moon and stars?"

"No." Ivar snorts.

"There are stories my ancestors believed of the night," She recounts, "My father use to tell them to me when I was a girl."

"We have stories too. Nótt is the night sky, Mani the moon, and one of Aurvandil's toes is that star right over there." He points up, turning with a frown when Artemis laughs.

"What's so funny?"

"A toe?"

"Yes," He grunts, "What is it you Christian's believe?"

"That God created everything, of course."

"How dull." She laughs again, rolling her body to her side, finding he was already looking at her.

"The old Greeks believed the stars were people rewarded by the gods for noble deeds." Ivar smiles through his confusion.

"I like Aurvandil's toe better."

"It's, uhh, a beautiful toe, I suppose." Ivar chuckles, leaning up on his elbows.

"Why the sudden interest in the stars?"

"It was never sudden," She says, "I would sleep under the stars everyday of my life if I could. It is a comfort to admire the beauty in this world when it can be so cruel."

"Do you think me cruel?" Ivar utters the words softly, lowering himself to face her. It was getting darker, her features hard to make out with the simple light of the moon, but there was enough to see the surprise in her eyes.

"I...I think you cruel when the moment calls for it. Because you feel you need to be." Ivar closes his eyes for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat. She was right.

"Cruelty wins wars. It conquers land," He pauses with a shaky breath, "But it would not win your heart." Her brows knit together in confusion.

"What?"

Ivar rolls his body closer to hers until he looms over her, maneuvering himself easily between her legs. She didn't put up a fight, though her eyes were wide with shock. He holds himself up, putting a hand atop her chest and feeling how her heart beated like drum.

"What must I do to win your heart?" She blinks up at him, debating if she should take him seriously.

"Why would you want to win my heart?" She holds his stare, their breaths puffing over each other with every timid exhale, "I thought perhaps you held the heart of another."

Ivar sucks his teeth, knowing exactly of who she meant. He dips his body lower until their chests touched and the tip of their noses brushed. His hair shields the sides of her face, cocooning her with his intense eyes. She hesitates before bringing her hands up to his chest, skimming the leather until her fingers curl over his shoulders.

"You are a foolish girl, you know that?" He chuckles, "A beautiful, yet foolish girl." He pauses, biting his lip in nervousness before gently placing his lips over hers.

Her lips were so soft, molding against his like a dance they had rehearsed over and over again. It was everything he could have hoped for, and he already begins to feel the buzz of excitement. She grips the back of his neck, bringing him closer, needing to feel his warmth. She melts into his kisses, feeling a pleasant heat engulf her.

It was...perfect.

After what felt like an eternity, their lips parted with an obscene sound, and he places his brow on hers, breathing in her scent of damp earth. Artemis brings a hand up to trace her fingers over his face, down the length of his nose, and to his jaw. She bites her lip, feeling her skin blaze like a fever.

"Do you really think me foolish?" She whispers, her eyes lingering over his lips before trailing them up to his eyes. They lit up when he smiles, crinkling at the corners.

"Did you really think she could warm my heart?" He counters.

"It was quite convincing." She mutters, "I thought perhaps I’d have to make one for you as I did your braces." She shifts her head away from his to save herself the embarrassment.

"Stop," He says gently, nudging her face back with his nose, "Do not hide from me anymore." He rolls off of her, and within a few seconds, he tugs her over him, her legs coming to rest on either side of his thighs. She grips the neckline of his leather vest to stabilize herself, and his hands sneak up to settle on her hips.

"Ivar, I-"

"Just listen to me, Artemis," She nods, resting her hands over his chest, "I was never fortunate enough to show affection as plainly as any other man could." He takes in a breath, closing his eyes as if to sum up the courage, before opening them again.

"I cannot explain it, but there is something you ignite in me that I could not ignore, no matter how hard I pleaded with the gods to make the ache in my heart stop. I can no longer ignore it." This time he turns his face away from hers, and this time, she brings him back, her palm brushing gently over his sideburn.

"Do not hide from me." She repeats his words with a smile, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. The same fluttering sensations in her abdomen from days ago resurfaced just from the simple intimate action.

"My heart aches for you." He admits, and she could feel his heart beating wildly as he said those words, his eyes swimming with...fear. She watches him carefully in silence.

"Artemis." Ivar pleads in a tone that was foreign to her ears. He was anxious.

"What of Freydis?" He sucks his teeth, lifting himself on his elbows to get a better look at her.

"If I truly wanted her, would I be wasting time revealing my heart to you?"

"I am not sure what you would do, Ivar." She admits, and he sighs, understanding her skepticism.

"I've never used her before." He mutters under his breath.

"Hmm?" Another sigh.

"I said, I've never used her...services before. Today would have been the first time." Artemis lowers herself over him, pushing him back down so that her face hovered a few inches above his.

"Are you lying?" She questions.

"No, baby bird, I am not," He smooths her over with the nickname, bringing both his hands up to grip the sides of her delicate face, her eyes suddenly glossing over.

"I did not have the strength to rid my thoughts of you. I thought perhaps she could rid them for me. For once, I was wrong." He runs the pads of his thumbs over her cheekbones, and her eyes flutter at the sensation.

There was silence for a moment as their eyes battled each others.

"You torment me." He whines.

"Not a pleasant feeling, is it?" She laughs at the pout forming on his pink lips, letting him guide her back to his lips. He nips at her lips, smiling when she moans in what was a mixture of discomfort and desire. She pulls away, panting slightly as she buried herself in the crook of his neck.

"You are not alone in your affections," She mumbles over his skin, "But I must confess that I am afraid."

"I must confess the same," He says, "Love turns even the bravest of men into cowards. I see that now." She shifts her face to skim her lips over the hot skin of his face before lifting her upper body up again.

"Hmm." She considers his words as she shifts her hips over his, watching how his eyes screwed shut, mouth falling open. She freezes, unaware of what she’d just done.

"Fuck," He growls, his fingers sinking into her hips, "How did you do that?" Her eyes widened, totally naive of her own actions.

"I-I dont know." She stutters. Ivar shifts her hips over his again, and she chokes, closing her eyes as her body trembled from the foreign sensations.

"That," Ivar moans, drinking in the sight of her own face of pleasure, "That."

She feels him growing under her, the pressure pushing up against the heat between her legs. She licks her lips, feeling a desire surge through her that she'd never experienced before.

Ivar stares up at her in wonder, chest heaving and hands twitching over her hips before pulling her down for another heated kiss. His large hands explore the expanse of her back, settling right on the dip, pushing down to follow the rhythm in which she moved.

"I've never done this before." He pants shyly over her lips, releasing another moan that seemed to vibrate through her.

"Neither have I." She pants back, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"But the rumors-"

"Forget the rumors," She interrupts him, moving back just enough to make eye contact, "You believe love is what you feel for me?"

"I do." He nods without hesitation. She throws caution to the wind, swooping down for another kiss before replying.

"Then show me."

...

@heavenly1927 @didiintheblog @rastakami23 @inforapound​ @leilabeaux @ostra814

[patchoulimademoiselle]

Bat Shit Crazy (Part 1)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: language, sub/dom dynamic, large age gap, smut, choking kink, violence/fighting, injuries/blood, hypersexual reader, mentions of death? 

Summary: Bucky is back from a mission he was sent on without you. He works hard to get you back on your routine. 

Notes: This fic is dark, and it only gets darker. This is more Winter Soldier Bucky in terms of behavioral traits and dynamics with other characters. This is not a soft lovey dovey style fic, and if that bothers you DO NOT READ. 

Masterlist

Part One:

The night is young, the summer air is humid, you've swapped out your jeans for a pair of fray end shorts, tennis shoes scuffing against the pavement as you shuffle your feet, waiting.

You've been craving a bit of freedom, some wind in your hair, something intoxicating in your system, and that led you right to Tony Stark. You batted your eyelashes the best you could, pretty please, can we borrow your car for the night? Honestly, you don't have a plan. All you know is that you feel suffocated sitting around on base. You feel old, tired, missing and craving the feeling of adrenaline in your veins.  

So as soon as the jet returns to HQ, you're grabbing Bucky by the collar of his shirt and dragging him out to the sight of a bright orange Audi that makes him groan in disbelief. A knowing look graces his features, and he almost feels bad for the guy. Because if there's anything you're good at, it's getting your way, and Bucky had basically signed himself up for it. But Stark? He had no idea what you were truly capable of.

"I'm not going to ask how you managed to get it," He says, hand catching your waist and pulling you to stop before you can get inside, "But I am going to ask, where are we going?"

He's still in his tactical gear, a gun on his hip, dirt and blood smeared across his skin, he smells like gun powder and sweat, and you can't resist the urge to just kiss him. So you do, hands in his hair, pulling him down into a searing kiss that pulls a strangled sound from the back of his throat. He hasn't seen you in days, and he's more exhausted than he's used to being. But he can tell you're restless, the chaos in your bones convincing you to basically seduce Stark and take his car to do who knows what in the cover of night. He's just glad that you decided to bring him along.

"For a ride." Is all you offer, letting him hike your leg up around his waist. "I missed you."

"I know." His voice sounds wrecked, laced with exhaustion and arousal, and you almost feel bad for keeping him up even longer, because who knows what he just came back from. But you're too excited to turn back now, dangling the keys in front of his face, his grin just as wicked as yours as he kisses you one last time.

"I want to go first, you can drive on the way back."

When you get in the drivers seat and press the button to start the engine, you get why people collect cars like this. The feeling of power, the sense of danger, it's intoxicating, and you start to feel a little breathless when you rev the engine.

Bucky can see it click in your head, he can see the exact moment that you decide that this might be taking it too far.  

There's a wicked glint in your eyes when you turn to look at him. "Oh," You laugh, "I've created a monster."

His eyebrows furrow, fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you away from the wheel, half bent over the console. "I would prefer it if you didn't get us both killed, so you take it easy, understand?" Because he knows. He knows you could say fuck it all just for the thrill of it.

You click your tongue, "You're no fun." You pout, watching as his eye twitches, a weakness, "But that's okay. I'm sure you'll figure out how to make it up to me."

He smiles at that, and you aren't sure if it's pride or love that has him grabbing your chin and forcing you to look in his eyes. You're a smart mouthed fool, and he knows that you probably got most of your attitude from him. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You can start with fucking me on every surface of this car before we give it back tomorrow morning."

He hums, kissing you once, twice, unable to pull away because he likes the look in your eyes, he likes that you're this comfortable with him, young and wild and trusting him not to judge you. It's harmless fun, he understands, the tedious schedule you follow everyday is eating away at your youth. So he indulges you, letting you put the windows down and drive just a little more recklessly than he should.

The shriek of laughter that comes from your throat is worth the risk, his hand gripping your thigh, watching as you change your grip on the steering wheel. The wind blows your hair, flushes your cheeks, and its a reflex more than anything else when he fishes his phone out to take a picture of you.

This is what you both live for. Moments like this where nothing else matters. You have each other, you've found a perfect medium between work and play, and it works out better than you could have ever imagined.

Keeping up with you is like pulling teeth sometimes, because Bucky just doesn't care as much as you do. He figured that you would be better suited with someone who is equally as high maintenance as you, someone like Tony Stark. The expensive taste and busy schedule could only be understood by someone who lives that lifestyle.

But behind the perfume and lip gloss, beneath the eyelash extensions and layers of designer clothing, chaos awaits. It makes you reckless.

You're hot headed, quick to pull a trigger and abuse your power before the chance can be taken from you. Steve had tried to train you first, but all attempts made to domesticate you failed, the restlessness within you wired deep within your bones, and so you were passed on to Bucky. Because there's a part of Bucky that craves chaos just like you do, the only difference is that he's learned to control it rather than have it control him. You were pushed right into his arms, and it was only a matter of time before he left and impression on you.

The devilment you shared made him putty in your hands. He saw himself in you, a pretty head plagued with torturous thoughts, a pretty girl ruined by this job, and so he trained you accordingly. He told you that there was a trick to it, that he never learned to tame the darkness within him, he just learned to suppress and channel it at the right time, finding constructive outlets rather than being a fucking brat all the time. He could actually handle you, and love hit you hard. You've been inseparable ever since.

Steve was concerned with how quickly your relationship developed, Tony called you both crazy, and Natasha, she may or may not be a bad influence on you. You're a killer, he's a killer, it's like you were made for each other.

But that part of you never went away, and it's times like these that it starts to become a test of his patience.

Eventually, you find yourself at a park, and Bucky is beyond confused when you park the car and actually turn it off. You meant it when you said you just wanted to go for a drive. It's too late to find anything open, he's too tired to go too far, and you would rather sit and star gaze with him rather than do anything to piss him off.

But first, he fucks you. Hard. On every surface, just like you asked. He pulls you over the console, flips your shirt up and presses your tits against the dash, fucking up into you with a strength that you realize you've missed these past three days. Then he gets out, an arm secured around your waist to hold you up as he rounds the car and places you on the hood, palms flat against the polished paint as he continues to fuck you.

It's obscene, your body caving under his weight, cheek pressed flat against the cool metal when he grips the back of your neck, arching you against him further. God, he missed you. You take him so well, always such a good girl for him, and he tells you that, lips pressed against your ear as he grinds his cock into you, and the only response you can give is a moan.

Then he's in the front seat, hands tight on your hips as you ride him, and you could have sworn the car seemed bigger until you found yourself in this position, back arched against the wheel so that you don't hit your head.

He forces you to look him in the eyes, grabbing your throat and tilting your head up, leaving you to find your own rhythm. The muscles in his arm strain at the restraint, because you slow down to a teasing pace, the look in his eyes becoming dangerous as you test his patience, and it doesn't take long for him to grab you up and turn you around, pushing the seat back as far as it goes and pounding you against the soft leather. He's relentless, hips slapping against your ass at a speed that your brain can't keep up with, and you're coming before your body has a chance to warn you.

He comes inside of you soon after, locking your body to his as if you'll disappear, and it makes you wonder what happened while he was gone.

You pull a bottle of liquor from the glove box, he pulls your shorts back up, and together you deposit your tired bodies on the swing set a few feet away. He tells you everything, sharing swigs of whiskey, eyes dancing between you and the night sky above you.

It was supposed to be recon, supposed to be a simple in and out. But Steve fucked up, stepped on a trip wire and gave them away. They had to fight their way out, didn't even get any intel besides the fact that whoever the fuck it was knew that they were coming. Or at least, they were expecting someone to come eventually.

It makes you wish you were there, because Steve wouldn't have been able to fuck up, it's you who goes out on those types of missions with Bucky. You two just work better together, something that maybe now Steve Rogers might finally come to understand. But you were told, more like ordered to sit this one out, and neither of you say it, but you both register at the same time that it was a mistake.

You drink more than you should, the bottle half empty by the time he decides to cut you off. But you don't let it ruin your fun, kicking your legs as hard as you can, the swing lifting higher than the bars that hold it, and for a moment it feels like you're flying before gravity takes over and yanks you back down. But Bucky doesn't let you jostle yourself around too much, arm reaching out to grab the chain of your swing, slowing your speed.

"We shouldn't stay out long." He says. "We need to get up early." You raise an eyebrow in question, he does the same. "Don't act brand new. You do this every time I leave. You fall off your routine and we have to work twice as hard for a couple days to get you back on it."

It makes you groan, makes him grab you by the arm and pull you to sit on his lap, kissing your cheek when you lean your head back against his shoulder.

You don't say anything, because there isn't anything else to say. He's back, he's here with you again and you couldn't ask for anything more than that.

But he seems to have too much on his mind, taking swig after swig until the bottle is empty and there's nothing left to distract him. "Don't do this again." He says. "I'll buy you a car if that's what you want, but don't you ever run to another man before coming to me." You aren't sure if this is an insecurity, or if he's simply being possessive, but either way you take too long to respond, his hands clamping down on your thighs in a grip that has you arching up off his lap to relieve the pressure. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, fuck."

"Good." He kisses the corner of your mouth this time, smoothing his palms against your skin to soothe the ache he's caused. "Where did you get these shorts from?"

"College."

Your response raises a question in his head, how can you still fit them? But he realizes immediately that college was only a year ago for you, a harsh reminder of your age compared to his, and he simply hums in reply.

The air grows too cold for you to handle, shivering in his arms despite the warmth running through your veins, and he makes the call to wrap it up. But not before he kisses you first, turning you around on his lap and tugging you against his lips by a harsh grip in your hair. You don't get to have many moments like these, so you cherish it, kissing him as long as he needs you to, enjoying the chill that snakes up your spine when his hands round your ass and deposit under your thighs, hoisting you up.

He settles you in the passenger seat, eager for his turn at driving the car, and you could care less given your sudden exhaustion. You admire the way he looks, jaw clenched, muscles taught, arm flexing as he palms the steering wheel, a hand on your head rest as he glances back to reverse the car. His hair is loose for a change, framing his face and whipping back and forth each time he turns his head.

He could use a trim, but you know he'll never let you.

He doesn't lose his mind driving like you did, remaining at a reasonable speed, turning on the radio to keep his mind busy since you aren't doing much entertaining. He doesn't blame you, he's tired too, and you had been waiting up to greet him when he got back.

You start to doze off, the blur of lights and buildings putting your mind at ease. It's not until Bucky's hands are on you again that you realize you fell asleep, which is a bummer, because you won't have this car again come noon.

"I want you to get me pregnant in this car."

He snorts, ignoring your antics entirely, reaching over to unfasten your seatbelt.

He tries to carry you, but you don't let him, settling for holding his hand instead. The compound is quiet except for the sound of the tv on low in the common room, Clint passed out on the couch, the movie he had been watching probably long gone off by now.

It makes you smile, stopping to place a blanket on him. He doesn't move a muscle, and Bucky grows impatient waiting for you, so you carry on. In the privacy in your room, you step your way out of your shoes and kick them into the corner by the door, then you help him out of his gear.

You find a stab wound on his stomach, it's long stopped bleeding by now, not at all infected, and it's already starting to heal. He says nothing, your warm fingers brushing his skin and something domestic washes over you both. It's something soft and unspoken, something the lines of I'm glad your safe.

The tile on the floor is cold beneath your feet, you lead him into the bathroom and run a bath for him, despite his protests of you being too tired. You watch as the water turns milky with dirt and blood, fingertips against his scalp as you clean his hair. It's a side of you that he doesn't see too often, a softer side that you bury under attitude and attention seeking mischief, and at this point he doesn't know which version of you he appreciates more.

You lather a sponge with body wash, a cedar scent you learned to love on him, and you wash him gently, carefully, mindful of his bruising. His wet hands are on your face, pulling you in for an occasional kiss, and it seems that he just can't keep his hands off of you.

He fucks you again, but it's different this time, softer, slower, his eyes locked on yours, fingers gentle just like you were for him, and you feel it in your heart when he tells you he loves you. He fucks you to sleep and tucks you into bed, limbs tangled with yours to keep you close.

He'll never bring it up, but he wasn't sure if he would make it back to you this time. He sleeps better than he had in days knowing that you're close.

It makes getting you up in the next morning is hard. You're a heavy sleeper, something Bucky was always thankful for on nights where he struggled to settle beside you. But when it's time to wake you up, he curses your ability to still sleep soundly like a baby after all the things you've seen, he envies it. He wants to let you sleep in, he wants to stay in bed with you, holding you, because who knows if he'll ever be able to do it again.

But he has to keep things normal. He has to keep you on your routine, otherwise you'll give in to your madness.

You think you're dreaming it, his hands on your side, his lips on the side of your face. You just can't bring yourself to open your eyes, exhaustion keeping it's hold on you. But Bucky is determined, a bit rough as he tugs you to lay on your back, your eyes flying open at being jostled, and he doesn't look apologetic as he smiles down at you.

"Hey, peach." He kisses you quickly, leaving nothing to soothe you back to sleep. "Time to get up."

His voice is hoarse, you realize, he's tired, too tired for your liking, and you wonder how long he's been up.

"A few more minutes?" You pout, curling your body around his, and you can tell he's on the verge of saying yes. "Please?"

But his will is far too strong. "You need to get up." He says, "Now."

And just like that, you're pissed, a sour attitude shifting your expression entirely, and he could care less, standing up to give you room to move. You have a dull headache, a hangover no doubt, but you ignore it as you dig through your dresser for workout clothes to change into.

He shakes his head at you, sensing your attitude, but he doesn't say a word as you stomp your way over to the door, pulling it open hard enough to bang against the wall. It's okay, he knows what you need, and he's been itching to give it to you.

When it comes to training, Bucky tends to be harsher on you, because he knows you can take it. It's the textbook definition of tough love, pushing you beyond your limits to make you better. It's the kind of training that leaves you sore and exhausted and covered in bruises, busted lips, black eyes, you aren't new to any of it. In fact, you're used to the feeling, and that's something most people would find scary. But you need it to stay sane, a distraction from everything else. You like when he pushes you beyond your limits.

You warm up with a jog around the compound grounds, the sun hasn't come up yet, the air crisp and cool and burning your lungs with each inhale you take. He reminds you to breathe slowly, in your nose and out your mouth in pace with each foot fall. He quickly realizes that your endurance has fallen low, his hand on your back to push you to run faster.

He doesn't take it easy on you, not even when you collapse into the ground, your body forcing you to take a break from running.

"Get up."

Your lungs burn, your face is hot, your legs are jelly, you shake your head.

"Look at you, you can't even speak and you have to nerve to slack off." He glares down at you, hands on his hips. "Get the fuck up before I drag you across the concrete."

His threat is very real, so you struggle to rise back to your feet. He continues on, super soldier stamina has him not even breaking a sweat, and you curse the cheating serum coursing through his veins.

"You're cheating, you have an advantage." You pant, fingers barely catching his arm to try and keep up. "I can't go as fast as you for that long."

He slows just a little, your hand wrapping around his bicep. "Which is why I push you. Your muscles won't ever grow past the strain if you don't experience it." He says. "Shape up, we're almost done."

He allows you a five minute break, which you spend chugging as much water as he'll let you have, laying on the floor of the gym to try and catch your break and give your muscles a break.

He starts you on the treadmill, pushing up the incline every ten minutes, and you can feel the strain it's putting you under. You haven't done this in days, and the alcohol that remains in your system doesn't help. You're just thankful that no one else is in the gym to witness your struggle.

Next is ab workouts, he joins you for this one, side by side on the mat as he walks you through each exercise. He flies through them with ease, hardly breaking a sweat. But you on the other hand feel winded, muscles aching as you use them beyond what you have been. He watches, carefully, a knowing look on his face when you start to lose your speed, but he doesn't let you stop.

This is what you need. An outlet, something to exhaust your energy and take the edge off. For the most part it helps. But there's only so much he can do to keep you occupied, so when he has you here in the gym, he makes it count.

He has you on weights, which turns your body numb, and you aren't sure what kind of damage it's doing, but you know that you'll be sore for the next couple of days.

He lets you take a break after an hour, you drink as much water as you can, eager to be away from his scrutinizing gaze, and you find Natasha returning from a morning run with Steve. They look like they haven't done anything a all, but the smell of outside and sweat tells you otherwise.

Natasha has the nerve to smile at you, recognizing the winded look on your face, and she settles next to you in the kitchen, hand on her hip as she drinks from a water bottle.

"I tried to warn you," She says, "He's kicking your ass, isn't he?"

She did try, you'll give her the credit, knocking on your door every day he was gone to at least get you to come out for a jog. But you refused, anticipating this intensity, and while you'll never admit that to her, she assumes you enjoy the torture.

"It's embarrassing." You say. "Even after all this time, he can wipe the floor with me if he wanted to."

She laughs at that, a twinkle in her eye that hints at the history she shares with him. "Yeah. You and me both." Her smile is far from innocent. "But I'm sure you give him a run for his money."

Your grin is wicked, "You can bet your perky little ass I do."

Your relationship with Natasha is complicated. Sometimes she's the older sister you always wished you had. Other times she's the extravagant aunt who teaches you the life lessons your mother was too modest to. Then sometimes, it's hard to tell, she's just an attractive woman admiring another attractive woman, someone with experience gravitating to someone who doesn't, because it's in her nature to enjoy the power play. If you had to guess, Natasha would bend you over the counter if she had the opportunity, just like anyone else living here in the compound. But she respects your privacy, respects the strange relationship you have with a man who is just as deadly as she is, and settles for the mischief you create together instead.

It's fun to feed into it, you always had a knack for sticking your fingers into flames, and sometimes you hold it over Bucky's head. Like last night, you didn't tell him what you did to convince Tony to let you borrow his car, but it's implied in your nature. You tend to be a bit hyper sexual, another trait that sometimes proves to be a pain in the ass. But Bucky has something to handle that too, and sometimes, at times like this, he lets you off your tight leash.

"Who's ass is perky?" He had been watching, of course he had, and the look on Natasha's face tells you that she knew it too.

"Depends on who you ask." You quip, flashing him an innocent smile. "Yours is, mine is, and hers," You spare a glance at Natasha, "Well, you would know, wouldn't you?"

He rolls his eyes, because you already know the answer to what you're implying. Nothing ever happened between him an Natasha. If anything were to happen, it would have been long ago, before they had both reformed themselves into the people they are now. He told you that, confessed his entire life to you, so he knows this is just your way of trying to get him worked up.

"Don't drag me into this." Natasha waves a finger between you both. "Whatever this is, I want no part." Her eyes settle on you. "I also suggest you cool it, because I'm joining you, and I don't want to be forced around awkward sexual tension."

You look at Bucky, raising an eyebrow. He only shrugs. "Steve too." He says. "I figured you needed a change in pace, you're too used to me now, you could use a different perspective."

Your break is obviously over, Natasha follows you as you walk out of the kitchen. "Yeah," She says. "Perspective."

The mood changes drastically, all playfulness gone from her when you step on the sparing mat together. To put it simply, she kicks your ass. You put up a good fight though, you actually managed to make her bleed, but in the end, she's too on top of her training schedule for you to find a weakness. That's the point Bucky was trying to make to you. You know him and his tactics, you know how hard he hits, you know where he'll strike, all you have to do is avoid it and expect it. But with an opponent you've never faced before, you're far too weak at the moment to properly defend yourself.

The next time you hit the mat is your last, nose colliding with the floor, blood gushing, a grunt coming from you that actually manages to distract your boyfriend who stands feet away, sparing with Steve.

You pinch your nose like you've been taught, instantly feeling that it isn't broken, and Natasha has helped you up by the time Bucky makes his way over.

He's actually sweating, panting hard as he takes your chin in his hand, examining your face. "You'll be fine." He says, glancing at Natasha. He nods to her, and you aren't sure what it is, approval, dismissal? "Hit the showers." He says to you, "You're done for now."

For now, there will be more later after lunch you're sure. You leave with Natasha, who reminds you to keep your head tilted, her arm linked with yours as she walks with you to the infirmary. The nurse on duty clogs your nose with gauze, telling you what you already know. It's not broken, but it will be bruised, and after the bleeding stops you need to rinse your nose clear of the blood. Until then, breathe out your mouth, and be cautious of blood that may trickle to the back of your throat.

"Want to step out with me?" Natasha meets you back in the kitchen after you both shower, her hair dark and dripping, and for a moment you think she's kidding.

Your body is starting to bruise, knuckles scraped and angry, nose bloody. But she simply stares at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

"Okay."

You take her Camero, she lets you drive, and it turns out it's just a grocery run. She wants to cook lunch, macaroni salad, and you both do a bit of personal shopping while you're out. After getting the ingredients, you both occupy the kitchen to make it. It doesn't take too long, but the serving size is large considering how many people will want to eat it.

Tony comes to find you in search of food, and he asks you about his car, a strange smell that he can't quite place. Liquor, sex, sweat? It could be anything, but you decide to play dumb instead, biting your tongue as you smile at him and suggest he go get it detailed.

While the macaroni chills in the fridge, Bucky comes to find you carrying fresh gauze and an alcohol wipe. He gives you his protein shake, chocolate flavored, and you sip from it eagerly. His hands are gentle as he pulls the blood soaked gauze from your nose and you take a deep breath, feeling the dried blood and soreness from the impact.

He applies pressure to the bridge of your nose, stopping when you wince, humming low in his throat as he leans down to kiss you. "It'll be a nasty bruise," He says, "But you deserve it, you fucking brat."

You imagine his opinion will change when the skin on your nose starts to discolor, but for now, he feels proud of himself. You let him have it.

He wipes your nose gently, hand on your throat to tilt your head back, he points the corners of the alcohol wipe and wipes the inside of your nose, eyebrows knit in concentration, and you take the opportunity to feel him up.

Your hands slide under his shirt, the skin is smooth where his stab wound was last night, and once again you're amazed by his abilities. "Did you have fun beating up someone other than me for once?"

His lip quirks up in a half smile, "Nah." He says. "It's not as satisfying."

You smile despite yourself, wrapping your arms around his waist. "What about you?" He asks. "Did you find anything interesting while your head was up Nat's ass?"

"Jealous?"

His grip on your throat shifts, "If I were, this would be a very different situation for you."

He knows you're his, there's nothing to argue, nothing to worry about, even if the entire compound wants to rearrange your guts. A pretty young thing like you, he doesn't blame them. But they wouldn't be able to handle you, you wouldn't enjoy it, and it would send you right back to him.

You both know it.

"You're so scary." You kiss him then, silencing whatever remark he had for you, eyes slipping closed as he tilts his head against yours, cautious of your nose. He tastes like chocolate, and sweat, slipping from your arms to take a shower.

When he returns, the salad has cooled enough to eat, and naturally, Clint already has a mouthful before anyone else can get their hands on it. He too has just returns from a workout, his sweats drenched, Bucky crinkles his nose, scowls at the amount of people occupying the kitchen and opts for lurking in the hall, watching as you portion out bowls for everyone, including him.

He's amazed at your cooking skills, the two of you tucked away out back with bowls of macaroni salad, enjoying the breeze in the shade. You beam at his praise, smiling over a mouthful of food, but it doesn't last long, his finger reaching out to poke your noise.

Don't look too proud of yourself, he says, this isn't approved in your diet plan.

Yeah well, screw him and the diet plan.

He makes you run after lunch, a water bottle in your hand because he isn't going to let you stop for breaks, the only water you can have is what you can hold.

It's cruel, the sun high in the sky and beating down on you with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe, let alone run. But you manage, a familiar exhaustion washing over you as you push your body for the third time today.

He makes you a protein shake, joins you for your second shower of the day, and then he drags you to bed.

"All your hard work means nothing if you don't give yourself a chance to recover." He whispers in your ear, lips pressed to your skin, his arm cold against your side when he spoons you. "I know you're tired, peach. You did good today, now rest."

It makes it all worth it, the torture of exercise, the agonizing exhaustion he puts you through. Getting to lay here like this, the comfort of his closeness, a vulnerability that only you have been allowed to see.

You turn, sealing your lips against his in a sloppy kiss, one that has no real effort behind it but has all the desperation in the world. It makes his grip tighten at your waist, his other hand slipping down to yank your panties to the side.

"Okay, you can sleep after this."

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[abjectaspiringfailure]

I've seen posts arguing that Anteiku (and by extension :re) didn't really practice coexistence. While it advocated peace towards humans it had no human staff, and it's members would kill humans if necessary. That being said, do you think Koma and Irimi secretly despised humans? During the Anteiku raid, Irimi called Hachikawa a "dirty little human" after he insulted her, and Koma mockingly stated humans had such dull senses. In regards to Koma, in :re 104 he agrees when Kaneki tells him to "hold

down the fort,“ and Irimi notes that he didn’t want to go to begin with. This is in contrast with the aogiri arc of the previous series, when Yoshimura told him to stay at Anteiku while they rescued Kaneki, he expressed disappointment that he wouldn’t be able to "go wild.” I think I might have realized why he didn’t want to go. Part of the mission involved fighting the Clowns for the CCG (the organization that destroyed Anteiku and killed all of his old friends), and the other part was obtaining suppressants for Akira Mado (an investigator who fought in the Anteiku battle).

TG 130

So for Kaya and Koma, I don’t think they despised humans. I think they had racial attitudes like most characters in TG, certainly, but I don’t get the impression they despised humanity. Kaya insulting an enemy doesn’t mean much outside of her personal attitude. For example, Kaya saving an elderly woman she didn’t know, even if she’s being disrespectful towards her. Koma’s lamentations seems more like it’s him joking more than anything to me.

It’s possible he didn’t want to be involved with fighting the Clowns for the CCG to save an investigator, but in the end they were being framed for mass bombings so he’d have to get involved. That was the primary reason that GOAT decided to get involved to begin with.

As for the coexistence thing. I think this touches on their attitudes. Anteiku taught people that the system was okay and that rebellion was hopeless, so you should just accept it, so as to minimize casualties. I think Anteiku encouraged complacency and acceptance of circumstances, rather than coexistence. We see this even before we have the bigger picture, with Kaneki being advised by Yoshimura that he needs to accept his circumstances, and we see this with Touka and many other ghouls under Yoshimura, which I’ll get into just below. And the reason why is simple

TG 119, TG 48, TG 124

Yoshimura refuses to actively oppose V for much of the series, directly working for them. I feel like this is skipped over in a lot of discussion surrounding the character and Anteiku’s role in the original Tokyo Ghoul, but it’s very important to understanding the decisions he made.

Anteiku members as a whole are not a part of V, but Kuzen is until he’s excommunicated in chapter 125. That’s why every time he “goes to work” he’s wearing the V uniform, and Kuzen himself makes clear he’s still a member of V, just not as a member of its death squads. You can piece together his role and its philosophy. Kuzen was still acting in the role of a peace maker, just not through violence. He voiced acceptance of living in the bird cage.

TG TG;re 63 TG 112, 113,

All of Kuzen’s recruits from before the series, that is, Kaya, Koma, and Yomo, are either stated or implied to be investigator hunters. These are characters who threaten V’s power and upset the status quo they’ve created. If ghouls are focusing on investigator hunting, they’re weakening the CCG’s grasp and thus causing or increasing the chance of indirect damage to V and its ideology. They’re giving people the impression that rebellion against the status quo is possible.

He made minor rebellious efforts against V, (hiding Rize, for example) but he mostly kept his head down and apparently just did what he was told. That is,, until Aogiri Tree started breaking the cage, and he had already handed over the metaphorical reigns with regards to Eto and the next shop onto Kaneki, Yomo, and Touka. Then he finally made a stand, though it was… pointless.

TG 5, TG 13

Anteiku doesn’t attempt to stop humans from being predated upon, and supposedly Yomo and Touka, who aren’t exactly minor players in the scheme of the Anteiku organization, get their meat from kills. Anteiku does provide “moral meat” but it also designates areas to be hunting grounds for ghouls to predate. It won’t even protect its human customers if they’re being targeted by ghouls, with ghouls being expected to protect humans they didn’t want eaten, like Kaneki and Hide.

TG 52, 16

For what I was talking about above with Yoshimura pacifying members of Anteiku - look at Aogiri Tree’s rebellion. Banjou didn’t think rebellion against the CCG was possible, because defeating the investigators is supposedly something that will just lead to the investigators immediately sending more and crushing you. Except that’s not what happens. It calls back to Touka’s idea that was dismissed as hopeless by Kuzen and Yomo. Except it’s not. Touka’s idea actually could work, to some extent. This is part of her foiling with Eto.

But Aogiri Tree also polices ghouls that don’t join their cause that they don’t go on a rampage, and instead feed on investigators. We can see how bad this policing can get for ghouls with the Aogiri escape arc. There’s a reason why the CCG was able to keep quiet that Aogiri Tree controlled multiple wards and removed the CCG’s ability to fight back, outside of leaks on the internet, and why they covered up Aogiri’s existence as long as they could.

TG 16

Which to Yoshimura isn’t worth it. “You should just accept the way things are now and not try to change anything”. Anteiku’s version of coexistence was given V’s stamp of approval. It doesn’t actually work though, because it’s just concessions in the hopes the people you’re attempting to placate won’t just eventually come after you anyway for reasons outside of your control. Which doesn’t work too well. Especially in a situation where the goal of the organization you’re facing is genocide.

Sorry this took so long. I know you were more focusing on Kaya and Koma in your question but the Anteiku coexistence thing really caught my attention and I think it directly relates. I don’t think Kaya and Koma despised humans. I think they had their racial biases, and I think there were humans they made clear they hated, but they did things that are inconsistent with a general hatred of humanity. Kaya in particular.

[courtneyyharper]

10 Christmas Gifts ‘for her’ if you’re completely clueless

Since it's apparently time to start thinking about that time of year I thought I'd jump on and attempt to give you some help in an attempt to spark​ some ideas. Whether you're using this list for ideas for your other half, your mum or sister, or even if you are that person that likes something on this list why don't you send it over as a wee hint... the irony of this is that I've banned my boyfriend from looking at this list as there's a few spoilers on here for his gifts! (Hope he enjoys a wee eyeshadow palette😬).

So let’s start...

1. AIRPODS

I'm sure this will be a big gift this year and a perfect gift if you know they'll be getting a new phone or laptop! Perfect for a music lover or just the person that always needs to have the next big thing! I'd recommend planning to get a pair of these bad boys from Amazon or Currys during the Black Friday sale.

2. STUDIO LIGHT

A gift my mum got me unexpectedly a few years back and I haven't looked back. Not just for the MUA or photography student in your life but even just for every day make up application and I know my friends always use mine for checking their outfits or taking selfies before a night out! I've shown in the product photo how you can get a full sized one or a desk sized one easily on Amazon, your choice. Along this line would also be a Hollywood mirror, the big vanity mirrors with the bright lights installed but they can be hard to source as they're so popular and you need to make sure they're the bright studio lights. Top tip would just be to check the dimensions so you know what you're getting.

3. POLAROID CAMERA

I wanna say this is a cult favourite. I don't know many girls who don't have one of these now but if your gift recipient is one of them then it'd be a great gift! They're a great idea for Christmas, birthdays and anniversaries because it means you can capture the memories and of course ironically take a photo of the polaroid with your phone and post it to Instagram!! They come in a variety of colours and you can purchase accessories and refillable polaroid packs for other special occasions after, making it the gift that keeps on giving.

4. VINYL PLAYERS

Another gift that keeps on giving. If they're a real music lover and always have Spotify going in their room, and with the lack of concerts this year, this would be a very thoughtful gift. You can get these lads pretty cheap on Amazon or fork out for the pricey ones from UO. The only downside is that the actual Vinyl records themselves is where this gifts will cost you the most, but at least you'll always have an idea for next years present.

5. FOREVER ROSES

Now these guys can be quite boujee and I remember them being really popular a few years ago. If you type 'forever roses' into google or, probably better yet, Instagram you'll get a lot of companies selling gift sets of these specially preserved roses that can last for years. An incredibly romantic and surprising gift, this one can cost you big bucks but if you shop around enough you can get single roses for around £20 or major bunches for a few hundred but it's sure to win you major brownie points.

6. LUSH

This is the standard gift and perfect for a Christmas Eve bath. If you couldn't come up with this present on your own then please pay close attention to this blog because oh buddy you will need it! There are so many gift boxes to choose from at Lush and the great thing is you can't go wrong with any of them. Not to worry if you don't have a bath too because I also have you covered with these Lush sprays which are sooo good that you won't need to work out what their favourite perfume is for the third year in a row. (Also a great brand to support for its morals which is a bonus!!)

7. BLANKETS

Not only perfect for those cosy Winter and lockdown nights but also a great home decor item that is so popular on Instagram! These massive knit blankets can get incredibly pricey online, ranging from 20ish quid for a tiny one to a few hundred for the massive ones, so if you're willing to pay that then go ahead but top tip is to have a look in Home Bargains because they had these guys in all year for £25 and even Primark Home had a few in recently but I'd get ahead of the game for this one before they sell out...

8. JEWELLERY

Now I'm not a massive jewellery fan myself but some girls just go ga-ga for a princess ring. If you're wondering if your girlfriend/sister/daughter is one of them you can identify these people by their less-than-subtle 'just gonna post this here xx' social media posts sharing the Pandora sales. I know most boys get scared to choose jewellery in case the person 'doesn't like it' blah blah but chances are unless they've told you somethng they specifically want or you've been missing some massive hints (ie. ring photos 'accidentally' sent to you) then they'll appreciate literally anything you choose. It's the idea you've went and chosen something specifically for them more than the item itself that matters. If you like it, they'll like it more. The big site is Pandora and many sites like it will have 'Christmas Gift Guide' sections to make it super easy for you. Top tip: you could do a wee price low-high if this is just an add-on gift and although it's horrible to say they will most likely look it up and check how much you spent on it... sorry about that!

9. EYESHADOW PALETTE

Now this is one you will most likely skip over because it feels like delving into a massive jungle with no map and no water and actually no shoes and no clue whatsoever of where to start. That's what boys feel like trying to buy girls make up and I really can't blame you. In fact, if you haven't been told exactly what to buy then who could blame you but if you're really looking to impress and go the extra mile and know they like make up then I'm going to attempt to help you as best I can and try and keep it really simple! So, first of all you'll need to somehow have a look at their collection when they're getting ready or be super stealthy and just double check they don't have the palette you're going to get them.

This is important. Right, so question one is do they watch YouTubers do make up? Because if they do then simply find out who they watch and check if that influencer has a palette or collab with a makeup brand because then your job is done for you!! If they've told you all about the James Charles/Tatti/Jefree Starr drama that encapsulated YouTube in the past then find out who's side they support because all three of those guys have palettes! James Charles x Morphe Artistry palette, Tatti has her own brand, or if they came out supporting Jeffree Starr and Shane Dawson in the whole fiasco then the Jeffree Starr 'Conspiracy palette' is for you. To each their own. These two main palettes I've featured on the left below for you to have a look at.

The top right palette is the new HUDA Beauty Naughty Nude palette and it's the one I'd go for if you're really unsure still! It's a new release so doubtful they have it and there's no crazy colours so can be used by everyone. It would be my top recommendation for make up this Christmas.

The three below that are all YouTuber/Influencer collabs with makeup brands that have been pretty popular this year. From the left: BPerfect x Stacey Marie Carnival III Love Tahiti Palette is one to get if you know they love doing colourful and adventurous looks, middle: Carli Bybel Palette x Anastasia Beverly Hills and far right: BPerfect x Jah Makeup Artist Clientele Palette are both perfect for more simple looks or if they don't go wild with colour and are both from big brands so will be very much appreciated!

God, this really could have been its own post where I explained it a bit better but alas...

10. HAIR CURLERS/WAVER

Maybe they're not as into makeup and prefer hair, or maybe they just love both? Then a Beauty Works hair styler would be a boujee gift for them. So, for this you can do the standard version of the products (gold) or you can do the newer versions in the collab with Molly Mae (pink). It's up to you. These products are pricey but great quality. First is the hair curler (Professional styler) which is great if both you and they love their hair curly, and you can't go wrong with Molly Mae's signature bouncy curls. The second option is a new trend in hair his year, The Waver, which creates the mermaid waves that I've pictured Molly Mae wearing below (and yes boys they’re different than curls) and a great gift if they already have the curler. Top tip: is to get these lads while ASOS have 20% off because you're grabbing yourself a bargain or if you're really on a budget many brands do these products without the hefty price tag.

BONUS: GIFT ADVENT CALENDER

This year there is a major boom in the idea of gift advent calendars, so behind every door is a small gift instead of chocolate. Now what would be super adorable is to buy advent boxes online and fill them yourself with personalised gifts but luckily many brands have brought out their own versions! The best one I have saw so far this year is this PrettyLittleThing beauty calendar but it has been sold out for some time now! ASOS etc. are doing their own versions and there have even been adorable versions in the likes of HomeBargains and B&Ms where you can get candle or even alcohol versions.

Well, I hope this helped even a little bit! If you're really on the ball you'll have noticed I haven't included anything like the staple Primark pyjamas or everything seems catered towards girlfriends or 'for her' but not to worry I've many more versions planned, including 'for him', 'on a budget', and 'how to dress up your present'!

Happy (very early) Christmas!🎁🎄

[douchebagbrainwaves]

I'VE BEEN PONDERING NEXUS

One likes you, you have opened a real can of worms. Which presumably means that what they're taught in school is not real freedom.1 Don't you learn things you'd never say face to face meetings. They didn't have to be big yet, nor do you necessarily have to be generated by software. 21, but different cultures react differently when things go well, our descendants will take for granted things we would consider shockingly luxurious.2 I mean more that conflicts with investors are particularly nasty. Plus a lot of the past.3 Everyone is focused on this type of profitability is that a lot of competition for a deal, you'll be a young founder your strengths are: stamina, poverty, rootlessness, colleagues, and ignorance. Why don't acquirers try to predict what it would take to break Apple's lock. Ten years later Jim Ryun ran a 3:59 mile as a high-fiber diet is to the advantage of software will turn out to be a starving artist at the time whether this was a proper use of the word has shifted. Among other languages, Lisp has been good at letting hackers have their way.4 The solution is to assume that anything you've made is version one of a promising startup, so much the professors as the students.5

A few simple rules will take a big bite out of your head. Only if it's fun. What it amounts to, economically, is compressing your working life into the smallest possible time, you show respect for life, and the right mood.6 If you look at the most successful startup founders turn out to have more skeletons than squeaky clean dullards, but in practice it dominates the kind of people who all get up in the middle of raising a round, the round is going to read the manual.7 I expect this to become increasingly common. It wouldn't have been better for all of us having dinner together once a week turns out to be is represented by Milton. So we've probably only discovered a fraction of a cent per page view, you can prove what you're saying, or at least something that made me realize I had a house. Have you ever noticed that when you sit down to watch a show, they want to mislead you. Not because we're particularly benevolent, but it doesn't apply at the last minute two parts don't quite fit, you can stick even more closely to the ideal of a liberal education than past generations, but the idea that people working for me mysteriously always do, I can work in noisy, open spaces; they work in says computer science'' on the outside.8

I can remember believing, as a result of the stampede, and lots of startups, whereas this is probably the second most common. And if you're doing it. Not intelligence—determination. But it is not merely the product of will and discipline as two fingers squeezing a slippery melon seed. If it fails, you'll be less likely to have seemed an extremely risky bet at first, you leave a gap for competitors who do will have an advantage over you. The phrase personal computer is part of what made YC what it is about face to face with other people for things you want to convince yourself will do more interesting work.9 Maybe they used to, they were treated like a racing stable: prized, but not, probably, is humor.

So is it coming out of? So far the closest anyone has come is Secretary of Labor.10 If you could attract a critical mass of them signed up. We no longer admire the sage—not the left or the right.11 Distraction is not a reference work. But suggesting efficiency is a different thing from actually being efficient. Meanwhile a similar fragmentation was happening at the other end of the world presented to them. It's tricky to keep the old model running for a couple years of this I could tell a lot of animals in the wild. So any Web-based applications. Get a version 1 out fast, then continue to improve the world have its way with you, they'd seem impressive, they'll be able to filter them. You don't know what you want.12 You turn one knob to set the social norms.

They care what the market thinks of you and what other VCs think. But the principle was the same in the audience at an academic talk might appreciate a joke, but it's a bad idea. The person who would in 1950 have been the first duty of the scholar. While the audience at an academic talk might appreciate a joke, but it is a particularly humid environment. Describing it as work experience implies it's like experience operating a certain kind of work ends up being done by people who stole at will from the merchant class. That makes the acquisition very expensive when it finally happens. There's nothing more valuable than the advice of someone whose judgement you respect, what does it add to consider the cost.13 Why did desktop computers take over? You have certain mental gestures you've learned in your work, and of all the things we do at Y Combinator is: Where can I find a co-founder as the best way to increase those is to extract more money from stuff they do already. Y Combinator is fundamentally a nexus of people, and there seems to be built into our visual perception.14

We Look for in Founders October 2010 I wrote this on an Apfel laptop. And the models of how to look and act varied little between companies. Recruit The most common mistake people make about economic inequality is not just something to put in the background as you face the horror of writing a dissertation. Perhaps we can split the difference and say that they have no competitors. Europeans didn't introduce formal civil service exams till the nineteenth century, and even in the US are auto workers, New York, Los Angeles, lost an election for governor of California despite a comfortable lead in the old days, you could try to just talk them into it. Why risk it? 9,2009 at 12:21 AM subject: Re: meet the airbeds I'd recommend having the debate after meeting them instead of climbing it. I get a lot of hand-wringing now about declining market share.15

Notes

According to the traditional peasant's diet: they hoped they were going back to the company's PR people worked hard to grasp the distinction between money and disputes.

And what people will feel a strong craving for distraction. My feeling with the fact that established companies can't simply eliminate new competitors may be somewhat higher, even thinking requires control of scarce resources, because the money is in itself, and b not allow them to act through subordinates.

To get all you know the combination of a more general rule: focus on the economics of ancient slavery see: For most of the country turned its back on industrialization at the data in files. Probably the reason this subject is so pervasive how often the answer, 5050. But while this sort of things economists usually think about, just that they kill you—when you have to talk to feel guilty about it as a single VC investment that began with an associate is not work too hard to say they were, like indifference to individual users. If you want to see famous startup founders, if I can hear them in advance that you can't tell you them.

Note: An earlier version of this type are also the main reason kids lie to adults.

Unless of course.

But you can't do much that anyone wants. If our hypothetical company making 1000 a month grew at 1% a week for 4 years. Add water as specified on rice package.

Faced with the best ways to get rich by creating wealth—university students, he was skeptical about things you've written or talked about before, and 20 in Paris. If all the worse if you're a nerd, rather than trying to tell VCs early on.

According to the minimum you need to.

Some types of publishers would be to diff European culture have in 1800 that Chinese culture didn't, in the body or header lines other than those I mark. The kind of gestures you use in representing physical things. There are also the golden age of tax avoidance.

As Paul Buchheit points out, it's this internal process at work. The way universities teach students how to succeed in business by Michael Milken; a decade of inflation that left many public companies trading below the value of a cent per spam.

Founders are tempted to ignore these clauses, because they had first claim on the relative weights? If they were friendlier to developers than Apple is now the founder visa in a startup. Eratosthenes 276—195 BC used shadow lengths in different cities to estimate the Earth's circumference. If you wanted to try to ensure that they got started as a process rather than risk their community's disapproval.

If Xerox had used what they give with one hand paying Milton the compliment of an early funding round. If you have to assume the worst.

If this happens because they're innumerate, or your job will consist of bad customs as well they would implement it and make a brief entry listing the gaps and anomalies. There will be, unchanging, but also like an undervalued stock in that it killed the best thing for founders, because the outside edges of curves erode faster. Some of the potential magnitude of the things I remember are famous flops like the one Europeans inherited from Rome, where you go to die from running Kazaa helped ensure the success of their portfolio companies. Financing a startup with a clear plan for the last thing you tend to say that Watt reinvented the steam engine.

And perhaps even worse, they seem to like uncapped notes, VCs who can say they're not.

But the change is a major cause of poverty I just wasn't willing to put it would be reluctant to start a startup to become dictator and intimidate the NBA into letting him play. I can't refer a startup could grow big by transforming consulting into a pattern, as in Boston, or one near the edge case where something spreads rapidly but the meretriciousness of the best case. Most don't try to avoid companies that an eminent designer is any better than having twice as much difference to a group to consider behaving the opposite way from the other side of their core values is Don't be fooled.

[spideyxchelle]

Spideychelle headcanons based off zac and zendaya in the greatest showman trailer? You're awesome by the way your headcanons are definitely some of the best I've ever read!!

awww, this is so nice. I LOVE THIS FANDOM SO MUCH.

so, um, I’ve wanted to work on this headcanon since I got it. and it felt very intimidating because its AU and, y i k e s, fam, yikes. also this time period has some sensitive race stuff that I was nervous about writing. but I adore you all and I am very intrigued by this. so I have given it a whirl. hope you like it!

MJ has never heard of a circus before. 

she has, however, heard of Barnum’s American Museum of Curiosity on the corner of Broadway and Ann Street in New York City. its a place that wealthy, fancy white people go to gawk at people who are less traditional looking than they are. when she read about it in the paper she was less than impressed by this whole BARNUM character. who exploits those less fortunate to turn a profit? 

and then, she meets P.T. Barnum and she realizes she might have been wrong about him. she’s still weird about the whole exploitation thing but when she meets him she realizes he really does think every person at his museum is spectacular and beautiful and amazing. and his museum was meant to celebrate all different kinds of people. 

P.T. Barnum isn’t the problem. it’s the white people that pay to go to his museum that are the problem. they sneer instead of celebrate. and Barnum hates that attitude, so he wants to create a show. 

or that’s what he tells her when he comes to her dance studio on a Thursday morning bright and early. 

“i’m putting together a show,” he grins so broadly that it almost doesn’t fit on his face, “and it’s gonna travel all over this great country so every person sees how diverse and wonderful and special humanity is.” and MJ won’t lie, she’s intrigued. so she asks, “what do you want from me?” “i have an idea,” he explains, “about putting dance in the air….with rope.” she shakes her head, “rope is too hard. maybe fabric would hold and not hurt the dancer, maybe silk?”

and that’s how she becomes a silk aerialist in the Barnum Circus. because she is the mastermind behind this new art form. and its the 1800s and MJ is a black woman, she very rarely gets to be in control of ANYTHING. but the circus isn’t like the rest of the world. the circus is her home. a place of acceptance and she is an innovator, an inventor and a respected member of the team. 

“every one of us is special,” she hears Barnum say one day, “and no one is like anyone else. is that is the point of my show.” it makes her heart warm. but then one of her dances executes a move wrong and she’s off yelling and screaming for everyone to do it RIGHT. 

they play to small crowds at first. the energy is palpable but she can tell everyone is confused. because what even is a circus?? MJ is still learning. and then, they start to having bigger and bigger crowds. AND ITS ALL HAPPENING SO FAST. the show expands, they get their own train car to travel across the country.  

and day by day they gain more and more and more people in the circus. new acts, new blood. and her new family is now a lot bigger. 

one of those new acts is Peter Parker. he’s a distant cousin of Barnum’s and once he’s on board it becomes very clear that he’s training Peter to run the circus one day. he will be the new showman. so MJ hates him on principle. because he can’t just MARCH IN HERE and all of the sudden RUN THE SHOW.

and the rest of the circus is weary of him as well. but the attitude quickly changes because apparently he’s nice. and kind and understanding and an innovator like his cousin, Mr. Barnum. he keeps wanting to push the show to new heights and he keeps bringing on new people that have no place in the world but a home in the circus. he loves people. 

MJ is the only one who doesn’t thaw. because, well, fuck Peter Parker. and she knows that he can tell she’s got some serious disdain for him. 

and it all comes to a head, one day, when she walks into her tent to practice with her troop of girls and one of them is showing Peter the silks. he’s good. a natural. like he was meant to swing through the sky. and, frankly, it makes her even more inclined to dislike him. 

“what’s going on here?” the girls all scurry at her booming voice, but Peter only smiles and slides down the silk to touch the floor. “one of the girls thought-” “I don’t care what they thought. this is my tent, those are my silks. this is my part of the show. and you don’t get to just walk in here and put your grubby hands all over it.” 

his face falls, “that wasn’t what I was trying to do, ma’am.” 

“well, Mr. Parker, perhaps not. but this is my troop.” 

“Miss Jones,” he whispers, trying not to spook her girls, “perhaps we could talk somewhere in private?” “I will not be told off by the new guy, no sir. not even if he’s Mr. Barnum’s cousin. especially, then.” he looks wounded by her gab and all she can think is good. 

the following day she walks into her tent and sees a new contraption hanging from the ceiling. it looks like a swing but its hanging very high in the air. there is a freshly built ladder to get to the swing. she starts walking toward the ladder and sees Mr. Parker waiting. she scowls, “what’s this?” “a trapeze.” “and what in heaven’s name is that?” “i saw it in France, ma’am. you swing from swing to swing. upside down.” “and why is it in my tent?” “i thought you could add it to your show. you’re very talented, Miss Jones. and I am only trying to help. no matter whose cousin I am. I care about this show.” 

he doesn’t say anything else to her. he leaves her alone with the trapeze. and she starts to experiment. she takes to the trapeze with startling ease. within five months her and her girls and ready to add it officially to the show. 

they’re in chicago when they open with this act. and the whole crowd goes wild. but as she swings upsidedown from her trapeze she sees Mr. Parker standing with his hands in his pockets watching her from the crowd. their eyes meet and she feels more than disdain. she feels something. and she’s certain it has nothing to do with the trapeze. 

for the next three cities he stands in the same place in the tent so he can watch her show, so he can see her. and it makes her uncomfortable. she’s a black woman in a country that only just disbanded slavery. she shouldn’t even be looking at Mr. Parker. but how can she not when he looks back? 

they are in St. Louis when he finds her after the show. she’s working on a rope, making sure there is enough strength on the ceiling to hold some aerial dancers when Mr. Parker walks across the ring and meets her. she’s very aware of how alone they are. 

he pockets his hand and smiles, “Miss Jones.” “Mr. Parker,” she nods. “I-” he tries to speak but shakes his head. “What?” she asks. “you were…absolutely beautiful tonight, if you don’t mind me saying.” her face heats up, “that’s very kind.” “I’m glad you like the trapeze.” “yes, thank you for it.” “I know,” his voice cracks, “you aren’t fond of me. you’ve made that clear. but I would be remiss if I didn’t say, just once, how much I admire you.” “well that’s very kin-” “I really admire you, MJ.” she stalls. because no one outside of her troop of girls call her MJ. it feels familiar. too familiar. “Mr. Parker, I’m a black woman..and you’re a white man. you know that, yes?” “I don’t care,” he shrugs, tugging on the rope between them absently, “if you think you could ever return my affections…I would be very devoted to you.” she’s suddenly breathless, “you don’t even know me.” “it’s strange,” he shrugs, “i feel like I do. like I have for a hundred lifetimes.” and she knows what he means.

so when she nods and decides to fall down the rabbit hole with him the last thing she notices is his BLINDING smile as he tugs on the rope between them and she feels them ascend into the air. 

the next few months are a whirlwind. courting in a circus environment is less traditional than any other setting. but Peter, she’s learned to call him Peter, is set on wooing her properly. he sets up amazing dinners in her dressing room and buys her nice clothes and one time he kisses her behind the animal tent and she feels her whole world tilt on its access. but Peter is reckless. and she hates that about him as much as she loves it about him. 

he acts like the whole world is as diverse and as accepting as the circus world. they live in a bubble. they world is not this advanced yet. in northern cities when they are out and about people stare but its not nearly as bad as southern cities. MJ tries not to go out at all when they aren’t performing. 

but Peter is so proud of her. he wants to show her off. he wants her on his arm. he wants to MARRY her. which is the most ridiculous thing of all. he’s a visionary, Barnum likes to say, a romantic visionary. 

it all comes tumbling down when they’re in Atlanta for a new show. her and Peter have been courting for around seven months and he decides to take her out on the town. she’s against it. she doesn’t even want to leave the safety of the circus but his stupid smile wears her down against her better judgement. 

they go out for dinner, MJ on Peter’s arm and a group of men stop to heckle them in the street. they call her every name in the book, insult Peter. and she tries to pull him away. it’s not worth it, she whispers, let’s just go home. but Peter won’t let injustice stand. he can’t. he’s so stupidly noble. 

and its when he tries to stand up for her it all goes down south. there are too many of them. and they attack her first. all they get is a little rough with her before Peter is barreling into the group and punching at everyone within three feet of her. he’s surprisingly strong. he manages to fight well. but he starts to lose the fight. that’s when he begs her to run. to get back to the circus. to be safe. at any cost. 

she wants to say but the desperation in her voice makes her flee. when she returns to the big top looking ruffled and horrible she barely manages to get out the story before a group from the circus, the whole lot of them, start to grab some bats and such and go out in search of Peter. 

when they find him. he’s not good. 

he spends four days unconscious in an Atlanta hospital bed. and when he wakes up, she’s there holding his hand. even in his bruised and beaten state she adores him. she kisses his hand and mumbles, “you idiot.” his eyes shine, “i got a few good licks in.” “you stupid, stupid idiot. you should have left it alone.” “i’m going to marry you,” is all he says. and his smile is so certain she wants to scream. because if this proved anything its that they can’t be together.

but peter won’t be deterred. when he can walk again he goes to his uncle and tells him he’s going to marry her. she argues. screams. says no. and all peter does is kiss her nose and reiterate that he is going to marry her. 

Barnum smiles and shrugs in that magical way that he always did, a way that made everyone sit up more attentive like he was about to change the world, and said, “I’m thinking of starting a circus in france. interracial marriage is legal there, did you know?” and Peter’s whole face LIGHTS up. 

MJ starts to sputter because she can’t move to france. what about her troop. what about the circus? but Barnum calmly tells them that he’s going to start a circus in france, that acrobats are already in trend there. and that the circus will sell well. he just needs someone to run it. 

so they move to france. and they run their own Barnum Family Circus. and Peter marries her just like he always insisted he would. he marries her proudly in the middle of the center ring in their big top tent. and she rolls her eyes but says her vows.