#ive been peer pressured to NOT watch anime

[dullahandyke]

i look at some of u guys talking abt a new show u watched or a new thing u read and im like. holy shit thats a thing u can do. im in awe of u. i spend my time slowly ping-ponging between several interests whose base componants i can never experience because i get scard

[rainerghost]

So some of my friends (who are fans of tadc) fucking kin assigned me to some character that's just a bunch of shapes or something (I think the characters name was like Zooby or something I don't fucking know). This is my breaking point. I'm finally fucking watching it.

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

Snakes an Starships: V

See PART I for general context and spoiler warning.  NSFW PART II PART III PART IV

NSFW

There was simply no mistaking the suggestion in Miho’s tone, nor the way her gaze lingered on certain parts of his anatomy before she made purposeful eye contact.

“Just how often do you get an open invitation from a princess?” she sighed out, and Orion could almost see those words: a sinuous line of seduction dropping a noose around his neck.

“Not often,” he admitted, fingers tensing into fists. “But I’m…”

“Not interested in girls like me?” she finished for him cheekily, and gave a shrug before turning toward the other end of the cabin. “That is a terrible shame.”

“You like to put words in the mouths of others, don’t you?” he said, close behind her, and Miho grinned.

“I do,” she agreed, playfully, and when she lolled her head back, she was satisfied to find it nestled quite snuggly against his shoulder at the crook of his neck. “Are you feeling the need to reciprocate?” she purred, speaking against his throat. “Or is there something other than words you’d like to put into my mouth?”

“Among other places,” he hissed, hands falling against her hips and digging in lightly.

The taste of adrenaline was still bitter on his tongue, and though he was not oblivious to the dangers of becoming entangled with a woman like Miho, she was right. There had been many times, close calls – some far too close – he had returned to the Promise wound so tightly he thought he’d shatter. And there was little release but for his own company, which was a far cry from the intoxicating promise of a woman’s delicate flesh beneath his fingers.

“Go on then, Captain,” she whispered, grinding back against him. “Don’t be shy, take what you want – I won’t complain… unless you disappoint me.”

She had barely uttered the last taunting word when Orion pushed her forward, forcing her to brace with her hands against the cold, metal shutter.

“That’s a start,” she sighed, the heat of his fingers sliding from her belt buckle to curl over the top of her leggings and drag downwards to her ankles.

“Shame you didn’t get to wear your new outfit very long,” he said against the top of her shoulder, his hands snaking over her breasts to the zipper of her jacket.

“Damn shame,” she grinned, spinning around the moment her jacket hit the floor and crushing her lips against his.

This brought back the rush of their retreat, and with the pressure of an entire city looking for a killer squeezing them tightly, their bodies released control and inhibition. In a frenzy of clattering peripherals and the rustle and fling of fabric, both ignored the possibility of the shutters suddenly opening, and enjoyed unconstrained exploration of each other’s bodies.

Orion was unsurprised Miho was no shrinking violet, meeting the urgency of his own mounting want with equal fervour. He put aside the idea she had won her way like this in other circumstances, for it honestly didn’t matter. Instead, with chest heaving and eyes smouldering, he watched as she slid down his body and settled on her knees.

“Sit,” she commanded, wicked smile adding to the already prominent sense of danger twisted with desire in Orion’s stomach. “Or you will fall,” she added, smoothing her palms up his thighs, her thumbs grazing sensitive flesh until her hands fell completely away.

She sat before him, but Orion was under no illusion that she had the power. The slightest touch of her tongue against the tip of his shaft was excruciating, a fleeting shock of exquisite sensation that caused him to shudder and inch forward. When he reached out to cup her cheek, then comb his fingers into her hair, she seemed pleased, and rewarded him with the full, moist warmth of her mouth and the delicious force of her lips around his cock.

Dropping his head back, Orion let out a low groan, tightening his grip in Miho’s hair and drawing her back and forth against him with increasing fervour. And even trough watering eyes, Miho’s focus remained fixed on him defiantly, challenging him not to cum embarrassingly soon while doing everything she could to push him right over the edge. Her tongue swirled purposeful circles each time he passed her lips, and though she braced herself against the bench with one hand, the other encouraged his arousal with playful fingers.

“Grrr, enough!” he barked suddenly, and actually caught Miho off guard when he pushed her backwards.

Just as it seemed her head would crack against the floor, she felt it cushioned by the curl of Orion’s arm beneath, followed by his weight on top.

“Reached your limit alr…” she began cheekily, but her triumphant chuckle was muffled unexpectedly by a kiss so fierce, so deep and probing, when he allowed her to surface she was gasping for breath.

“Ha,” she hissed out. “A man who’ll kiss a girl who not moments ago had her lips around his cock?”

“No doubt they’ve been worse places,” he volleyed, burying his face in her neck and his free hand between her legs.

An intense shock burst through her, so sharp and delightful her back arched against the firm massage of his thumb on her clit, while his fingers curled within.

“Ahh, not the first time you’ve done this,” she exhaled heavily, lips quivering as he dragged his teeth over her shoulder before returning ravenously to her mouth.

His erection pressed insistently into her inner thigh, and she wanted it, wanted to feel full, but Orion was now trailing kisses down her body – over her breasts, pinching one nipple between his teeth before settling his face between her legs and lapping over the inflammation of her sensitive bud.

“Ohhh… yes…” she moaned, sifting her fingers through his hair as he worked magic into her flesh.

A strangely familiar, oddly nostalgic sense flickered within her, along with the intricate motion of Orion’s tongue, but it was fleeting – overwhelmed as she lifted to her pelvis to meet each skilled thrust and the determined suckle over her clit.

“Give me more!” she demanded hoarsely, digging her fingernails into his shoulders and trying to pull him back up.

Orion lifted his head, licking his lips, his chin, and his expression told Miho he was both drunk with carnal desire and fighting it at the same time.

“We can’t,” he panted, shaking his head, but there was a persistent glaze in his eyes that Miho knew well – and it begged him to throw caution to the wind.

“Oh, yes we can,” she growled, shoving against his slightly sweat glistening chest with enough force to push him back into a crouch. “And we’re going to.”

“Miho, wait,” he insisted when she crawled forward against him, curling one arm round his neck.

“You think covert operatives don’t take chemical precautions?” she rasped before biting down on his lower lip, drawing it into his mouth and dragging away slowly, all the while grinding her hips against his lap, coiling her legs around him. “Or is it you think I’m the danger here?”

“Oh, you’re a danger,” he grimaced, his hands gripping her waist, but his efforts to keep her from working his shaft to her impatient entrance, were at best half-hearted.

“Your doctor,” she whispered against his soft earlobe, “gave me a clean bill of health.”

Orion hadn’t thought of that, and it was true.

“Are you sure?” he managed, voice strained, brows knitted, and again Miho had cause to look amused… then extremely serious.

“Let me sink down on you, Captain,” she breathed, speaking the words from one corner of his mouth to the other. “Let me swallow you whole, squeeze you – I want you pulsing inside me, pounding until I cum so hard I forget my own name.”

That was waaaay too much for Orion, who instantly pulled her down onto him, full force penetration, a deep sense of satisfaction and the reckless abandon of his animal instincts.

There were no more words to spare, just the frantic ballet of Miho’s body undulating against Orion, the joining of their bodies a passionate, rhythmic dance set to the sound of heavy breathing, the slap of skin on skin, and the mounting inevitability of each other’s climax.

And when they had rocked the boat – and each other – most thoroughly, Orion drew Miho into his arms and held her as they both tried to catch their breaths, lightly stroking her arm, across her collarbone, her throat, with feather-light fingertips.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, brushing moist hair from her forehead.

“Oh yes,” Miho grinned languidly, bathing in the afterglow. “Is it bad of me to hope this lockdown continues so you can regain some of your stamina?”

Orion exhaled a husky chuckle.

“Yes,” he answered, humming a little before making another addition. “And… no.”

“And for a bounty hunter you came across as such an upstanding individual,” Miho laughed, and stretched out her legs a little, legs that Orion promptly entwined with his own. “Mmm you know, there is only one other man in all the galaxy I know with that tongue technique,” she mused, tracing her fingertip around one of Orion’s nipples, the sharp edge leaving a light scratch mark among many much deeper. “And I guarantee he isn’t enjoying himself nearly as much as you are right now.”

“Tongue technique?” Orion repeated, on the verge of expressing her lack of manners talking about another man while he still held her in his arms, but he shuddered a little as Miho slithered her tongue front he nipple she’d been torturing, to his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t look so offended, Orion,” she breathed, kissing lightly along his tensed jawline. “It’s a compliment of the highest order – believe me…”

A little awkwardly given the compact nature of the cabin, Miho wriggled until she laid on top of Orion, and settled back against his chest.

“Very few can make me see stars like that,” she sighed blissfully. “I almost want to keep you.”

“I’m not a pet,” he frowned, but Miho simple placed her lips over each crease.

“No, but you could be a delectable periodic pitstop in my travels,” she pointed out, the tip of her nose touching his as she peered down into eyes she felt now were also quite familiar.

This time, however, she chose to say nothing on the subject, and kissed him again – this time so very gently, almost tenderly. It made Orion’s head spin a little at how quickly this woman changed gears, but while they continued to be in lockdown, there were worse things in the universe to do… than her.

 Returning to the Promise after the end of the lockdown proved to be a non-event. No one had come to search the water taxi in which Miho and Orion had taken refuge, and Miho found this curious though obviously convenient. She and the captain didn’t talk about what they had done, and they sure as hell weren’t holding hands and singing love songs, but there was an oddly comfortable familiarity between them; both had enjoyed the unexpected interaction, and Miho marked Orion down as definite ‘contact’.

If only Jaxon knew how detailed her ‘little black book’ of names was, he’d be floored.

“You look well rested,” Jazz noted, seeming a little tired herself, rubbing her eyes.

“And you don’t,” Orion frowned. “Everything alright?”

“Well, that depends on your definition,” she shrugged, and opened her mouth to continue when Jenna came racing up to them, Atlas trudging behind her more slowly – probably because he was carrying several heavy looking bags.

“You’ll never guess what happened!” she exclaimed giddily, and Miho arched a brow at her enthusiasm. “Atlas and I got locked into the apartment Jaxon’s source sent us to, and there was only one bed!”

By the time Atlas had stomped to Jazz’s side and dropped his cargo, Jazz was looking at him with interest.

“Don’t gimme that look, Love,” Atlas rumbled, leaning closer to her. “Made her sleep on the floor.”

“Only one bed, huh?” Miho chuckled. “Wow, Orion and I didn’t even get that lucky.”

Orion coughed, then cleared his throat.

“So long as everyone is back in one piece,” he said in a bit of a rush, which awarded him inquisitive looks from both Jazz and Atlas.

“Don’t celebrate just yet,” Jazz edged in. “There’s someone waiting for you. Soon as he saw the Promise, he refused to leave.”

Even before Orion’s head snapped to Miho, she knew who he was referring to, and she rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, well I have questions for Commodore Fairchild myself,” she grunted, and began stomping up the ramp.

But before Miho could reach the bridge, Orion caught her wrist.

“Wait a second,” he exhaled, giving her a slight nudge against the wall.

“You want to go again right here?” she queried, but she didn’t seem really in the mood.

“No,” he shook his head. “There’s something you should know.”

“Clone?” she offered with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“What?” Orion responded, confused.

“No, you’re right,” Miho mused, tilting her head a little. “Cunnalingus instructor? Nah, that doesn’t explain your eyes. Cousin? Brother?”

Orion blinked at Miho openly, and she chortled.

“You’re being ridiculously obvious, Captain,” she laughed, giving his cheek a light pat. “All I need now is some confirmation.”

“Brother,” Orion answered, lifting his chin a little. “We’re twins.”

Miho chewed her lower lip, considering him nose to nose.

“Special arrangement indeed,” she smirked, then began again down the corridor to the bridge.

There, she found Nova and Jaxon ‘guarding’ Antares, who got to his feet and glowered at her fiercely; not to be intimidated, Miho threw down the bag carrying her weapon, and simply stood her ground.

“Are you going to bow to your princess, or say hello to your brother first?” she smile smugly, and Antares swept up to her, incredibly unamused.

“What, are you doing here, Miho?” he growled, but Orion forced his way in between them as the others arrived on the bridge.

“Atlas,” he said, though he was still looking at Antares. “I’d like to get clear of this planet.”

“Can we dump him first?” Atlas grated, handing over what he was carrying to Nova, before flopping into his seat.

“Got a little something on your cape there, Commodore,” Miho grinned around Orion’s shoulder. “Not really up to uniform code.”

“I could say the same thing for you, Princess,” he volleyed coldly. “What were you doing on Eryl, and why are you with him?”

“Why do you insist on asking questions you know I’m not going to answer?” Miho sniffed. “Furthermore, I need a shower, and I’m absolutely starving – Captain?”

“You can use my quarters,” he acquiesced. “Jenna, could you show her where…”

“Stay right where you are,” Antares commanded, and Jenna froze, looking helpless.

“This is my ship, Commodore,” Orion said, his tone tight. “And Miho is a guest, and while she is a guest, my word is the only one that matters. Go ahead, Princess, just follow Jenna.”

Without another sideways glance at Antares, Miho followed Jenna off the bridge.

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here,” Antares dropped crisply.

“I’m starting to get an idea,” Orion answered slowly. “Nova, I think our guest is probably going to need a fresh towel.”

“I got it,” Jaxon ejected, leaping up, but both Orion and Antares barked at him.

“No.”

“Don’t you dare,” Antares hissed, pointing at Jaxon.

“Yes, Captain,” Nova acknowledged, and departed.

“Let’s go and wait in the lounge,” Orion then suggested, and the pair of brothers moved out with Jaxon, to the sound of Atlas cursing the Empire dead-weight on board.

 Miho hummed as the water ran down her body, smiling whimsically as she smeared herself in soapy suds until she was thoroughly clean. She was still enjoying the warmth when there was a solid knock on the bathroom door, followed by the appearance Nova with a towel folded over her arm.

“Princess, the captain asked me to bring you this,” Nova said, loud enough for Miho to hear her.

Without hesitation, Miho shut off the water and stepped out of the spacious glass cubicle, dripping from head to toe.

“Mmm,” she murmured with a slight stretch. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to give me a hand? A couple perhaps?”

“Are you unable to manage on your own, Highness?” Nova enquired, deadpan. “Are princesses not taught to dress themselves?”

“Of course, I can,” Miho admitted. “But team work is always so much more… rewarding.”

“So, you are offering me a reward in exchange for my services?” Nova surmised, with eyebrows raised.

“My goodness, you make it all sound so sordid,” Miho chuckled, then reached for the towel that Nova relinquished.

“When you are ready, I will escort you to the lounge where you are awaited,” Nova declared, then exited to give Miho her privacy.

She didn’t rush, but didn’t dally too long either, and though without her tiara, she entered the lounge most regally with her escort and took stock of the room.

Everyone except Atlas was present, but even under the weight of their combined scrutiny, Miho didn’t seem the smallest bit uncomfortable.

Of course, it was Antares who spoke first, rocking to his feet, tall and straight.

“Imagine my surprise when I met with Admiral Yuul on Eryl – foremostly to determine what he was hauling that could have interested you so much,” he began, taking measured steps in Miho’s direction, “when he pops like a balloon before discussion can even commence.”

“They just don’t make Empire admirals like they used to,” Miho sighed, but there was cheek sparkling wildly in her eyes.

“Or princesses,” Jaxon muttered under his breath.

“Oh I’m the new improved model,” she announced triumphantly, defiance in the tip of her chin, which Antares swiftly snatched, thumb pressing firmly into her skin.

“New model?” he questioned, and he was looking for something, looking at her in a way he never had before.

“Antares,” Orion barked sternly. “Let her go.”

Deliberately, Antares craned his neck to look at his brother, while Miho remained still and remarkably unreactive to Antares’ physical trespass.

“What exactly is going on here?” Antares asked slowly, his gaze loitering on Orion a moment before passing an expectant eye over the rest - finally returning to Miho. “How in this or any other galaxy did you manage to get them on your side?”

“Magic,” Miho offered through a wicked grin.

A moment of silence fell, before Antares worked his jaw – cast Orion a meaningful glance – then resume his assessment of Miho’s expression.

“You didn’t,” he stated, voice low and quiet, perhaps only loud enough for she and him to hear.

“Why don’t you ask the questions you really want answers to, Commodore,” she whispered, leaning a little against his hold to breathe upon his lips.

There was something there in Antares’ face, Miho relished. Though it was ever so fleeting, his conclusion Orion’s reaction was because she had slept with him, did not sit well.

“Did you murder Admiral Yuul?” Antares asked flatly, now seeming in an even fouler mood.

“Oh yes,” Miho confirmed, satisfaction in the way she swaggered to Orion’s side and sat down. “Still, let me throw you a breadcrumb for free and say, I didn’t expect him to deflate any more than you did – though, the look on your face was priceless.”

“Deflate?” Tyrian repeated.

“Yep,” Miho nodded. “No bloody nuggets as expected, just a burst of purple light and then a crumpled skin-sack.”

“What the hell kind of being is that?” Jenna scowled, glancing up from the tablet she was tapping on.

“Yuul was human,” Miho responded. “Was, is, I don’t know what it was I killed, but it wasn’t the actual Admiral Yuul.”

“What are you thinking, Commodore?” Jazz prompted, noting Antares’ pensive silence.

“You didn’t know?” Antares asked Miho seriously, and she straightened in her seat.

“Yuul needed killing,” she explained clearly. “All his other crimes aside, he’s one of my father’s ass monkeys. If that wasn’t him, and it wasn’t, then where is he?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this,” Antares stated, and he had everyone’s attention.

PART VI

[ohmyprodigalson]

Oooh. The team rescues the reader, who was kidnapped and kept there pretty much her whole life. She's kind of like eleven from stranger things. She doesn't talk much, and and shes bad at controlling her emotions. He lies to her, and she gets really angry, asking him "why he lies". This is really specific, sorry about that.

Here you go 😊

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping and child abuse.

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

(Y/N) was sitting on the bed in her hospital room, with her legs crossed. She was holding her doll, made of fabric scraps tied together in knots, tightly against her chest as her eyes darted frantically around the room. Her hair was matted and there was still dirt under her fingernails. She shivered a little, not from the cold but from her fear. The lights in the room were dimmed, and she wasn't wearing any of the monitors usually required by the hospital. Everything scared her because it was so new and strange.

Malcolm stood outside her room, peering in through the window, arms crossed. He was the one to find her, not even five hours ago. Gil walked up to Malcolm, hands in his pockets. He spoke low and quiet. "There's nothing else we can do for her today. Why don't you go home and get some rest?"

"She hasn't said a single word." Malcolm's voice was so quiet, it almost sounded like a whisper. "The only reaction she's had to this whole thing was her screaming when we tried to take her doll from her. I should have known better."

When the team raided the suspect's house, they never expected to find a prisoner in his basement. They were running her face through the database of missing persons, but they had no luck yet.

A nurse went into the room and attempted to put the blood pressure cuff on her and start an IV. Just like the other times before, (Y/N) started screaming. But she didn't fight; she cowered and hid behind her arms.

"Seriously." Gil reached out and placed a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "We aren't going to learn anything tonight. Go home, get some rest, and we'll be back tomorrow to talk to her and figure things out." Malcolm turned to look at Gil. He had a sad look in his eyes as he paused before nodding.

The next morning Malcolm was at the hospital bright and early. One of the hospital's psychologists was there to help talk to (Y/N), but Malcolm wanted to be there, too.

They were all in her hospital room, and the psychologist had set out manipulatives, dolls, pens, and papers on the hospital bedside table pulled in front of her. Gil stood outside of the room, watching from the other side of the window.

The psychologist had a soothing voice when she finally spoke. "Let's start at the very beginning. Can you tell me your name?"

(Y/N) still clung to her doll, and she stared at the wall in front of her. She made no eye contact with anyone and she had no facial expressions whatsoever. Both were signs of extreme abuse, especially as a child. She was broken.

They waited in silence for an answer as the clock on the wall ticked away. The psychologist continued to work with her, and sometimes she would respond with a drawing or an escaped moan. After an hour, they decided to take a break. The psychologist left the room, and Malcolm was compelled to walk over to (Y/N).

He slowly moved to sit down on the bed beside her, so that if she started to freak out, he could stop. She made no movement, so he sat down gently. He spoke quietly. "I know you must be filled to the brink with emotion that you haven't been allowed to show, and I know you must be filled with so much pain." Malcolm paused as he tried to make eye contact. (Y/N) kept her eyes on the bed before her.

"But there's one thing no one has asked you yet." Malcolm paused before continuing. "Is there anything you want? You haven't been able to ask for anything in so long." He bent his head down to tempt her into looking at him. "Is there anything at all that you want?"

He waited patiently for her answer, exuding a sense of calm so that the silence wouldn't feel weird for her. Then he heard her voice for the very first time; it was so soft and meek. "Mom."

Malcolm's heart was immediately shattered. This was no longer a woman before him, but a little girl, asking for her mother. He confirmed this by asking, "You want your mom?" She gave a very small nod. Malcolm looked away from her, up towards the ceiling, and he closed his eyes. He was trying to fight his tears because that was not what she needed right now. Malcolm returned his gaze to her. He was emphatic with every word he spoke. "I promise, I will find your family."

Malcolm went back to the precinct with this goal in mind. He talked to Dani about the progress in finding (Y/N)'s identity, and she had no luck. That's when Edrisa walked up to them with a solemn look on her face. Even Malcolm's smile couldn't put the light back in her eyes.

"I know who the kidnapped woman is." She let the file in her hand drop with a thud on Dani's desk. Dani opened it as Edrisa continued. "I was running the dental records on the skeletons we found in has back yard, and I came across this man, and this woman." She was pointing at the picture in Dani's hands. "They were married, and they had a daughter. I looked them up and found that they went missing twenty-five years ago, but I didn't find any bones that would belong to a child." She paused as Malcolm looked at her seriously, waiting for the dreaded words. "I believe the woman you found was their daughter."

Malcolm's heart sank. He just promised (Y/N) that he would find her family, and he did. They just weren't alive. He took a copy of the family picture from Edrisa and went back to the hospital.

He found everyone exactly as they were before. The psychologist was talking with (Y/N) and Gil was watching from the doorway. "Gil, can I talk to you for a minute?" He stepped away from the room and followed Malcolm down the hall a few paces.

"What is it? What did you find?"

"Long story short, Edrisa found the remains of the couple in this picture, but not the little girl. She thinks that's her, in there." Malcolm motioned back towards the door.

"So we have a name?"

"Yes, it's (Y/N), but that's not the point." Malcolm shifted his weight as he looked away for a moment, and then back at Gil. He leaned in and became animated when he spoke. "I just promised her that I would find her family. They are the only thing she wants in the world right now, and I can't give them to her."

Gil saw the worry in Malcolm's eyes, but he remained calm. "There's nothing we can do about that right now. Yes, it's sad, but let's focus on getting her to talk first. All she's done is scream when someone tries to touch her." His face remained calm and serious as he clapped Malcolm on the back before turning to walk back towards the room.

They watched as the psychologist continued to work with her. When they took another break and everyone had left, she spoke softly again. "Mom?"

Malcolm had feared this. He walked across the room and sat on the bed with her. He pulled Edrisa's photo from his suit pocket and gave it to (Y/N). "Is this your mother?"

She gripped the photo tightly as her eyes grew wide. She nodded.

Malcolm's voice cracked when he spoke. "I'm sorry, but... We found their remains." He paused before clarifying. "They're dead."

(Y/N) shot her head up and made eye contact with him for the first time. It was the first time she had made eye contact with anyone. Then she spoke with force. "No."

All he could do was look back into her broken eyes.

"No! You lied! You lied!!" Her soft voice escalated to yelling and then screeching as she became incoherent. Malcolm jolted off the bed as she started to thrash and a nurse rushed in. She sedated (Y/N), and her sessions with the psychologist were over for the day.

Over the next week, if Malcolm tried to visit, she would start screaming the same words until she was either sedated or restrained until he left. He couldn't see her ever again, because it was detrimental to the progress she was making with the psychologist.

***

A year later, Gil handed Malcolm a small envelope with no address on the front. "Hey, Bright, this is for you."

Malcolm took it and turned it over in his hands. It was made of nice paper, not like the generic ones you find in the store. "What is it?"

"Do you remember that case last year where we rescued the woman who was kidnapped as a little girl? She left it for you. She specifically said, 'Please give this to the nice man in the suit.'"

Malcolm couldn't hide the shock on his face, and he hurriedly opened the envelope as he thanked Gil. The world faded away as he read the handwritten letter.

"I don't know if you remember me, but you saved me a little over a year ago from a very bad man. I hadn't been allowed to see the sun since he took me, and I never had any friends. But that all changed after you and your partners found me.

Looking back, I lashed out at you when I shouldn't have. You were only trying to help me, but I was too hurt to see that. I'm very sorry for the way I treated you, and I hope some day you can forgive me.

If you would like, I thought we could get lunch or drinks some time. I am so very grateful to you for saving me, and I would love to get to know you."

Later that week he met her at a little café for lunch, and he couldn't believe his eyes. She was so beautiful and radiantly happy, like a normal woman her age. What a huge difference a year can make.

[betratyal]

                       the first clear thought in years:                              I REFUSE TO DIE.

JACOB BATALON? No, that’s actually PETER PETTIGREW from the MARAUDERS ERA. You know, the child of AMBROSIA PETTIGREW and ALISTER MCALISTER? Only 20 years old, this GRYFFINDOR alumni works as a DISH WASHER and is sided with HIMSELF. HE/THEY identifies as AGENDER and is a HALFBLOOD who is known to be CUNNING, HUMOROUS and ALLOCENTRIC but also OBSESSIVE, PASSIVE and COWARDLY. 

LINKS – pinboard, stats, app. CHARACTER PARALLELS – winston bishop ( new girl ), sid jenkins ( skins ), charles boyle ( b99 ), edmund pevensie ( narnia ), eric forman ( that 70s show ), bunny corcoran ( the secret history ) AESTHETIC –  ketchup stains on band shirts, an incomprehensible minute long string of curses, tracing the veins in your wrist, the smell of breakfast and fresh coffee, card tricks at three in the morning, freddie mercury impersonations, lying on the floor of the kitchen staring a the ceiling for three hours, trembling hands holding a joint, a guilty grin. HEADS UP – this intro contains mentions of bullying, death, mental illness (eating disorders (bed & bulimia) and depression and anxiety), self destructive tendencies and weed. ive trigger warned each bullet point where it comes up.

history ( 1960 - 1978 )

peter was born to ambrosia pettigrew, a halfblooded scottish-filipino witch. his father -- a muggle -- was not in the picture and hadn’t been ever since he’d learned of ambrosia’s pregnancy; he would sent her money every now and then, in the first years of peter’s life, but was never in the picture. ( and that was for the best, thought ambrosia; she didn’t love him, and he was a muggle, but still --- she was heartbroken and wished that she could give more to her son ).

peter grew up living with his mother in a small flat in glasgow. his grandparents lived nearby, and he spent a lot of time with them. peter learned how to be alone from a young age, with his mother working a lot and he himself lacking friends and peers to waste the days with --- as a child, he delved into fictional worlds ( superhero comics, roald dahl novels, animated tv shows ) and found friends there.

bullying tw / went to muggle elementary as well, but never felt at home there. he was the odd one out: his clothes didn’t fit well, his nervous habits were annoying to his classmates, his words were too clumsy and his eyes too shifty. he didn’t mind not having friends ( or so he thought, until he did have them ) but he did mind being picked on and teased. end of tw

death tw /  his grandmother died when he was seven and it was devastating; peter’s family was so small and compact, his social world so limited, that it had a huge impact. his relationship with his grandfather did grow much stronger through it. end of tw 

and then peter finally went to hogwarts! and peter made friends for the FIRST TIME. and he found a second home! ah, my god --- peter was so happy, he was really so hyped and in awe of his life and his friends. it all felt a bit surreal; especially because he looked up to james and sirius and remus so much --- james, mainly, but all of them were so amazing, and he was so amazed that they liked him, too.

peter always loved heroes. he loves comic books and people who save the day and get the girl and do it all. i think he kind of … projected that onto james and sirius especially? did not know how to do this friendship thing as an 11 year old tbh, was a mess, was blinded by their amazingness damn, and thus kind of hero worshipped them, didn’t see their flaws and faults.

re: peter being a gryffindor; peter admires heroism and bravery and chivalry, and it’s your values that get you sorted some place. and he always did try to be brave, and he WAS in a lot of moments, because he became a damn animagus for his bud! i mean! he was not a hatstall btw  — i choose to ignore that stupid bit of post canon. it took a while for the hat, sure, but no more than two minutes.  

peter was a pretty bad student, to be honest. not because he was stupid, but because he’s just not build for school. deadlines? exams? homework? no thank you --- those were both sources of stress and horribly tedious things and peter was much too occupied with shenanigans and having fun. peter learned better in different settings: he got very good at certain charms because they allowed him to be lazy ( hello, accio! ) and was able to put his mind to becoming an animagus because there was a necessity and a proper motivation, and became better at potions because of all the hangover potions he brew. 

becoming an animagus for remus was ! important ! to peter ! he did it for remus, not because of peer pressure, or anything else — he did it because it was right, and his friend deserved it and ! he did it, too, because he could. sure, his transfig grades may have been more than poor, but the kid did have some skill. he just needed motivation, which mcgonagall didn’t give (bc. she scared him.) and this situation? motivated the hell out of him.

peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t taken a bit aback when he learned about remus’ lycanthropy — not because he was scared of him, to be honest, but he was just ? shocked ? he was more scared for remus, and so sad? so fucking sad for him? : ( he cried

he also loved spending his time at hogwarts playing games; from muggle card games to chess to gobstones. collected chocolate frogs Very Seriously as well, and still does tbh.

weed & anxiety tw / peter started smoking pot in the summer between his fourth and fifth year, and never really stopped. it made him slack more at school, but also eased his anxiety, which had started to develop in his fourth year. as months passed, peter became more and more of a stoner, which made him both more relaxed and funnier, but also … a whole of a lot lazier. end of weed tw

peter had always been a bit … fidgety, easily on edge, a bit nervous, but he’d never really known anxiety until around fourteen years old. his insecurities grew, as he started comparing himself more to his friends and finding nothing but things he lacked in comparison to them, and questions as to why they put up with him. end of anxiety tw

so his schooldays mostly looked like … doing nothing, playing games, having fun with his mates, getting high, forgetting his homework, stressing about homework, and somewhere, in a tiny corner of his being, worrying about the war. whenever those worries started coming up, though, he was able to push them away, because the war was not yet there, not for him at least. there was graduation to worry about first, and once that was done, then he could worry about the war.

post graduation - now ( 1978 - 1980 )

peter joins the order along with his friends, because it was what was right. peter believes in their cause, hates the death eaters, hates discrimination and racism and terrorism --- of course he fucking does, and so he joins, even though he feels incompetent. i have written a lot about this in his app too, which is linked above! 

he starts working as a dishwasher in muggle glasgow, preferring a bit of a break from the wizarding world every now and then. peter’s not unambitious, per se, but he doesn’t have enough faith in himself to try and pursue a career ( and besides, what’s the point in the midst of a war? ). plus, peter doesnt need any more stress on his plate, and dish washing is laidback and at least kind of fun. 

depression & weed & eating disorder (bed/bulimia) tw | peter feels useless in the order, though. he seems to lack the skills, the guts, the everything that the people around him have. before, their heroics mightve inspired him; now they just make him feel like a shitty person, like a burden. peter starts secluding himself a little, hiding in his mother’s home. he smokes more pot. he sometimes goes almost week without seeing someone besides his mum and his coworkers. he watches too much telly and reads comics and drowns in fictional worlds and he becomes depressed. he sinks into it without noticing and can’t come back from it. his eating habits ( which have always bordered on unhealthy ) turn worse; peter binges, and then restricts, falls into a cycle. it’s the only routine he has.

when he’s around his friends, he lives up a little. he cracks jokes and wants to play games and laughs and feels a bit more alive, but he always craves his time on his own. that’s his new way to feel safe: to stick to his newly found routine, hidden in his room, away from reality. | end of tw

the idea to join the death eaters comes out of fear. peter feels like the order is losing, and feels like death is inevitable. i dont know how true this is, but the fact is that the death eaters are ruthless and that his life is on the line because of his position. i wrote a Lot about this in his app too, so if u want a more comprehensive explanation i’d def read it here, its the second hc!

he joins, because he thinks it will give him a saver position. play both sides, play for the winning side --- he’s always had a bit of an opportunistic streak, which definitely helps sway his decision. in the end he’s just afraid of dying, and that’s why he joins; he’s twenty, his life has hardly started --- he doesn’t want to die, no cause is worth that, none at all. ( he should have just ran )

he joins in may 1978, for timeline reasons, so he’s been a death eater for only a few months. it’s been a lot different than he imagined ----- peter thought he’d blend in the background quietly, that he’d have to do shitty jobs ( which is true ) and that he’d be left alone. he underestimated it, because well --- he was desperate when he joined, and he didn’t think about the consequences, and he didn’t think about how voldemort’s cruelty wasn’t just reserved for his enemies but for his followers, too. there’s no stepping out of line with the death eaters; mistakes are not treated lightly and peter --- afraid, a bit of a bumbling idiot, learns this quite soon.

his function is mostly just to be a spy; relay information and share plans, name members, etcetera. he’s not very active because he’s a spy, but i imagine that he is present at the bigger meetings. AND FML HE’S GOOD AT IT! he’s good at lying and sneaking and being a sly bastard --- he used those skills for pranks, once. now he uses it to betray his fellow prankers : D

peter, at that point, hates himself. he’s always had a bit of self loathing, but it’s gained the upper hand now and he’s drowning in it; it does allow for him to ignore his conscience, though, for him to ignore the reality and just stew in his negativity. he’s got a woe is me mentality, for sure, and he’s so god damn passive about his situation. 

timeclash reaction.

peter’s reaction to the timeclash was ... a lot. i wrote about it in his app, so if u want to read my whole ass rambling, i rec that. but tldr: he’s shocked, at what he becomes. the peter he is now is a traitor, yes, but he’s not yet the person who ends up betraying james and lily and harry, who frames sirius --- and it’s ground shattering to find out that he’s on the road to become such a person. 

self destructiveness, weed, alcohol tw / his self loathing grows more. peter wasn’t doing very well before, but the timeclash makes something snap inside him --- he abandons his needs, punishes himself in small ways, loses sight of himself. he drinks and smokes too much. he’s so scared of himself. he’s in hiding, when he first finds out, scared of his friends and the death eaters and the order members and the people from the future who have met a worse version of him end of tws

part of peter is also like “i havent done any of these things yet, i know i am not the BEST person but i am still . not That Bad! stop being mad for something i havent done yet!”

around this time, he’s realising that he can either keep hiding, that he can completely destroy himself and all the ties he has, or he can take this opportunity to change his course. to not become the person all these people from the future know, to change change change, to make up for the wrongs he has committed and the wrongs he will commit if he keeps on going the way he is --- and that’s where he’s at now.

on another hand, he definitely watched all the star wars movies that came out over the past 50 yrs and hates kylo ren and cried when han died!!! he is in awe of the mcu movies but also thinks they did the comics dirty. i wish someone would introduce him to video games bc he would cry from happiness.

personality & details

OKAY onto the fun stuff, that was way too depressing and peter is usually a comedic icon

peter parker is his favourite superhero just because … they share a first name and because peter parker is a bit of an underdog too and peter is just like! amazing! he named his owl parker.

he hates cats. used to love them — he was allowed to take the cat from home with him to hogwarts when he was eleven, but he brought him back home after an unfortunate incident where his cat nearly ate him while he was in his animagus form. “sorry ma, i don’t love him any more. here. have him.”

peter is actually a solid cook. this is because he learned to make some basic food when he was still a kid, first with his grandma, and later on his own. he liked doing it for his mother and he was. .. good at it? peter is also just passionate about food and finds comfort in cooking. breakfast food and baked goods are Prime Food Categories.

he is asexual af, panromantic. has kissed both guys and gals and nb pals but did not like it??? confused. does not understand sexuality and all that jazz but tries not to think abt it because like! he’s got enough stress! doesnt need to think abt this!

peter is also agender, but i think he’s a lot less aware about this, because it’s confusing and so he just tries not to think about it. he does feel okay with he/him pronouns, but just doesn’t feel connected at all to being a boy/man

peter has abandonment issues because his dad, well, never even bothered to be there. not even for a second. he’s just constantly scared that people will leave and it’s funny, because he will probably end up abandoning all of his loved ones KDJFHSDF.

peter is quite non confrontational but also not … meek? he just avoids it, either by physically staying out of people’s way or by dismissing most of the things said and getting out of there. a Passive Kid. 

he’s such a fucking dork i swear to god. but he’s funny! peter is really funny. i deeply believe in this. he makes great puns and is able to just come out of nowhere and make a comment that just. hits the nail right on its head.

peter curses a lot and has a scottish accent and sometimes he will have a minute long cursing session that no one rly understands.

[sunkissluke]

Lifetimes in the Making

just something i’ve been working on and i think i’m happy with it. hope y’all like it. Xox liv. special thanks to @harrykiwiharry for reading and keeping me pumped

you and luke having a lie in on a lazy Thursday morning, normally you have to be at work but the office is closed for a meeting the shop guys are having and you are blessed with a day off, you’re both happy and comfortable laying under the fluffy down comforter and making small talk every now and again when you hear the distinct clicking of claws on the wood flooring from down the hall, as it gets closer you roll to face luke with a lazy grin on your face “she’s here” and he pushes himself up just as petunia ambles into the room and scrambles to climb onto the bed, a task which proves a tad too difficult what with the chew toy trapped in her jaw, luke watches for a few moments before he reaches down to help her as an easy smile of adoration makes its way across his face. once she’s up, with a bit more effort than luke had originally thought necessar, she makes her way across the mounds of comforter separating her from her recently discovered new favorite place, your lap. she plops down, hard and heavy, onto the bed resting her body against your thigh where she proceeds to gnaw on the toy. on her other side luke leans back against the headboard, taking in a view he wishes he could have more often. the gentle morning light playing through the color of your hair making it shine and the smile gracing your soft lips while you play with his princess of a pup. it’s in moments like this when he knows, feels it in the core of his being that he is meant to be yours forever. he can think of nothing he wants more than to wake up with you by his side, smiling and happy and playing with Petunia or who knows maybe in a few years the perfect blend of the both of you. and that thought shocks him, sure he’s thought about you long term but this is the first time his mind has presented him with the idea of a family, shocking but not unwelcome. it’s now that you realize he’s been awfully quiet, not that he isn’t usually but anytime p is around luke is the first to play with her or cling like a needy child to his favorite stuffed animal.

“lu... you alright?” you peer up at him and the look of pure fondness upon his face has your heart skipping beats. his golden curls lit up by the sun falling through the window give him the appearance of having a halo, fitting you think as you so often say that he was sent for you from heaven. his perfect nose and the dimple in his cheek that pops as he visibly comes back to the present and to you with a sweet smile. “yeah love, im...im perfect. everything is perfect.” he leans down to kiss you softly, it starts on your lips but he hen moves to the corner of your mouth and on to your cheek then up to your eye and nose. soft, barely there pecks but they feel like the warmest sunshine in winter and the cool breeze on a beach in summer, if you were into all that you’d say the stars lined up for that moment because as he said, everything is perfect. when he finally returns to your mouth you’re able to return the gesture, instead of the simple brushing of lips you add pressure but still the kiss is soft, sweet, neither one wanting to take away from the enchanted feeling of the separate but entirely same realizations of love and a longing that feels like it’s been lifetimes in the making.

“love you. love you so much, want to be like this with you,” another light kiss to your cheek, “always. forever.” luke finishes with a kiss to your forehead. he watches as Petunia rolls onto her belly, wet nose now making a damp spot on the bed. what he doesn’t take notice of is the soft look in your eyes as the tears that have started to for begin dripping slowly down the cheeks he’s just kissed.

“oh luke.... i love you more than anyone on this earth will ever know,” you rest your head in the space between his shoulder and collar bone before taking a calming breath, unsure of where the rush of emotions came from, “i know i won’t be able to put it into words but i feel so at peace with you. like everything that has happened to me is exactly why i am where i am right now. like, this is crazy, but like ive been- like we have been together before and this time around it’s meant to last. almost as if this has been destined to happen since the beginning of” your voice breaks on a laugh, “i don’t even know what im saying anymore. just that i love you. now, forever, for all the lives i may live in this world. i am yours.”

“and i, belong to and with you, forever yours.”

he lifts a hand and gently brushes away the trails left behind by your tears, his hand staying on your jaw pulling you in for another all encompassing, love filled kiss. and even sweet princess Petunia knows that this love, is one for the story books.

[palechasm]

aloe.

one word drabble prompts

                                   A L O E  -  B I T T E R N E S S            five times hisato was bitter, and one time he wasn’t.

                             (alternatively titled ‘one more time, with feeling’)

i also want to apologize for how fucking long this is?? like wow you go to write six tiny little blurbs and it still ends up being five pages long. i’m so sorry

warnings for death, gore, animal death, animal cruelty, dissociation, and Bad Morals For Children.

i. bitter

          Rain drips down his nose, clouds smothering the dusk sky like wads of soiled cotton, choking the dying rays sunlight. Dark skies and gentle rolls of thunder have marked each day of his life, more surely than the steady cycle of the pale, cowardly moon they hid.

         He was born beneath a roiling, weeping sky, and now it seemed he would die beneath another.

         The forest sings around him, a chorus of frogs loud enough to rival the storm’s lazy rumbling. So often did the rain fall that it seemed the sky itself was too bored with precipitation to make any real effort at a weatherfront.

         But the frogs and the clouds’ cranky grumbling were the only signs of life around him, and his throat was too raw to yell over the noise. Not even a lone doe picked her way through the underbrush, searching for tender greens. Instead the deer dozed in their thickets, safe and dry with fawns tucked safely into their sides.

         Would they object, he wondered, if he tried to join one of the peaceful families? The longer he waited, the less it felt that his parents were fervently searching for him the same way he had for them.

         His throat ached and burned from calling for his mother, and as a trickle of cold water rain down his neck and between his shoulder, another sob hitched in his throat. It hurt, more than anything, to cry. But what else could he do?

         The rain carried him through into the night, and as he knotted his limbs into a tight ball under the feeble arms of a bush, the verity of his situation set into his chest like a sharp, heavy stone.

         Although young, he was both smart and old enough to know that sometimes, children went missing–  and sometimes, they weren’t found.

         He imagined little skeletons littering the fields and the brush, the rice paddies and the bottoms of wells. The lonely remains of little boys who wandered away and died alone, bones poking through the moss and mud like pale branches.

         He thought about the trees that wrapped around him in an endless sea. Thought that this might be where he would die, where the creeping fingers of green weeds would wrap around his bones and hold on forever. The forest would steal him away, and shy, friendly deer would step on his ribs where he lay forgotten.

         Night bled into thin, reedy wisps of dawn. The rain didn’t stop, and no one called his name.

         Something angry and resigned and unfamiliar squeezed his heart.

         They weren’t looking for him.

ii. bitter

         Black feathers ruffle in a thick mane around the bird’s neck as he shakes water from his body, plumage rolling down his back like an inky wave. He’s smaller than Susutori, and the way he postures toward her in greeting, head dipped and wings splayed, makes it evident that he’s younger as well.

         But Susutori is pleased to see him and warbles a pleasant call, her eyes soft and her chest puffed like she’s proud. The newcomer straightens and fluffs his own feathers, their greeting finished. The motherly crow ushers him closer and buries her beak into his neck, preening a spot of mussed feathers.

         “You take too long to visit,” She scolds, once finished. “And Sokkou says you’ve been lazy with summons.”

         “Sokkou is a worm-eater and a suck-up.” The other bird grouses.

         “Watch your words in front of my nestling, or I’ll stick you with your own team of them.” Susu shakes her wings, preening irritably. “We’ll go elsewhere to talk.”

         The black, curious gaze of her companion rests on him, and Hisato stares back with matched interest.

         “I forgot you had a little human.” The large bird cocks his head, neck stretched to peer at him. “It even looks sorta like a chick. In an unfortunate way.”

         Something tugs at Hisato’s heart. For a moment, he’d felt nothing but an easy fascination. It was rare to see any of his adoptive mother’s clan, and there was a sliver of pride in hearing her claim over him- pride, and the warm embrace of belonging. As if he really were one of them, a chick taken under Susutori’s wing.

         And then it’s gone, and he was just an oddity. An it. Something strange and sad to gawk at, a boy with no family taken pity on by a crow. A misfit amongst humans and birds alike.

         A large wing shoots open and clips the crow’s body, sending him flapping and stumbling with a squawk.

         “He’s a human, and he looks perfectly fine.” Susutori bobs down to Hisato’s height, fixing him with a stern, parental look that broke no argument. “Hisato, I have business to attend to. Stay put. I’ll be back to bring you a meal.”

         She turns, meeting her younger counterpart as he rights himself from her push.

         “You have a bald spot on your tail,” Hisato mumbles, giving him a sour glare. “It looks unfortunate.”

         Susutori has the sense to disappear the both of them into a puff of smoke, just as her subordinate’s beak drops open with indignation.

         Then he is alone, separated from the safe and familiar like he’d been just a few years ago.

         This time, crows and humans both far away, and together with their kind.

         And Hisato, alone, the taste of dirt filling his mouth.

iii. bitter

         “Normally we’d use our feathers, but a leaf will have to do.” The oversized crow settles into the dry, brittle summer grass. Hisato feels her gaze, making certain he was beginning the exercise correctly.

         “Susu, is this what ninja do? The ones your friends help, sometimes?”

         “Using chakra is a shinobi skill among humans. Useless, as always.” She mutters, picking at the feathers of a wing. “They leave so many of their own kind defenseless.

         “Among crows, we teach all of our young how to protect themselves. And you must learn, too. There are many humans who won’t understand your position, and may try to harm you.”

         The crow speaks carefully, skirting around words like ‘death’ and ‘murder’, but the message is delivered without question. Hisato would always be in danger from other people.

         “What is my position?” He wonders aloud, cross-legged and raptly focused on the soft green patch quivering on his knuckles. What did it mean to be kept apart from the world?

         “You have no village, so you are unprotected. But with the skill to defend yourself, other humans will be suspicious because you are not a civilian. With no headband or sworn allegiance, they will fear you as a bandit, or worse, a defector.

         “You will be surrounded by threats, Hisato. The day your parents failed you was the day this fate was sealed.”

         Her words are succinct and sharp. His focus is broken and he stares at his mentor, leaf forgotten.

         “Am I… an outcast?”

         The thought is foreign, strange. It isn’t something he’d before considered himself to be, but the more he looks at himself the more the word fit. It wraps around his skin like an ugly tattoo… or a manacle, perhaps, callously locked over his wrist.

         “You are what you are, Hisato. Such is the only certainty in life.”

         He looks down, and begins the exercise again.

iv. bitter

         There is no blood on his hands, he idly thinks. Slivers of dirt ring his nails, but the pale lengths of his fingers are clear of rusty smudges. His palms are unmarred, his knuckles clean, although dry and lightly scarred.

         And yet, a dead man lies a scant few yards away, head lolling and chest peeled open like an overripe fruit.

         A jutsu he would rather not use again, given the others at his disposal. He wouldn’t have used it, if he’d known. Known the reality.

         But he hadn’t realized, hadn’t understood….

         Hadn’t thought.

         Before the man’s blade had sank into his throat in a ruthless swipe, he’d pushed him back, air colliding into his enemy like a wall and when he landed, tearing up dirt and grass and moving to rush back at Hisato with rage in his eyes–

         – when he landed, springing to attack again, Hisato kept pushing.

         Air funneled into the man’s lungs faster than he could think to stop. And when his opponent had finally realized, he couldn’t scream.

         Susutori had given him this jutsu. It was one of the first combat techniques he’d learned, being a simple but brutal attack with little possibility of a counter. He understood, now, how ruthless the crow was. How the battlefield had painted her with blood and resolve, and what it meant that she could kill so efficiently and without remorse.

         Hisato touches a hand to his side, robe torn open with ragged, stained edges. It isn’t deep, or life-threatening, but it could have been. His neck would have been. The wound bleeds like a warning.

         But for how closely he’d let danger touch him, or something else entirely?

         Red coats his fingers and seeps under his nails as he puts pressure on the wound.

         Ruddy dirt cools beneath the gaping corpse, and skyward a trio of scavenger begin to circle. The only blood he wore on his hands was his own, hot and slick from a living, pumping heart. And wasn’t that just as bad? Did it matter what spatters of blood belonged to who, when someone lay dead?

         He approaches the gore, reaches with sticky, warm fingers to close the thing’s eyes. Twin smears are left behind on the pair of eyelids, and he withdraws to clasp at his side once more.

         No matter whose blood it is against his skin, a man that had breathed and walked only minutes ago lays still, the broad wings of a carrion bird spreading to full as it breaks its swoop to perch on his leg.

         Hisato watches as they descend, one by one, a funeral procession claiming his body for the wilds. Nature will cycle his life back into itself, an ever-flowing balance.

         It shouldn’t be disturbing, watching them clean up the terrible mess he left behind. He’d seen death, animals picked apart and others thriving from the end. He’d seen what was left of humans that had met their fate, only the remnants of bleached, stained bones as their final mark of passing. The encounters had never left him feeling sick. Crows, after all, were scavengers at times, and so he’d never thought them gruesome.

         He sits with his head in his hands, folded into himself and wondering if it shouldn’t be him, carried away by the birds in pieces.

v. bitter

         Pillowed in his lap was a shivering dog, coaxed with gentle murmurs and a skewer of trout. Hisato ran a gentle hand across its shoulders, though the fur clinging there was thin and coarse. Strays were not uncommon in villages, no matter how large or small they happened to be. Hisato often sought out the wandering canines enjoyed their simple and easy company.

         They were seemed so uncomplicated, living next to humans who might react a dozen different ways to his presence. Dogs either welcomed you or didn’t.

         But the dog cradled between his knees was different from the other strays he’d befriended, kicked by the world within an inch of his life and chased away from the sunspot he’d been curling himself into. Not hurting a thing, but made to put his tail between his legs regardless.

         His health was poor, fur damp and coming away in clumps on his haunches. He’d chewed his paws until they were bloody, then licked at the wounds until they were hot and sickly. His pads were cracked, his nose dry, his tail limp. There wasn’t an inch of dog that wasn’t sad and broken.

         He would fix this, Hisato decided. He would fix the terrible things this place had done, because what more important thing did he have to do with his time? He would make it right. And when once healthy again, he would take the dog to a kinder, warmer place with dirty streets and plenty of strays to clean them.

         Next to a warm fire, an element he usually forwent, Hisato slept with a lapful of dog that, for the first time in its life, had not been chased or beaten.

         The world was not kind to strays. Many of them never knew a better life or a different place than the one they were born into, but Hisato had been lucky.

         When he left his friend to the bustling streets and overflowing trash bins of a Wind village just west of River country border, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had been so lucky after all. Dogs, after all, were passed over without a thought no matter what village they wandered into. For humans, homes were a tricky thing- stay in one place too long, and someone might notice you don’t have the right papers or the right permission from the right people. Just a group of men in fancy robes, foolish enough that land could be owned like a lifeless commodity.

         He would visit, Hisato told himself.

         And that would have to be enough.

i. warm

         “You’re a weird kid,” Said a well-muscled and ill-shaven man, cigarette dangling from his lips. “But I guess that don’t hurt nothin’.”

         Hisato stared silently, head cocked curiously even as he craned his neck up to watch the gruff, scarred face. A dull, warped shuriken was cradled in his little fingers, the feeble shine of tarnished metal drawing him to the empty field. He’d pulled it front one of the few, lonely wooden posts jutting from one end of the field, scattered with forgotten weapons.

         “What are you even gonna do with that? Can’t throw it anymore, th’ hells been bent outta it.”

         He looked down at the weapon, feeling bashful, and thumbed a blunted edge. “It’s for my mom. She’s a crow.”

         “Don’t you call your own mother a crone, boy.”

         “No, she’s a crow.” He corrected, squinting up. “What’s a crone?”

         The man guffawed, and Hisato wasn’t sure if he was laughing or choking. “Well my ma-in-law is a buzzard, so I’ll give you that one, twerp. I don’t know what th’ hell she’s gonna do with scrap metal like that, though.”

         A grin had split through the rough face towering above him, and he smiled back, enjoying the warmth of the man’s attention. Large, thick fingers reached into a pouch at his hip, pulling out a sharp, crisp shuriken.

         “You want me to teach y’how to throw one of those things or what?”

         At Hisato’s awed grin, he pressed the cold metal into pale, childish fingers.

         “Tell ya what, if you can hit that post I’ll let y’have this one, too.”

[rythmcale]

I dont remember my dreams but i remembered this one.

ok this is going to be disjointed, grammatically incorect, and the writting itself will probably bother some people cause my writting style? is trash.. i think. i had a wild cohesive dream last night and i HAVE to share omfg. i dont often remember my dreams.. if ever. I just started antidepressants like.. a couple weeks ago.  the day before this dream, i was working on my friends car (01 ford taurus limited) trying to replace the front complete struts (fuck those struts omg) been at it for more than a few hours. shit just was not going well. finally got one strut out after a shitload of hammering but the new strut just wont go in and i said fuck this car im taking a break. went inside and joing my already in motion dnd session that we are at level 20 now. were in the last part of hell, beating the shit out of a rockshasha (idk how to spoell it) pentagram on the floor. blood pooling into it. we beat him then get an image of th partys home town being waylayed by an army of demons, devils, monsters of all kinds. we plane shift back, and get told that a rift opened up and they just started pouring out just a few moments after we left to deal with the rockshasha. game ends, and i join my friends with some apex legends for a few hours. my head starts to hurt like a MOTHER and i bow out. i watch some youtube on my couch so the tv is further away from my eyes than the monitor but headache doesnt do away. its one of those headaches that feel like your brain is getting stabbed and it was on my left temple and behind my eye at the same time... i dont get headaches often. so i say fuck it, i take four pills of off brand ibuprofyn, and two off brand pill of acetamitaphin. eat a banana, can of cambells chuncky corn chowder soup and go to bed.

this is the dream i rememebr having after having the most restful sleep i can rememebr having i n a long while.

ok so i remembr three parts of it maybe more. first thing i remember is that it was dark and stormy night (cliche i know just.. just hang on) panning through an apartment you hear thuds and a scream or two. sounds like fighting. after panning through a tossed apartment you finally get to the bedroom where a woman lay exaushted on the bed, room is trashed. (no this is not erotica hang on) man is haunched, twitching somewhat in the shadows of the room. pan to the woman on th bed, its a beaten and bloody blonde.. (for some reason my head went brittney spears idk why) and shes laying there kind of laughing.. chuckling and finally says, i wont let you have your way as the guy lunges for her she takkes a bottle and breaks it over his head. broken sharp bottle in her hand she glances at it as the guy staggers backk some,he growls.  as he begins to lurch forward again lighting strikes and for a flash you see mangled, rotting flesh. eyes white, teeth missing, just horrible to look at, and groaning sniffing the air. presumibly for her. with the last bit of her strength she take the bottle to her throat amiling and crying that she both got away from this thing and sad that she has to die to do it.

im in a funeral home in what i normally wear, jeans, leather jackket, t shirt, bandanna, long hair. (it my dream of course im in it, just put yourself where i put me, im, mine, etc etc) Im standding therre waiting to go in and the same woman comes up beside me. Shes in kind of a black.. or whitish sun dress, depending how the light hist is.. or doesnt? with one of those hat that have a large... brim? (i dont know the word right now, those hat you see woman wear to the beach that offer a shit load of shade) around it. i rmember us chatting a bit and she finally looks at me. immediatly im struck with shock cause she looks like who we are going to the funeral for. I say "holy shit you like just like her" she says "oh yeah shes my twin, the only difference between our features is that i have one eye thats yellow". i then take notice of her eyes and finally ee that one ofo them is indeed yellow. but its not exactly?? its that thing that happens around the pupil that looks yellow and kind of spikey. idk what is called but it covered most of her iris. i told her this, ahs smiled and said "well thank you i never knew that" and walked inside. as i walked inside i saw everyone was well dressed and now im in a black suite and tie, hair pulled back. it was a large church with cielings that i could only imagine how high they were.

im in an attic type place. (presummably the area above the church??) im walking around lookks like the belfry from the first batman movie with michel keaton and jackk nicolson.. they arent there. its dark out, lights kind of peering through the cracks in the roof and slits of the wood. panning through the attic i see a particularly large crack in the wood. just big enough to look through. So i do. i see the guy who played glennn in the walking dead (i cant remember the actors name right now) standing there witha shotgun in hand and ak slung over him. looks like he did in walking dead (only thing ive seen that actor in so far -shrugs-) kind of decked out with grenades, a bullet belt, cargo pants, couple of boot knifes. hes talkingf to someone casually i cant make out what they are saying. suddenly he turns around in shock and yells run as he sharts fireing. can see everything inside the area now. its a long hallway.. ish? type area. looks the same as where i was. you see some creatures coming towards "glenn" and he stops grins and all of a sudden on ether side of the hallway is row after row of automatice guns. and they just start PUMPING they things full of bullets.. like they dont even stnad for more than a few seconds. after that he promptly runs to the side off where i cant see him anymore.

now im standing next to him and the woman from the start of this is in front of us, he hands me a knife. we both go in, shes jerking around but still as beautiful as ever, smiling and saying "you still think that will finish me do you, bwhahahah" you know that anime haha laugh that women do with the back of their hand to their mouth. me and "glenn" go in, with glenn warning of her dragons breath. and suddenly i have her in a choke hold and shes squrming. im trying to twist and break her neck, it just wont happen. shes smiling and i can see red creeping up her throat, smoke coming out of her nose and mouth, eye glowing red, keeps trying to grab my arm with her hands to get me to let go, shes held down by.. something idk. finally i say fuck this, i take the knife to go for her neckk and saw at her neck, its like rubber, the knife wont cut and suddenly theres wood covering it.. wind wipping around us. im sawing at the wood like my life depends on it. then i get pushed back as earth starts to form around her leggs and she gets lifted up on this mound. wood covering the top part of her and her arms. shes still laughing until shes not and is now panicked. im confusedas fuck cause i didnt do anything. th earth hardens into metal. so much pressure that the earth and rock turned to metal. the wood covering the top ortion of her, her arms become limbs of the tree and it grows from the top of her head and fully blooms in an instant then petrifies. her contorted screamingf face like a knot in the tree. "glenn" walks up next to me just as beaten and bloody as i am. somehow we are both standing. "glenn" asks "is it finally over?" and i say " it might.. for a while. but not forever" camera pans out as we both slump to our knees finally breathing and you se a cathedral that the funeral was in on a hude mound of earth and the city, landscape, everything is ether over grown or crumbling like in the game the last of us.

for some reason i think this would a wild ride as a movie or book or well written at all.. fuck

[tessaractwasp]

1-140 question meme

wait you want me to do all of them?? Ok I guess (that actually makes me kinda happy lol)

3 Fears losing people, never getting away from home, and that everyone hates me

3 things I love music, reading, writing

2 turns on intelligence, muscular, socialism

2 turns off misogyny, speech impediments, capitalism

My best friend @queercedricdiggory​   

Sexual orientation not sure tbh. Maybe pan? Maybe lesbian? Who can say. Not me.

How tall am I 5′ 2 3/4″

What do I miss right now my friend Shannon who doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore

Favourite color purple

Do I have a crush yes

Favourite place nature. there’s a brook in the woods at the bottom of the hill I live on. its magical.

What am I listening to right now my spotify playlist “A Very Specific Mood Brought To You By Probably Non-Lesbian Lesbian Icons” currently Mitski’s “A Horse Named Cold Air”

Shoe size 6.5 usually

Eye color cockroach brown

Hair color brown/black (ft hidden rainbow)

Meaning behind my URL oh god I was like 15 when I made it so tesseract from the first avengers but tessaract bc my name is tessa, and wasp bc she was my favorite marvel character. 

Favourite song favorite song????? uuuuuhhhhhhhhhh right now probably Mitski’s “Pink in the Night”

Favourite band pdofjsodifjolikdsjf uhm IDK my top artists rn are Mitski, Hozier and Florence + The Machine

How I feel right now frustrated.

Someone I love @azirahell​

My current relationship status single and READY to flaMINGLE

My relationship with my parents hahahahahahahah better than most I guess. But strained af atm

Favourite season SPRING

Tattoos and piercing i have navel and ear piercings

Tattoos and piercing i want WAY more ear piercings, I wanna get that custom “constellation piercing” thing but $$$$ also tattoos for each of my immediate family members (so far a turtle and elephant on opposite ankles, a power symbol on the back of my neck probably, an origami rose on one tricep, a wolf silhouette on the other)

The reasons I joined Tumblr fandom probably? and peer pressure. thx nadia

Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? only when Im actively texting someone when we go to bed

Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? I dont know have you? (Im kidding, I think I have tho)

How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? depends on where Im going. Anywhere from 5 mins to like 1.5 hrs lmao. But on average, probably 20 mins

Have you shaved your legs in the past three days? I haven’t shaved my legs in the past three years

Where am I right now? My living room

Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? LOUD

Do I live with my Mom and Dad? yes

Am I excited for anything? not really atm

Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? if by sex you mean gender then yes

How often do I wear a fake smile? lmao all the fuckin time

If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? wow uuhhhhhhh I dont know! maybe Lana Parrilla lmao idk honestly!

What do I think about most? how much i suck lmfao

Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? I guess behind, but I dont mind being in front

What was the last lie I told? oh god Im taking care of my little siblings i have no idea

Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online? depends on the person but usually video chatting

Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? no, yes

Do I believe in magic? not really

Do I believe in luck? depends on the day

What’s the weather like right now? warm. It’s almost 80, but its getting dark out so it feels nice.

What was the last book I’ve read? rn Im in the middle of Scythe by Neal Shusterman (bc hes putting my name in the third book in the series!!)

Do I have any nicknames? Tess, T, T-Cake, Tessticle

Do I spend money or save it? SPEND lmao

Can I touch my nose with a tounge? no

Favourite animal? hmmm I guess dog

What was I doing last night at 12 AM? lying on the couch on tumblr

What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? oh boy idk

What is my favorite word? people have favorite words?

My top 5 blogs on tumblr bruh idk I dont pay attention to anything

If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? be fucking decent already

Do I have any relatives in jail? not at the moment that Im aware of

What is my current desktop picture? Thranduil Tauriel and Legolas lol

Had sex? depends on ur definition

Bought condoms? GLOW IN THE DARK

Gotten pregnant? nope

Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? no

Had job? yes

Smoked weed? yes

Smoked cigarettes? no

Drank alcohol? yes

Am I a vegetarian/vegan? no

Been overweight? technically I think? But not really

Been underweight? yes

Gotten my heart broken? yes

Been to prom? yes

Been in airplane? well yea but I was 4 so I dont remember it so I dont count it

Learned another language? bruh i tried

Wore make up? yes

Dyed my hair? yes

Had a surgery? yes

Met someone famous? yes

Stalked someone on a social network? who hasnt??

Been fishing? yeah but I dont really remember it

Been rejected by a crush? yes

What do I want for birthday? Idk dude thats so far away

Do I like my handwriting? sometimes

Where do I want to live when older? i have no idea

Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? never snuck out but yeah Ive been caught doing “anything bad”

What I’m really bad at everything lmao. Sports I guess

What my greatest achievments are my writing probably

The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me one time when I was like 14 my mom and I were arguing and she told me it wouldnt be long before I was selling myself on the streets of new york

What I’d do if I won in a lottery ugh pay off my debt and buy a few of the things i want the most

What do I like about myself hairrr

My closest Tumblr friend like tumblr-only? probably leakedinlondon bc shes the only person ive ever talked to on tumblr lmao

Any question you’d like? what

Are you outgoing or shy? yes

What kind of people are you attracted to? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ femme wlw mostly i guess???

Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? no but i wish

Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? no

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? my friend Kate who lives in AZ now :(

What does the most recent text that you sent say? “Yeah I just did, nothing yet”

What are your 5 favorite songs right now? Mitski, “Nobody” Florence + The Machine, “Grace” Hozier, “Wasteland, Baby” Mitski, “Pink in the Night” Mitski, “Strawberry Blond” in no particular order

Do you like it when people play with your hair? YESS

Do you think there is life on other planets? yes

Do you like bubble baths? yes but has tiny tub :(

Do you like your neighbors? i dont really know most of them but the ones I do, yeah for the most part

Where would you like to travel? All over the place, but Cuba more than anything

Favorite part of your daily routine? cuddling w my doogggggg

What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? muffin toppp

What do you do when you wake up? try to go back to sleep

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? yes

Do you ever want to get married? idk maybe

If your hair long enough for a pony tail? lmao yea????

Would you rather live without TV or music? TV

Have you ever liked someone and never told them? yea

What are your favorite stores to shop in? theres this little like toy store but it has so many funny or adult things that I love. Its called Play

Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? not everyone

Do you smile at strangers? usually

Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? only in my dreams (like literally, I dont want ppl to know what I did in my dreams)

Ever wished you were someone else? always

Favourite makeup brand? dont have one

Last thing you ate? chicken and pasta

Ever won a competition? For what? yeah, a writing competition

Ever been in love? i dont know

Facebook or Twitter? facebook

Twitter or Tumblr? tumblr

Are you watching tv right now? no

What colour are your towels? purple

Favourite ice cream flavour? cookies and cream

First person you talked to today? my lil brother Ben

Last person you talked to today? talking to both my lil sibs rn

Name a person you hate? fucking CHRIS

Name a person you love? Rebecca <3 ( @parkour-margaret)

Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? chris always

Do you tan a lot? BURNN

Have any pets? FOUR

Do you type fast? relatively yeah

Do you regret anything from your past? OH yeah

Ever broken someone’s heart? idk

Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? YUP

Is cheating ever okay? it really depends on the situation but 98% of the time no

Do you believe in true love? yeah.  but not just one. everyone can have more than one

What your zodiac sign? aries

Do you believe in ghosts? this question was already asked? no

Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? “‘Never mind, do not weep,’ answered the frog, ‘I can help you, but”

[fifteenleads]

well, he has his moments.

@viktorweek day four: family/friends

Viktor Nikiforov can be both endearing and annoying all at once, but it’s exactly these qualities that have captivated people’s hearts in more ways than one.

(Five moments in Viktor’s life, as told by other people.)

AO3 | stories on (and off) ice

.

i.

Yuri should have known when Viktor shoved the tub of ice cream and kitty treats into his hands.

"Please please please watch Makkachin for me!" the old goof all but pleaded, his hands clasped together like those silly anime girls and his puppy-dog eyes welling up and threatening to spill over any moment. He sure is upfront with his requests, if anything, and Yuri wouldn't be surprised if this sudden favor he's asking has something to do with --

"Yuuri and I are going out on a date tonight! It's the most perfect Valentine's Day ever!"

-- Fucking called it.

It was so obvious at this point, he didn't know why he even bothered.

The large poodle bounding over and tackling him didn't help things, either, and his face is all sticky from the mutt's slobbering saliva, and it's so disgusting as fuck, and Katsudon is now peering in from the doorway, and --

"Fine, already!" Yuri snapped, throwing his hands up in irritation. "I'll keep it until you come back, okay? Just get the hell out of here!"

Katsudon and Viktor couldn't be out the door sooner enough. The teen chased them to the veranda and hollered at them not to be late.

The pair returned at three o'clock in the fucking morning, one very much intoxicated and the other very much covered in - ugh, hickeys.

Really, he didn't know why he even bothered.

  .

  ii.

Yakov should have known when Vitya asked for the rink to be closed off the day after tomorrow.

His student is quite the whimsical man, always doing as he pleases and never (for once!) listening to his sensible coach's sound advice -- not when he decided to add four quads into his program, not when he suddenly dropped his whole skating career to coach Yuuri Katsuki, not when he just-as-suddenly made his comeback, insisting on coaching and competing against said Japanese skater at the same time.

And especially not when he plans on proposing to Katsuki over a romantic, candle-lit dinner on the ice.

"Isn't it a great idea, Yakov?!" Vitya enthused, his eyes practically shining with excitement. "We'll dance together after dinner, and then I'll ask him to marry me!"

Frankly, Yakov thought his protégé could have come up with something better. Still, he has no intention of dashing the younger man's hopes with an honest remark.

"Surely, you prepared very well for this?" he asked instead. "It is quite an ambitious plan, if you ask me."

"Oh no, it's not as grand as yours was," Vitya teased (and Yakov winced because it's true), "but I already have everything down, no worries. All that's left is to pop the question."

He then grinned earnestly, a luminescent shade of powder pink coloring his cheeks. There are times the coach doesn't understand how Viktor Nikiforov can be both endearing and annoying all at once, but it's exactly these qualities that have captivated people's hearts in more ways than one, himself included.

That said, today was the proudest Yakov was yet of his silly (but nonetheless star) student.

And he hated to ruin the moment, but --

"I thought you are both already engaged?"

"Then I'll propose to him again! Yuuri deserves nothing but the best."

-- Katsuki should have married this man years ago.

  .

  iii.

Christophe should have known when Viktor came in wearing a different brand of lip gloss.

(Or rather, a certain someone's lip balm.)

He never thought he'd see the day Viktor would use a cosmetic product other than the expensive ones he owns (and if all those commercial endorsements are of any indication, they are a lot), but he supposed this is what love does to people, especially to those who are tying the knot in a few hours.

Viktor immediately made a beeline to his side and gave him a tight glomp. Chris returned the hug with one of his own, patting his friend's back encouragingly for good measure. "Love the new lips," he commented, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"Why, thank you, my friend," Viktor accepted the compliment, smacking his lips playfully. "Mmm, I like strawberry."

"His favorite flavor?"

"I don't think he has a preference," Viktor shrugged absently in thought. "It was actually green mint last time. I'd like to think he likes the Chanel one I usually use the most, though."

"More like he likes the taste of its owner on his lips, if you ask me," Chris suggested with a wink, and caught the small tube Viktor all but chucked at him in embarrassment. He's glad he hasn't lost his Friend Touch.

And because he's such a good friend, he's gonna make sure this hopeless man gets to the altar in one piece. (He doesn't even want to think about how Chulanont is handling poor Yuuri's nerves right now.)

"Your man has good taste," Chris remarked, playing with the long-worn lip balm. It's a cheap brand he sees most women use, probably bought from a downtown supermarket. "Can't wait to see the look on his face when he finds out."

Viktor smiled in part-nervousness and part-mischief. "I love to surprise him."

If one weren't listening intently, they might have heard an "I love him" instead. And for all intents and purposes, it might as well have been that.

"Good," Chris nodded approvingly, pocketing the pilfered cosmetic. "Go get dressed. I'll give this back to Chulanont for you." Viktor hummed in thanks and did as he was told.

Halfway out the door, Chris turned back to his friend, who was admiring the plain gold engagement band on his ring finger.

"It will be a lifetime full of surprises," the groom whispered, his voice choking with happiness.

Chris smiled in agreement. "Sounds promising."

And he knew, at that moment, that Viktor will be fine.

(The way Yuuri's eyes widened in recognition as Viktor dipped him into their wedding kiss was absolutely priceless.)

  .

  iv.

Phichit should have known when Viktor clung to him like an overgrown child during practice.

"Haha, what's this?" he asked jokingly as he pulled the older man along the curve. The new not-really brother-in-law is so fun to tease. "Trouble in paradise so soon?"

At once, Viktor's forlorn expression was replaced by one of incredulity. "What? No, of course not!" He still didn't let go of Phichit's arm, though, further tightening his grip instead.

And if the way those pale, manicured nails digged into rich, brown skin is of any indication, Phichit now had a second differential in mind.

He never imagined The Viktor Nikiforov, of all people, to join the legions of victims tormented by his ongoing web serial, but he supposed that that, too, was an accomplishment of its own right. At least his minor from college is paying off well -- and handsomely, too, at a hundred dollars per chapter.

"I warned you, it wouldn't end well," Phichit laughed. "I even spoiled half the story for you."

More like Viktor actually lived through half of it, since it was a fictionalized version of his life and all. But Phichit wouldn't tell him that - not yet.

(If anything, he's actually more than surprised that his subject hasn't figured it out for himself yet. Even Yuuri already has, and he's currently getting a lot of hell for it over Skype.)

"I can't believe he wanted to break up all along," Viktor whined at him mournfully while shaking his arm. "Their relationship had so much promise, and he was willing to throw it all away? It's unacceptable."

Phichit simply raised an eyebrow in amusement. Barcelona. Of course. He shot the poor Russian a devious shit-eating grin over his shoulder. "Triggered much?"

He wasn't even being subtle anymore at this point; Not-Brother-in-Law's denseness is losing its novelty pretty fast.

Phichit received an adorable scowl in return, and the pressure on his arm is gone as Viktor left his side to bother Yuuri instead. He laughed as his best friend stumbled over his code-switching again, mixing up English, Japanese and Russian phrases in confusion. The way Viktor's face lit up at once as he glomped his husband on the ice was simply too precious.

He snapped a photo as always, of course. Those two dorks really are the best for each other, and as their friend and one of their best men, he is willing to fight anyone tooth-and-nail for it.

And if posting endless photos of them weren't enough, he'd write whole novels and dissertations for them.

Speaking of which, he has a new side story for his serial now. Spasibo, bratan.

Phichit skated away from the kissing couple, immensely satisfied.

("Viktor says he loves your new update. How do you even come up with ideas for it?"

"Aw, shucks, Yuuri! Thank you so much! Stay in love always, okay? I'll be watching~."

"Phichit, STOP.")

  .

v.

Yuuri should have known when Viten'ka, for lack of a better word, lost it.

And by "it," he meant both the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle and his husband's sanity.

The almost-completed picture of Van Gogh's The Starry Night was left abandoned on the table, in favor of getting down on their hands and knees to look for the missing piece. The puzzle pieces were quite small, and losing only one shouldn't really be too distracting, as long as the right frame is used and the guests kept their distance.

Yuuri had considered talking Viktor into just hanging it up as is to spare them both the time and effort, but the puzzle-shaped blank space smack dab in the middle of swirling blue skies ticked even him off. That, or a year into marriage has made him as nitpicky as his husband about such trivial things, like twin peas in a pod.

Or maybe not, because he also appreciated said husband's well-endowed ass, as it constantly shifted in position while the man was looking under the couch. Admittedly, far-from-innocent thoughts have filled his mind while it was sticking up like that, but no, he would never go that far. He isn't a bit sorry for not helping out at all, however.

As Viktor moved to the CD stand next, Yuuri affirmed the last statement as the truest of them all.

That was one more thing that had changed over time, he supposed. And Viktor, too, knows this all too well, if the generous affection he lavished in bed at night was of any indication. Those times were the most fun.

Even now, Yuuri couldn't believe how much things have changed since they first met. Back then, Viktor had been someone akin to a god -- perfect, immaculate, unattainable. Over time, he came to learn how his god turned out to be as human as he was, with various faults and quirks and random eccentricities of his own. And though he's practically run the whole gamut of emotions for it, he considered himself very lucky that Viktor Nikiforov came into his life the way he did -- like a flashy, exploding supernova that surprised him and set everything on fire.

Viktor, for his part, would never tire of telling their story this way -- how everything in his life had been falling apart like the thin ice beneah his feet, then how it all suddenly fell into place when he met the love of his life, and he felt more than whole again. Phichit certainly cried buckets when Viktor called Yuuri Katsuki the best surprise of his life, and how truly, immensely lucky he was to be married to him. (They completed each other like perfectly-fit jigsaw puzzles, he'd said. Ha.)

They couldn't have found each other in a much better way, Yuuri mused as he spied a small piece of blue cardboard under the television set. As he reached his hand forward to retrieve it, however, another larger hand closed in first and pulled out of the dark space just as quickly. His husband let out a silly grin as he raised the puzzle piece between his fingers, and Yuuri was overcome with a wave of unexplainable feelings as he pinned the other man to the floor.

"What's this?" Viktor asked with amusement. "Are you that happy we finally found it?"

"Maybe," Yuuri answered teasingly, bending down to kiss the other man senseless. Maybe it wasn't only Viktor who lost his sanity this round, after all. (And how, indeed; all this over a single missing puzzle piece.) "I've had a lot of thoughts today, is all," he confessed breathlessly as he pulled away.

"Wow, do share," Viktor commented, his flushed form clearly betraying excitement and arousal. "I'm all ears, since we've already finished the puzzle and all."

"No, thanks," Yuuri declined with a smirk, taking the puzzle piece instead and lifting himself off the ground. He enjoyed the way his husband's face comically fell at the blunt rejection. Viktor whined as he got up and joined him at the table. "Yuu-chan!"

Yuuri looked back over his shoulder. "You have your moments, Viten'ka; let me have mine."

[its-like-this]

I can't get you back this time..

@incredablyunstable The last poem you wrote for me. Oh Adam..I will always love you.. I'll miss you, Sugar.. Fuck me like a dream A barbed chuckle tears at my throat through black velvet curtains of a dream
i saw you basking under a drowsy pastel sun 
a deflated tempest loitering 
guilty and humid with the memory of rain moving in sheets 
jagged fury exhausted against the scarlet hide of lazy rolling clay
the fantasm dissolves
my eyes open to muted scenery
the succulence suffocated 
your absence like a fog realization that i won’t see you today 
swells up my chest 
as if to burst 
gurgling in my hollow gut like a seizure
every limb 
aching to be tangled around your little frame i can’t recall anything else 
so familiar
and insatiable 
and instinctive 
and reticulated 
and feral 
and thirsty
petrifying every thought into one rigid demand 
resonating in the fiends’ solitude 
my memories tracing the edge of my sanity in fervent patterns
my tongue along your delicate petals of skin
i drool on you a little
licking your lips
curling one finger back and forth
gesturing come closer 
my favorite flower glistening with dew
your scent like calla lilies
we lock eyes while i tickle your sweet spot 
dirty curls like reigns in your pretty hands
i drape your legs over my shoulders 
and let them close around me like a vice
this is safest place ive ever been
your soft groaning might be the only sound ive ever heard
a few flashes of light tell me 
im not breathing
i start to disappear completely
no name
no thoughts
existing in these few moments only to feel you
a head and shoulders 
for you to ride the way someone rides an animal dumb enough to refuse taming
a blind pair of hands 
groping for new ways to squeeze you
a wordless grin 
buried in the soft taste of pears
your violent hips
pumping down into the mattress and bouncing back up 
once
twice
three times
drinking you for dear life
you drag my face up to yours and try for words 
settle for a smile and a sigh 
our mouths sticky i bring you a glass of water and ask do you want a smoke 
you’re tirettd of waiting
but we need to need it i shove you onto all fours in front of me and decide pick on you a little more 
a spank
a tickle
just the tip
drawing figures of eight and little hearts
easing you a few inches further 
just to the dingy ring of scar tissue brought to you by god’s perfect assholes
i realize that an approximated meter of pressure or pleasure is how i compensate for my stolen foreskin
but i don’t bring it up instead spell out sweet nothings where you’ll never read them 
and watch you squirm 
eager and inpatient
i pull back but leave little man’s head firmly inside and lift up your torso 
our arms tangled up 
between your back and my stomach
slick and taught with effort
sweat stinging two cuts you’ve left just above my waist
the trail of your index finger and thumb 
wrote in bloody italics your other nails too short to draw blood
gnawed down between elegant, worried lips my right hand
locked in a fist 
tangled in your hair 
pulling you closer 
pressing as deep as i can
we start to shake i notice how we fuck like a sunset or a song your thighs 
smooth against mine
below our hips
throbbing in desperate cadence
slap
slap
slap
slap
slap 
you squeak and squeal
your voice swells like ether
my left hand
leaves a hot silhouette welting up across your soft ass 
pale and sweet as cream
my clumsy fingers crawl up your back to find the soft skin of your throat
bruises in the shape of my teeth peering out between crooked knuckles little paired crescents wearing the color of the eastern horizon in the gentle dream of dusk
blood accents the edges like the lipstick stain that day sometimes leaves 
between the edge of the earth and bittersweet indigo 
thick as wine fixation grinding our fleshy rhythm to a halt 
pressed as tightly as i can into you
choking down that sullen giggle 
i taste the curve at the top of your ear
then the lobe 
then the corner of your jaw
then the salt on your neck
then whisper in your ear
begging for you to beg me 
you arch your back
stretching your please between gulps of wet air 
while we thrash 
in the cool breath of autumn 
sighing through an open window

[andseperand]

thoughts

ive been sitting on this post for the better part of a year. i tried to read through it and make edits, but im going to have to post this as is. maybe ill be able to edit it someday. anyway, this is completely composed of spoilers.

tl;dr: i mostly wrote bitterness about “kung food,” “origins part 1,″ and “reflekta.”

these are my thoughts on what ive watched of the first season of miraculous ladybug (i have watched most of every episode except the last three).

i may be confused or misinformed on some points. some of this is not as serious as other parts, and the writing style is disjointed because i didnt write it all in one go. any links are formatted within brackets (as in [text]).

ordered by the order i initially watched (parts of) the episodes in and indicated by villain name somehow (english, korean, french, french translation, etc.).

stormy weather/climatika

why did alya just toss manon like that? she couldve hurt something just being thrown around with her tiny little bones and joints that lack any significant cushioning. not to mention that her neck is completely unsupported. safety, much?

the bubbler/le bulleur

so the record is fully functional but also survived getting smacked off a building on its edge? wow.

copycat/l’imposteur/the imposter

i get that alya is supposed to be that “go-getter” friend who pushes marinette to be brave, but honestly, if she had waited another minute for marinette to be more ready for making a phone call, this wouldve been less of a mess. yeah, i get the “pushing boundaries to build confidence,” but honestly we could have waited for marinette to stop stalking adrien, too.

i gotta say: marinette is truly fearless. my phone is so suspicious. i would not have the confidence to deliberately touch it with my face and risk contact with who knows what has been on it.

the “moral” or whatever of this episode is kind of unclear? steal someones phone and run into issues with security but then also somehow break into it and get what you want anyway? no, thats not okay. its not that funny that marinette legitimately stole someones phone, and she doesnt even get seriously reprimanded for this.

timebreaker/chronogirl

one of the most pressing questions i have for this episode is why no one thought of using pockets or a bag or something to hold this important watch. hand perspiration is pretty bad for a lot of older and newer mechanical objects alike. why is this clearly-important item treated any different? ive considered both the “tikki is in the bag” (doesnt mean it has to be marinettes bag) and the “girl pockets” (marinette designed her own clothes, though) possibilities, and im still stumped.

mister/monsieur/mr./m. pigeon

how did chloe know what the colors were or even what the embroidery pattern looked like from a pencil sketch? it looked like chicken scratch.

lady wifi

im not sure that “dont violate other peoples privacy” was very well stated, seeing as alya was landed with an unfairly harsh punishment due to corrupt politicians. and how did that get resolved, anyway? was she still suspended? was there even supposed to be a moral in this mess?

the pharaoh/le pharaon

the villain is a pharaoh, continuing the ages-long trend of pretending ancient egyptian culture is just ~so interesting~ and that its portrayal isnt exploitative at all. i cant really say much about this, but i dont like those special ancient egypt episodes of anything.

rogercop

a mess

im pretty sure that this was to save animation budget or something, but why was marinette picking up those croissants off the floor and arranging them so nicely as if it really mattered what she did with them besides cleaning up the spill? i guess ill let it slide if shes trained that way as an advertising thing (though advertising doesnt get a free pass by default just because its strange).

the evillustrator/evil artist/le dessinateur

off topic, but could that tablet also erase or create living beings?

dark cupid/le dislocoeur/heartbreaker

this was still technically a kiss without consent? doesnt really feel all that romantic and whatnot. i cant really get behind this as shipping material.

horrificator

side note: i really liked how chloes english voice actor delivered the lines mockingly announcing mylenes “award” in the beginning.

im not a fan of the “you must kiss as part of acting” plot point. it always gives off those peer pressure vibes from other people and opportunistic vibes from main characters who want to actually kiss the other person.

darkblade/le chevalier noir/the black knight

sabrina is honestly super lucky that marinette made her box have a hole big enough for super tiny animated character wrists or else she wouldve been in a world of more pain.

alya had a platform? im so confused about how this election worked. did they do ballots or some sort of “heads down” in-class vote thing?

the/le mime

seeing as people dont lose their memories of being attacked by the villains, i really dont see how tearing down the eiffel tower (even in an animated show where people are not in the structure at the time) is the best way to minimize traumatic experiences. i get that it was supposed to be a “wow” moment for the plot and just visual effects but not the appeal.

kung food

the second i ever laid my eyes on this name i knew it would be bad, i just didnt know how bad because there were just so many ways it couldve gone with that phrase and i didnt know what to expect until i actually watched the episode. more on this in a bit.

there was literally no point to having the famous chef be related to marinette other than contrived circumstances to get adrien into this episode. im using this as a launching off point for talk of other stuff.

why didnt marinettes parents do anything about a relative coming to their house? this really baffles me because they have their daughter meet an effective stranger with no help.

why didnt marinettes parents tell her what languages the relative spoke? honestly, it kind of seems like they just didnt even care if this would cause her extreme anxiety or anything. you would really think they would have at least discussed this as a family because it was made pretty clear that his visit was actually expected. i thought way higher of their characters until it seemed that they pulled this crap move.

i know it was supposed to be all cute and a bonding moment when adrien came over to translate, but it was even more of a disaster. why did they take a car literally around the corner to get to the hotel? why didnt the chef go directly to the hotel if it was so close? was that adriens car? who was in charge of organizing this event and making sure the contestants didnt end up in the wrong place? how in the world did the chef even get to the bakery? because of the close proximity of the hotel to the bakery, it doesnt make sense that he would go to the bakery instead from an airport or something? unless he was supposed to meet his relatives? which, in this case, was not facilitated at all? so many questions are raised.

i dont speak nor understand mandarin, but im pretty sure adriens wasnt good enough for him to actually be complimented for it. then again, its nothing new to see white people getting complimented for deigning to learn a ~foreign language~ while i get interrogated about my lack of “authenticity” for not speaking “my native tongue,” so i guess the writers were just being realistic.

he bowed...funny story, at least one time i went to a restaurant with other visibly asian people and the apparently-white waiter kept making this weird head bobbing motion every time they left the table and what im saying here is that i know adrien has presumably been learning about culture stuff, but i also know firsthand that creators really love to shove bowing into media whenever asian people show up. (that waiter did give us extra mints, so i guess that was nice.)

sarcasm alert: i love when ~asian~ people have ~asian~ accents. its not like this is a tired gimmick that i dont need to see literally everywhere i turn (oh, wait! according to the english version, it is! hooray for me! this is probably the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me ever! im not being sarcastic at all! or overly sarcastic to the point where im sarcastically putting in that everything ive written in this paragraph is sarcastic because im just so mad! or maybe it definitely is! it probably is all sarcasm!) [bonus sarcasm here]

the chefs english/default dub language fluency was either inconsistent or this was just a straight-up rude portrayal of a nonnative speaker of a language, because adrien didnt seem to wait five seconds (for the chef to even consider the question about what he was cooking) before talking to the chef (and naturally, being a polite person, the chef listened to what adrien was saying), and i feel like it was only for the sake of adrien being ~useful~ because right after that, he talks to the chef in english/whatever language? dont think i didnt notice that his english speaking got “better” after becoming a villain. you know, if they hadnt faked the accent in the first place, they wouldnt have had to hastily cover for the fact that their voice actor couldnt even execute it well.

im sure adrien and marinette tag-teaming to argue with chloe and her racist comments was supposed to be this whole “wow look at that team” deal, but it felt like adrien was shoehorned into this mess sloppily. woohoo for the white boy defending marinette because she cant do it herself or something! i do appreciate when white people help stand up for me, but in this context, it feels off.

i have such a big problem with the “pep talk” adrien gives marinette when she thinks the chef doesnt like her. first thing, white boy explaining things about a person of color to a person of color, and the two people are actually literally related? i think the bouquet misunderstanding was really bizarre, and when did adrien have time to gain all this extensive exposition? the interview when they first arrived was short, and i dont think that both adrien and the chef would be so rude as to exclude marinette from their conversation in the car on the way over. this just comes off as a way to have adrien ~encouraging~ marinette, and its not a very good one.

this supposedly super prestigious competition literally has no security to make sure no one is mucking around behind the scenes, let alone ensure that the contestants arent up to any funny business. because why not. and no cameras around either, because cooking-based television programs never show any cooking, just the tasting and subsequent subjugation by a villain (this is a sarcastic sentence). even if this is supposed to be a featured dish and thus one they dont want to showcase the recipe behind, they could still have those little soundbites interspersed with candid panorama shots (can you tell i have no idea what any of these words mean?). im just going to have to chalk this one up to animation budget and move on.

i know this was just a sort of (intendedly funny) visual thing, but i highly doubt that the objects chloe put in the soup could just go unnoticed, especially since i presume a chef would thoroughly stir (and taste) their cooking, and the soup didnt appear to have properties of decomposing things touching it. otherwise that tasting session would probably have turned out a little messier (i am completely kidding here).

why is the chef being upset about being sabotaged made into a ~cultural~ thing? why is a white boy telling marinette about her ~own~ culture? sheesh, its like you cant just be upset because your shot at a world title was ruined on live television and you have confirmation that you were deliberately sabotaged. yes, chloe did it because shes petty and racist, but the results of her actions could upset anyone! its not just because the chef is chinese! what is the point of saying that? its a pointless throwaway comment! why dont you just find some other way to get the chef alone so he can be become a villain that isnt a) nonsensical and b) making sweeping generalizations about people? (granted, i cant speak to the validity of anything said about cultures, but i sure can comment on why saying such things about them isnt okay regardless).

“kung food” oh my god. this is such a piece of crap name. it is racist. you can literally try to argue against this until youve gone far beyond oxygen deprivation and in a grave but itll still be racist by the time youre done. aside from the pharaoh, there arent a bunch of ~ethnic~ names (not that it would be okay for that to be the case anyway) running around, and yet we get one with this specific villain whose ethnic and national origin is talked to death? okay.

and ive seen this pointed out, but the villain appearance seems to have a kind of anime-inspired design, which is honestly a good laugh because who was just talking about not conflating china and japan again? weeaboos and sinaboos are often in the same boat.

okay, not related, but adrien just had to taste a suspicious substance off the floor. why. there are so many ways to figure out what a substance is before putting it in your mouth. or you could just not do that at all. before this point, they did not appear to suspect a food-related villain, so this couldve ended badly.

another side note: i dont know how that receipt retained its integrity long enough for ladybug to wrap the villain up after dipping it in the soup. do the magical items just have super special properties like extra toughness that allows them to defy the reality of paper receipts? i wonder how many of the things ive talked about in this post have been me marveling at the sturdiness of lucky charm items.

of course this turns into an ~accountability~ lesson for marinette. and chloe doesnt get reprimanded? yeah, she got booted off a panel she didnt even want to be on and no one actually clearly articulated to her that the things she said were absolutely unacceptable? then again, this is a “diversity episode,” so i dont know why my standards are so high.

wow, marinette really needed to have adrien encourage her before going to take a picture with her great-uncle? im going to be generous and allow that she wanted to make sure he would be okay with her ditching him for her much cooler great-uncle because she didnt want him to feel bad about how not-cool he is in comparison. there, you see what i mean about making up story elements? (though im really not much of a writer, oops.)

im so over people making fun of how others dress as a joke. before i realized that i am autistic and reflected back on my life, i didnt realize that i gravitate toward clothing i find comfortable rather than fashionable, and ive always gotten negative comments, ill-intended or otherwise. so i really didnt appreciate marinettes jab at chloe, even if it was to defend herself. it was just unnecessary.

i want to talk about the whole ~chinese representation~ thing in this show. yeah, i know marinette is one of the very few chinese and mixed main characters out there (and there are barely any that are both), but im going to be super honest about this: i dont think shes all that great. i am a big fan of her and this show, but that doesnt make it infallible. the fact that adrien of all people is telling her about her own culture is a huge failing in itself. i dont know everything about my own cultures, but its not cool to have a literal outsider being shown to be the expert on someones culture and be the one to guide them through that. theres barely any portrayal of sino stuff in the show as is, and i hate the way this is only shown as a kind of special episode topic. i would be way more fine with this if this wasnt basically the sole instance of discussion of marinettes heritage. and no, the fact that her mother wears stereotypical clothing doesnt count. at all.

okay, this has been a huge issue for me before and after this point, but it was in this episode that it was made abundantly clear just what we are dealing with. i know that it is completely possible, genetically speaking, for a mixed chinese and white person to have blue eyes. its also completely possible for a chinese person to have gray eyes even without being mixed (i say this because i dont know if her mother is monoracial). however, if you only have two confirmed recurring characters of chinese descent, and their eye colors are ~special~ colors...well, thats kind of iffy there. why is it that the minor chinese character has stereotypical eyes? theyre basically just expanded pupils for all intents and purposes, which is not the problem, because its possible to have irises that are so dark as to make figuring out whether they have a distinguishable brown tint to them really hard. anyway, i suppose i dont want to talk about things ahead in the season, but why is it that the background asian characters get the stereotypical eyes but the main characters who are asian get the special eye colors? (that was a rhetorical question. i know exactly why.)

im pretty that at some point in the creation of this villain name, someone patted themself on the back for being so ~clever~ like “haha kung food geddit? its like kung fu but with food because im actually not that creative and more racist than i would like to openly admit.” okay, i know im being a bit harsh. but its really annoying when one of the few things people “know” about sino people is that kung fu exists. and honestly, i kind of suspected this, but ive seen other people say that the villain more resembles a villain from anime, so...thats kind of disrespectful there...

the/le gamer

i really disliked marinettes combo move names. they all had ~asian~ words like lotus, jade, oriental, etc.

animan

i find the sniffing scene to be kind of creepy. personal space much?

the city has really high quality buses. i cant believe the bus didnt end up backfiring on their plan because if i know anything about buses its that the ones ive seen are probably way older and more decrepit than me.

antibug

how do the earrings work in this setting? as far as i can tell, it would make sense for chloe to have pierced ears and a pair of ladybug imitation earrings that she could put it, but how is it possible that ladybug was able to just pull the earrings off? because that could be a really, really messy situation if they are actually piercings with backings and everything, but is there an explanation for this? magnets, clips, anything?

the puppeteer/le marionnettiste

can that glowing bright red effect that comes from her yo-yo and the power cord being swung around just for the viewers, or can it actually be seen in-universe? or is that a null point because both items are generated by ladybugs magic?

reflekta

this show really didnt need any “haha look a ~guy~ in a dress” jokes. and honestly, this was ill handled (though arguably, its very existence was ill handled). first of all, im not the best judge of this kind of thing, but to me, ladybug felt out of character while mocking chat noir? honestly, marinette doesnt strike me as the type of person to find that kind of situation funny in the first place, so the premise doesnt really hold up in my opinion. i know marinette can make mistakes, but youd really think she would be more open to not thinking this way because she knows what its like to be bullied for other things. moving on... [though, to reiterate]

the way this was not addressed? at all? yeah, ladybug apologized for that one comment at the beginning of their conversation, but then she continued to make jokes at chat noirs expense, and it just wasnt as funny as it was probably intended to be?

i know the whole thing about ambiguous chronology, but there is no reason ladybug wouldnt take chat noirs opinion into account when planning for things anyway. it felt like that part was written specifically so he could “prove” his worth to the rest of the episode and ensure that, yes, he is still allowed to be in it after being turned into a reflekta lookalike, and the whole thing smacks of trying to write out of a corner...that was written into in the first place. if it hadnt gone the route it did with the mocking of appearances, i dont think it would have had to be as convoluted as it ended up being.

i personally dont care for high heels, but i dont get the kind of “fashion cracks” that were being made about them. like yes, high heels can be hard to move in? yeah, it isnt fun being turned into the appearance of someone who isnt you against your will? i just dont understand this gag.

guitar villain

did ladybug really honestly just full-on spray someone in the face with the contents of an aerosol can? im aware that the point was that the hair was in front of his face, but what if some had gotten into guitar villains eyes? dang, what if someone tries to emulate this in real life? ouch.

digital/numeric

kind of done with the spotlight on stalking behavior this show has.

marinette still shows no fear of suspicious screens. she continues to use parts of her face to touch one multiple times, never mind that she literally flings her yoyo all over the place.

stoneheart/coeur de pierre i

did marinette have pierced ears in the first place? shes not shown taking any earrings out, and we dont get that clear a view of her earlobes anyway. that might be deliberate for modeling budget and all.

master fu has brown eyes. so thats like four ~chinese~ characters that are in this show, and the main character and her mother have the special eye colors, and the minor character who is somewhat important to the plotline has non-black eyes, and the minor one-episode character has the black eyes. what a shining example of diversity (no).

anyway this is a good point to say that some things are just not for you. there are things that you just cant be a part of no matter how much you want to be because it just doesnt work that way. and the mess that is the miraculous “mythology” is definitely an example of this. i myself have very little knowledge of anything sino, but i sure as heck can spot that this...”history” thing is so off.

at this point i should probably mention i really dislike master fu as a character in general. just as a single point, apparently hes based off the teacher character in karate kid? i saw somewhere that the creator said he basically made marinette mixed because he was dating an asian person when he was thinking about the show and that marinette is basically his idea of their mixed kid? and back to the eye color thing (again), ive even seen someone with green eyes and blue hair suggest to him that they could be the child of marinette and adrien, and he said theyre like his grandchild? (im not really inclined to try to dig up an iron-clad, indisputably genuine source for this right now, but if youre honestly searching for completely serious, well-researched information in a really good quality post, this is not the post you are looking for.) i have no idea where i was even going with this paragraph.

stoneheart/coeur de pierre ii

why is marinette so invested in her crush on adrien? this couldve been a sweet crush, but no, she has to make it so creepy? leading up to this episode, i really didnt know what to expect because i really thought there would be some sort of explanation for just how extreme the lengths marinette goes to are, but from what i can tell, shes just being super invasive? the ambiguous timeline doesnt really help with this, nor does the fact that the origins episodes were aired at the end of the season. whatever characterization was supposed to be inferred from this feels choppy and unnecessary.

simon says/jackady/jacques a dit

i dont really blame her, but ladybug totally could have reduced the level of adrien distractedness going on here. shes previously shown signs of compartmentalizing ladybug and even having to face the fact that it isnt worth using up her power over adrien, but gosh golly, what gives?

princess/princesse fragrance

ive seen criticisms of how ladybug was written to be overly competent in this episode, which i think is fair since it keeps happening, and its so late in the season by this point that its gotten tired.

volpina

i try not to be too judgmental, but frankly, adrien is not that great of a prize.

anyway, from what i can tell about this episode, i think that there was too much on marinettes flaws, which i really think is a bit much to have in the last chronological episode of a season. its already been established that she makes mistakes with her decisions, but i just thought her unequal prioritization of adrien was too much. it just seemed contrived to squeeze in scenes that the creators wanted to animate regardless of overall context in the show, which is really unfortunate because of how the show becomes a little less chronologically ambiguous at this point.

[thecreativeseries]

Interview With Wildlife Photographer Kristin Campbell

Californian Wildlife Photographer @kristincampbell

Firstly, can you start with a little bit about yourself and when you started your photography career?

My name is Kristin, I am 33 years old and currently living in Orange County, California with my husband. While he is busy building rockets for the next generation of space flight, I spend my days buzzing around the Pacific Ocean looking for whales. I currently work as a guide and wildlife photographer for an ecotourism company called Newport Coastal Adventure.

For me, photography began as a research tool and has quickly grown into a passion. With my degree in marine science, I have been fortunate to work on several scientific projects including joining NOAA’s Marine Mammal Laboratory in the Aleutian Islands of Alaska to conduct fieldwork. In the field, I use cameras to document orca behaviour in and around Steller sea lion rookeries to better understand predation pressures. The objective was simple: point, shoot, and catalogue. Only after I became a guide two years ago did I start to use photography as more than just a research tool. By photographing marine wildlife while guiding out on the water each day, I was able to quickly learn professional camera systems and start getting creative with my images.

What equipment do you use to create your images and why did you select it?

I use a Canon 5D Mark IV and Canon 100-400mm lens. I also use a DJI Phantom 4 Pro v2.0 drone. Almost all of my photography involves freezing motion. Canon’s professional cameras and lenses have a long history of being ideal for wildlife photographers. I have put my Canon system to the test and am continually happy with its performance. Drones are a powerful tool in viewing whales from a new perspective. There have been many times where I have been observing a whale at the surface only to see its methodical breathing. After launching my drone I was shocked to see it swirling with dolphins, a behaviour I could not have seen without an aerial view. This aerial perspective also allows me to view the entire whale, rather than just segments of it as it surfaces.

How do you prepare before going for a shoot?

I am very lucky to be able to work on the ocean daily and all of my shooting occurs during our whale watching tours. My primary duties are to educate our passengers about the wildlife they are seeing, so I keep my camera close by and shoot when I can. I spend 8 to 10 hours a day exposed to the ocean’s many moods and shoot in all weather conditions. My gear is contained in one pelican case that has withstood 20-knot winds, surging ocean swell, and waves of saltwater.

The best way for me to prepare each day is to stay aware of my surroundings and an animal’s behaviour. Whales and dolphins only surface for a brief moment and they can do interesting behaviours in a split second. Being able to read an animal’s behaviour and react fast when they are about to do something interesting is imperative to capture those fleeting moments. You never know what is going to happen out in the big blue so you best pay attention!

You have a huge passion for whales, what is it about these majestic creatures that light you up?

During college, I worked in a Natural History Museum. While there I spent a lot of time cataloguing and looking at the bones of wild animals in the mammalogy collection. I conducted research on the cranial morphology (skull shape) of sea otters and how it affects their dietary ecology. I have always been fascinated by the skeletal adaptations marine mammals have to their extreme environment. For example, their elongated hand bones are formed into flippers and their fusiform body shape allows them to swiftly move through the water. Their form and shape is a unique design for aquatic life.

I distinctly remember walking through the museum’s whale warehouse filled with the skulls, ribs, and bones of these massive leviathans. So much of these animals lives are a complete mystery to us. They live in another world where eyesight, a sense humans completely depend on, is obsolete. Whales and dolphins rely more on sound to find food, communicate, and even navigate. I love the mystery of their lives and spend my days observing them. Each time I see them I hope to unlock a few more of their secrets.

How would you describe your current photographic style?

I would describe my style as artistic wildlife photography. My interest in form and anatomy has definitely influenced my artistic view of animals. I prefer minimal backgrounds to focus on the shape and physical features of my subject. I try to maintain continuity in my editing style so multiple species can be compared to one another and their uniqueness brought to light. An example of this is the top-down headshot of Blue, Fin, Sei, and Bryde’s whales often seen in my imagery. These whales are easily confused for one another out on the ocean, but an aerial perspective reveals the characteristics that make them unique.

My dark tones may contradict the sunny Southern California sunshine, however, they reflect the world in which whales live and the mystery that surrounds their lives. Light struggles to penetrate the depths of the ocean and thus whales live a majority of their lives in a darker world.

Which photographers have inspired your journey and why?

I view photography as a lifelong pursuit and one I hope to never master. No matter what level of photographer you are, there is always more to learn. My photography career is in its infancy and I have relied heavily on my peers to learn and grow. So many fellow marine wildlife photographers I work with daily have helped me learn the technical aspects of my camera and editing software. Even though we all photograph the same subjects, we each have our own unique point of view.

I have a deep appreciation for many wildlife photographers and enjoy a lot of wildlife imagery, however, there is something special about underwater photography and the photographer’s ability to connect with their subject. Photographers who choose sharks as their subjects, in particular, have an incredible knowledge of shark behaviour and appreciation for them as apex predators. James Ferrara’s images show that interaction between free diver and shark (@jferraragallery). Darren Jew (@darrenjew) and Jasmine Carey (@pxlexplorer) both capture incredibly stunning underwater images of whales that I find myself endlessly scrolling through. I imagine myself looking into the image as if beside them, sharing that moment with a swirling humpback whale or powerful orca. I love the minimalism in their underwater imagery and try to emulate that in my own images as well. I have incredible respect for the education, preparation, and time invested in their craft. A single image likely took hours of preparation and a team of support. It is easy for people to overlook that aspect of their photography when quickly consuming it on social media. I have a great appreciation for the process of photography. The image you are left with is simply a memento from an incredible encounter.

What has been your proudest body of work to date?

My photography career is quite young, however it is pleasing to know my images can contribute to our understanding of whales through the scientific community. This may include identifying an entangled whale in need of rescue or documenting a unique species or behavior rarely seen. Photography has been and will continue to be an incredibly powerful, non-invasive tool to help us understand whales and dolphins. I also hope my images inspire people to seek the ocean and to see these beautiful animals for themselves.

As a wildlife photographer what has been your greatest challenge and how have you overcome these?

Wildlife photography is built upon a foundation of patience. Wild animals are unpredictable and quite frankly sometimes just not around. I have invested hours on the water to be in the right place at the right time to capture some of my images. It is a fallacy to think at any given time whales are just breaching out of the water all over the ocean. 95% of the surface behaviours whales do is simply breathing. I challenge myself daily to transform a simple moment into a memorable image. That being said, all of this time invested is wasted if you aren’t prepared. That uncharged battery or forgotten memory card is a day wrecker out on the ocean. And I have learned that lesson the hard way.

Finally, do you have any advice for someone interested in a career in wildlife photography and working on boats?

In a way, I kind of fell into photography. I have always been open to trying new things and learning new skills. My best advice would be to focus on learning skills rather than being dead set on your dream job (especially if you want to work on boats). Be a student of life. Ask questions, volunteer your time to learn new skills if needed, and apply yourself during your free time. Stay humble and develop strong relationships with your peers.

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[zolganif]

I feel like I’m meant for something much more. It’s so annoying when the hiccups just won’t go away! I’ve hosted a party before. I’m watching TV right now. Yesterday was Tuesday. I don’t like it when people use the word ‘douchebag’ as an insult. I agree with what Stephen King said about Stephenie Meyer. I can get pretty jealous sometimes. It’d be cool to interview celebrities for a living. I don’t have a mailbox in front of the house. The worst kind of comedians are the ones that try too hard to be funny. Even worse are comedians who constantly make the same jokes about the same celebrities. If I ever was to try drugs, it would be out of curiosity, not because of peer pressure. That song “I Love College” by Asher Roth annoys me. You know what I like about rich kids? Nothing. Romantic comedies are too predictable. I have cut myself while shaving. ^And it hurts like a bitch when soap gets in it! I’ve eaten potato chips today. If I was a guy, I’d probably be a gay guy. How could Batman really have enough time to put his whole suit on AND that black make-up around his eyes? I get excited to watch my favourite TV show every week. My dog is in the room with me.

I have… Been to more than three funerals in my life. Written a song for somebody. Found nothing to watch on five hundred different TV channels. Gotten in a fight with somebody on an online forum. Cooked a very healthy dinner. Collected pretty rocks that washed up on shore. Fed the animals at the zoo, regardless of the warning signs. Read an entire book in a day. Criticized someone’s performance. Rode in the back of a pick-up truck. Listened to a whole CD nonstop, without skipping any tracks. Mixed up “your” and “you’re”.  Made smores over a fire. Had a huge crush on a member of a rock band. Gotten video game cheats from the internet. Stood up for someone. Done graffiti to get a message across. Been made fun of for something stupid. Watched more than seven movies in one day. Lied so much that it ended in a lot of trouble.