#much quicker when it deviates from it

[hansensgirl]

☠️ — 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

summary. | Steve Rogers and his wife have a precarious arrangement in which she can have as many affairs as she likes, as long as she doesn’t ask for a divorce. But a man like him only has so much patience. And there you are, his child’s babysitter, too sweet to resist.

pairings. | Dark!Steve Rogers x baby-sitter!fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (brief), Peggy Carter x numerous OMCs (implied/mentioned).

warnings. | NON/DUB-CON (leaning more towards dubious consent), smut, age gap, Halloween celebrations, deceit, manipulation, Steve is mean to his wife, obsession, possessiveness, implied murder (not the reader), mentions of masturbation (m), fingering (f), kissing, nipple play, Sir kink, mild Daddy kink, creampie, dirty talk, power dynamics/imbalance, praise, mild degradation, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, honey, baby, love), missionary, rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism, mentions of riding, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~4.8k

author’s note. | hello! happy belated halloween! i know i’m a bit late—i’m sorry. here’s the dark!steve fic i was talking about. it’s a Deep Water!AU. please enjoy and heed the warnings! thank you @cuttlefjsh for beta-ing and putting up with me! let me know what you think. thank you for reading! taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

The leaves fall apart underneath the pace of his feet. The hill slopes downwards, and the branches snap and hit the ground. Steve keeps pushing—keeps running even though he’s long devolved from a jog. The burn in his lungs is beautiful. He’s breathless.

For once, he doesn’t have to think about little Sarah and her mother. He doesn’t have to worry like a housewife, even though he was once the man of the house.

Millions in revenue. Two vacation homes. Endless income. But it’s never enough for her.

When Steve reaches the creek, he stops. The Apple watch on his wrist clocks in an unhealthy amount of steps. Unhealthy for everyone else, at least. He’s always been above average, and now he’s just like the rest.

Another greying head in the sea of a crowd. Another typical client his shrink has with the same old problems—a cheating wife, a midlife crisis.

His phone buzzes, and Steve half-expects a reminder he doesn’t need. But it’s better—so much better than he could ever predict.

It’s you—your name with a heart. His spouse doesn’t even have that—she’s just got her entire government name with “wife” in parentheses.

Hi, Mr. Rogers. Hope you enjoyed your weekend! I wanted to confirm that I’m coming tonight. I texted Mrs. Rogers yesterday, but I haven’t received a reply yet. Sorry to be pushy. I just need to know in time. Thanks, and Happy Halloween! 🎃

He sighs. He’s never understood why you always go to Peggy first, even though you’ve seen her incompetency more than you do your own family. He’ll have a talk with you tonight—while Peggy is out on a date with her latest suitor.

Hey, honey. I hope your weekend is as wonderful as you are. Yes, we’re still on for tonight. Don’t worry about my wife. From now on, just come to me, okay? Be here by 7:00, please. Thanks. Happy Halloween! 👻

Steve replies a few minutes later, but you read his message immediately. The timestamp makes him smile. Soon, the ‘typing’ icon pops up and following it is your message.

Great, thank you so much! See you then :)

You even leave a ‘heart’ on his text message; he does the same to yours. A sigh escapes the older man’s chest. His heart has returned to its regular rate, and the sweat on his back has cooled.

The scene before him is gorgeous—but doesn’t even hold a candle to your beauty. The thought of you is more addictive than any illicit substance. It calms him down when he needs to and riles him up at the worst times.

Steve says it’s not fair. Peggy shouldn't have all the fun with her boyfriends—even when her husband gets rid of them quicker than need be. It’s exhausting to deviate from law enforcement for a woman who doesn’t care about her own family.

She gets to devise grand schemes and say mean words to him. She doesn’t bother with her own daughter. She doesn’t lift a finger or pay for a thing with money she earned. Steve has to live in the shadows—and he’s tired of it.

The almost 50-year-old man follows his usual trail back home. Sirens pass behind him, heading toward some emergency that he undoubtedly has nothing to do with. Not this time, at least.

He feels like a dog in the manger. Everyone can have Peggy (to a certain extent), but he can’t have anyone himself.

Fake cobwebs and pumpkins sit outside houses on each side of the road. It’s the spookiest night of the year, yet you have no plans. No parties to attend with some stupid little boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you the way he would.

When Steve unlocks the front door, he finds his wife’s heels strewn on the floor and his daughter watching cartoons in the living room. He kisses Sarah’s head and ensures she’s eaten the entirety of her breakfast. He tried his best with ghost-shaped pancakes, though they turned out more like blobs than anything. She doesn’t mind at all.

Sarah’s a brainiac, her new hobby being those kits that teach you how to hook wires into potatoes and other vegetables. Steve applauds her creations every time she shows them off, noting the little technological genius in her that he must’ve contributed to.

That is, if he’s her biological father.

The television screen plays her choice of cartoons, with a Halloween theme for the special day. He smiles when she laughs before heading upstairs.

Peggy has the largest room with the nicest furniture. She spends little time there unless she’s getting ready to go out or recovering from a hangover.

Steve knocks on her door. Despite there being no answer, he unlocks it and lets himself in. His wife is wide awake, eye makeup smudged a bit, but she’s wearing her signature jeans with a tank top.

She turns around and smiles at the sight of him. “What do you think?” she asks, gesturing to the costume she has laid out.

It’s a vampire—that’s as much as he gathers. The little voice in his head tells him how fitting it is—Peggy has sucked the life out of him for the last seven years.

“Perfect,” Steve tells her, giving her his most forced smile, and they both know she sees right through it.

“Good. And what are you going as?” she questions, turning her back to him. He genuinely contemplates this for a second.

For the last few years, he’s always worn a cheap cape and said he’s a superhero. But he’s tired of the same thing all the time.

“I’m not sure. I’ll come up with something, though. What time are you leaving?” Steve asks. “Oh, probably around six. Don’t wait up for me. You’ll take Sarah trick-or-treating, right?” Peggy smiles, unwilling to take ‘no” for an answer.

Steve says nothing and simply leaves. He takes his phone out of his pocket—sleek screen and a photo of you and Sarah as one of his wallpapers—and pulls up his conversation with you.

Hey, hon. Do you mind coming a bit earlier? 6:30 will do.

He doesn’t even have to wait for your reply.

Sure! Do you want me to stay the night, too? I don’t mind.

Always diligent. Always a sweetheart.

Please do. The door will be unlocked.

You give his message a thumbs-up, and he sighs.

Tonight will be the night. Tonight, he’ll finally get what he wants, and no one can stop him. Not even you.

You give the door a knock three times, even though you’re more than welcome to simply enter. It feels wrong, though. Too familiar, too casual.

Halloween is one of your favourite holidays. It’s a day full of excitement and creativity, and the month leading up to it is terrific. The turning leaves and the cold weather that lets you wear your coziest sweaters. The candy is the cherry on top of the entire delicacy.

You’ve never been on for extravagant costumes due to your procrastination. Tonight, you’re an angel. You don an all-white get-up; a lace dress, sheer tights, and matching shoes. You have a borrowed halo on your head and floppy wings on your back. It’s the best you can do for now.

Steve opens the door a few moments later, and he’s wearing a black suit. His hair is gelled, and he has a toothy grin—a change from his usual scowl. You smile at the sight of him.

“Happy Halloween!” you cheer, and he laughs. “Happy Halloween, sweetheart. What are you supposed to be? The devil?” he jokes. “Hardy-har-har. I’m an angel. But what are you? A CEO?” you ask, raking your eyes up and down his body.

The older man basks in your attention, his ears burning red.

“Actually, I’m a groom. Something different from the superhero thing, you know? It was the only thing I could come up with,” he sheepishly admits, and you wave his shyness away. “I love that! I never see anyone do something simple yet unique. But no decorations?”

You glance back at his front lawn and see nothing but withered flowers and yellow leaves from the neighbour’s over-arching tree. His porch simply has a bowl of candy with a threatening “TAKE ONE (1)” sign, assumingly written by Sarah.

“Nope. But there’s always next year!” he reassures. You giggle and nod your head. Your cheeks burn from smiling so much. Do you find him amusing? Or is it forced? Steve has numerous questions running through his mind, some exciting the butterflies in the attic that is his stomach, and some boiling his blood.

“C’mon in. No jacket? You must be freezing. You’re better than that, honey,” he chides like the father he is. He locks the door behind you—chain and all. “I didn’t think it’d be this cold,” you admit, removing your shoes. Steve takes them from you and places them on the rack where Peggy’s usual ankle boots would be.

You note the absence of her items and the lack of noise from the television. You don’t pay them much mind.

“Ah, rookie mistake. If you want, you can borrow a jacket from me,” he offers, picking up a stray black feather from the floor. You set your small backpack on the bottom step and follow his lead.

“So… What’s Sarah’s costume? She kept talking about being a minion, and then a cow, so I’m not too sure,” you laugh, and Steve does the same. “Peggy wanted her to be one of those Mario characters, but you know Sarah. Tonight, she’s Albert Einstein. Including the wig, of course.”

When you enter the clean living room, you expect to see her adorable face dressed as the notorious physicist. But she’s not there—and neither are the family photos.

“Um, sir, where is she?” you question, and he gestures to one of the sofas. You take a seat and wait for his return. He comes back with two drinks and hands you one of them. “Sarah is at her grandma’s. Peggy is at one of those parties she always goes to,” Steve coolly explains.

“Oh, are we going there? Or do you want me to stay back and give candy out?” You take a sip of your drink—a cherry limeade you once raved about to him. The sparkling water fizzles on your tongue. “No, she’ll be going trick-or-treating with her cousins.”

There’s a beat. A moment. And it lasts for a while.

“Uh, so what am I doing here?” you query. “Sweetheart. I’m a bit disappointed. You probably think that’s all I want you here for, don’t you? C’mon, you’re more than a babysitter to me.”

Steve places emphasis on his last word. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers, but I really don’t understand what you’re implying,” you profess, downing more of your drink out of sheer nervousness. Are you being fired? Are they moving? Did you do something wrong?

“Oh, honey, c’mere,” he says, even though he comes to you. He moves from his position across from you—standing tall in his full, towering height. Steve sits down next to you and places his large, warm hand on your cold left thigh. “Don’t be scared. M’not gonna hurt you. You’re not in trouble,” he says in a low tone.

When he’s this close to you, you can see the details of his face entirely. Whenever you’ve tried to admire him from afar, it’s like he knows when you’re looking.

“You’re so sweet… So pretty. I bet you’re nice and soft, too, hm? And you’ll be a good girl for me?” he asks, and you furrow your brows. You open your mouth to say something to him, but you’re quickly shut up with a searing kiss.

Steve presses his lips against yours, and it’s better than anything he could have ever imagined. The fantasies he’s had during those late nights or showers with his fist wrapped around his cock don’t even compare.

He takes charge, pushing his tongue inside your mouth and exploring within. His strong hands scoop you into his lap, one of them holding the back of your head. You lean back as Steve’s forwardness dominates you. You’re not sure what to do, so you place your palms on his shoulders and use a bit of force to try to push him away.

The married man doesn’t budge. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel like he’s sucked the air out of your lungs. You sink your teeth down lightly on what you think is his tongue, and he hisses as he pulls away.

“Sir– We can’t do this. It isn’t right. I– I mean, you’re my boss, and you have a wife—and poor Sarah, she doesn’t deserve this–”

“Fuck Peggy. Do you really think she cares? I don’t love her, never have. I only love you, darling. Now, what you just di–”

“Love me? Mr. Rogers, I think you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s just because we’re alone, or you and Peggy have been distant, but you don’t love me, Sir. I won’t mention this to anyone, I swear. And I’ll find another job if you’d like,” you breathlessly explain, shaking your head.

Steve shushes you with a snarl. “You’re not leaving me.” His voice is stern, and his tone says it all—there’s no arguing. “Please,” you try to get off the older man’s lap, but he holds onto you tightly. “We’re perfect for each other, honey. Don’t you see? Sarah loves you, and you love her. And look! I’m your groom, and you’re my angelic wife,” he exclaims, pulling the halo and ripping the wings off.

You gasp at his strength and audacity. You’d try to fight him, but you know you’d end up more hurt than anything. “Please don’t make this difficult,” he demands, adding your name. The mention makes you flinch, as he rarely says it.

“Look at those eyes… All blown out. I bet you’re soaking, aren't you?” Steve asks, but you don’t reply. His blue irises seem much darker in the dim lighting. His pupils are wide, and it’s like looking at a man who’s been possessed. “You’re probably making a mess of your panties, and we’ve barely even started. Does that always happen when you’re around me? Gosh, I bet you smell so sweet.”

His words make you whimper, and he smiles. “Oh, and look at those perfect tits,” he hums, groping them. Your nipples are stiff as peaks, and the rough touch from Steve has you shuddering. “Pl– Please,” you beg as he pulls at the nubs. The pain teeters on pleasure, and you squeeze your thighs to put an end to the thrumming at your core.

“‘Please,’ what, sweetie? Hm?”

“Please, Sir,” you whisper.

The title makes him groan. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting you,” Steve expresses. You don’t want to know. “Ever since we met… D’you remember that floral dress you wore? That you kept pulling up? God, I wanted to take you right there…”

You remember that day all too well. Seeing Mr. Rogers in all his glory was riveting, and the slight crush you developed lives on. Now—you’re not sure. Your brain is a mess, and you can’t think straight.

Your boss lifts you up bridal style, and he doesn’t let this go unnoticed. “See? We were meant for each other, honey. And we don’t even need a wedding.”

He sets you down on the bed in the room on the main floor. You’ve stayed here from time to time when Peggy likes to come out at two in the morning, and Steve is beyond worried for her.

Was it all a farce? You remember those times and how he never called her or insisted on picking her up.

Steve’s hands pull at your cheap dress, and he rips it down the middle. You regret your choice of not wearing a bra, but either way, it would’ve done nothing.

He cups your breasts, and you moan at the touch. He latches his mouth onto one nipple as he plays with the other. His mouth is skilled—his tongue flicking and teeth slightly grazing the sensitive skin.

Mr. Rogers’ fingers are just as talented. They pinch, pull, and twist at your other peak simultaneously. He switches eventually, and you’re a puddle beneath the imposing man.

Your back is arched slightly, and you’re practically pushing your chest into his face, and he chuckles. “So desperate. You need me so badly, don’t you?” he says, nodding his head and smiling when you mimic him for a split second. “Atta girl—so good for me.”

Steve pulls back, and you whine. He soothes you and pulls his jacket off. You can see the ripples of muscle beneath the white collared shirt. He unbuckles his belt with swiftness. You gnaw on your bottom lip despite its swollenness.

Soon, he’s back on you. Your boss hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them down your legs, admiring the strings of slick that break from the distance. He pushes the cloth into his pocket, and you clench when you think of the things he’ll do with it later on.

In your mind is a tiny voice that chides your every wrongdoing—how you haven’t fought back as much as you should. But there’s a louder one that was once lovesick over the married man before you, and it’s far more convincing.

Steve spreads your legs and curses at the sight of your sopping cunt. You involuntarily clench from the exposure. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over you. One arm keeps him up, and the other bends your knees, giving him better access.

His fingers slide against your folds, collecting wetness as he caresses your lips. You let out a pleasured sigh, secretly wishing he would stop tormenting you and just get it over with. “So sensitive, too. I bet you’ll make such a mess on my cock.”

You never knew Steve could have such a filthy mouth—and God, do his words have your head spinning.

He quickly finds your swollen, throbbing clit and lightly touches it. The sensations on your little pearl are mild, but they’re enough to have you writhing beneath Steve. He draws light circles with the tips of his fingers. Your mouths brush against each other, and he teases you until you’re whispering pleas against his lips.

“Shh… It’s okay, love,” he reassures. Once he knows he has you worked up enough, Steve pushes the first digit into your pussy. The intrusion has you gasping, which turns into a whimper when he shoves another in. “Lookatcha, honey. You’re takin’ my fingers like a champ. This cunt is so tight, though. I’m really gonna have to stretch ya to fit my cock in there.”

The idea of his large cock barely fitting inside you makes your muscles involuntarily constrict against Steve’s fingers.

It takes a moment for you to adjust to the intrusion, though your walls welcome him like a familiar friend. His fingers are longer and thicker than yours, and with ease, he reaches that sweet spot most boys your age miss.

Eventually, Steve begins to fuck you on his hand. His digits slide in and out of you with ease as he picks up the pace. The skin glistens from your slick, and it’s a sight to behold. He creates a scissor motion with his two fingers every now and then, stretching you out while having you at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long for your moans to get louder while your face forms a frown of pleasure. The squelching sound of your cunt and that build-up just above your core are tell-tale signs that you’re about to come. “Oh, sir…!” you wail, and Steve picks up the pace.

“I can feel that cunt clenching on me, honey. God, you’re so beautiful this way. C’mon, make a mess on my hand. Come for me,” he rasps, rubbing his cheek against yours.

Your eyes squeeze shut when you come undone on Mr. Rogers’ hand. Your aching hole squeezes his fingers, and he makes you ride your orgasm out. Your back arches, and you let out a loud moan as pleasure shocks every nerve in your body. The lewd sounds of your cunt are noisy.

You find yourself immediately wanting more, even though you shouldn’t.

“Good girl—such a good girl for me,” Steve coos before slowly sliding his fingers out your channel. Your inner walls already miss the presence of his digits. You struggle to catch your breath, but in the midst of it all, you hear your boss pull the zipper to his pants down.

“I can’t wait to get inside of you, sweetie. I need you so badly it hurts,” he says while pressing kisses against the side of your neck. Steve climbs on top of you as he frees his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.

He grips himself by the base, his entire hand wrapped around his hardness. He gives himself a few strokes as pre-cum leaks from his slit, sliding down his bulbous head. His size is marvellous, a raging purplish-red with a thick base. Steve slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, and you flinch from the unexpected jolt of pleasure. “Fuck…” he curses.

“Are you looking, sweetie? This is such a special moment for us—I hope you remember it well,” he hums in your ear, and out of your natural obedient instinct, you lift your head to where you two are about to be connected. The sight of Steve’s cock makes you whimper. “Shit, what a good little slut.”

He drags the head of his dick through your dripping folds, and then he pushes in. The sudden stretch causes your skull to fall back against the bed. You try to close your legs, but Steve’s presence makes that impossible. He refuses to let you hide what’s his.

The older man completely sheathes himself inside your pussy. The squelching sound has you cringing in shame, but that quickly disappears when the feeling of fullness takes over. Steve’s balls touch your ass when he bottoms out, and your breathing is rapid from the sensuality of it all.

A hand wraps around your throat—though gentle, it scares you at first. Your eyes meet with Mr. Rogers’, and he looks at you with what appears to be adoration.

“You feel just like heaven,” he simply tells you. “I’m never letting you go after this—never was plannin’ on it, anyway.”

Before you can even process his words, Steve starts to fuck you. His pace is slow at first, and he hits your sweet spot with ease—a feat most boys your age are incapable of. Your moans are wanton and loud, teetering on the verge of pathetic for someone who was fighting against him at first.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, and your reaction makes Steve smile. “You love this, don’t you? Yeah, always knew you needed a real man to fuck this cunt.”

His thrusts are a bit quicker now, and he pulls in and out of your wet pussy roughly. The sound of skin on skin is thunderous, nearly covering up the wet noises from your stickiness. His thick cock shines from your juices. Steve ruts into you like a starved man—because he is one.

His pelvic bone hits your clit every now and then, and his swollen, heavy balls are against the curve of your ass. He’s relentless in claiming you as his, sucking, biting, and licking at the skin on your neck.

“Oh my God—Steve–” you mewl, the pleasure blooming inside you almost too much to handle.

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you gonna come again?” Steve questions with faux pity. He punctuates each word with a thrust, fat cock pushing into your tightness. “What a pathetic little slut, making such a big mess on her boss’ cock. And I’m married too. You just can’t help it, can you?” he teases, and his filthy words have you squeezing his length from the filthiness. He lets a groan out from the feeling, and he keeps the fervour going.

That elastic band inside your stomach begins to tighten, and you can feel another orgasm build up quickly. “Go ahead. Make a mess on Daddy’s dick, baby,” he urges, and as if on command, you cream around his thickness.

Your back arches off the bed, but you don’t go anywhere far with Steve’s chest keeping you pressed down. Your hardened nipples rub against the cloth of his shirt, and the added friction makes your climax all the more breathtaking. The older man pounds into your cunt vigorously.

Stars appear in your vision until you come back down. Mr. Rogers doesn’t stop fucking you, forcing you to endure the overstimulation. Even with your legs shaking, he refuses to give up. “Good girl—such a good whore for Daddy,” he praises. The tip of his cock pummels against your G-spot continuously.

Your tits bounce with each push of Steve’s cock. Sometimes, he grazes your cervix, but the mild pain dulls away when he presses chaste kisses to your face and brutalizes your g-spot. “‘S too much,” you mumble, legs involuntarily trying to close. “Nu-uh—It’s enough when I say it’s enough. Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna fill up that pretty pussy real soon,” he says, and as if on cue, there’s a change in the way he pounds into your cunt.

His thrusts become more sloppy, but they keep the same passion and desperation that he started everything with. There’s an intensity you can’t describe because it just feels so fucking good. The hand on your neck moves and begins to caress the rest of your body. Your pulsating walls hug him, practically refusing to let go. Your skin is hot and sticky, just like his—if not more.

Wandering hands grope your body, going pliant underneath Steve. Guttural groans leave Steve’s mouth while you’re gasping endlessly. “Shit—you were made for taking this dick, sweetie. I’m gonna fill you up until you’re leaking down your thighs,” he promises, and the threat of it sounds terrific to your fucked-out mind.

“Be a good girl and soak Daddy’s cock one more time,” he orders. The blur between your previous climax and the one that takes you over now has your head spinning. You grasp the bedsheets from the overwhelming pleasure. A silent scream leaves your mouth, which Steve accompanies with a grunt followed by a string of curse words. “Fuck.”

You squeeze Steve’s length tightly, soaking him in your wetness. Electric shocks run down your spine and unto every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating for a split second. You’ve never come that hard—ever. It’s difficult to breathe, and Mr. Rogers is mean enough to make you take the euphoria he’s doling out.

Wetness stains the skin that surrounds where you two are filthily connected. Your ass is sticky, and some of your cream stains the trimmed hair at the base of Steve’s shaft. It’s a mess—one he intends on adding to with his semen.

His cock twitches inside your pussy, and with a final shove, he stills with his pelvis pressed against your clit. Steve’s balls clench, and he shudders as he reaches his own high. Ropes of cum spurt from the fat tip of the older man’s cock, painting your insides. The feeling makes you whimper as you’re filled to the brim with his seed.

For a few moments, Steve stays in that position, catching his breath while he recovers from his orgasm. Your eyes dance along his face, taking in the pinched yet relaxed look he dons.

Eventually, your boss resurfaces from the depths of his climax. You’re more than exhausted and have half a mind to fall asleep right then and there.

But the sound of the front door opening and closing shocks you from your stupor. Worry is written all over your features when Steve looks at you. “Aw, don’t worry, honey,” he hums, and though it may seem impossible, you can feel him get harder inside your pussy,

Whether it’s your evident fright or the thrill of getting caught, you’re not sure. Both make you dizzy.

Peggy’s notable accent slurs a call for Steve. “Think we should put on a show for her?” he jokes, grinding his cock further into your pussy.

You’re sure that no matter what you say, he won’t listen. And what will follow will be a nightmare you can’t escape.

But those thoughts ebb away when you hear your other boss curse a storm and abruptly leave, even though she hasn’t walked in on the pornographic scene that’s taking place in the guest room.

“Well, there’s always next time—if she’ll even make it,” Steve grumbles under his breath, but the words are too vague for you to dwell on them. “Think you’re up for round two, love? I wanna play with those tits while you ride my cock.”

For the nth time, your body betrays you and tells him your true desires. Either way, he still would’ve gotten what he wanted. Steve Rogers always gets what he wants.

[spirit-meets-the-b0ne]

God I love Dustin Henderson so much man, I know Will is in love with Mike because only a deeply down bad homosexual would be able to say Mike “is the heart” when Dustin is alive and in the party. Dustin is the one constantly mediating in S1 between Mike and Lucas, he’s even insecure of his own newness to the group when he conciliates. Because even though the party are all HIS best friends he is able to rationalize why they might have a hierarchy based on seniority. Mike makes it clear that isn’t the case. It’s partly why Dustin is quicker to accept Eleven and partly why he’s so open to including Max “as the new kid” because that was him once. Dustin’s iconic “she’s our friend and she’s crazy!” Dustin and Lucas having parallel deviations from their code of honor in ST2 and Dustin being (so dramatic ik) literally ready to fall on the sword for his misdoings. Dustin basically involving Steve out of necessity but then cultivating that relationship to make Steve a good friend, Steve who had the shittiest friends in high school and attention for all the wrong reasons. Steve never had a true friend in his life and then some 12 year old basically gave him a crash course. In ST3 when Dustin earnestly challenges Steve’s socially conditioned need to be seen as cool only for Steve to become bffs with a band geek. A band geek who is also a lesbian that Steve would rather be seen as a rizzless hack of a womanizer than out her to anybody, even Dustin. All of Dustin and Steve. Dustin going from calling Steve a douchebag, to Eddie saying the kid worships him and thinks he’s a total badass. Dustin who in ST4 is once again demolishing social norms of high school vs middle school because FUCK, his friend is in middle school! His friend Erica, his comrade Lady Applejack, is a black girl in junior high and he dgaf what anyone thinks about it. ALL OF DUSTIN AND ERICA. Dustin teaching Erica to embrace her inner nerd, to Erica staunchly declaring “I’ve bled with him!” When asked if she knows Dustin. Dustin who is the FIRST person that Max goes to when shit hits the fan in ST4 because god damn dude Dustin is the heart. Dustin’s unwavering support of Eddie even when the evidence is stacked against him, Dustin always believed in Eddie Munson. Dustin is the only one who truly offers Wayne condolences. He is the friend of all friends. Dustin is constantly carrying the party through crisis and discomfort, he’s dedicated, he’s unabashedly caring, and he’s the character that is able to socially move across the board in every direction. I fuckin love this little curly haired drama king because these geeks would be LOST without him!!! If Dustin isn’t the heart; he’s the Central Nervous System, he’s the nucleus, he’s fucking vital to not only the party but every other tertiary character of importance. He’s constantly inspiring and providing direction. He’s a goofball, he’s wise beyond his years, he’s a lover and he’s a fighter, he always has a plan and he always has a bad idea, he’s the voice of reason and the resounding falsetto alarm of things gone wrong, he’s never done anything wrong ever in his life, one time something ate his cat but besides that. He’s my heart of the show damn it!

[tk-duveraun]

Not Chronically Ill in first life SY enter's SQQ's body, who does have severe chronic illness as a result of his childhood and adolescence. SY is basically in constant musculoskeletal pain AND it feels like lava and or ice water to push qi through his meridians sometimes.

And he's stuck with the OOC lock like that. He goes to MQF before going to the Lingxi caves because he's honestly concerned this body is gonna have another fatal qi deviation if he does secluded cultivation in a place like that.

So after some therapy, MQF goes with him to find a spot to cultivate and therefore is there when LQG starts deviating.

All of this to say, he's in slightly better shape come the demon invasion and LQG is much better and quicker on the draw, so SY is saved w/o a cure, but he's still got everything else.

These horrible problems cause SY to push and bully the system to give him missions so he can learn SJ's actual backstory. Once he does, he understands and wants to redeem the scum villain bc he wants to see the best in everyone.

He finds a plot device flower to create a clone of himself (the wife who used it had taken in her sister's soul as teenagers and they were doing a timeshare on the body - a villain had used it to duplicate himself to try to overpower LBH)

He manages to find it before the IAC. SJ is not happy that some dumbass took over his body, but is somewhat mollified to have a much healthier body. He's less happy for the imposter, who is already on thin fucking ice, to read him the riot act about being aggro at YQY, he can't help that he was trapped i nthe Lingxi caves healing all of his broken bones

HE WAS WHAT

Uh oh, SY didn't know SJ didn't know that.

SY tries to run for it, but oh no, SJ is going to take full advantage of having an identical twin to deal with people and things he doesn't want. Imposter wanted his life? He can have it :)

LBH is ousted from the bamboo house, but SY still dotes on him.

YQY is very confused, but since SJ is a) back and b) talking to him, sure, yes, fine, Xiao Yuan has been here the whole time, he totally knew.

(They gaslight the other peak lords)

[ivymarquis]

So I was being a lil creep on @391780's blog and saw she'd made a comment about how {Valeria}'s so hot and so mean i just know she'd call a fat y/n something fucking terrible and make fun of her size. and whilst Imma not write any body shaming because that's fucked, my brain did black out at the mention of Valeria being terrible and wicked to Reader and this is what I came back to;

Mean Girl

Pairing| Valeria Garza x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 1.8l Kinks/Content/Warnings| Their dynamic probably isn't healthy but everything is consensual, chubby reader, anal sex, strap on, begging, punishment, name calling, slut shaming, Valeria is not dealing with reader's shit tonight, pussy slapping, squirting, aftercare

Your mother always cautioned you about bad boys growing up. You took one look at them, decided they weren’t worth the hassle and hit the books. 

Which was all fine and well when you finished school with stellar grades and no distracting boyfriends, because it wasn’t boys that caught your attention regardless of if they were bad or not. 

Now a mean girl?

As it turns out that is much more your style. 

How exactly one ventures down the “mean girl” to “cartel leader” pipeline is a mystery for the ages, but quicker than you can blink one moment you’re being introduced to El Sin Nombre’s sicaria, and the next you’re her spoiled little house cat.

Unlike the average house cat though, there’s minimal tolerance for any foolishness or shenanigans in Valeria’s household. 

She doesn’t expect much beyond your blind obedience to her every whim, and you’ve got hearts for pupils every time you look at her.  Absolutely no fucking regard to the fact that you’ve gone from no relationship experience through your schooling years and gone head first into the deep end with no life jacket with Valeria Garza of all people. 

That formal education isn’t doing you much good now.

Not that either of you are complaining. 

Valeria isn’t difficult to live with once you learn her quirks and idiosyncrasies. She is consistent in her expectations- sets the rules, and accepts no deviations from them. Anything less is punished. 

Now, considering the shit she’s probably complicit in if not outright done herself, you get off virtually scott free from punishments compared to others. You’ve still got all your fingers, limbs, and teeth thank you very much. 

But that still leaves a whole spectrum of punishment.

You’ve been on your best behavior- usually stumbling into corrections on accident and learning quickly what mistakes to not make again.

By now you’ve been with Valeria long enough that new relationship jitters shouldn’t be fluttering in your belly every time to set your eyes on her. And yet- She’s just sublime. You can’t help yourself. 

As someone who survived childhood and navigates adulthood by being polite and pleasant (occasionally to your own detriment), it is awe inspiring watching her enter a room and immediately take control of it. So far as anyone around her can tell, the world does in fact revolve around her and anyone stupid enough to not understand that is reminded of their place immediately.

You know that you’re not exempt from the firm grip Valeria keeps on her surroundings, but you manage to muck it up and overstep your place anyway.

“What’s that pretty brain of yours thinking about, Bunny?” she asks one night as the pair of you are reclined on the bed. It’s fairly obvious that she’s the subject of your current thoughts, looking at her like she hung the moon.

You don’t think much of it as you reply “Just thinking I have no idea what you see in me sometimes.”

Valeria makes her adoration of you painfully obvious so it’s not like you have reason to question it, but the pair of you are such polar opposites in every category, from build to disposition, that you’re the pinnacle of opposites attract. You wouldn’t survive a day in her world if it wasn’t readily apparent to anyone who might interact with you that Valeria will personally deliver their severed heads to their grandmothers’ doorstep if they don’t watch themselves. And, well- you don’t really do the self-pity thing because you can be hot and fat at the same time, but Valeria is hot in a conventional way that still boggles your mind when her clothes come off. 

So yes, for multiple reasons you often find yourself wondering how the hell you managed to pull her?

The previously soft, bemused expression on her face is wiped to a cold neutral as her eyes narrow sharply at you. Ah, fuck, you have just enough time to realize you stepped out of line with that comment just as she rolls over and straddles you. 

“If I wanted to fuck someone like me, Bunny, I’d just fuck myself. Perhaps you need a reminder of that?”

Next thing you know she’s got your hands bound to the headboard, ignoring the way you tug at the binds and whine as she works her strap inside your lubed up ass.

“Quit fucking squirming,” she sharply admonishes you, one hand gripping the soft flesh of your thigh for leverage as the other circles your clit to make you relax.

The beauty of a store bought cock is it’s the perfect size, part of why you can’t sit still.

As far as punishments go, once again you are getting off incredibly easy (and if you beg very, very nicely and are very apologetic and repentant you will probably get off in the conventional sense too) considering you absolutely love anal, but you’re sure Valeria already has a plan in mind to make sure she can drive her point home. We don’t want to have this conversation more than once, she’ll tell you.

“I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you cum without permission,” she reminds you, ignoring the way you whimper as she pulls her hand away from your clit as she finishes working the length of her strap in, her hips pressed flush to the plush of your ass.

“Valeria, please, I’m sorry,” you start immediately, knowing if you want to wriggle your way back into her good graces the sooner you start pleading the better.

“You’re sorry?” she mocks, ignoring the shiver that runs through you as she pulls out just to press back into you again, “We’ll see.”

Her thrusts are slow and measured with just enough force you’re seeing stars as chills run up and down your spine.

“I don’t know where the fuck you get off,” she criticizes in time with the wet clap of her hips to your ass, ��questioning me of all people.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” well, didn’t realize she’d take it like that but she’s making it abundantly clear now.

“You didn’t mean to?” she parrots back cruelly as you whine when she presses up against something inside you that has your leg shaking. “You’re such a little slut, look at how wet your cunt is,” Valeria degrades with her eyes glued between your legs, the way your skin glitters in the dim lighting from your own wetness. There’s very little you wouldn’t be willing to do to get Valeria to pay attention to your empty cunt right now, but you also know you’re on thin ice and don’t want to do anything to cause cracks to form in the ground under you.

Your focus drifts towards the knot winding itself up in your abdomen, getting bigger and threatening to grow all consuming with each knock of her hips. Your hands twitch in their binds, tugging uselessly on reflex.

“Since you’re apparently too fucking stupid to remember the rules, I’ll make this simple for you,” she starts shortly- never mind that there’s several pieces of paper hung up on the wall to prove you’re not stupid. “My decisions are without fault- ever. You do what you’re fucking told, when you’re told. I don’t keep you here to think. I keep you here because I like watching the way your whole body bounces on my cock, got it?” The force behind her thrusts increases in increments as she speaks.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble both in pleasure from your ass getting pounded and to answer her. Maybe with someone else the sting of being called stupid (or a slut) would- well, sting. But when you mind your place and the relationship is functioning like it should, you’re happily in a place where you can turn the white noise in your brain off and just follow orders like a good girl. Good girls don’t think, they just do what they’re told.

“I’m sorry” you plea again, hoping that she’ll be more magnanimous now she’s said her peace. “I’m sorry Valeria I won’t do it again,” you promise.

“You’re sorry? Or do you just want to cum?” She lets out an unimpressed huff, hips thrusting in a way that has you squealing and thrashing against your binds.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!” It’s embarrassing the way your neglected pussy is dripping down between your legs and God you just want her to ease this unbearable ache inside of you. Your thighs burn from how much they’re trembling as you scramble to appeal to any mercy Valeria has before you cum against your better judgement and really put yourself in a fucking hole.

“Please, please, please- I’ll be good I promise!” you offer desperately. The only thing you can do is focus on breathing, trying with all your might to head off your orgasm.

“Fine,” She sounds exasperated, like she’s doing you such a favor allowing you to cum. “But you take what I give you and you better be fucking grateful for it.” Valeria hisses and no sooner are you nodding your head is she swatting at your cunt- hard.

You yelp at the sudden attention to your clit, and yelp each time she lands another blow to the swollen nub between your legs. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes between how fucking close you are and the sting from her hits.

She’s not entirely without mercy it seems- or she got bored slapping your clit and wants to watch you cum now- as the hand that is striking at you drops to your clit and rubs in tight, short circles just how you like.

Valeria laughs as you flinch in anticipation of the next swing before tensing in pleasure.

You’ve got just enough sense to squeak out “Thank you! Thank you, thank you-” in a mindless babble as your orgasm washes over you wetly. You’re messy when you climax and Valeria loves watching you squirt, evident by her delighted chuckle as you ruin the sheets.

“What kind of nasty whore gets off having her ass fucked, hm? Absolutely shameless,” Valeria goads but you’re fucked dumb and can’t possibly be expected to be paying attention anymore.

Everything gets hazy after that. At a certain point Valeria does decide she’s done with you, pulling out and laughing at how you’re such a twitchy, overstimulated mess.

When you come back to the land of the living, she’s somehow managed to coax you into the tub, the pair of you relaxing in the warm water. She’s got you tucked in between her legs, leaning against her with your nose buried in the crook of her neck.

“You back with me?” she asks, tone soft and gentle as one hand strokes at your shoulder.

“Mhmm,” you hum happily, nosing against her, sated and warm in the tub.

“Good. We’ll see about scrounging up some snacks in a bit, yeah?”

That sounds like a solid plan to you, although at the moment you’re so content in the bubble of warmth she’s got you enveloped in, you could happily stay here all night.

[cherubcameron]

Love Espresso

Chapter two: welcome back to Kildare island

Synopsis: after her breakup with Rafe and him kicking her out. Her best friend offers her a new job and a place to stay. But when Rafe comes back from Morocco. He realizes he’d made a grave mistake. Will Sofia go back to him? Or will she decide that her new life means more to her than him?

Sofia was placing books by their respective shelves. She stared down at one that read “how to win his heart back,” then immediately shoving it back into one of the shelves. Even when she tried to not think of Rafe. Signs of him were everywhere. Like he was cursing her for what she did to him. And she couldn’t blame him for being angry. She would have been too. If it were her.

“Sofia! Do you know where I left the bookmarks?!” Liliana yelled. Sofia attention deviated from the books.

“Yeah! It’s in the back. Next to the printer!” Sofia yelled, she came out of the shelves. Finally finished with her tasks. Wheeling out the book cart with her, to place in the back.

“Okay, found them! Can you please start the coffee machine?!” Liliana yelled again, now in the back.

“Got it!” Sofia yells back, walking swiftly towards the coffee machine. She was glad that Liliana taught her how to use it properly. She knew how to make drinks thanks to the country club. So it wasn’t much different from that. She began to set it up, allowing the coffee machine to heat up.

She began to make sure that she had enough coffee beans, making sure it was cleaned, and making sure things were working smoothly. Before letting the machine do its thing on its own. It was ready for its first batch of coffee.

Liliana came out from the back finally. Carrying the box filled with bookmarks. A big grin on her face.

“I made these myself.” She said proudly, showcasing them to Sofia. Sofia looked at each other, her eyes roaming through them.

“Those are so pretty.” She said in awe. “You’ll definitely stand out with those. They’re not like the typical ones you see at the bookstores. It looks like you took some time with them.”

Liliana blushed, “It just took me three days to finalize. Oh! Also Hector is coming to help us with the shop. He’s going to be making all the little pastries.” She waved Sofia’s comment away. But Sofia could tell it meant a lot. Liliana loved anything creative. It made perfect sense that she made the bookmarks herself.

Sofia looked at her agaped, “Hector? Seriously? How?”

“I’m good at finding what makes people heart sing.” Liliana said, her eyes closing as she smiled. Sofia gave her an incredulous look.

When Liliana finally opened her eyes, she spotted the look Sofia gave her. Her smile dropping replaced with a scowl.

“He likes to bake. I helped him discover his dreams and to chase them.” Sofia raises an eyebrow at her, Liliana face drops once more.

“Rude. Anyway, he’s going to help us on that front. You and I can switch between doing the register and the floor. I’m still trying to hire more people.” Liliana explains, looking around. “They do say it takes a village.”

Sofia smiled up at her friend, she couldn’t help the way her heart swelled. She was so proud of her friend. Happy that she got to experience this with her.

Liliana goes to squeeze Sofias hand. “Thank you so much for helping me. I wouldn’t have done this without you.”

“Same here.” The words hold more weight, she hopes Liliana understands how much everything she’s done means to Sofia. She can only squeeze her hand back.

Rafe stared up at his house, apart of him hopeful. Maybe she hadn’t left. She hadn’t run off, this whole situation was messy. He hated not having the chance to talk to her. He wished he hadn’t let his anger get the best of him. She still betrayed him, so why did he feel like shit about it?

Once he managed to get himself to walk inside. He walked in slowly, trying to see if he could hear any noise. He didn’t hear any movements. He began to walk in quicker to the kitchen. He took a harsh intake of breath.

There lay the ring.

So she hadn’t taken it. She hadn’t left with it, to pawn it. She’d let him go, just like that. He didn’t know why he felt so upset. He’d told her to pack up her shit and leave. Of course, she listened. It was Sofia.

Rafe ran a hand through his buzz cut. This is not what he had anticipated. And now he had to admit to himself that he wished she had fought for their relationship.

“Hey Rafe?” Sarah says coming into the kitchen. She stops once she sees what he’s looking at. “That’s mom’s ring.”

Rafe nods, his eyes glued to it. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Sofia had just left it.

“You gave her mom’s ring?” Sarah asked, in shock. Rafe doesn’t speak at first, the regret building a home in his heart. Why didn’t he hear her out? He never found out the reason why Sofia did it.

“Rafe—

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay.” Rafe says quickly. He doesn’t want to be around anyone at the moment. He wants to be alone. This was all too much. He sees how spotless the house looks. Like Sofia had never even step foot in here since he’d proposed. Since he… broke up with her over the phone.

Sarah looks at him, but doesn’t say anything more. Rafe can feel her eyes on him and he tries to keep his face neutral. But he can’t help but let a scowl appear on his face.

“Rafe, she obviously meant a lot to you.” Sarah whispers. Rafe stares only at the ring. Tears start to film in his eyes and he wants to be alone. But doesn’t know how to say it gently. So he just shrugs.

“She betrayed me. Why am I the one who has to feel like shit for breaking up with her?” He asks bitterly, his voice is hoarse.

Sarah puts her head on his arm. A gesture that was very foreign for the Cameron siblings. But things had changed.

“You still loved her Rafe. That doesn’t change how you felt.”

Rafe finally managed to walk towards the kitchen counter. Picking up the ring in his hands. Letting the light glint against the diamond.

Sofia met up with Catalina. She still worked at the country club and she’d just gotten out of her shift for the day. Catalina took one good look at her and smiled.

“Mi amiguis!” Catalina squealed running towards Sofia. Sofia laughed, as Catalina wrapped her arms around Sofia. Sofia returning the hug.

“Hey cutie.” Sofia looked towards the country club. Seeing it again stirred emotions she didn’t think it would. Her smiles falters for a second before she turns her attention back to Catalina.

Catalina can see the conflicting look on sofias face. She sighs.

“He’s back.” She simply says, Sofia hearts drops.

“Oh.” She wasn’t expecting Catalina to tell her that. She lets a fake smile appear on her face.

“Good-good for him.”

“Sofia. I know you’re not happy about it.” Catalina says, unfortunately her friends could read her like a book. A quality that she both admired and hated at the same time.

“It’s fine. It’s— fine.” Sofia lies, she’s not ready. She can feel her heart sink. She doesn’t know how she’ll face him. She’s glad at least she’s no longer apart of the country club. She doesn’t have to deal with Rafe and his kook friends. Sofia lets out a sigh.

“Let’s go, okay. I’m hungry.” Sofia is glad that Catalina changes the subject. Sofia nods and takes Catalina to her car.

Song Sofia is listening to on her playlist

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day five

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : fluff, flirting, drinking, everyone gets a kiss

length : 4.2k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @somebodyels3

a/n : here we go!! enjoy and feel free to comment, ask, reblog 💗

•••

day five

Something about the check-in at the hotel in Manchester was fishy and had caused a ridiculous amount of chaos that needed to be sorted out by the tour managers. I made the best of the situation and got comfortable in the lobby with my laptop, determined to get some work done ahead of time. Lia was going to be here in just a few hours and I'd promised her to free my schedule as much as possible.

Plus, I knew we would be drinking, so the ride to Glasgow tomorrow was going to be spent regretting my hangover and lying in my bunk, not doing hours of work.

The only strange thing about the day so far was that I had seen neither Oli nor Noah. Noah’s absence was to be expected to a certain extent; he was in a different band, on a different bus, with slightly deviating schedules, so the chances of running into each other could be quite low. I hadn't gotten a message from him either though. At least rumour had been going around that he woke up as good as new this morning, whatever had been beating him down yesterday had vanished completely. Oli was more surprising considering he was consistently put into an adjacent hotel room, travelled in the same tour bus and technically employed me.

Funnily enough, the question about the two missing frontmen was answered sooner than the check-in chaos got resolved. I heard the two of them entering the lobby together before I saw them. Pushing each other away, both seemed eager to get to me first as soon as they spotted me, stealing a bag from each other's hands over and over again.

“Fucking stop, I’m the one who knew to get this for her,” Oli complained, trying to keep the paper bag out of Noah’s reach, who was quicker than him and caught it behind Oli’s back.

“Yeah, and I’m the one who’s gonna give it to her!”

“Give it back, you wanker!”

Their fight came to an abrupt end as they stood in front of me looking up at them over my laptop.

“I got you something,” Oli explained, motioning to the bag.

“We got you something,” Noah corrected.

“Just because you walked next to me, doesn’t mean you had anything to do with it!”

I felt another bout of their little spat coming on, so I quickly intervened and stole the bag from Noah’s hands. Both of them quieted down immediately, watching me as I opened it up. The sweet scent of pastries filled my nostrils immediately.

“Are these…?” I didn’t finish my question as I brought the baked good to my nose, inhaling it deeply once again before taking a hearty bite ouf of its flakey goodness. I didn't know how Oli new. I couldn't remember if I'd ever told him and if I had, I was sure it was in passing only. The fact that he not only was aware of my sweet tooth but also went out of his way to satisfy it with my favourite goods caused my stomach to flip. “Thank you so much, that’s so sweet.”

“From your favourite bakery,” Oli proudly agreed. “You said you weren’t in Manchester that often and- well, I thought after yesterday-”

“Wait, what happened yesterday?”

Suddenly, Noah was all ears. I was much too preoccupied with the best thing I’d tasted in months to think about how to explain. Oli had mentioned it, Oli could solve the situation.

“Aubrey was in a right mood last night,” Oli said with grin. “A little brat.”

I almost choked on my pastry, a few flakes flying away from me as I got my breathing back under control. I shouldn’t have been so surprised. Oli was hardly known for being a prude about these things.

“And I went to sleep instead,” Noah groaned, sounding genuinely remorseful. Our eyes met for a moment. Somehow, I knew we were both remembering last night, too, me bringing him back to the hotel room, him warning me off. He looked away first, as if a little embarrassed. I wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“I’m sure you’ll find out for yourself soon enough,” it burst out of me. But I’d already learned that the combination of us three left very little room to hold back in that aspect.

Oli leaned down to me, his thumb wiping at the corner of my mouth where some chocolate had seemingly gotten stuck. He tapped my lips. It was enough for me to dumbly open my mouth and suck it in, twirling my tongue around it to get another taste. He chuckled darkly, satisfied how easily I went along with him, before pulling away, finding another bit of chocolate to swipe away, this time offering his thumb to Noah.

He was torn. Quite visibly so. The tension hung in the air as he tried to decide on which move to make now, all three of us basically holding our breaths to see what would transpire.

Then, some loud laughter from the crew erupted somewhere else in the lobby, loud enough to pull him out of it. He actually shook his head, as if that could make the thoughts disappear.

“Fuck you, Oli,” he muttered, without much force behind it.

“Yeah,” Oli laughed, licking the chocolate of his thumb himself, “I bet you’d like to.”

•••

Whoever said that time flies when you’re having fun had never felt time slipping through your fingers when you were desperately trying to get your boss to get to all things in his agenda on time while he was being an absolute arse for no reason but to amuse himself. On top of that, your best friend was blowing up your phone in excitement of getting to see you, effectively starting a countdown that only served to distract you from the work you should be doing.

By seven o’clock, I was thoroughly exhausted and annoyed. At some point, Noah had even pulled me aside to give me a much needed hug, although it had been cut short by Lia announcing her imminent arrival. Luckily, Lia did what she did best and that was raise my mood impossibly the very second I saw her.

Her arms around me felt like home. She was the only anchor I felt I still had, while I was always trying to never get too settled in one place with my work taking me all over, but we’d been friends since childhood and she’d always refused to budge. I didn’t thank her for it enough.

“Okay, catch me up asap, what’s been happening, what’s been going down, have you managed to bang anyone yet?”

I shot an apologetic smile at the two stagehands walking past as I walked down the corridor with Lia, an AAA pass hung around her neck and so excited that I wondered if she’d had a drink before coming here. With a slightly quicker step, I dragged her into Oli’s dressing room, aware he was currently hanging out with the rest of his band.

“Well, there’s been no fucking, but…”

I awkwardly started tidying up the dressing room. It came as second nature, really, trying to make sure things were in order, helping Oli out for later, not letting him drown in his chaos. I busied myself with a hoodie that I decided needed folding.

“But?! Aubrey, you’re not seriously gonna leave me starved for information here!”

“I mean, I did make out with Noah and I’ve seen Oli’s dick, so…”

Her squealing, I was pretty sure, could be heard next door and I couldn’t help but laugh. Lia was nothing if not supportive of basically anything I did.

I gave her a quick rundown of the last few days, keeping some of the details to myself while still letting her know what I’d been up to, including just about every endeavour I’d found myself in with the guys. She did nothing short of react appropriately, aw-ing and ooh-in and gasping and laughing. I’d missed having her around.

In the middle of me letting Lia know that, yes, I most definitely got cleaned up after last night’s escapade and, no, Oli and I hadn’t spoken about it yet and also, no, I didn’t think Noah knew, when the door to the dressing room flew open and revealed Oli himself.

“Speak of the devil,” Lia mused and I briefly panicked about her letting Oli know just what we were talking about, even though I knew fully well she would never betray me like that.

“I could say the same about you,” Oli replied, attempting to sound cruel but unable to hide the smile on his face.

“Why on earth would you have been talking about me?”

“Oh, I wasn’t. I was referring to the part where you are the devil.”

“Oh, you bastard!” Lia exclaimed with a laugh. “You coming out with us after the show?”

“Hell no. We got an early bus call and a four-hour drive to Glasgow. And I know what you get up to, Lia.”

My heart sank a little, even though I knew Oli was only being reasonable. We did only have a few hours in the hotel before we needed to get going again. I was going to be fine, really - I planned on not getting blackout drunk and there wasn’t too much left for me to do tomorrow that I hadn’t already taken care of. Plus, I wasn’t the one who had to be up on stage that night delivering the show of their life.

“Fucking party pooper.”

“I’m so much of a party pooper that I specifically came to get you two because Bad Omens are about to start. Managed to organise some wine for you too. Good enough?”

“Just about,” Lia mused, standing up and walking past him and out of the room with the confidence only someone who had on idea which way the stage was could have. We both looked at her leave, overly amused, until I remembered she was my friend and I should probably make sure she wouldn’t get completely lost.

Oli stopped me at the door. “You gonna stop by when you get back tonight?”

“I could just text you that I got back safe, you know. It might get late.”

He slung his arm around my waist, pulling me into a side hug, a telling smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll gladly wake up for you.”

•••

I wasn’t quite sure how we ended up in Oli’s suite - a suite! Motherfucker had a suite all to himself! - playing questionable drinking games (Truth or dare? Never have I ever? 21 questions? Honestly, it was hard to tell at this point) way past midnight and maybe it was because I was a little intoxicated - not drunk, I was still aware I had a bus ride in just a few hours - but I was tipsy enough not to question it just yet.

The evening had gone something like this: Oli had, in fact, organised two bottles of wine and exclusive seats for us during the show. Lia was blown away by Bad Omens and the way Noah sang and how she couldn’t blame me at all for crushing on him. Then, Lia followed it up by being blown away by Bring Me The Horizon and their production and the Oli’s stage presence and the fact that I had somehow not banged him yet. Especially when he effectively climbed his videographer. Didn't help with the thoughts in my head either. Both of those bottles were killed by the time the show was over.

We had briefly ventured out to Lia’s favourite bar for a few shots, but had quickly realised that talking about Oli and Noah in a crowded place full of people who had just left the very concert they had performed at, wasn’t the wisest decision. So, with some more alcohol in tow, Lia had stolen my phone and texted the two men and somehow, somehow convinced them to join us for a little afterparty. Now all of us were feeling the buzz and going along with Lia’s questionable ideas.

“Worst place you’ve ever vomited?”

“Just about every single time it happened on stage, and love, it happened,” Oli laughed. Those had been the bad times. I didn’t miss them at all. I’d trade them for this version of Oli, happy, healthy, optimistic, flirty, bloody gorgeous any day.

“Alright. No need to get into that. Noah, empty your wallet and show everyone what’s inside.”

Noah didn’t hesitate, grabbing the item from the back pocket of his trousers and emptying its contents. There wasn’t too much interesting stuff in there - ID, a credit card, some loose change in more than one currency. Lia grabbed onto the condom wrappers immediately. Three of them.

“Ultra thin, extra lube, ribbed,” she read aloud. “Damn, someone knows how to treat their partners.”

Noah blushed a little under the redness that the alcohol had already flushed his cheeks with. I was pretty sure I did the same, my mind running away with thoughts. This was good. He quickly gathered them up again and stowed them away but I didn’t think he missed the way Oli raised his eyebrows at him. Surprise enough that he didn’t say anything.

“Aubrey, who would you like to kiss in this room?”

“Who wouldn’t I like to kiss!” I giggled, taking another sip of wine, even though it was starting to get to my head. Obviously.

“Well, me, hopefully, or you’ll have to deal with my wife,” Lia laughed, holding up the wedding ring on her finger. “Anyway. What caused your last relationship to break down?”

She didn’t aim the question at anyone in particular, but Noah, sweet, closed-off Noah, suddenly had an intense urge to answer.

“What didn't,” he groaned, throwing his had back and cradling the bottle in his hands. “Touring, the distance, the groupies that don’t exist, the missed phone calls, the not being enough.” He threw his hands in the air in defeat. I thought it was the most he had revealed about himself, like, ever. “And here comes the kicker. I was talking about proposing to her with the guys and looking up rings the very morning of the day she broke up with me.”

Silence engulfed us. A comment from Folio, just a few days ago, and Noah’s very unamused answer was whirling in my head, but I was too intoxicated to make perfect sense of it right now. I just knew there was a connection.

I didn’t know if telling him I was sorry would cut it. Bit of a big deal, really, finding someone to marry who drops you like that. What do you say to that? Luckily, good old Oli jumped in pretty much immediately.

“Emotionally unavailable and obsessed with myself,” he said. “Pretty sure that’s a direct quote, too. Probably not too wrong about it either.”

Apparently we were sharing break-up stories now. My turn, I decided.

“Told her that, very theoretically, mind, I would be open to polyarmory. Because, you know, I definitely think you can be in love with more than one person. And if everyone’s happy, I’m sure there’s something great about relationships that aren’t just two people. Well,” I mused, throwing back another sip of wine to keep myself going, spilling a little on my top, “all she heard was ‘this is an open relationship without any rules now’ and went and banged someone else the next day.”

The three of us looked each other, throwing pitiful looks around, realising we were all pretty fucked up in our own ways, and suddenly broke out laughing. It almost took my breath away, the intensity of the relief of sharing these little things with people so dear to me, letting them understand me a little better, understanding them a little better in return and oh god more wine on me. These jeans would have to go straight into the washing.

“Enough tearjerker stories,” Lia announced, but there was no malice in her words. “Let’s get back to the fun questions! Worst sex experience! Oli, please, I want to hear yours.”

“Alright, first one that comes to mind right now, couple of years ago, right, I hook up with this girl, all fun and games, but it’s very fucking tame, you know? And out of nowhere she just fucking chokes me. I’m not saying I don’t like it, but that proper came out of fucking nowhere. Like. Normally, you’d ease up to it, if you hadn’t talked about it.”

Suddenly, Oli seemed to be sitting much closer to Noah than before. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination. Or the light.

“You’d have your hands on them somewhere,” Oli explained, drawing out his words, as his hand landed on Noah’s chest. He was caught off guard for a moment, but silently allowed the moment to play out. “Slowly move them up, see if they enjoy it.” 

Oli followed through. Noah was definitely enjoying it. I was transfixed on the display in front of me.

 “Get a little skin-on-skin contact.”

His fingers were tracing the line where Noah’s shirt ended, just letting his fingertips play with the hem a little. I’d never seen Oli so gentle, but it was doing things to my body. Noah’s breathing was speeding up now, chest heaving, unable to keep it hidden. I couldn’t blame him at all.

“See how they react to your hand being closer to their throat.”

Oli’s hand moved higher, carefully stroking the skin at Noah’s neck. Noah swallowed, hard, his eyelids fluttering shut. It was as if he was loosing all control over his bodily reactions. It was intoxicating to watch.

“And maybe, you know, if they don’t move away or move your hand, you can give it a try.”

And Oli did. Wrapping his hand around Noah’s throat and squeezing a little. Just the slightest bit. Just the possibility of more. And Noah moaned.

“And that’s my cue to get myself on an uber home!” Lia declared loudly, standing up and just about catching the wine bottle that had been in her lap before it toppled over onto the carpet. She was swaying a little, quite obviously the most drunk out of the four of us and I quickly made the executive decision to accompany her downstairs and wait with her. Oli gave me a nod, a satisfied smirk on his face. Noah didn’t look at me at all, but he seemed to be questioning all his life choices.

“Girl! What’s going on between the two of them? I knew you were developing… something with both of them, you didn’t tell me about the two of them with each other!”

I awkwardly fumbled with Oli’s room key as we descended on the lift. “I don’t think they know either.”

“But, do you mind?”

I looked at her, thoughtful for a moment, almost missing the time frame to leave the lift as it arrived in the lobby. Did I mind?

“No,” I answered, without giving it any further thought, just knowing. “No, I really don’t.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Lia giggled, giving me a hug so enthusiastically it almost toppled us over. “Now go, go and get them together and then get them both for yourself.”

•••

I didn’t knock when I used the key card to get back into Oli’s room. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that I was going to be back - not only had I actively snatched the card from the desk but I had also left all my stuff in there. Still, none of us had seen the situation coming, apparently.

The first thing I saw when I entered the room was that neither Oli nor Noah were still sitting on the couch. The second thing I saw was that Oli had pressed Noah against the wall instead.

They didn’t notice me immediately, too caught up in their own world as Oli frantically pressed his lips to Noah’s. Entangled as if they simply couldn’t get close enough, one of Oli’s hands was in Noah’s hair, keeping him in place, keeping him complacent, the other running up the outside of his thigh, as Noah was pawing at Oli’s back, as if not sure what his hands were looking for, but trying all the same. My heart fluttered with… love? The door falling shut behind me caught their attention.

They didn’t jump apart. In fact, their hands were still exactly where they had left them. But both of them had turned their heads so fast it looked painful.

“Don’t stop on my account,” I grinned. “I’m very much enjoying this.”

Noah was visibly shaken up and out of breath and I wondered if that was what happened to people who got to kiss Oli Sykes, but Oli himself was in the best of moods.

“See, I heard that you went and kissed our Noah here,” he explained, slowly detaching himself from him. Noah’s body almost followed on its own account, seemingly not having enough of the other man just yet. “And I got really, really jealous. But now I’m realising that means he got to kiss you, too.”

“There’s really no need to be jealous, at all,” I replied, letting him come closer and closer, just to push him back onto the couch. Straddling his lap, my thighs on either side of his, was a logical conclusion. “You can kiss me anytime.”

There was a hint of hesitation. Something familiar in his eyes, something like home. A decade-long friendship that was begging to be ruined. I knew he saw the same in me. We’d done things with each other, things to each other, that went beyond any regular friendship. But this moment, this temptation of finally getting his mouth on mine, a kiss, felt like it weighed so much more heavily on both of us.

His hands landed on my thighs, moving up to the small of my back, giving me security and safety and all rationality be damned, I leaned down and allowed my lips to touch his.

A shockwave travelled through every inch of my being, then the tension evaporated, as if this was where I'd always meant to be. Oli was soft and pliant under me, a stark contrast to how he usually presented himself, to how he usually behaved around me even, but I indulged in the feeling, grabbing onto his arms to make them wrap around me, letting him hold me close, tightly. I couldn't stop my own hands from tracing along his torso, his neck, his face, silently mapping his body in a way I had never been allowed to before. When his tongue licked against my lips, I let him in.

The kiss became more frantic as I lost all self-control. Years and years of unfulfilled desires poured into us as I pressed myself into him. Oli tasted sweet, so much sweeter than expected, even with the beer still lingering. I could feel myself falling, deeper and deeper, like a feral animal willingly setting foot into a trap, the temptation of the bait calling too loudly to ignore.

I noticed the couch dip before my brain realised Noah was next to us. Then his hand was at the back of my head, gripping my hair and pulling me off Oli. Instantly, he had me turned toward him, Oli’s hands still on me, my body still on his lap, but now my lips were crashing into Noah’s. It was electrifying, his frantic kiss, how his lust must have built as he watched us. Oli’s mouth now at my neck, licking along my tendon, finishing it off with a soft bite.

Noah swallowed my moans easily, still holding me in place, still roughly moving my head to his own wishes. Oli was grinding up into me, his hard dick against my core making me squirm even through the layers, thoughts of what it had looked like, what he had looked like overwhelming my mind. When Noah let go of me it felt so sudden that I almost lost my balance, hands trying to find the couch table behind me as a way to steady myself. The dull noise of a bottle hitting the carpeted floor had all three of us halt in our movements.

The wine ended up on the carpet after all, like a bad metaphor for whatever the three of us had just started and might be unable to stop.

I got up from Oli’s lap, Noah also standing up as if he suddenly didn’t know where he was supposed to be anymore. The awkwardness in the room was tangible, the lines we had just crossed almost becoming visible in my mind as my tipsy brain struggled to make sense of the consequences.

When Noah and I announced our separate departures, Oli didn’t say a word, still staring at the dark red colour seeping into the plush beneath his feet. Both of us went in opposite directions in the hallway. I didn’t know if that was supposed to be a metaphor too.

[andreal831]

What do you think of heretics?

I prefer supernatural shows that have a closed world, meaning they have set rules and don't deviate from this. TVD started very closed with just the three supernatural creatures: vampires, werewolves, and witches. It's also why I couldn't get into Legacies because they kept introducing new creatures. It removes any stakes or logic when they do that.

That being said, I really enjoyed the heretics.

They still technically played by the same rules. We always knew there were different types of witches who draw their magic from different elements. So introducing witches who have to draw their magic from others was so interesting. It actually makes them weaker witches since they have to rely on draining magic from others, however, when combined with vampires, it makes them nearly unstoppable.

Witches can take down vampires so easily. The only advantage vampires have is that they are quicker and can use the element of surprise. Heretics eliminate this since they can be just as fast. It was a nice change of pace in TVD to watch the MF Gang go up against enemies they couldn't beat since they typically had so much plot armor. Like come on, how did they survive the Mikaelsons??

I will say, you can easily push back on the logic of it all, the "loophole" which allows siphoner to maintain their magic. But since we know from Bonnie's mom that it felt like she was cut off from nature, which is where other witches derive their magic, and since turning into a vampire gives siphoners constant access, I can buy the loophole.

I do find it hard to believe that Valerie was the first ever heretic. Vampires had existed for 800 years at that point. You're telling me in 800 years, no siphoner witch had ever been turned into a vampire?

I also found it ridiculous that Valerie just disappeared and never made a reappearance, even in Legacies. She was the only known living siphoner, which could have helped Lizzie or could have taken the Hollow from Hope instead of letting children do it. I also feel like Hayley said she found a Siphoner witch to take the cure from Freya in the beginning of Season 4, which would have had to be Valerie, yet they didn't explain that further.

But as a whole I enjoyed the storyline. There were parts that definitely could have been written better, but the characters were interesting and made you root for them at times even when they opposed the main characters.

Thanks for the ask!

[rmorde]

Trigun Manga Reaction

Now back with Volume 1 - Chapter 3

I like this. Simple pose but very interesting with the "imbalance" I guess with the tilted head, shadowed face, and slightly lower slope of one shoulder. It's not "stiff" and it's easy to imagine the wind blowing through Vash's coat and hair.

A thought occurs tho, Did Trigun predate Tetsuya Nomura's obsessive belts, belts, and more belts design quirk? Did Nightow and Vash started that anime fashion trend?

Uhuh. Says the people who tried to shoot a GRENADE at that same one guy.

I kinda put these three panels in a sequence because... we know Vash is a good guy. Of course, he's going to save the women but the emphasis on the Nebraskas reaction to his rescue is really interesting.

Vash gives them a side-eye. He's either gauging their capacity for mercy or already clocked in that they are capable of mercy and silently hints for them to wait just a moment.

Father Nebraska understanding and just waits as he smokes. Then confirms first if Vash is ready to rumble again.

Idk. It's a moment of humanity not only for Vash but for the Nebraskas too imo.

AND IT'S WEIRD! In '98, Father Nebraska tried to get a cheap shot on Vash while he was still carrying someone to safety.

Yeah, assholes. Vash is doing his best to keep the women in the clear while you guys just throws grenades willy-nilly into buildings who have people in them. Smh.

Ngl. This sequence confuses me a bit. But, going with what happened earlier, the Nebraskas were not targeting the women. The punch was intended for Vash - which he dodged easily. However, instead of running further away, he shielded the women from the flying debris that the punch caused.

WHICH AGAIN, I REITERATE, IS REALLY WEIRD FOR '98 TO DEVIATE FROM!

In the '98, they are bonafide bad guys but in the manga they're still bad but not "Muwahahaha I'll shoot the injured women Hahahaha!" bad . The Nebraskas have some semblance of honor here.

I guess this is why TriStamp has a much more nuanced presentation of these characters. It's closer to the manga.

Oof... Owww... Vash... 😢

Another gorgeous art. I like how Nightow's way of using perspective here!

Junior is established to be huge - a giant. He always take up so much space in the panels/pages like below:

However, when Vash finally "duelled" them seriously. Doesn't Junior suddenly "feels" smaller and Vash really big?

It's really cool how it instantly shows that Vash isn't goofing off anymore and the Nebraskas stand no chance in winning this.

Ragey Baby Girl no longer smiling.

Sigh. Gotta admire their one track mind.

Ngl. The line work here gave me Junji Ito vides for some reason. Vash's eye look haunting, cold, and really old.

Linework carrying hard on this page. Vash is obviously quicker with how much lines are there in his entire arm - convincingly too fast of a blur. Meanwhile Junior has less lines which makes his fist less blurry and, therefore, slower.

Clever use of the sound effects in the first panel.

I don't know what the fuck is going on in the second panel. I've been staring at it too long already and I still can't understand except it has something to do with Junior's arm?

Third panel is the crazy detail on Vash's eye. His glasses seem like he is looking at the side. However, on closer inspection, Vash is actually not looking away from the incoming attack.

The following pages is really great at building the tension on how would this duel end. The '98 anime captured it very well!

Looking cool, Vash!

Also, is it just me or does he always look for opportunities to show off his flexibility and long long legs. Must he really split here?

...

...

YES. YES HE MUST.

Oh. Ooooh! So that's what happened!

In '98, this conclusion was given to the bandit in Episode 1. His own enhancements crunching his body until he passed out and lost to Vash. However, they can't exactly rehash this in Episode 5. So, we have the "LOVE AND PEACE!" scene instead.

Admittedly, I prefer the "LOVE AND PEACE" conclusion more.

I like how, so far imo, Nightow just gives no fucks about anatomy in his art. I mean... Look at this! Even if we reason that it's because his coat is dramatically billowing with the wind, Vash's body is not proportionate. However, it doesn't matter! It looks cool and it evokes the right emotions just fine: fear and awe.

OMFG?!!! The trials these two are going through! These poor insurance ladies! Milly hanging on for dear life to that pillar. Meryl just screaming her lungs out EVEN WITH A MEGAPHONE!

AND IT WAS FOR NOTHING!!!! OML

Being considered as someone equivalent to a natural disaster shouldn't bring joy, but damn it... LOOK AT HOW HAPPY VASH IS!!! AWWW BABY GIRL!!!

Wow. They blame HER!!! How dare- Meryl beat them up! No, Milly. LET MERYL HAVE THEM!!! THEY DESERVE TO BE CRUMPLED LIKE TISSUE PAPER AFTER THROWING OFF GRENADES LIKE CONFETTI EARLIER AT VASH!!!

Awww. Their first interaction is SO CUTE!!!

In '98, it's funny and amusing. Ditto on TriStamp. But this one is sweet since Meryl and Milly kinda saved Vash in here.

I mean. Yeah, the townspeople are scared because Vash just beat the Nebraskas, but they are desperate for money. Desperation can override fear given enough time. Vash would've been hunted all over again.

I take it back. The insurance ladies climbing up to that bell tower was not for nothing. It was enough to allow Vash a moment to breathe and, as he rejoices, be free (even just for a while).

Wonder what exactly went through Vash's head here. Confusion? Fear? Dread?

HELL YEAH!!! BADASS LADIES IN LONG COATS! STRIKE FEAR TO THE HEARTS OF EVERYONE!!!

Oh. Some responses to the a couple of tags:

@alena-reblobs

Thanks! Glad you're having fun too because I sure am. I appreciate the warning and I'm kinda nervous because the action this chapter was kinda confusing to understand. Hopefully, it won't get worse (will it?) I agree that they are very cool nonetheless!

@eldritchneuro

Thanks for explaining! Paneling is always fun to study in mangas because they usually follow a 3 or 4 panels which mangakas creatively breakdown to evoke a feeling among readers.

Trigun is interesting because its from the 90's! So, some of the paneling are probably "prototypes" of the crazy ones we'd see in modern mangas.

I guess, Nightow's aiming to make the page very "cinematic" with slo-mo (sparse panels) and hyper focus on details (graphic weight). It draws us readers in to the story more effectively as if we are there too with the townspeople looking at the Humanoid Typhoon.

[mewmckenna]

Thoughts about Eliza x William and Nash

As we have come to the end of season four of MSATD, I have been rethinking some of the aspects of the show. From the very beginning of the show, I was a hardcore Eliza x William shipper, as I think most people were, but recently I have certain reservations about this ship and it's all Patrick Nash's fault.

I have always been a fan of William as a character as I think about his character arc and the development he has gone through over the season. I rewatched parts of season one recently, the end of season one, and yikes he really was just saying things. However, William has grown and he has certainly become more supportive of Eliza’s career, going so far as to go out of his way to help her and compliment her skills when she doubts herself. I don't dislike William and Eliza as a couple now, but I find that they are no longer the most intriguing option for me anymore though I know they are almost certainly going to be endgame. Perhaps they could be enough for me in another world where there is not another option for Eliza sitting literally Right There, who does not and has never had the same scruples about her gender and her abilities.

The issues that Patrick has with Eliza are not because of those aspects of her identity, but rather the areas where their personalities, styles, and sometimes morals do not align. That being said, they also tend to work through issues much quicker and easier than Eliza and William do. Their problems tend to only escalate when their goals deviate and Eliza and Patrick can disagree about things without it becoming a bigger problem. Nash wants to protect his business and Eliza wants to prove herself and to do the right thing. These goals do not always align and this causes friction between the two. This, however, seems to be something Patrick is actively working on as he mentions both in season two and season four how she makes him want to be a better person. Also, while William spends much of the first couple of seasons actively trying to get Eliza to change and become more like what their society wants her to be, Nash never has this expectation of her, having only known her as a detective. This is therefore a common area of disagreement for Eliza and William that she is able to avoid with Patrick.

Eliza and William also have this issue of differences in goals but I’m not sure how the writers are planning to rectify the issue. As Arabella says in season 3, Eliza will always choose her job over anything else, including William. While I am personally not a fan of Arabella because of the whole Victorian-pick-me-girl thing she has going on, I do agree with her here. We see this issue being brought up again in season 4 when William decides to go to America. He knows that a future with Eliza could only happen if something in their relationship gives, and at this point, it seems like it’s going to have to come from him. His idea of marriage has certainly changed over time, but his issues with Eliza’s position remain, as he says when he tells her that he leaves. William can’t continue working with the police while she is an investigator and she will not stop working just so that they could be married. 

William himself sees the impossibility of the situation, and frankly, I think that the only way that they could end up together would be for him to leave Scotland Yard and come to work with her at her agency. Eliza has of course already offered this to him once in season two and he was very much against the idea, but I think in season five William might have enough development to understand where she’s coming from. That being said, as they are now, I would honestly hate for either of them to have to give up their ambitions for the other. Perhaps William is going to get even more development in season five and decide to give up on his career with the police. If not, the end of this show will be rather shocking for the larger audience lol.

[dangopango00]

ELIO INSANE PERSON RAMBLINGS AFTER DISSECTING SEEING THE LEAK

Pt. 1 because I have more to say somehow erm.

Theres basically no content for him but hes sosooo cuteeeeee

Context: In my head he is a fly he has compound eyes like the fly loswr he is

CW: Leaks maybe spoilers??

[ Design/Symbolism (IMG A)

OK FIRST OBSERVE FLY EYES; Theyre compound and have millions of ‘bubbles’ in them. So in my head on elio would represent the different “bubble universes” or rather the millions of possibilities that although generally the same, slightly differ with different choices and outcomes

ELIO IS ALSO AKSHUALLY THE FLY ON THE WALL that phrase represents him really well considering although hes the leader hes the one in the limelight the least out of everyone and just gathers info while making plans. Flies are also considered filthy and sly and bottom feeders n pests and as a stellaron hunter he gets the same treatment as well

[ Function (IMG B)

But besides the appearance the actual function: This is pretty good symbolism for what he sees bc not only does he see a wider range of possibilities than the average person but he can also notice even the slightest movements which is ofc the slightest changes in a scenario that makes the outcome completely different and about flies being able to see things at a quicker pace; I heard that when u swat at a fly they see it in like slow motion and this is pretty symbolic of elio since he sees FARRR into the future wayyy before its even close to coming to fruition

[ Theories (IMG C)

A silly lil hc theory i have bc of this fact and because his alias is “Destiny’s Slave” is that he cant rlly control seeing the future much kind of like a premonition..????? Idk but i like to play with how herta calls all the stellaron hunters lunatics and him a maniac bc like. Its a little true. Theyre all a lil bit cray cray from what weve seen but theres method to their madness so im like hm well elio must have his quirks SO seeing the future so often without wanting to has him a little bit (crazy person hand gesture) so i imagine its a little overwhelming when he suddenly gets a “premonition” like when he suddenly sees the future its a bunch of scattered possibilities filling his mind but when he focuses on it they can converge to create a “perfect reality” where everything goes the best way possible

Also theres so many different “paths” the future holds like it could be the future for that day or the fate of the world or even the fate of the universe so i imagine he was either made/given this power specifically to puppeteer this specific outcome or “story” but its a little draining to think of the big picture constantly or think about things the bigger they are which is why he makes scripts day by day or week by week (????)

I also think he gets like reminders kinda like little flashes into some specific aspects that although he has seen hasnt really focused on or been able to think of bc theyr pretty far ahead and his head is already full so it being so overwhelming, just slipped his mind to kind of create a whole “chain of events” URGGHHH THIS IS SO HARD I CANT TELL IF HES OMNIPOTENT OR LEARNING ALONG THE WAY

I also found it interesting that he told kafka that she and stelle would “change each other” it heavily suggests that maybe he can force the thought of specific scenarios OR MAYBE in his “perfect reality” he has an already decided script which he doesnt deviate from so he already knows what to say. Otherwise how would he know how vague or how exact to be about what he tells people

In the alt ending in the credits hes listed as screenplay director and the screenplay directors are the ones pulling the strings yeah but as another character in the story or “movie” that means he knows exactly what his part is too and is therefore another puppet to be controlled OU LET ME COOK 👩‍🍳🍔🔥

[raulsparza]

Let's talk about Ed's suicidality

This is gonna be long, but I wanted to see it all laid out. I think it's worthwhile to note his patterns. This is partially inspired by this post by @natjennie

Edward Teach is incredibly talented at reading the sky and predicting the weather. Remember in season 1 when he knew there would be fog rolling in around dusk because the clouds were sausage shaped that morning? And he is so certain in his skill that he can use it as a moment to play up the crew’s admiration of him. So, I think he knew way ahead of time that there would be a huge storm that he wanted to sail the ship into in s2e2.

I think there are a few different moments he may have put this together.

One possibility is when he went up on deck with Izzy and then shot him.

He would have had a great view of the sky here. The plan may have already started forming in his mind. Why else would he so flippantly discard his first mate? It’s documented that people who intend to kill themselves sometimes start getting rid of their possessions.

It really stands out to me in s1e4 when Ed first mentions that maybe he should try dying. He includes Izzy in this possibility.

we

Ed has another great view of the sky here, after telling Frenchie to clean up the mess from shooting Izzy. This is before his "rough night" when he plays with his dolls, has a good cry, and then continues discarding things that matter to him.

The next morning, Ed seems, by all accounts, to be doing much better! He’s tidying his room, he’s smiling, he’s chipper.

A sudden mood change, where the person seems happier and “better,” is also documented as a precursor to suicide. Ed has definitely decided he is going to try to die later that day. I think he had probably made his mind up the night before.

His expectations for the day change slightly when he learns Izzy is still alive. He hasn’t deviated from his intention to die but he’s willing to bring Izzy into it again.

He was going to try dying no matter what today, might as well let Izzy do it if Izzy wants to. He’s under no assumption that Izzy will live beyond this so why should he? And then they can try dying together.

He couldn’t be more set in his plan.

Then, once he believes Izzy is dead, he continues on with what he had imagined for his day.

The finality in this is astounding. He talks in past tense immediately because he was already prepared for that.

He tells Frenchie to take the day off to “go live” while he takes over steering for a while.

He then has his last dramatic stab at life as his final act. And I think there is a part of him that's hoping he doesn't actually die. He could have used a much quicker and definite method to attempt suicide but he doesn't and I think that's worth noting.

But, if it does work, then bully for him. It's much more aligned with how he had been imagining his death anyway. Remember when he thought he was going to go down with the ship in s1e4 before they devised the lighthouse fuckery?

By all accounts, the storm is cooler.

I do think Izzy reappearing brings a sliver of hope back to Ed, though.

After Izzy shoots the torch out of Ed's hand, Ed gets up to walk toward Izzy rather than going to pick the torch back up. And he looks astounded. We don't get to see this reunion play out further because Fang knocks Ed to the ground.

It’s important to remember that suicidality is incredibly complex. There’s no one reason or person that Ed has decided to kill himself and there’s no one reason or person that can save him. In s2e3 Ed was the one to take the ropes off and fight to keep swimming; even if Stede was a reason he thought of, once the ropes were off, for him to keep going, Stede is not saving him. Ed is saving himself.

Ed has a hard journey ahead of him, interpersonal relationships aside. He has a lot to work through with himself. But he's proven that he is willing to try.

And he does. And I'm excited to see him continue to choose it.

[natureboy96]

My journey through the Court of Thorns and Roses series

It’s been roughly a month since I started reading the ACOTAR series, and let me tell you, it’s been one mad ride. I’ve had a lot of thoughts on the books, and I needed to put them down somewhere to hopefully stop them from rattling around in my brain for much longer (success tbd). While I am writing this more for myself than anyone else, I wondered if anyone else went through a similar journey that I have, and perhaps help understand why people view the series as they do. I’ll be going book by book to break things down.

(Also might be worth mentioning that I am a gay man in my thirties, which definitely impacted how I read certain parts of the books..)

ACOTAR

Having come into the series with absolutely no hints as to what it was about (besides the back blurb), I actually found this first book… kinda boring? I was surprised, I suppose, to see it was a Beauty and the Beast retelling, but that actually made me look forward more to where things actually deviated from the script (I texted my sister it was around chapter 30 that I felt things really getting interesting).

That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy parts of it - the more intimate moments between Tamlin and Feyre were what I liked most, like them dancing together after he played, or him appreciating that painting that made him not feel alone, moments like those. A bit stilted writing, perhaps, but fine.

When we went Under the Mountain, though, that’s when my interest picked up. I felt the fear that Tamlin and Feyre felt, knowing one wrong move could be their last. I felt terribly icky at the things Feyre was manipulated to do; maybe I can see how people might think her dancing black out drunk in a napkin could be a sexy fantasy, but it definitely didn’t do it for me, nor the bone twisting. The trials themselves felt… underwhelming (the worm was some exciting action that our Feyre’s skills to use at least, but the second one was kinda meh), but I was interested in seeing a story where the main character actually experiences some lasting impact of trauma, something I feel a lot of books gloss over. Seeing what Feyre and Tamlin were willing to sacrifice for each other also helped solidify their relationship for me. I went into the second book excited to see how it was handled, and to see what kind of character Rhysand proved to be, after his UtM admissions and actions…

ACOMAF

I was into this text a lot quicker than the previous one, no doubt because of what I mentioned about seeing actual consequences for trauma. I didn’t expect to see so much of Tamlin’s trauma as I did, but I appreciated seeing even a high lord couldn’t walk away from something like what happened without damage. I definitely felt the tragedy of what happened to their relationship, seeing how trauma warped and changed the way they were to the point where they no longer fit, and I was glad Feyre was able to leave.

That brings us to what I thought was the best point, seeing Feyre get the space and patience and support she needed to heal, from Rhysand and the rest of the Inner Court. Like the first book, some parts felt a bit stilted to me, but seeing her gain back her confidence and work through the pain Amarantha had dealt was with satisfying. Having her find a group she came to care for and a place she felt safe was wonderful.

I couldn’t say I saw the end twists coming, and I was definitely shocked to see Tamlin siding with an evil king who wanted to bring back slavery; after what I knew of him in the first book, it felt to me like there had to be more going on, and I immediately started the next book after finishing this one in 3 days.

I was also quite interested in Elain and Nesta’s changes too, I hadn’t expected them to be big characters after the first book, but it makes sense to tie them together - and give some fun stuff to work with in the next book.

ACOWAR

Unlike the last book, I finished this one in two days :p

I enjoy a lot of politics and intrigue in my books, so I enjoyed hearing about a lot of the planning that went into preparing for the upcoming war. I enjoyed hearing Feyre’s thoughts and plans for the Spring Court, and I was glad Lucien was able to escape with her - I haven’t mentioned him much but I have enjoyed his character quite a bit. I loved getting to meet with the other high lords and see the Dawn Court, though I found it odd how easily everyone seemed to lose their temper at what was supposed to be a diplomatic meeting. I read Tamlin’s words as being sheer bitterness, but I was glad to hear he hadn’t betrayed everyone blindly and had a plan.

The end of the book was a bit of a shock twist page after page, and I couldn’t put it down. Dads coming out of nowhere with an army only to die a few pages later? Monsters joining the fight only to get murked? Elain pulling an Arya Stark stabbing on the big baddie? The only surprise I had been expecting was Akeem’s transformation; I felt the biblical angel clues were strong enough to expect an angel of death when she changed.

I didn’t like the fakeout Rhysand death. It felt like it was tacked on for a bit more milked drama, only to be undone moments later. What I did love was how the end of the story gave Tamlin the chance to save both Feyre and Rhysand, despite everything that they had done to each other. I had hoped it was the chance for them to start healing that rift, not expecting them to be friends or in love again, but respectful at least..

Also some questionable choices for sexy scenes, but again, I kinda didn’t read too much into em, not my thing.

ACOFAS

This is where something changed with my thoughts on the text. I thought it was a nice “Christmas” story, and I enjoyed seeing where and how people were preparing for it with each other. I felt for Nesta, and as hard as it was to see where she was I didn’t feel she was ready for healing from her trauma yet, and was interested to see where it went. Wasn’t as big a fan of people talking down to Lucien, but that wasn’t the real issue I had here…

Rhysand’s visits to Tamlin may have been brief, but they struck a really unpleasant note in an otherwise nice little story. I had come to see Rhysand as a good person over the books, over what he had said and did. I couldn’t like that up, though, with the way he treated Tamlin in this book. I didn’t expect them to be friends, or even like each other, but I couldn’t understand how Rhysand could be so cruel to a person who had saved not only his life (even though I could have easily seen him not doing so), but Feyre’s, Elaine’s and Azriel’s lives too, and in doing so played a crucial part in saving the whole world. How could someone see this person who is clearly broken and so alone, and beat him down further? And then to come back and see what state he was in, and essentially suicide bait him while making him a steak? It was such a harsh and cruel thing to do that it took me right out of the text, and I took some time with that thought in my head.

AFTER READING

I had been planning to jump into Silver Flames right away, but the sour taste of how Tamlin was treated in the last book was really bothering me, and I needed to share my thoughts with someone. None of my friends had read the books, so I turned online to see what people thought, and… I have to admit, I was shocked at the level of sheer vitriol directed in Tamlin’s direction. If this was after the second book, I could see some of it, but undoubtedly most people who were sharing their dislike of his character had read all the books, even past what I read. It didn’t make sense to me, that someone we knew was a kind and good person in the first book, who was warped by trauma and bitterness in the second but helped save our main characters in the third, only to be kicked while he was down, was so incredibly hated? The more I read, the more confused and honestly frustrated I started feeling. It was as if there was nothing good in his character, who quite objectively did quite a few good things!

Until I had read ACOFAS, I had taken everything as it had been delivered to me, through Feyre’s thoughts and words. Hell, I was so into it after the second book I went and bought the coloring pages and some very expensive pens! After, though, I began rereading parts of the texts in a more critical lens, trying to somehow connect the cruelty I’d read and felt with people’s words online, with what I thought was the point of the text, of healing through trauma, and how I has liked the various characters.

It was around then that I found I wasn’t the only one who had similar thoughts and feelings towards Tamlin’s character and how he was treated in the narrative, and the fandom. I noticed some things I had missed before, where Feyre’s perspective of Tamlin had shifted to make his character from the first book worse in the second and third. Not even inconsistencies in terms of character traits changing, but points where events in the first book were quite blatantly retconned in a different view entirely, and then for people to ignore the former for the latter because it made Tamlin worse. The more that I started looking, the more issues I started picking up, issues of characters being held to different standards by both the character in text, and the people reading them.

Now, a month out from reading the books, I think it’s become very clear that the author intended for people to strongly dislike Tamlin’s character, and for a lot of people, the author’s intention is enough to accept that view. When it comes to writing, though, an author’s intention ends with the words they put down, adding clarifying statements afterwards can help show their intention, but the intent is the same. Readers, then, are free to interpret a text how they will; not everyone is going to get the same experience from a story as everyone else, because people are individuals with their own outlooks on the world they bring to a text. Just because one agrees with the author’s intention with a text doesn’t make other’s differing interpretations less valid. People don’t have to like Tamlin’s character for all the reasons the author tells you, but that doesn’t make criticism of the view wrong, or bad. People who criticize the author’s choices and the actions of characters in a text are as valid as the author’s choice to write them in the first place. I’ve come away from this feeling Tamlin’s character has been “done dirty”, whether the author intended for me to have that opinion (she clearly didn’t). That doesn’t make my viewpoint less valid, just different, and based in the same text other interpretations come from.

In the end, I’ve come down from the obsessed high I had with the series, and I’ve settled on having very mixed feelings overall. Once my interpretation of the earlier texts had changed, it kinda rusted some of the luster the books had had in my mind and added a more critical, negative undercurrent to things I had seen as entirely good before. For me, that actually makes them more interesting, and I like the idea of talking about and debating points of a text and how they can be interpreted. I don’t know if I could recommend the series to other people, though, what with the feelings I’ve had towards the actual texts and the fandom around them. I will probably be invested still for a time longer, though - whether I read Silver Flames (the takes I’ve seen online are veeery mixed, but perhaps my take would be different than what I’ve seen) or the next book afterwards, it’s been a real and novel experience diving headfirst into it all.

[danibee33]

So… I’ve had thoughts about König- specifically to do with THIS video. (and this is going to deviate so hard from any sort of canon, but also.. who cares 😌)

BUT, hear me out. The König twins. (König is a common surname, so in this instance it’s not a callsign)

The König twins, Erich and Andreas. Chance bound them together as brothers- but fate bound them forever by the covenant of the blood they spilled and the water of the womb they shared.

The König twins who enlisted together, knowing they were.. different. Not just because of their stature- sure, standing 203cm tall would call attention to anyone. But it wasn’t that, it wasn’t their muscular builds, or their reserved demeanor, nor the eerie calm they brandished on the battlefield. It went so much deeper. Something intrinsic, something dark.

The König twins, whose rise through the military ranks was something to behold. They were ruthless, constantly challenging each other to go further, fight harder, aim sharper, shoot quicker- to complete every mission with terrifying efficiency.

The König twins, who were ultimately dishonorably discharged together when higher command had tried to separate them.

The König twins who had very nearly killed the person while dared tried to tear them apart.

The König twins who knew they had no marketable skills in the civilian world. So, they went on to become mercenaries- turning somehow even more relentless and brutal than they were before.

It was their laughter that you heard over the radio for the first time. That was your introduction to the most feared operators in KorTac.

Sure, you heard all the rumors. Heard that they weren’t really men at all under their hoods. Heard that they were monsters who got off on killing, that nothing else would do it for them. That’s why they chose their profession, because it wasn’t just a job. It was pleasure.

You never intended to meet them. You were nobody, nothing in the grand scheme of things. A glorified paper pusher thanks to a family connection- you were just the peon that spent their entire 8 hours every day listening to recordings from body camera footage and radio. All your job required you to do was transcribe everything you heard, and turn it over to someone who would undoubtedly redact 98% of your work anyway.

You were nobody.

Until you somehow managed to catch the König twins’ eye.

Erich was the first to approach you, and to say that everything you had heard and imagined up to that point felt like a massive understatement would be putting it lightly.

He was gargantuan. Bigger than that, even- you swore. His eyes were bright, watching you behind the hood with a look you can only akin to hunger.

And maybe you vaguely remember sputtering an apology, what you were apologizing for- you couldn’t say. Just existing in his presence, making eye contact? Fuck if you knew. The only thing you knew to be fact, was that you wanted to get away. To put distance between you and him.

But you didn’t do that, did you?

The König twins, who share everything.

And when Erich told his brother about you.. well, you were as good as theirs.

[aetherose]

Layla's Transcendence

Punishing: Gray Raven Chapter 12 spoilers

Pain.

Unending, searing pain that overwhelmed her sensors, but for fear of suffering M.I.N.D. deviation and falling to the Virus sooner, she did not dare turn off her pain receptors.

Is this what all Corrupted go through in the process of losing themselves to the Virus? Or was it her persistence to live what made it all the worse for her? Or perhaps, this was just the result of her wounds.

It wasn't the first time she'd experienced infection from the Punishing Virus. As a human, it was the reason she had been dying, and had to be taken by Babylonia to become a Construct to save her life. Yet, that felt tame in comparison to now.

Likely because she was becoming Corrupted, and she knew it. That's why she had fled to the edge of Kowloong now. She was afraid of the possibility of becoming a Corrupted, but she was even more terrified of hurting her friends. Liv, Lee, the Commandant...Lucia, if she still lives.

(No, she has to survive. She has to. She will. Right...?)

How ridiculous is that? She wants to protect her friends from herself, but she doesn't dare step near any of the other squads to beg them to end her life. Because she's scared of death. But becoming a Corrupted is a worse fate than death, isn't it?

Yet, here she was, inching her way forward through sheer will to survive, even knowing her time was limited.

It's so stupid. She's always been stupid, though. She's a foolish girl who's killed, maimed, stolen, and more to survive, in spite of knowing how little right she really has.

And now because she's afraid of death, she is trying to fight off Corruption rather than ask for a quicker, much better end to her misery that'd guarantee she'd hurt no one.

Death is a fate she deserves, she knows it, yet she runs from it. Perhaps becoming a Corrupted is a more fitting end, all things considered, however.

It doesn't matter now. She's so far from the main scene of the ongoing fight in Kowloong she doubts there's a soul around now to end her even if she wanted it. And she's not sure she has enough time left to inch her way back to find someone.

Her fate is sealed, but she still persists.

She keeps limping forward. It's a wonder she can even walk, frankly, even if just barely in her current state. Her legs suffered the most when she found herself assaulted by Corrupted. Clawing all over her, leaving her now with faint electric sparks occasionally flickering from the now-visible machinery beneath the synthetic skin due to her wounds.

But her whole body is a wreck, not just her legs. Crimson vital fluid covers her all over, leaking from her wounds and seeping into her clothes, and she leaves a faint trail of vital fluid in her wake. Her sword was missing half its blade now, but she still clung to it for dear life. She knows if anything attacked her right now, she'd likely stand no chance, and yet here she was, gripping onto it.

It was the sword she'd been using for years now. A sword she'd taken so many lives with. Corrupted, humans, Mechanoids, and Constructs alike. None were spared, all were executed by Babylonia's orders, or were felled for her own survival.

The utter guilt she'd felt for it had threatened to drown her on numerous occasions. And in her dying state, it slithered back from where it always lingered in the back of her mind to the forefront.

Guilt. They say that's the emotion one must have if one wishes to redeem themself for their sins. But with how many sins she carries with her every second of every hour of every day of her now eternal life as a Construct, can you say she is redeemable?

Every life was an individual. No matter how many times she says she's sorry and no matter why she took that life, she still took it. It doesn't matter if she had to for survival, or under orders, or for war, or whatever else. She took so many lives, and ruined many others.

She is not the only one who suffers in this world. So many others suffer like her. She's seen it with her own eyes so many times. She is just another soul crushed under the ever-turning wheel that continues beyond her to crush thousands more as the apocalypse rages on.

('Isn't it detestable? The way that humans brought this onto themselves, and continue to hurt their own kind because of it?')

Layla freezes as she hears that voice in her M.I.N.D. She at first looks around her, to try to find a person nearby who spoke, but she knows, in truth, there is no one at all nearby on the edge of this ancient, deserted city.

Is she hearing things now? Is this also what Corrupted go through?

('No, only a handful even get to hear this voice.') It states simply, seemingly a little amused at her confusion. ('Your will to persist is admirable, you see. But you cling to things as pointless as compassion. You find a way to feel sympathy for so many around you, and then beat yourself up about what you have to do to live.')

'Because they've suffered just like I have. Because they don't deserve what I do to them. I'm...an awful person.' She answers within her M.I.N.D. to the voice, and it seems to click its tongue.

('Oh, how very cute. But you know deep down they don't deserve it. Humans aren't beings to sympathize with. They're the ones who put you into this position in the first place out of their own senseless hatred. Don't you remember your mother?')

Layla's mother...she remembers her very well. Complicated emotions fill Layla as she finds herself leaning against a nearby wall, as memories filled her M.I.N.D.

('Don't you remember how much you tried to earn her love? The way she always looked at you, a small child, with contempt every time? All because of reasons you couldn't, and still don't fully understand. And not even just her, but your whole family looked at you the same way.')

She remembers it like it was yesterday. Each day before she was 11 years old, she would always go up to her mother and try to talk to her through pen and paper, ever since she learned to write. Each time, her mother would only briefly glance at it, before telling her to leave her alone. Sometimes she hit her if Layla persisted further.

Layla's relatives only humored her presence to ask her to do things for them, before shooing her away. Or worse, they too looked at her with hatred and refused to let her near them.

Even her younger cousins avoided her because of their parents' warnings. She held onto hope for so long, in spite of how painful it was. How lonely it was.

But in the end, she soon snapped, and burned her estate and family to the ground when she was 11, out of a childish wish for the pain to just end.

('Do you regret it?') The voice asked as the memory came to mind, and she hesitates to answer. The voice speaks before she can think of any response.

('Don't regret it. They deserved it, Layla. They deserved it. Humans are all the same. All because they thought you a defective child, they never gave you love or kindness, and used you for their own ends. You should hate them.') Yet why doesn't she? Why doesn't she fully hate them?

...That's right. Because some part of her still wonders if there's something truly that twisted and ugly in her, that made them not love her. Maybe she was defective in a way she couldn't understand.

('You aren't. No, perhaps the defective ones are in fact humans themselves. Think about it. Look back on all your memories after that fire you caused. How many times have you had to suck up to those with power to live? How many other times have you begged for food or shelter and been denied? How many times have you had to fight off those who tried to steal your supplies? How many times have you been used and been betrayed by those who did accept your request for help?')

Layla grits her teeth at the voice's words. 'But I was just as bad.'

('They were the ones who hurt you first.')

'But that doesn't make me any better.'

('You just wanted to survive.')

'So did they.'

('But how can you be sure they were truly people just as hurt by the world as you are? And even then...why should you care? Humans only worsen this world. They are a pestilence. They hurt you. They've hurt each other. All for power, or even pettiness, spite...and you know they treat Constructs even worse. Former humans who became machines to help save the world, treated as nothing more than tools...like yourself. And even they are not all pure-hearted, for they came from humans, even if they are now machines.') Layla goes silent, and the voice merely continues on.

('You could change this world, if only you accept the truth, and discard that compassion of yours. You could make a world that would accept you, you who they used, betrayed, and threw out like trash. Embrace your hatred, and turn it into the strength to destroy and remake this world.')

For a moment, for just a small moment, Layla thinks about it. Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful, to embrace her anger and hate, to destroy and remake this world that hurt her so badly? To make a world that'd accept her, a better world for everyone, without the lying, hypocritical humans that only hurt this world worse within it?

It'd be so easy to let go. It'd be so, so easy, to take that step and let herself fall into the depths of enmity. Some part of her wants to. The hurt, resentful child that burned down her home and family in her perhaps would accept it. That child remains in her heart, and now wants her to accept this voice's offer.

But then, more memories comes to her M.I.N.D.

Several years ago, when Layla was still in training after becoming a Construct, she'd already become an outcast amongst Babylonia. She struggled to speak in spite of now having a functioning voice module (even now she struggles, and prefers sign language and handwriting). She was the weird mute girl; an easy target for harassment.

Other Construct trainees would take advantage of the fact she struggled to talk back and ganged up, saying cruel words, one day, escalated to become physical, because no one was looking, and she couldn't cry out for help.

Layla had cowered in the corner and braced herself for what was about to come, but instead, heard the sounds of her tormentors themselves crying out in pain. And before she knew it, they were all on the ground, groaning and moaning in agony.

A woman with red eyes and black hair stood over them, gaze piercing as the Constructs looked up at her. They soon fled, and the woman reached out her hand and helped Layla up, confirmed she was alright, and then simply walked off.

It was the first time anyone had bothered to help Layla, without asking anything in return. Let alone, Layla quickly realized the one who helped her was Lucia, the Captain of Gray Raven, an elite squad highly admired by many. Why would someone like that help Layla and then ask for nothing in return? Layla went up to ask her later, and all she had to say on the matter was simply...

"What would I need from you?"

It left Layla dumbfounded. Lucia even knew her name beforehand, and before either of them knew it, they ended up becoming fast friends. Best friends, in fact. And for Layla, Lucia was her very first friend. Layla would later be assigned to Purifying Force, and became one of Nikola's personal practical attack dogs, but despite her displeasure at her position, how she resented Babylonia, she found Lucia made it all so much more bearable.

And then Gray Raven was wiped out, and Lucia Recalled, sustaining memory loss in the process. And for a time, Layla was bereaved. Because she knew the Lucia in front of her...wasn't just Lucia with memory loss.

No, she had a feeling...she was a whole other Lucia in the first place. Not like she could confirm anything; Babylonia made it difficult even for Purifying Force to get their hands on such classified files.

Regardless, Layla still mourned the Lucia she lost, whether it was a whole other one, or the old self of the current one. But then she was moved to the new Gray Raven, and found herself growing close to Lucia again.

And then this battle in Kowloong began, and it turned out Layla was right, and that...Alpha of the Ascendants was the original Lucia. But how? Why would she become this? She was so...different now, and she hated the other Lucia so much too, for being a clone.

But...she was still Lucia, too.

Both of them were. Both of them were kind to her. And in Babylonia, thanks to them, she started to open herself more to others. She made several friends. She can't simply ignore the good people she's met. She resents this world, and a level of misanthropy still exists in her.

But she cannot simply accept this voice's proposal, that asked her to embrace a hatred of all humans, of this whole world, and tear it all down to remake it anew, when this world wasn't black and white in such a way. There was bad...a lot of bad...but then, there was also...so much good.

Like Lucia. Like Alpha. Like Liv. Like Lee. Like Commandant.

She found her knees were about to give out as she came to this conclusion, and the pain she'd started growing able to ignore seemed to suddenly increase now, but she still persisted, as she responded to the voice in her M.I.N.D.

'...I will have to reject your offer. This world...is a flawed place, yes. But...I can't just ignore how many good people I've met here.'

The voice seemed slightly taken aback by her answer...and then started to become hostile. ('If you don't accept my offer, you will cease to be yourself, and become a Corrupted.')

'...But if I accept your offer, I will have to tear asunder this whole world. You...just want to make me a puppet of destruction. You just want to use me...like all the others, don't you?'

('No, I'm offering you the chance to make a world where no one is used again. I'm offering you power. To save your life.')

'...I know manipulation when I hear it. I can't believe I almost accepted your offer...'

('You'll regret this choice as you lose all sense of who you are and become a mindless monster.')

'...I'd rather that than to become a real monster. Real monsters aren't the mindless ones...it's the ones who have minds and still do what they do with no remorse, no restraint, without necessity...'

The voice doesn't respond. Layla is alone within her own M.I.N.D. again. She finds her knees at last give out, and she collapses onto the ground, broken sword falling from her hand as warnings fill her ears.

The Punishing Virus Corruption she's suffering is at critical levels. Soon, she won't be herself anymore. It's a practical miracle she's survived this long through sheer force of will.

Countless thoughts race through her mind. Some part of her does regret rejecting the voice's offer. But at the same time, another part of her doesn't.

Maybe it's arrogance leading her to think she has even a chance of success at this, but she won't just give up and accept her fate. No...she can't die here. Lucia...Alpha...she wants to reunite with them both. She wants to make sure Lucia is alright. And she wants to understand why Alpha became this way.

Layla begins to crawl forward without any thought. Where is she going? She's not sure. No, she's not really trying to reach any destination. Even as her body screams at her in pain, she does this anyways, as an act of defiance against her fate.

She won't turn into a Corrupted. She will survive. She crawls, and crawls, and crawls. She doesn't make it very far with each little push forward. But she keeps crawling.

Warning sounds blare even more at the immensity of the Viral Corruption she's facing, but she pays it no mind. She simply keeps crawling.

She won't die.

She won't become a Corrupted.

She'll see Lucia again.

She'll see Alpha again.

She'll see Liv again.

She'll see Lee again.

She'll see the Commandant again.

She'll live.

By god, she'll live.

And everything goes dark.

"...Layla?"

A familiar voice calls out.

"...Lu...cia?"

No...was that Lucia? Or was it...

She doesn't get the time to finish that thought.

Her body completely shuts down.

Later, in Babylonia...

"We can't find any trace of her. I'm sorry. At this point, it's safe to assume...she's probably dead." Celica hands the sword with a half broken blade to Lucia, the rest of Gray Raven behind her with grieved expressions, all whilst marking down on a casualty report...

'Layla Ceridwen - MIA, assumed KIA in the Battle of Kowloong.'

Afterward, in the Ascendants' base...

"...by all accounts, she shouldn't be alive. But she still lives, by the skin of her teeth...she isn't connected to the Ascension Network either...but she's still..."

A soft voice fills her ears, though it's hard to hear. But she makes out those words, in spite of how awful she feels. She can't move, at first. But after a few moments, she slowly can sit up, prompting the soft voice to gasp.

"...Sis, come and see. She's awake at last."

When she opens her eyes, she sees a dreamlike girl, who appeared just like a dazzling white light...

And a woman in red beside her, rugged and enigmatic looking.

"...Alpha?"

[dk-wren]

Thanks for answering my ask @dk-wren, can I ask again but this time for Loid/Yor?

What do you think are Loid and Yor’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic?

Hello Anon!

Of course! And thank you for the new ask!

(Note: I am so so sorry that I could not respond to your ask sooner. School has been crazy, so I barely had any time to write for non-school related projects. I feel so bad that I could not get to this quicker, but I hope you may still enjoy my response.)

Now, I would like to be upfront and say that my familiarity with Loid/Yor's relationship and all of Spy x Family is a little spotty. I am caught up on the anime and read the first several chapters of the manga. However, I only started consistently reading the manga about a year ago, towards the middle of the Red Circus arc. I generally know what happens between where S2 ended and I picked up the manga (i.e. Yor meets Melinda, Lady Tonitrus, etc.), but I apologize if in my explanation I missed an important moment that happens during that period or contradict something.

That said, I think Loid's greatest personality strength is his ability to fully commit to something. When I racked my brain for what Loid (and also Twilight) moments stood out to me, his line, “Let’s go home” from the first chapter, the castle party, his attempt to have fun during the Cruise Arc, creating a full (educational) episode of Bondman for Anya, and taking Anya on a ski trip are some moments that came to mind. Am I cherry-picking these examples? Yes, but I think each still illustrates how Loid cannot do anything with less than 100% effort.

Now, could you argue this personality trait of fully committing to something can be negative in some situations? For sure. But the way I see this trait present itself within Loid, it comes out of his desire to provide the best he can for his family. And while it was for his mission/cover towards the beginning of Spy x Family, and still sometimes the case, I think there’s been a shift where Loid's motivation for doing all that he can to provide Yor and Anya good/memorable experiences now comes from knowing Anya’s history in the orphanage and in Yor opening up to Loid about her past. 

I don’t know if Loid’s training or general nature are responsible for this trait, but I do believe Loid’s ability to fully commit to something is his greatest strength since it sort of acts as Loid’s way to show how much he cares for (perhaps, even loves) the recipients. 

In terms of Loid's greatest weakness, I think it is his stubbornness. Loid/Twilight knows he is Westalis' greatest spy. And whether self-imposed or from his colleagues' expectations (or perhaps even a little bit of both), he understands his performance during any mission should be of the highest caliber. In trying to maintain this level of proficiency on his missions, I feel Loid/Twilight can easily get into his own head about how things are supposed to go and needing to stick to a plan. 

Especially in the first few chapters/episodes, we see Loid clearly thrown off and flustered by some of Anya and Yor’s actions. When working solo, it is very easy for Loid to be in control over every aspect of a mission. Things can go exactly as planned for Loid, avoiding the need to deviate from his meticulous planning, even if he needs to switch to plan B, C, D, or E (probably more tbh). That is not the case though with Anya and Yor because of their own secret identities and human nature. These two bring in factors or variables that Twilight would not have to typically consider on his missions since they bring their own experiences/perspectives that do not align with Twilight’s view of “normal” or expected.

I know Loid saying “For the mission” is a running joke. But I believe Loid’s stubbornness plays a factor into this. Not necessarily in a bad sense, but Loid can get stuck in his ways and find explanations to justify his actions that do not align with those set ones. His stubbornness prevents Loid from admitting that he loves and cares for Anya and Yor because he is a spy, who should not have any attachments nor the expectation to settle down. He has changed from the first chapter to now. I apologize for not remembering the exact post, but when Loid returns home to Yor and immediately collapses at the end of the Mole Hunt arc, I saw someone beautifully explain how Loid’s reaction is due to his body telling him “He is safe. He is home. He is where his loved ones are,” even if his mind cannot process those feelings. 

In reading the chapters about Loid’s past, I would argue Loid also potentially deals with his own guilt about not deserving the love of others after what happened to his parents. That is a hard mindset to break, which I think his occupation doesn’t help in that healing process either. Therefore, between Loid’s own past and being a spy, I think Loid’s greatest weakness is his stubbornness, especially in his inability to process things (namely love) as anything but a means to an end, rather than the end itself.

As for Yor, I think her greatest personality strength is her kindness and faith in others. I feel Yor has so much love to give to the people she keeps close to her heart. But due to her past, she didn't have a chance to shower it on anyone besides Yuri. The cooking lessons she took with Camilla to literally running to pick up Anya after the bus hijacking, Yor’s family and their happiness/safety remains her utmost priority in providing. 

I truly believe Yor sees the best in people and wants to uplift that, whether that be celebrating how well Anya did on a test or telling Loid that he’s a good father. I don’t think it’s naivety but rather kindness that Yor embraces the world with. Similar to Loid/Twilight, Yor is trying to create a better tomorrow in her own way. However, one key difference I would say is that Yor sees herself as a part of that tomorrow. Such as in the Cruise arc, Yor recognizes the danger of profession and the fact she may not live to see the next day. But from what I’ve seen, Yor sees herself as working towards that better tomorrow so she can enjoy it with those she loves.

I think Yor’s greatest personality strength is her kindness and faith in others because she sees the best in those around her and wants to bring that out, or encourage people to embrace the good in them.

Regarding Yor’s greatest personality weakness, I think it's her social inexperience. I hesitate to call it a weakness since I think it’s more of a hindrance (and very much due to her upbringing). There are countless examples of Yor responding to someone’s question in a way that shows her misunderstanding of what the original question means (taking things too literally or giving a response appropriate for her assassin job but not in everyday life for example). It could easily paint her as awkward or clueless, but I think it just tells us about the environment she grew up in or is most familiar with.

When in her element, Yor embodies confidence and power. However, more often than not, that’s when she’s Thorn Princess rather than Yor Forger. Being the sole provider for Yuri for a good portion of her childhood and teen years, and also the nature of her profession, Yor is expected to complete things with utter perfection. She received training from the Garden, so that’s likely why she can perform with that confidence and grace as Thorn Princess. In not receiving that same level of “training” or exposure to everyday social situations, I think this causes Yor to second guess herself or fall susceptible to teasing in the workplace. 

Again, while I hesitate to consider it a weakness, I believe Yor’s social inexperience can sometimes hurt her more than help her. This is not a dig at Loid/Twilight, but I admire how Yor recognizes this “weakness” of how her knowledge may fall short in certain social scenarios. And to then take that time to learn about “normal” activities or experience something she was not able to during her childhood (as I mentioned above, cooking with Camilla comes to mind, but also befriending Melinda Desmond and spending time with the Women's Society), I think Yor openly embraces these opportunities in the hopes of learning from them and to increase her own happiness/enjoyment or those close to her.

Finally, for the last question, what do I love about Loid and Yor’s dynamic, I’d have to say I love how they uplift each other and acknowledge where the other can provide something they cannot (whether that’s with Anya’s care or household chores). Yor telling Loid he’s a great father to Anya and expressing her wish to help more around their household (to take some stress off of Loid); Loid telling Yor how her strength is an invaluable comfort to Anya, as well as affirming how her past makes her the perfect mother for Anya, and the way his body/subconscious mind acknowledges Yor as someone he feels safe around. At least to me, these examples alone show how much they respect their partner and understand that they can depend on the other. I'm sorry if I keep repeating myself, but seriously, to be able to trust and verbalize that they need help is such a step forward in moving past the behaviors they learned/developed during their childhoods.

While not tied exclusively to Loid and Yor’s relationship, but their family relationship, I also love how they somewhat represent different parenting styles. Loid is the more strict and demanding parent, though from what I recall, he rarely verbalizes his high expectations out loud (not that it always matters when Anya can read his thoughts). He expects Anya to do well and pass her classes, as well as avoid earning another Tonitrus bolt. Even then though, he phrases his words/expectations generally rather than telling her she must get this percent or higher. With Yor, she’s the more comforting and encouraging parent. She wants to see Anya succeed in school, but at the same time, Yor also prioritizes Anya’s well-being and happiness. I love how Loid and Yor’s parenting styles align with their personalities, and potentially the direct results of their childhoods. However, I love how at the end of the day, despite their varying approaches, Loid and Yor are both motivated by their desire to give Anya a happy childhood.

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Thank you again for the ask and your patience, Anon!

I had a lot of fun diving into the individual arcs of Loid and Yor (so far), as well as their relationship. I genuinely love these two so much and how slow burn this slow burn is. It really provides them the opportunity to develop as individuals and see how their interactions can or do affect the other.

-Dakota Wren

[thefundiedata]

How does this blog work?

Good question sent in, and one that I haven't tried to answer in a long time so I apologise if this doesn't make total sense. I'll go through the different data sets I use.

Family Specific Data I use specific family data for the Bates, Duggar and Rodrigues families to predict the start date of relationships and the length of new relationships. I take the average and the Standard Deviations for the start of courtships in each family and use that to predict when younger family members may start a relationship. I also average previous relationship lengths to predict when engagements and weddings will happen for new couples. For instance, the average Bates daughter starts a courtship at 20.79 years but the average Duggar daughter starts a courtship at 22.29 years. The first set will apply to Addee Bates, the second set to Hannie Duggar.

Maternal Multiplier This is probably my biggest data set as it includes previous generations and other fundie families I used to casually follow but no longer really look into.

It includes all the births I have ever tracked. Births are categorised by the age of the mother at the time of the birth. The categories are Under 25, 25-29, 30-34, 35-39, 40-44 and 45+. I take the average of each age group to create a maternal multiplier, IE: how many times larger is the average for each group compared to the Under 25 category. For instance, the average Under 25 spacing is 532 days while the average 25-29 spacing is 628 days. This is roughly 1.179x the length of the Under 25 spacings.

First births after marriage don't qualify for this as they are statistically much quicker than all other births.

Post-Loss Spacing Quite simply, the mean average of all post-loss spacings on the spreadsheet, plus the Standard Deviation of the set. The average currently stands at 426 days and the Standard Deviation at 156 days. This makes it likely a post-loss birth will occur by 582 days after loss. Post-loss spacings aren't included in the maternal multiplier, second child multiplier etc. though loss data is if the couple announce when the lost pregnancy was due.

Second Child Multiplier As I said earlier, first children come much quicker than others in fundie families (and probably in a lot of families if my friendship group are anything to go by?) so are not much use in predicting when a second child will come. Instead, I have all the Bates, Duggar and Rodrigues couples in the spreadsheet to compare when their first and second children arrived. A multiplier is then created by dividing the second child spacing and the first child spacing. I then average all these different multipliers for the overall second child multiplier.

Currently, the quickest second child multiplier is Nurie Rodrigues at 0.91 (her second child spacing was quicker than her first) and the longest is Carlin Stewart at 3.13 (her second child came more than 3 times slower than her first).

The mean multiplier is 1.74. That means when a couple has only one child, their first child spacing is multiplied by 1.74 to predict their second child spacing.

Example: Tiffany Bates has had one child, but they are post-loss. Her loss data is used instead. Her estimated spacing for that first pregnancy was 738 days after marriage. To calculate her second child spacing, the following is used: 738 x 1.74 = 1,284 days. I would usually also apply the maternal multiplier to this... but this spacing is so large, I'm not following my own rules!

Third Child Onwards From the third child onwards, I take the mean of all used spacings (second child onwards, not post-loss) and multiply by the applicable maternal multiplier.

Example: The mean of all Erin Paine's applicable spacings is 618 days. This multiplied by 1.291 (the 30-34 maternal multiplier) is 783 days - so this is her predicted spacing for Baby 7.