#or anyone can feel free to add their own ideas of course

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Mr. Rogers’ office. This is Rosie, how can I hel--” 

“Where is he?” Peggy’s voice cuts over your own. 

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s currently in a meeting--” 

“Get him.” 

“Mrs.--” 

“Don’t argue with me. Go get him. Are you not his assistant?” She challenges brusquely. 

Her accent adds to the sharpness of her words. Her curt demeanour is a stark contrast to her husband. Your boss is always amiable, accommodating even, but the few times you’ve dealt with his wife have been similarly tense. You put a smile on so she can’t hear your anxiety. 

“Of course, Mrs. Rogers,” you preen, “I’ll put you on a quick hold.” 

“No, you will get him. No hold.” 

You suck in a sigh and hold your breath in your chest, “of course.” 

You set the phone down. You don’t see how her hearing your desktop will be any better but you wouldn’t want to irritate her further. It must be urgent. 

You stand and smooth out your dress. You step out from behind your desk, digging your nails into your palms as you ball your fists tight. You get nervous about most things. Answering the phone took your months to get used to and even now you tend to fumble over your words. 

You go to the door and brace yourself. You don’t know why you expect Mr. Rogers to be upset. He’s never been anything close to rude. Maybe short in times of stress but not unpleasant. You knock and wait as you twiddle your fingers against your striped pleats. 

It isn’t Mr. Rogers who answers by Mr. Barnes. You give a sheepish smile, “excuse me, doll.” 

He steps past you and you bid him a good day. He leaves without further courtesy and Mr. Rogers calls your name from within, “need something?” He asks. 

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Rogers is on the phone.” 

He doesn’t seem happy about that. His cheek dimples and he nods, wiggling his pen at you, “patch her through.” 

You go back to your desk and pick up the receiver, “hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s available now--” 

“I don’t want to talk to you, honey. Where is my husband?” 

You transfer her without another word. Phew. You almost feel bad for your boss as you hear him pick up in his office. His tone is low and dull. 

You try not to overhear, letting his conversation drone into a buzz. There’s enough work to be done without worrying about his personal life. Your own afterhours concerns are more than concerning. You wouldn’t say you have much going on and that’s the problem. It’s moment like those that ease your envy of others’ full plates. 

You haven’t seen the girls lately. The group chat’s been quiet but you suppose you could go ahead and say hi. Your weekly cocktails petered out to biweekly, then monthly, and now you can’t remember the last time you let go with a mimosa. 

You peek over your desk and back at your screen. It’s not only on them to keep things going. You pick up your phone and open the chat. The last message is a meme Elfie sent about printers. You shake your head and send a little waving sticker, keying in a message. 

‘Long time no see! I’m in need of drinks. Anyone free? When’s best? Hope you’re all taking care.’ 

You’re professional tone shines through even on WhatsApp. It’s a bit lame but you’re an entirely different person in text. Most people are surprised to meet the mousy secretary hiding behind her screen after the lively back and forth in Outlook. 

You set your phone down and try not to stare at it. A reply never comes while you’re waiting for it, nor does water boil when you’re watching it. As you click around and try to remember where you were, the silence sinks in. Your realisation brings your eyes up as quickly as Mr. Rogers shadow. 

You bat your lashes at him in surprise, “need something, sir?” 

He gives a half-smile, the type weighed down by disappointment. He sighs and crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame, “you hungry?” 

“Um, well, it’s only eleven,” you shrug. 

“Mm, yeah,” he unfolds one arm to rub his neck, “I’m restless. You feel like getting lunch early?” 

“Sure, I can run out and grab you something,” you stand eagerly. 

“No, uh,” he drops his arm back over his other, “together. I had a reservation for me and Peggy but she canceled. I’d hate to inconvenience the restaurant and I just can’t sit and mope in my office.” 

“Oh, okay, I guess that works...” 

“Do you need to ask your boss?” He scoffs. 

You laugh at his joke, “do I?” 

He smiles, a real smile and drops his arms, “my treat. You know what, you earned it. You work so hard around here, a little employee appreciation is overdue.” 

“That’s so nice,” you chime, “uh, sir, I... I should leave an away message, should I?” 

“Oh, who cares, come on.” 

“Well, I mean...” 

“Ah, I get it, boss is a real hard ass,” he winks. 

“Sir,” you giggle nervously and teethe your lip. He watches your mouth. 

“You can catch up later. Come on, I haven’t played hooky in years.” 

“Hooky?” You stammer. 

He laughs, “a goody two shoes. It’s why I hired you but it’s okay to let loose once in a while.” 

“I know, Mr. Rogers, it’s just... it’s work.” 

“Too much of it and you’ll turn into me,” he huffs. “Please, I’m sure your husband would hate if you were never home. Never answered the phone.” 

“If I had one, probably,” you blurt out then look away shyly. 

“Really? I thought...” he begins and shakes his head, “doesn’t matter. I’ll grab my jacket and we’ll go. I missed breakfast.” 

“Um, sure, sir,” you agree and put your hand on the phone. 

When he turns, you look down. Missie sent a reply; ‘please, drinks are required!’ Ooh! Yay. 

[noxturnals-void]

Slashers with an s/o that has scars

Characters include:

Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Michael Myers, Jesse Cromeans, Asa Emory

———————————————————————————

Tw: scars, mentions of abuse, mentions of self-harm, toxic relationships, mentions of death/murder, characters being their questionable selves

(The scars are a mix of self-harm and abuse)

This is just a big mix of comfort imagines.

Feel free to add your own thoughts/ideas.

———————————————————————————

Jason Voorhees:

He’s confused when he first sees the marks on your arms and legs. Were you in an accident of some kind? You’d never mentioned anything of the sort before.

He won’t bring it up until he sees more across your shoulders and back.

It takes a long, very awkward conversation on your part to explain when he expresses worry toward the marks on your body.

He understands what abuse is, but mainly in the form of bullying. Having to explain abuse at the hands of people you trusted was much different in his mind.

He’s absolutely heartbroken. How could anyone have hurt you like this?

He will bury the anger he has toward the people who hurt you, very gently pulling you into a hug and squeezing you to his chest.

That’s all in the past now. He’s here. He would never, ever let anything like that happen to you again.

Thomas Hewitt:

Oh, he knows.

He could tell the moment he laid eyes on you that you were just like him. Hiding your arms away and recoiling from anyone who got too close.

He tries not to make a big deal of it. They look old, so he won’t mention it.

That is, until he catches you changing one day. He sees the collection of deep marks across your back. He’s not stupid, he knows you didn’t do those yourself.

This time, he does bring it up. He’s not judgemental. He understands, probably better than anyone in his family.

When you feel comfortable, you share what happened to you.

He doesn’t push for details. He has enough imagination and his own experiences to supplement any information you decide to give.

He just pats you on the head, grunting low. His way of telling you it’s okay. You’re safe from those people.

You’re part of his family now, after all. He will protect you.

Bo Sinclair:

It doesn’t take long for him to notice.

Unlike him, you don’t hide your scars very well.

Maybe it’s because you don’t mind that he sees. Perhaps it’s because you sometimes forget they are part of you. He doesn’t know.

He asks about the scars the next time you two are alone. It catches you so far off guard you freeze.

You explain, trying not to go into too much detail. Someone you trusted hurt you in an unrepairable way. That was something he could understand.

He gets upset on your behalf, something in your story triggering a part of him he thought he’d buried deep down enough not to deal with anymore.

He doesn’t get sappy about his own scars, but he’ll show them to you in an effort to sympathize.

You’re not alone in your feelings. He reassures you that everything will be alright and that it wasn’t your fault. He’ll watch out for you now.

Vincent Sinclair:

He first saw the scars when you posed for him for a quick sketch.

He was tactful, pointing out the marks in a subtle way. When you don’t quite understand what he’s getting at (thinking you might be posing wrong or something), he walks over and uses his wax-coated hands to investigate your skin.

Was it some type of accident? Had someone done this to you? His blood boiled at even the thought of someone hurting you. 

When you opened up about the backstory to your scars, he withheld his emotions from your eyes. He was angry, of course. He wanted to hurt the people who had hurt you.

He holds you in his lap as he continues with his sketch. He doesn’t truly need you to pose for him. Your shape is already burned into the depths of his memory.

He gently massages his hand over the scars on your arms and legs while his other hand sketches.

It’s the closest he can get to telling you how perfect you are. You’re his muse. His heart.

He will never let you feel unprotected. He’ll keep you safe.

Lester Sinclair:

Poor guy is so awkward about bringing it up.

He noticed the marks littering your body some time ago but never dared to ask.

He was already pretty sure of the answer, but he preferred to hear your side of the story before making any assumptions.

Your story breaks his heart little by little. He cries for you, grieved you had gone through what you had.

He holds you, telling you you’re perfect and didn’t deserve what had happened to you. He’s so sorry you went through it.

He’ll whisper affirmations to you for as long as you let him. He is here for you now. You are not alone anymore. It is all in the past.

He’s got you, and he’s never gonna let you go.

Michael Myers:

He likely won’t point them out.

He knows, of course. You’ve changed clothes in front of him on more than one occasion.

Sometimes, if he’s got the mask off, you might catch him staring. Otherwise, you can feel his eyes trace the pattern of marks over your body.

When you talk about it, he listens. He might not sympathize or react emotionally like others do to your story, but he does listen. He does care.

No one but him is allowed to hurt you. The rage of someone else laying their hands on you has him itching for his knife.

Someone you trusted hurt you? What’s their name?You mention a location they frequented in the past. Got it.

He’ll hunt them down within the week.

You won’t question the blood on him when he comes home late a few days later.

He holds you close that night, not allowing you to move from his side until dawn.

You’ll understand his unusually clingy behavior when you hear about a recent murder on the news.

You’re his. They can’t hurt you anymore.

Jesse Cromeans:

He sees the marks across your arms one evening.

His phone drones a partially insensitive joke about the scars, but he sees the way you react to them being mentioned and leaves it be.

He doesn’t talk about them again until you’re ready.

He has a big ego on him, but that doesn’t mean he will force it out of you.

When you do tell him what happened to you, he’s furious. Someone hurt his favorite little piggy?

He’s going to hunt them down. Spann is already in the process of finding their address.

They won’t get a video, though. This isn’t a film; this is revenge.

When everything is said and done, he’s going on a shopping spree. A big bouquet of your favorite flowers, all your favorite treats, and your favorite series/movie in the disc player ready for a long night in.

You’re blissfully unaware of what has happened to cause this treatment, and he will keep it that way.

From then on, he reminds you that your scars do not change how he feels about you. You’re perfect. He made sure they won’t ever harm you again.

Asa Emory:

He’s scarily observant. It didn’t take him long at all to find out.

He asks directly, lacking a certain amount of tact someone else might deploy for this kind of conversation. He’s not one for beating around the bush verbally.

He’s surprisingly understanding when you tell him about your past abuse. He experienced similar things in his youth. He won’t share, of course.

He doesn’t use your scars against you like he would if it were something else deeply personal.

Usually, he’d discover a pressure point such as this and use it to manipulate you subtly. This is not a pressure point he will use often, if at all.

You’re his now. You belong to him in every sense of the word. Whatever scars you gain now will be from him and only him, and only when they’re done intentionally.

You’re his favorite pet in the collection. The marks across your body don’t detract from your value in his eyes.

He will create masterful works of art out of your past, enmeshing it with your future with him.

[aemondwhoresworld]

JACAERYS VELARYON IDEAS RECCOMENDATION!

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!tarlarys! reader x baela targaryen (*) | angst to fluff, happy ending, jace has 2 wifes (you can add more to it)

*MUST READ: reader is also have Valyrian blood and she also rides a dragon. the Tarlarys and Targaryen families are great-distant relatives, so in this plot, there is no incestuous relationship between Jacaerys and reader! lady Baela Targaryen is already pregnant in this idea/story.

mae: yea i know i made up the tarlarys noble house but you can change it to your own noble house name ⭐️ i wish my english is better, or maybe more about the vocab 🥲 literally wanted to write a fiction myself 😭 anyways most of my ideas are suitable for like a series/ multi-part kind of.

warning: this is just an ideas, not a full imagine/ fic/ one-shot so if any writers here want to write a fic base on this idea, all name can be change to fit your story, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO USE IT! 🤗✨| i wrote this idea based on this scence 👇

! A FEW SMALL NOTES :

rhaenyra being a kind mother-in-law

no hate relationship between baela and y/n

in this idea the friendship between y/n and baela is a good friendship, but in terms of closeness, it is only at the social level, helping each other when needed.

the way y/n treats jace and baela’s two children also comes from her love for children. maybe y/n often spend a lot of time embroidering for their kids. because she also wanted a child herself so that’s why

of course there will be intimate between both jace and y/n on the wedding night.

- 1 MONTH BEFORE THE BATTLE BETWEEN TEAM BLACK & GREEN HAPPEN

in this story Jace marries 2 wives, the first wife is Lady Baela Targaryen married out of love and the second wife is Lady Y/n Tarlarys out of duty.

at this time, Baela and Jace already had 2 daughters (both inherited all the beauty of both targaryen, strong features). Jace and Y/n still haven’t had children yet, of course Jace has no intention of giving his seed to his second ladywife.

talk more about y/n's personality, i potraits her as a strong women who does not show how her feeling outside, but is a bit humble and y/n also has a personality abit weird like Helaena, a bit strange, but overall she still has her own unique characteristics because she has pure Valyrian blood.

the story will begin when team black is negotiating (like the scene in the GIF), then y/n steps in, instead of the person riding on dragon's back to go into battle is Rhaenys, the one who volunteers to go into battle is Y/n. because she thinks she is an ‘not so important’ person in this family, but then also come from the pressure from her own family, the Tarlarys caused after a long time of marriage, Y/n still has no news anything about having Jace’s child in her womb, or Jace's heir. therefore, it led to an argument between Jace and Y/n about this issue, when Jace said harsh words to Y/n such as "You will never have a chance to get carry by heir, only Baela". that’s why she think the best that she disapear or maybe dead

i will go through the scene of the battle between the dragons, and in this situation Y/n did not die but was only slightly injured but not significantly. when Y/n returned to Dragonstone, she didn't want to meet Jace or anyone, perhaps in this moment when she spent all her time on herself, thinking for herself, she somehow decided to end this marriage and she also asked her father not to try to withdraw his alliance because of her respect for Queen Rhaenyra and also because of she think Rhaenyra is the rightful heir to the iron throne, not Aegon.

while waiting for a response from her father, there was a cold war between Jace and her as things gradually became more tense not a single word between them, but at the most devasted moment, Y/n finally found comfort when she became pregnant, when she learned about the babe, that the only person that Y/n told was Queen Rhaenyra, Y/n also told the truth about the absent marriage between her and Jace that only happened in 1 month like that with Rhaenyra.

maybe after their talk, Rhaenyra has told Jace about what Y/n has said and from there Jace realized her sacrifices for this family, although at this time Jace still saw her as redundant but because of her, being pregnant, Jace has gradually spent time with Y/n, although not too much, but still has time for her during the day or night. in addition, Jace also wrote a letter for the crow to send to the Tarlarys House with the hope that Y/n's father would not accept her request to annul this marriage, because Jace knew that if her father agreed and didn't know about her pregnant, when the child being born this child of his might be called 'Bastard' and of course Jace didn't want any of his children to be called that because he himself had been be like that before.

gradually, as Jace spent more and more time with Y/n, it was time for feelings to blossom, but when Y/n just felt the love from Jace, that small hope was turned off when Jace learned about Baela was also pregant with their third babe, from then on Jace seemed to disappear from Y/n's sight until Y/n went into labor and gave birth alone, after giving birth to the child. Rhaenyra came to meet Jace's first son with brown hair, slightly curly, holding the child, looking at the child with love and affection because when Rhaenyra looked at the child him she remembered her late son, Lucaerys. Jacaerys late younger brother (possibly naming the child Lucaerys Velaryon after Jace's late brother)

time passed when Lucaerys was now 3 years old, there were times when Jace would spend with Lucaerys, it could be said that for 3 years, the feelings between Y/n for Jace were always the same, always loyal towards Jace, and Jace gradually fell in love with Y/n but he never told Y/n, thus making Y/n misunderstand that Jace only cared about her because of Lucaerys. Maybe when one time while having dinner with the family, Lucaerys just ask Jace about why he don’t have any siblings, which make him feel bad so that’s when Y/n decided to sit down and talk clearly, about everything, everythings that had happen in the past 3 years, all about her loneliness and also to admitting her feelings for Jace, and maybe Jace also told her the truth. followed by days when Jace always tried to make up for Y/n about all the time that he treats her.

[caffichai]

Food Bank Fundraiser

Hi everyone!

First of all, I want to say thanks to everyone who's been leaving such nice tags/comments on stuff I've posted! It's been really encouraging (o^▽^o)

Anyway, I think we all know it's very dark days on the economic front for many of us. So as such, I'd like to help raise some funds for Food Banks Canada! In exchange for you making a donation to the food bank, I will draw a character suggestion!

I know this is not really the sort of thing I normally do or post here but... many folks are struggling to put food on the table right now, and the food bank is a source of support for many and provides an absolute necessity. I've seen many people struggling in my own city, and food security has become an even bigger issue than it already was in the last couple of years with the food bank struggling to keep up with demand. Of course, food security is an issue across the whole country that's putting a huge strain on food banks, with nearly 5% of the entire population making use of food banks monthly, and 23% of the population reporting food insecurity (CBC, 2024; Global News, 2024). Unsurprisingly, those who are already most disadvantaged suffer the effects of food scarcity even more (Statistics Canada, 2023). To make matters more desperate, Canada's food bank system is on the brink of collapse (CTV News, 2024).

I know this isn't going to something big enough to change the world or anything, but being able to make even a small impact for individual people is important too!

✨Incentives✨

Of course, I'm sure people aren't just in it for a reward, but rewards make things all the sweeter, right?

For those who want to contribute, I'll take a character suggestion and add it to a poll (depending on the number of contributors, it may be split up into multiple polls), and then I'll draw as many as I can from top to bottom ranking! If you contribute, please send me a DM with your donation receipt and your character idea! They won't necessarily all be drawn in the same style, and they'll be done according to how much time I've got. (I know that commissions are probably the biggest incentive, but realistically, I struggle to get them done quickly and they're probably not that affordable to everyone)

If you prefer SFW or NSFW, you can let me know (But NSFW will be posted to Cohost). If you make a bigger contribution, I'll reach out to you and ask if you wanna see more specifics/details in your piece. How's that for sweetening the pie? :3

For those who can't make a donation (which is completely understandable), simply spreading the post is also helpful, and I appreciate that greatly as well!

Don't forget that giving a donation allows you to get a tax break based on the amount donated as well!

Alternatives?

If you'd rather donate to your own local food bank, that's great too! You can DM me and send me a pic of your receipt and I'll still add your suggestion to the poll.

If you REALLY want a commission, you can also DM me and I'll do my best to fulfil it! I won't be taking commissions for this till/if there's at least a couple of items on the poll though. The proceeds will go to my own local food bank. The commission will be done later though, and may take some time to fulfil. I take payment only after starting.

When do we start??

I guess once there's a good number of poll options? I have no idea how long that will be, but rest assured I'll keep you updated!

Where do we contribute?

You can make your donation to Food Banks Canada! They really need it!

Alternatively, you can make a donation to your local food bank or equivalent charity.

Other Questions?

Feel free to send me a message or an ask! I'll get back to you ASAP. If I need to include more details or clarify something, let me know! It's my first time doing this!

TL;DR

I want to help raise money for food banks! Anyone who contributes to Food Banks Canada (or donates to their own local food bank or equivalent charity) can DM me with their receipt and give a character to add to the poll. Poll characters will be drawn in order of their ranking, as many as I can manage, over as long a period of time as I can manage!

No pressure to donate of course, I just figured this would be a fun way of raising a bit of money to help out, and allow us to donate more than what I personally can

Current Contributor Count: 13

Suggested Characters:

Imagine your beloved, obscure or popular character here on this poll list! Oooooooh, how lucrative :3

Total funds raised:

780.36$!!!

[heytheredelulu]

Hey i hope you’re doing well i have an idea for a one shot and was wondering if you could write it.

So basically Bucky hears the reader talking to Natasha or anyone that she thinks she’s too heavy for any partner and that she has given up on dating for a while because of that, and of course Bucky hearing that he starts lifting heavy stuff such as weights, machines or even Steve😭 around the reader to show her he can easily lift her weight as well because he has feelings for her and you can add or change whatever you like and make it smutty idk whatever you think is right i trust your skills.

Hi! I’m doing good, how are you?

This request? Uh, YES. 🙌🏻

I love this idea!

I wrote this fully intending on Steve being like, “She ain’t lookin’, Buck. Lift me.” and then changed my mind and rewrote it when it took on a life of its own. 😂

I live and breathe smut so I definitely threw that in there in the form of Bucky needing to blow off some steam when he thinks about the reader. 😉

Anyway, thank you for the request and I hope it’s what you were looking for!

💋Sj

Bucky Barnes x Plus!Size Reader

18+

Word Count: 2.9k

CW: Male masturbation while fantasizing about oral (f receiving) and sex

“Bullshit.”

Bucky’s ears perk up as he passes the garage and hears Natasha fussing at someone in a string of curses, but it’s your voice that has him peering around the concrete wall with interest.

“I ain’t lyin’ Nat.”

You’re bent over the open hood of an old hot rod, your ass accentuated by the denim jeans hugging your curves. You blindly reach out towards the red headed assassin wiggling your fingers at her that are blackened with grease. Natasha rolls her eyes, pushing off the wall and picking up a socket wrench that she holds just barely in your reach. You let out a sigh, standing upright and snatching it from her.

“Look.” You tell her pointedly, blowing a loose piece of hair back from your face with a huff from your pouty lips. “It’s been months. I’m sufferin’, I am, really. But I’m just over it, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” She replies, leaning her hip against the side of the car, watching you with a skeptical frown. “If you’re suffering, just come out with me. We can hit up that rooftop bar downtown. Have a couple drinks, dance a bit, pick up some hot strangers and scratch that itch. Come on.”

Scratch that itch?

A muscle jumps in Bucky’s jaw at Nat’s comment and he can feel his jealousy simmering low in his gut.

He’s been pining after you damn near since you’d arrived at the compound. The sweet little engineer Tony brought on to help take on his workload was only supposed to stick around and help out for a few months but when the team expressed their disappointment in you leaving and Tony realized despite his astronomically sized ego that he could get twice as much done with your help, giving him the opportunity for more free time with his family- you were brought on full time.

“I can scratch my own itches, thanks.”

Your curt reply to Nat brought Bucky’s attention back to the conversation he was eavesdropping on while the implication caught the attention of his cock, his jeans suddenly feeling tighter as he continued to listen.

“You’re crazy. You need to get laid.”

“Nat.” You warn and turn your back to her to grab a hand towel.

“Come on.” She pleaded, crossing her arms. “You’ve been so wound up. Nothing loosens you up better than a big, thick-“

Nat’s cut off by the hand towel being tossed in her direction and she catches it with a chuckle.

“I don’t understand why you’re so hung up on this.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so afraid to get laid.” She counters.

“I’m not afraid.” You protest, raking a hand through your hair. “I’m just- I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

Nat’s expression softens as she hangs the hand towel over the open hood. “Try?” She asks. “We’re friends, you know you can talk to me.”

Bucky watches you shift uncomfortably and for a moment he feels guilty for listening in, as it’s clear you’re debating on confiding in Natasha and it feels wrong to eavesdrop on something so private. But as soon as you let out that defeated sigh and begin to explain yourself, he’s so goddamn grateful that this was the conversation he had a chance to overhear.

“Men just don’t know how to handle me.” You admit, leaning back over the car and pretending to inspect something to avoid eye contact with Natasha but she isn’t having any of it, bending down to hold your gaze. “How so?”

“They just-“ You huff out a breath of annoyance, bracing your palms on the front of the car and standing upright. “I’m curvy, yeah? And I want a man that’s gonna pick me up, toss me around, hold me up and fuck me on a wall or somethin’ but the last couple guys I went home with they’re so.. boring. Missionary. Doggy. Like for once, would it be too much to ask for a dude to want to, I dunno, have me sit on their face? I swear, it’s like they’re afraid. I ain’t ashamed of my body, I like the way I look but shit, Nat. It really fucks with a girls head to feel like she’s too heavy or something to really be satisfied.”

Natasha’s moving closer to you, beginning to say something about ‘weak men with noodle arms’ but Bucky can’t hear it over the steady thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears.

He can’t believe that your experiences have been so lousy that you won’t even entertain the idea of going out with Nat if she was wanting to pick up guys. Honestly, he’s relieved by that, since the idea of you hooking up with anyone has the knuckles of his flesh hand bleached white with how hard he’s clenching his fist. He flexes his fingers, trying to relax his hand as he feels a wave of embarrassment wash over him. How could he be angry or even jealous when he’s been too shy to make a move?

C’mon Barnes, grow a pair.

She wants strong? You can show her strong.

He sucks in a breath, steeling his nerves before rounding the corner and strolling into the garage with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Hey Nat.” He says with a friendly nod before slowly swinging his gaze over to you. “Doll.” He drawls. “What are you ladies up to this morning?” Your cheeks heat under the warmth of his cerulean eyes roaming over your body and you fumble the socket wrench, earning a lopsided grin from the handsome brunette. “Just- just workin’ on my project.” You stammer, bending down to pick up the tool. Damn, one flash of this man’s pearly whites is all it takes for you to lose control of your fine motor skills? Maybe you do need that itch scratched more than you’ve let on to your best friend and she can tell too, her brow lifting as she watches the scene unfolding.

“Mustang?” He asks, planting his hands on his hips. His eyes follow you as you bend over and reach for the socket wrench that’s just out of your reach underneath the car. When you stretch, your baggy t-shirt rises up your midriff, giving him a glimpse of that cute little pooch tucked into the dark-wash denim jeans that are deliciously hugging your hips and thighs.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “1960’s?” He asks, leaning down behind you. God, what he’d do to bring his palm down hard on your perfect, round ass and watch the flesh redden with each swat of his hand.

“‘62.” You grunt, your fingertips brushing the tool that’s just barely out of reach. Bucky shrugs off his leather jacket and tosses it lazily over the workbench before stepping in even closer to you. “Here, lemme get that for you, doll.” He murmurs, his vibranium hand settling on the underside of the Mustang. Before you can eke out a reply, he’s lifting the vehicle off the garage floor like a goddamn carjack with enough ease that it makes the 3500 pound car seem as if it were cut from styrofoam. You’re frozen in place on your hands and knees from the show of brawn so it’s Natasha that crouches down and quickly grabs up the socket wrench before you snap out of your trance and scramble to your feet.

Nat presses the tool firmly into your palm while giving you a look that screamed, ‘do not fuck this up’ and saunters backwards admist the low groan of your car being set back down on its tires. “I gotta meet Steve for a briefing.” She tells you, which you know is a damn lie- but you nod nonetheless and stutter out a, “Y-yeah, yeah. Catch you later.” She gives you a little wave and jogs off, her red waves bouncing in stride. When you turn back around, Bucky is leaning against the car with his arms crossed, his biceps testing the integrity of his black tshirt.

Goddamn, that’s some quality fabric.

His gaze is locked on you, making you sweat a little under the intense stare so you awkwardly begin picking up the rest of your tools and putting them back in their rightful place at your workbench. A strong arm comes into view in your periphery as Bucky plucks up his jacket and you nearly lose your breath at the scent of cedarwood and leather. He slings the coat over his right shoulder, holding it with his flesh hand, his vibranium hand reaching up to rake through his cropped hair. “Finished so soon?” He asks. “You ain’t gotta quit workin’ just ‘cause I stopped by.”

“Oh, no. No, I-“ You swallow thickly at the way the corner of his mouth twitches up into a smirk. “I actually was just getting to a stopping point.” You tell him, absentmindedly pulling your hair up into a ponytail. With your neck exposed, he wets his bottom lip at the thought of dragging his teeth across the skin and that little glimpse of his tongue flicking out has you struggling to focus anywhere but his mouth. “Got somewhere you gotta be?” He asks, his voice low and gruff.

Fuck, this man is sex on legs. On two thick, strong legs.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, I got a meeting with Tony about a new project.” You explain, though it comes out an octave higher than usual. He quirks a brow. “Yeah? You got a new project?”

“Yep. Yeah. I better get going.” You teeter on your heel, ready to flee.

Chicken shit.

“Hey, wait. Hold on.” He says gently, reaching to grab your wrist and setting your skin ablaze with the touch. You glance over your shoulder at him. “Hm?”

“What’re you doin’ tonight, doll?”

“What am I..?”

Holy fucking shit. Is he gonna-

No, no way. This is Bucky fuckin’ Barnes. You two are friends. He’s your friend. Your insanely hot friend that you’ve definitely had some filthy, sinful thoughts about, but he’s never led you to believe that he’s ever thought of you as more than a friend.

Or has he? I mean, you’ve caught his eyes lingering on you on a few occasions but that doesn’t mean-

“Lemme take you to dinner.”

Oh. Oh.

It takes you a few seconds to realize that you’re staring at him like an idiot with your mouth agape before you click your jaw shut and nod. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, alright.” You manage.

A slow grin spreads across his face. “Yeah? I’ll pick you up at 6?” He asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets as tries to reign in his eagerness.

“That sounds- that sounds great.”

“Great.” He repeats, toeing the ground with his boot before taking a step backwards towards the open garage door. He sweeps his eyes over you one last time. “It’s a date, then.” And he ducks out of the garage back toward the compound.

You said yes.

You said yes.

He slips into his bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him and he falls back onto his bed, letting out a breath of disbelief. He’s taking you out. He finally fucking asked.

Laying in silence for several minutes he replays the interaction over in his mind like he typically did after he was around you. He had a tendency to over analyze your body language, your expressions, hang on to your every word like it kept him afloat in his sea of anxiety; though sometimes, most times, he let himself drown. He drowned in the worry that maybe he was imaging the way your voice caught around him. The way you tensed when he got close.

But you said yes.

You wouldn’t have said yes if he was just imagining it, right?

He lets out a huff, scrubbing a hand down his face as your words to Nat echo through his head like a shout in a cavern.

“Like for once, would it be too much to ask for a dude to want to, I dunno, have me sit on their face?”

And there’s his cock again, straining against his jeans just from the thought.

He groans softly, flicking the button open and unzipping his fly to give himself some relief from the pressure as he stares at the ceiling, watching the fan spin round and round and..

It takes all of the self control he can muster not to reach into his boxers so his hands fist in the sheets in restraint.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s fucked his fist to the thought of you. Hell, it wouldn’t be the 2nd, 5th or even 10th time he’d done it.

He lets his eyes slip closed, imagining your plush thighs straddling his head as you smother him with your pretty, wet cunt. His aching cock twitching with need from neglect as he focuses all of his attention on delving his tongue into your tight, warm, hole.. closing his lips around that swollen button that makes you writhe in pleasure.. your puffy pussy lips grinding against his face as you use him to chase your release .. your sweet, sweet slick coating his chin and-

Fuck it.

He shifts his weight on the mattress, tugging his jeans down enough for his erection to spring free, spitting in his flesh hand and slowly stroking himself. He groans, squeezing the crown of his cock, a bead of pearly precum gathering at his slit that he rubs roughly with his thumb. Bucky can imagine you on top of him, your pouty lips parting with a soft gasp as you sink down onto him, maybe even a hiss or shit- a whimper from the stretch when he splits you open. He knows he’s thicker than most men, a side effect of the serum- everything about him is bigger, thicker, better. Fuck those other men who couldn’t satisfy you. Fuck them. He strokes himself faster, the thought of you bouncing on his cock making his toes curl. Your tits, those big beautiful tits, swinging, slapping together with every thrust.

He’d reach up and pinch one of your pebbled nipples, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers, cupping the other with his hand to give it equal attention. It’d be heavy in his palm, he just knows it. Heavy, warm and filling his whole fucking hand. He imagines yanking you forward and burying his face in those perfect breasts before trailing sloppy, open mouthed kisses up through the valley of them. He’d trace the tip of his nose across the swell and sink his teeth into the supple flesh, soothing the sting with a lave of his tongue, making you collapse forward against him as you cry out in pleasure. He could fuck up into you deeper at that angle, feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix over and over until you see stars and lose your rhythm as your orgasm tears through you.

Yeah, he’d make you come so hard you’re limp on top of him and he’d reach behind you, grabbing a handful of your plump, round ass and taking control, moving you up and down the length of him at a frenzied pace until he-

His fantasy fades as his climax crests and he grunts, thick ropes of come spilling over his fist and onto his pubic bone.

He lies still and silent, his heartbeat a metronome in his ear, keeping time of the minutes that stretch on while he steadies his ragged breathing. With a sigh he sits up, looking down at the mess in his lap as his euphoria dissipates and the shame starts to creep in.

He’s certain of two things in that moment-

One, he needs a goddamn shower and two, this will be the last time he fantasizes about fucking you.

Pulling himself to his feet, he glances over at the clock.

14:17.

He smiles to himself, crossing the threshold into the bathroom and twisting the shower on. His flesh hand tests the water, the warm spray cleaning the sticky release from between his fingers before he steps in, letting the water cascade over him.

Less than four hours. He thinks to himself.

In less than four hours he’ll be sitting across from you in a dimly lit restaurant, watching your eyes sparkle in the candlelight as he prompts you about your favorite things just so he can see the way you light up when you talk about your passions. He smiles to himself at the image of your hands gesturing wildly as you talk, the sound of your infectious laugh and the way your breasts bounce when it bubbles up from your chest.

He begins to stiffen again at the thought.

Goddamnit, his cock just won’t quit, will it?

He turns the knob, the water quickly growing ice cold and he grits his teeth at the temperature change, cursing the serum for making his refractory period so short. He’s grateful for it in the proper circumstance, but when he’s alone it’s a fuckin’ nuisance.

Bucky’s eyes slip shut, focusing in on the feeling of the frigid water splashing against the top of his head and rolling down the taut muscle of his back. Eventually the ache ebbs and he cranks the temperature back up, reaching for his shampoo. The cedarwood fragrance clings to the steam, filling his nostrils as he massages it into his scalp. Tipping his head back under the steady stream, he sighs contentedly.

Tonight’s the night he finally gets his girl.

[toxycodone]

OK if I can share some chilchuck thoughts just as like. a showcase of how I view this man.

As usual if you all have anything to add or argue. Feel free.

sfw

He's emotionally stunted (duh) and repressed. This makes him not only difficult to befriend, but also very hard headed when it comes to romance.

Like, aside from all the professionalism stuff, he always holds you at arm's length. Even after discussing and becoming aware of this, it's a constant internal struggle

Is a romantic relationship with this man possible? Yes, of course. But he struggles with his own insecurities about it. Aside from all the dangers of his profession, he's at the mercy of his own mind. He worries a lot about keeping you around and happy. And most of all, your own safety. It would be a nightmare if something happened to you (and the guilt of him dying permanently and leaving you behind wracks him with guilt).

I think this leads him to prefer "unserious" short term relationships. Maybe just built on the idea of sex/mutual agreement not to get too intimate with each other. But with him, the longer it lasts, it's inevitable it becomes serious because he will end up caring for you intensely no matter what.

So that makes him want to cut it off. Or ignore you. And it requires a serious "what are we" conversation and encouragement that hey. sometimes love is worth the pain and difficulty navigating it

And so he'll....albeit reluctantly, try to start something with you.

It's awkward at first and difficult to navigate through the tons of boundaries he sets up. But eventually he does let his guard down and relax into it. Chilchuck is more keen on lowkey forms of PDA and such but he can really be a sweet guy

nsfw

Absolutely a top. Mostly dom leaning? but he isn't totally married to that (or anyone really anymore huh)

He likes positions that make him feel big and in control, especially if you're a race that is bigger than him. He knows that what he's working with isn't going to be big by your standards, but he knows the positions that can make it feel like more or hit the right spots.

His lockpicking skills give him nimble fingers too. so thats something

He's not shy and will stick fingers in your pussy/ass while he fills another hole. doesn't matter. If you wanna feel stuffed goddamn he will try his hardest

Definitely not a whimperer. He growls and curses like a fucking sailor in common and his native tongue. It's almost somehow more inappropriate when he's saying it??

He bites. And scratches. Chilchuck tends to have pent up anger (or just feelings in general) and will take it out on you sexually

and for that matter I think he can be crude when speaking to you too. Often tells you that he knows you can be louder, calls you a slut, or growls and tells you to take it. Or if you need to be quiet he's threatening for you to stfu or he'll stop and leave you begging for him. yeah. he's. aggressive

But he can be romantic too, just tell him that's what you want. He definitely has experience. It'll be awkward at first (again, the emotional constipation coming through) but as he gets into things...it becomes more and more sweet and intimate.

[pretzel-box]

Hello everyone.

This will be a rather long post about some things I wanna adress, including the fact that I plan to stop writing for Pressure, my OCS and other peoples Ocs in the near future.

Down under the cut is a list with my personal view, issues and some other things that lead to this decision. Maybe I miss a lot or don't go too deep into detail but the main points are covered.

But before I would like to add that this is MY opinion and MY choice. I let you think of it what you want but I also request that you respect my actions.

The first point is probably already clear from the start. Maybe some noticed, maybe not but I fell out of love with the fandom and the game itself. It became boring to play, the characters lost their charm and I can't come up with any creative scenarios anymore and the ones that already exists have lost their meaning. This may sound like the typical burnout thing and maybe it is but I'm more than certain that I wanna step away from the game and the fandom to focus on other things that bring me more joy. Maybe I start a multifandom writing blog or I just learn another hobby.

The second thing that is close connected to the first point is the fandom of the game, including the community on tumblr. A huge part are super sweet people with a very creative side. I would go as far and say that I brought some of those together with my projects and writing and it really makes me happy to see everyone interact so friendly on my blog.

But something that I haven't adressed is the fact that there are also plenty of hardcore fans, haters and weird people in my askbox or general in the fandom. It is to be expected when someone gains a massive amount of followers. But I do not accept the fact that people judge me based on what I write, who I write for, when I write and if I write at all. I delete those asks. Some telling me that my community project is awful, unserious and pulls other ocs into dirt. Other people are claiming that I don't write Sebastians Character right and oh wow seriously? I am not Sebastians creator, I do not have that ultimate deep lore and mindset to write a person 1:1. I get hate for my own stories and of course the fans could now come to my protetion and say „But Chea don't listen to the haters, you are amazing“ but it doesn't fix the thing in a slightest.

Also regards the people that praise me, some of them ( I won't name anyone) are counting to those weird people that force me. There were 2 or 3 people that acted all sweet in public only to try and take control of some story plots etc.

Also, I started writing when Pressure was first raising to be popular. There weren't many pressure writers out there. I am usually not someone that posts their work online, I don't comment on stuff and I rarely like something. But I really wanted to see more pressure fanfictions. Now we reached the point where there are more than plenty amazing writers and I can quit. There is no need for me to continue something that only makes me hate myself more because everytime I open my notes to write a story for pressure it feels like a mental torture. I leave the writing to the other blogs.

The status for now:

AASB gets discontinued.

Reverse AU gets discontinued.

Streamer AU will recieve 6 more chapters to end the story on a good term.

House of Entities will get continued for a small period of time, probably till I am done with the Streamer AU. There is no plan for the chapter count yet.

All requests in the inbox will get deleted and the inbox itself will be closed after Streamer AU finished.

Any other unnamed project will get discontinued as well.

All stories, one shots, series, drabbles and other works of mine are free to use. Other authors can pick them up, re-write them or just make an own story out of those. I drop all rights for the ideas and I won't demand any credits either. Maybe someone else would like to continue House of Entities as well.

My final word, which may sound repeating: I do not change my opinion, there won't be any motivation talks or sugar coated words that will change my stand in those things. I know some of you will try and comfort me but this is really not needed. I wish for you all to accept the outcome of this situation and move on more or less.

I apologize dearly because this is very sudden and I hope you all will understand.

-Chea

[enjolrasoftheday]

Hello!! Do you know any good Enjolras/Grantaire fics ? Asking for scientific purposes only, naturally

Well, if it's in the name of science...

I do have some recommendation lists in my fic rec tag, and I absolutely still stand by those. But! Here are some more recent fics, in no particular order, that I've enjoyed (and may or may not have speed-read in the last week since receiving this ask, I swear I wasn't ignoring you, I was just conducting important research lol). I’m not going to include the tags/warnings for each fic, so remember to take a look at those on ao3!

Also if anyone else has any recs, feel free to add them in the comment or reblogs!

Happy reading!!

Seek and Destroy by pumpkinspiceprouvaire (27,102 words)

Because Grantaire doesn’t feel that way about him. Grantaire is his friend, and Enjolras will love him from a distance, and that’s the way it’s always been, the way it’s always going to be. Enjolras’ blood freezes in his veins. It’s so obvious. This isn’t Grantaire.

restoring the balance by televisionbodies (14,427 words)

“How long are you stuck here?” He thinks for a moment. “The next train is in about five hours time. And then I’ve got work again, tomorrow.” “No wonder you wanted a coffee,” the bartender murmurs. “Well, then. You’ve got plenty of time to let me show you around.” — It’s 12:36am on a Wednesday and Enjolras, consumed with his work, has missed the last train home.

Les beaux cheveux que voilà by GayAvocado (9,184 words)

One should always have a hair tie around their wrist. If not for their own hair, for others’, or for the multitude of mundane situations that require a hair tie. So of course Grantaire has a hair tie around his wrist tonight. A pink one that might have belonged to Jehan or Azelma or both at some point. The neon colour will look lovely in the middle of Enjolras' golden curls. Or: For some reason, Grantaire finds himself braiding Enjolras’ hair way more often than he thought he ever would. Things change between them.

And Pages To Go by femmebingley (5,441 words)

Grantaire loses his sketchbook. /// “You’ve had it this whole time?” Grantaire couldn’t even find enough indignation to cover his growing terror. “Did you open it?” Enjolras sighed, and that was it. Grantaire’s life was over.

Lost in All of Our Vices by cx_shhhh (11,220 words)

“You will be banished for an indeterminate amount of time and stripped of your godly abilities,” Javert announces, voice booming in the echoing hall, not unlike the thunder he represents. “Until you learn that order is necessary for the gods to stay in power, that the respect of mortals is valuable to us, and until you learn to love them wholeheartedly, you will live like one.” Basically, Enjolras is banished from the heavens, and he learns that a god can, indeed, fall in love.

The Worst First Date by kjack89 (3,443 words)

Enjolras sat down at his desk, fresh mug of coffee in front of him, and took a moment to adjust the ring light behind his cellphone before taking a deep breath and pushing record. “So, um, I hope no one minds but we are taking a break today from our usually scheduled ranting at various governmental institutions because one of my best friends wants me to do a TikTok that’s part of this viral trend.” Or, the one where Enjolras makes a TikTok about his first date with Grantaire.

Green Rushes by loverism (6,043 words)

The mermaid, Enjolras, bites his lip, glaring at Grantaire like he's trying to determine whether he's serious. Grantaire supposes he was probably raised on stories of how evil the cave-witches are, how deceitful; how they mock everything they speak of; how they're driven only by profit; and above all, how striking a bargain with one of them is never, ever worth it. Grantaire can't exactly call those stories inaccurate. or: grantaire is a sea witch chilling in a cave, mixing potions and trying to mind his own business. enjolras has other ideas.

Love is Blind by kjack89 (32,982 words)

Enjolras sat down in front of the camera, and the producer just off-screen gave him a reassuring smile. “Nothing to it,” the producer promised. “Just introduce yourself and tell everyone why you’re here.” Enjolras jerked a nod before looking into the camera. “My name is Enjolras,” he said. “I’m 31 years old, and I’m here because this is the first season that this show has been open to queer contestants.” The producer cleared his throat. “So do you believe Love is Blind?” he prompted. Enjolras gave the camera a smile. “Well,” he said. “That’s what we’re here to find out.”

Love Bites by ShameDumpster (9,557 words)

"What—" Enjolras says, breath hitching at the sight, “What are you doing?” Grantaire immediately freezes, and then pulls back, slightly. Even still, it’s closer than they’ve ever actually been, barely a foot between their faces. "I…need to bite you?" he says, managing to sound both wry and nervous at the same time, "How exactly did you think this worked?" In which Grantaire has recently been turned into a vampire, and Enjolras offers to help him. For the Same-Prompt Fic Challenge 2022

Tell Me Why (Ain’t Nothin but a Heartache by cs_shhhh (3,281 words)

It starts slowly, of course. Grantaire already pays too much attention to Enjolras, so it’s easy to spot the white petals, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Enjolras seems to grow angrier and angrier when the coughing starts interrupting his speeches, so much that Combeferre has to take over after pushing a glass of water towards him, and he casts the flowers to the ground, glaring at them.

anything you want, boy (i can make it happen) by thewalrus_said (3,545 words)

As he’d been falling asleep, he’d expected to feel devastated, or heartbroken, or something negative after a clearly one-off night with the object of his long-held desires, but instead he just feels...satisfied, almost content. Enjolras clearly finds him at least physically desirable, and he’s apparently in Enjolras’ head at least a little bit, and that turns out to be enough for him. He’s finally had sex with Enjolras, and while it hadn’t been what he’d secretly hoped for, it had still been good, and so the memory doesn’t drag him down like he’d feared it might. So when he answers a knock on his door a week later to find a breathless Enjolras, who immediately pushes his way into Grantaire’s apartment and says, “I think we should have sex again,” he’s more than a little taken aback.

The Arms of the Ocean, so Sweet and so Cold by ShameDumpster (11,867 words)

Sirens attack the crew of the dreaded pirate ship, the Musain. They send out Enjolras to deal with it, as in the past, he’s proven himself to be unaffected by their song. Unfortunately for him, as he’s told Grantaire many times, things can (and do) change. And this change may leave his life, and heart, in the balance.

It Only Takes a Meow-ment by cx_shhhh (7,158 words)

“The prince is finally putting out a challenge for his hand. He has a very loyal cat, you see. Whichever suitor, man or woman, can obtain the ring attached to the bow around its neck will be given the time of day.” Or Enjolras is oblivious, and it impacts everyone around him in the best way possible.

neon loneliness by dyhtps (4,345 words)

He lets his gaze fall around the kitchen. A coffee mug left out on the side, a tea-towel hung over the oven handle, even one of those awful kiss the cook aprons that he figures must belong to Enjolras’ boyfriend. Grantaire blames the concussion for the sudden, awful sinking feeling in his stomach. He decided he hates the mystery boyfriend, maybe he's been an arse to future Grantaire before and it's just his subconscious warning him to get away from the guy as quick as he can. or Grantaire loses his memory, is jealous of Enjolras' mystery boyfriend and finally realises that's actually him.

visiting hours by televisionbodies (5,731 words)

”I guess I’m just surprised you’re still in here at all.” “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Enjolras says smoothly, knowing exactly what Grantaire means. “Two months?” One side of Grantaire’s mouth is turning upwards. “I didn’t think you were capable of sitting still that long.” — 5 times grantaire visits enjolras in prison, and 1 time he doesn’t have to.

[justpoliteconversations]

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 3)

The house does not make a home, but a home can make a man.

The trash pile has grown again. It's spilling out of the bin.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

The house is bigger than you remember it being from the game. For one, there's a sectioned off washroom hidden partially under the loft stairs and a full kitchen area in the left rear of the house. The ceiling is also ridiculously high for a one story (technically two) house, but you let that detail slide. It's to your- Link's, benefit, after all.

Another thing, upgrades are not offered automatically here. Though that should've been obvious in hindsight and you're a bit embarrassed to admit it'd slipped your mind. Most people would decorate and furnish their own homes with either their old furniture or newly bought.

That's what the many, many shops the game never had reason to show were for, after all.

Therein led to your current dilemma.

Practicality or comfort? The large thin rug with dark patterns, or a smaller plush one with elegant designs embroidered at the edges? Red covers? Blue, white, gray? All of them perhaps? Maybe just three?

Does Link prefer cast iron or the wok? Steel forks or maybe chop sticks? A full set of pots and pans, or just two or three good ones for repeated use? Which set of knives? The specialty set or a general use one?

Should the loft have a rug too? Should you get both? Should you get three? What about the washroom?

Towels? A vase...

Dumb idea. No vases.

Should there be two beds? When Link frees Zelda from the castle, surely the poor woman won't be made to live there in that festering monster's nest of a ruin. And having been trapped there for a century as the world outside moved forward (after having been royalty nonetheless), would she even know how to live on her own?

Would it be presumptuous of you to already set up for her arrival before Link even properly remembered who she was? You didn't want to make Link feel obligated to fufill your assumptions like that. He already had so much on his shoulders. He didn't need you to add more.

So, only one bed. Sheets?

"Jus' get them all, ya cluckin' mother cucco." Adino snapped waspishly, thin brows pulled down into a severe looking glare. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the wall closest to the 'Odds and Ends' shop's door, pointedly.

You barely spared him a glance, used to his attitude after having known him for nearly three years. And honestly, it was all for show anyway. Adino loved shopping with you, but the spiteful little shit would never admit it. Even under pain of death.

'Jus' making sure the walkin' rupee bag doesn't fall dead to an ill fated breeze.' He'd snark if ever questioned why he was following you around on his days off.

Lies, of course. The truth is he's lonely. So very lonely and too hurt yet to reach out to anyone else for companionship.

The man he'd called father for 14 years of his short life suddenly throws him out of the only home he'd known with barely the clothes on his back. All after finding out his recently departed wife had been having affairs. And the kicker, the bastard claims he supposedly doesn't even know if Adino's his or not (despite them having the exact same eyes and brows).

It'd been convenient though, you'd give him that. Just washed his hands of the situation entirely. Started fresh with a new wife and got rid of the unnaturally (Adino had parroted coldly, like a curse and a confession breathed in the same breath) effeminate son that may or may not be his.

No stings attached. Just living comfortably on his late wife's family property and shacking up with her younger sister.

And that abandoned son running, running, running across Hyrule. Until he dropped right outside of Hateno, quiet and hurting and nearly driven mad with hateful, writhing loathing.

You pull yourself from those thoughts. It's not your business. Adino may have shared that information with you during his mandatory background check, but that doesn't mean it's any of your business.

Even if the boy is living with you, and has been for the last three years.

(Even if you already ruined that man's fletching business. Even if you never told Adino why that man'd taken a very long walk off a very tall cliff.

Even if Adino knew and left flowers on your desk every year on that day ever since.)

"I'll take them all. As well as the rugs, towels and curtains, please. Oh. And that tapestry. Yes. The one with the apples."

Adino snorted, rolling his eyes, and you smiled. A merchant's got to advertise wherever possible, after all.

The older, greying woman behind the counter nodded, glancing over to two younger women (her granddaughters, twins and five years orphaned. turned 17 last Fall) waiting unobtrusively near the back of the shop. They didn't need any more instruction than that, swiftly gathering your choices and folding them into neatly wrapped bundles.

You swear this family had to have some sheikah blood in them somewhere. Even if they had pitch black hair and the darkest grey eyes you've ever seen. They were just too quiet and efficient to be normal Hyrulians. (And were little known for their discretion above all else.)

You tipped the women for thier help. They thanked you with a quiet tilt of their perfectly kept heads, before returning to their preferred corner in the far back.

You didn't bother to barter with this woman. You paid full price for everything, and then tipped her too.

Four gold rupees. And a note, which she took with a nod and a knowing glint in her eyes.

(Because they were known for their discretion, and you appreciated that more than anything.

You knew she understood the flowers you left on her desk every year on the same day.

And you knew she'd understand this too.)

You left, but not before catching one of the twins (the one with the blue head cloth and lip rouge) staring longingly after Adino's back as he marched from the store in a dramatic huff. Her sister hiding a probable grin behind her red painted hand.

'Interesting. But not my problem.'

---

Link looked up the curved path to Hateno's guarded gate as he sheathed his guardian sword, the black mist of two hopelessly mangled bodies blowing away in the strong mountainside winds. Further back still was the semi-conscious groan of a young woman surrounded by fallen mushrooms.

Link ignored her slowly rising form, having checked her vitals earlier before being ambushed by a pair of bokoblins. He knew she'd be fine, and honestly, if she was sneaking around monster infested forests for mushrooms (Link could still hear the snorting of the beasts further past the treeline) then she must be able to take a hit or two and come out okay.

She must have had the same thoughts because she merely dusted herself off, picked up her fallen produce and made for the trees once more. Barely sparing Link a backwards wave before disappearing into the thick underbrush.

Link blinked after her. And sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

So. That happened.

Link let it roll off his back easily enough. He had more important issues to deal with. Such as was it appropriate for him to just show up at your (and now his) doorstep fresh from the road and smelling every bit of it.

He discreetly sniffed under his arm and grimaced.

Surely you'd understand. You and him were connected after all, and you knew his name and knew he'd be coming to Hateno. A little roadside reek shouldn't be a big surprise.

Yet. He couldn't shake the self-consciousness. The irrational fear that you'd look at him and expect more than what you got.

Like that old man who was actually a dead person. Like that Impa woman, and everyone in that little village she lived in.

For how quickly he'd steamrolled through the untamed wilds of Hyrule just to meet you, he was oddly reluctant to continue now that he was at your metaphoric (and soon literal) doorstep.

He glanced down at himself, taking himself in with a critical eye.

The Sheikah armor he wore (it had been under 10,000 rupees, he checked) was covered in dust, grim and the unflattering stains of sweat, dried bloody drool (from that unfortunate incident with the bokoblin horse), grass and meat grease. His hair was so filthy it was nearly brown despite that equally unfortunate incident with the octorok having put him in the water several times (strong inconsistent winds make aiming bows hard, he'd discovered).

Hopefully you wouldn't be disgusted. He hoped you understood that he wasn't- well-

He wasn't who he used to be. Apparently.

"Link." A flat voice called out, and Link nearly jumped to attention at the unexpected interruption. He nearly reached for his sword too, before he stopped himself.

When Link looked up and met dark gray eyes, his heart started to tightened.

'Is that you, AM?' His eyes asked earnestly, wide and round with quiet searching. For recognition. For understanding. For anything at all.

Instead he got a slow, dispassionate blink and confusion as the woman spoke into the silence between them. "AM instructed me to lead you home, Master Link."

Link pointed to himself. "Master?" He rasped out quietly, voice rough and unpleasant even to his own ears. Nothing to say for the pain it caused at the base of his throat.

Without missing a beat the young woman nodded once, the blue bandana holding her dark hair back catching slightly in the wind. Blue painted lips barely moving as she said. "Yes. I will explain more once we arrive at your home."

Link nodded, still uncertain but trusting enough of this strange woman who knew the name (Alis? Nickname? Title, perhaps?) of his sheikah slate partner.

Tomorrow, he would be given a small journal detailing many of the dangers and wonders of this beautiful, wild world he now lived in. And he wouldn't be so trusting anymore.

And he'd have bananas, apparently. So many bananas.

But that's for tomorrow. Today?

Today was the first time he walked across the old, but sturdy footbridge. The first time he glanced over at the shrine glowing faintly to his left, peeking from behind a small cluster of buildings.

It was the first day he stood on the threshold of his (and your) new home. The first time since awakening he felt the beginning of heartbreak as he realized you were not there to greet him. That you would not be living with him. Ever.

('For now,' He thought in quiet defiance.)

And the first time since he opened his eyes in that dark, eerily glowing shrine he felt loved. When his eyes adjusted to the darker light of the house and found a home waiting for him.

Not just an empty building with four walls and a bed, but a rug with pretty dark patterns under a heavy wooden table. A bowl of apples at its center, with thick candles at either side. An intricately sewn tablecloth just slightly hanging over the sides in delicate little weaves.

He felt loved when he walked around the front room, boot-heavy steps thumping softly on polished hardwood floors, slowly taking in the space (the blue woman waiting patiently at the door). The small wooden sculptures upon carefully arranged tables, cute and quirky banners and tapestries brightening up the dimly lit room (one was slightly lower than the rest, another was slightly off-center, and Link felt warm at the imperfections). Sunflowers, a bird, a rock formation, an apple tree, a cat with a bell.

A sword and shield rack. Two armor stands. A few weapon's plaque hanging above them.

The food in the kitchen pantry. Completely unnecessary, but for the way it made Link feel. The way it made his throat tighten and itch. The thought that this was put here because it was meant to be his home.

And so much more. So many things he couldn't even remember the uses for. So many bits and pieces that slot together into the jumbled mess that is a home. It was more than he had the heart to acknowledge without weeping.

Noticing his brewing turmoil, the blue woman spoke. "Perhaps a bath and bed before we speak of business. AM said you may be tired when you arrived."

Link nodded, unwilling to speak and risk his voice breaking entirely. Instead he allowed himself to be led to the washroom, holding back tears when he found bottles of sweet smelling soaps and hair cleansers on a small table beside a stool above a drain. A tub beside it all, shaped like a bowl but with a drain at the bottom and a water spout at the rim.

He looked to the blue woman, overwhelmed and dazed by the strength of his emotions.

Something in her softened at his lost expression. "Let me bath you, Master Link." She said, keeping her voice even, though her dark eyes were gentle. "Just until you learn how to do it yourself."

Link nodded. Quiet and trusting in his vulnerability.

She helped him undress. She made him sit on the stool as she gathered what she needed.

Her hands were so, so gentle as they brought a warm, wet towel over his dirtied, battered skin.

He nearly fell into a doze twice as she washed his hair three times until the suds came off white. He was only minimally aware of the strong (deceptively strong) hands that helped him into the tub. He nearly slumped into the side of the bowl, body completely lax within the warm, welcoming water.

He opened his eyes from one blink to the next and blankets (thick and soft, smelling of fresh soaps and linen) were being drawn over his shoulders. The pillow beneath him gave under the weight of his head, as did the mattress he laid upon.

Every part of him felt warm and soft and safe. He smelt like flowers and sweet nuts, his skin felt clean and supple under the tender caress of his nightclothes. The further dimming lights eased him further down into slumber.

"Rest well, Master Link. I will guard you as you sleep."

Link couldn't even bring himself to respond, lost as he was to the call to nothingness.

He was lost not long after.

"One day." The blue woman said softly, sitting beside the unconscious man with an amused smile. "I will teach you to identify sleeping oils before they reach you. But not tonight. For tonight you sleep. Tomorrow, you will learn to be wary."

She wiped her delicate finger tips across his relaxed forehead, a slight sheen left in their wake.

"Sweet dreams, Courageous One."

---

Link,

I apologize that I could not be there to greet you properly. However, after careful consideration I decided it would be safest for our paths to remain separate at this time.

Herein this text, you will find all relevant information I've amassed over the years regarding our world and the dangers within it. Including, but not limited to, the continued threat of the Yiga clan.

May you never have to make use of the less savory of this knowledge.

Yours truly,

AM

---

To the shadows I return.

[teecupangel]

I've had some thoughts on what elements(not really ATLA) fit Ezio, Altaïr, Desmond, Basim and Ratonhnhaké:ton(just a curiousity thing). And i think Fire fits Ezio alot. It burns fiercly and destroys things in it's path, but the aftermath leaves nurishing, lifebringing ash. It burns down forests, leaving it clear for new growth.

For Desmond it's definetly Water. He bends around the rock in the river, but also violently crushes into obstacles. If we include ice into water(which i often do, it just makes sense imo), it also fits with a slow, but guaranteed death. It can also cut and freezeburn anyone who touches it, who doesn't know it's dangers.

Altaïr is a bit trickier. He also fits Fire, but i also like the idea of him being Lightning. Violent, quick destruction, easily seen and recognised, often turning on it's wielder if improperly handled. But with the right amount, it leads to incredible technology, life altering in it's wonders.

Ratonhnhaké:ton i think is Earth or Wind. Earth is steady, lifegiving, solid. But it can also be devastating in it's power, shaking the very foundation of cities, tearing everything apart. Wind is similiar. Gentle, cooling breeze on a summers day or a warm wind in autumn, but it can also bring devestation. Storms, hurricanes and tornadoes. Tearing things apart, leaving destruction in it's wake, terrifyingly unstoppable.

Basim i think fits with Wind. He is very stubborn and willful in Mirage, like an incoming storm. And with the hallucinations, nightmares and the memories of Loki, he can probably go from a mild breeze to a hurricane in an instant, unstable in it's strength.

Idk about the others protaganists, i still haven't played most of the games(procrastenation is a bitch XD), but feel free to suggest your own ideas of other elements that could fit and how the elements can fit the other characters. ^^

So, before we get to the others, I feel like we should only focus on 5 main elements: Water, Fire, Earth, Wind and Lightning since that’s the elements you suggested.

I agree with their elements and I kinda like the idea of Ratonhnhaké:ton being Wind more than Earth because I want to suggest that we mess with Edward.

He gets the Earth element. Of course, the Water element is right there and it would certainly make sense for him to have a Water element as well but just imagine how funny it would be for Edward to have Earth element and he’s still a pirate. He’s gonna have to be creative and maybe bring a pouch of dirt with him. Or Jackdaw’s captain quarters have a minigarden. Edward having Earth element could work. Earth and plants in general can be stubborn sons of bitches that won’t die even when they’re out of their natural habitat (take dandelion growing on concrete for example). But Earth is also adaptable and steadfast.

I would also like to add, Basim is also like a fog (which is Wind adjacent) because of the secrets he hides in the ‘illusion’ called Basim (as someone who don’t even know it or as Loki who actively uses that facade)

Now, for the other protagonists:

Bayek would be Fire. He brings warmth and safety to those he loves and suffering and death to those against him. The rage and desire for vengeance burns inside him but, at the same time, it is that warmth that helped him move on and create a path forward.

Shay would be Lightning as well, his name as an Assassin hunter similar to the thunderous roar that warns those of his presence but not of where he would strike.

Arno is Wind. At the start, he is carefree summer breeze, just fleeting around and enjoying the life he has. Later on, he becomes a mist, present but not the center of attention, satisfied of being of service to the woman he loves. After her death, he becomes a brewing storm that could just as easily be destructive to himself and others.

Evie and Jacob. Now, these two… they would be Earth but of ‘different kinds’. Jacob would be more of a plant-based Earth elemental wielder, a symbol of his desire to make his own path, away from their father’s legacy. Evie, on the other hand, is more of a stone-based Earth elemental wielder, signifying the fortitude of her loyalty to their father’s legacy. Both of them are Earth because they both hold their grounds on the belief they have.

Kassandra is Fire, mainly because a lot of her abilities in the game had a fiery effect. Her destructive capabilities coincide with the destructive force of flames devouring everything it touches but it’s also those powers that could provide saftey and warmth to the people she loves.

[jellysimbean-blog]

So I came up with this new sims legacy challenge, i call it Wild apple tree. It consists of 10 generation and each gen has specifics to complete before moving forward. I haven't come up with the storyline between each generation just yet but other then that I think it's done. I feel i might have gotten a bit carried away and if i add more to each generation it might be a little to much but at the same time I feel it has room for improvement and new ideas so if anyone have any input please feel free to comment and let me know what you think.

(I'm hoping all the ideas I came up with are feasible and can be done I am still playing thru it)

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Wild apple tree sims legacy challenge

Basic Rules

- Each generation must have an apple tree. It may be the founders tree and gets carried thru each generation or it can be a new tree but the new tree must grow from an apple off the last generations tree.

- Heir for each generation can be either gender unless stated other wise

- No money Cheats (optional)

- Color for each generation is optional

- May live where ever you choose unless location is specified.

- Each generation needs to complete their aspiration(all aspirations are whatever you choose)

- Must have the Career that is listed for each generation

- If you play this challenge and want to share please use #Wildappletree so it can be seen

- HAVE FUN SIMMING!

** This legacy challenge is ofc for your entertainment, the number one goal is to have fun. If you choose not to follow any of the rules or you dont have the packs use then that is perfectly A ok and feel free to change things up however you prefer **

1.Blended family - Golden Orange

*Founder can be any gender

*Your founder must be a single parent

*He/she must marry another single parent

*Both single parents must have one or more kids from their previous relationships prior to meeting.

* After Marriage have at least one more child using science

*Next heir must be Science baby

*Next heir must have ambitious trait and do well in school

Career- Career of your choice to start

2. Science baby - Jonagold yellow

*Attend a university(which ever path you choose)

*Have only one child while In university

*Don't have another baby till you are an adult and ,half way through the Science Branch

*Master Logic Skill

*Master Robotics Skill (Optional)

*Master Rocket science

*Visit Sixam At least once

*Always join Next heir to high-school(Must meet future spouse)

Career- Scientist but of course

3.High school sweethearts - Pink Lady

*Heir must marry their High school sweetheart of course

*Try for baby every time you woohoo(optional)

*Have relationship fail but never divorce

*Heir alway attend the romantic festival

*Have a child from someone other then spouse after marriage(preferably a co-star)

*Try for baby with more then one sim in the same day/week

*One Sim must have a bad relationship with their children.

Career- Acting for both Heir and spouse (Must Join when ever they get a gig)

4.We're Adopting- Empire Purple

*First child must be from adoption (preferably as an infant)

* Must have at least one boy and one girl

* Next heir must be male ( can be the adopted sim)

*Live/ Move to sulani

*Master fishing

*Own at least 2 fish tanks

*Have your teens work as lifeguards

*Only leave the island to dig for bottles in Tartosa

*Best friend a mermaid

*Go diving at least once a week(Bonus finding mermaid kelp)

Career- Conservationist, the Marine Biologist Branch

5.Single dad - Cosmic Blue

*Live in an apartment

* Meet your girlfriend at a party or bar

*Must have a baby girl

*Have your girlfriend leave you after you have a girl.

*Must never marry or date again but Can woo-hoo around

*Must live with and have close relationship to adopted sibling. ( preferably both heir and next heir)

* Must Leave your daughter to be raised by your sibling before she becomes a teen.(you can choose to do this however you like.)

* you may have more then one child but your daughter must be next heir*

Career- Military Man (Either branch)

6.Raised by my aunt/uncle - Multi-colored Ambrosia

*Have a great relationship with your aunt/uncle

*Heir must be Female

*Heir starts this generation as a child

*Have a Bake sale as a child

*Have only one child by a one night stand(Can not take pregnancy test or keep trying with the same sim)

*Master Baking

*Sell your baked goods(You can do this with a yard sale table)

*Build your own bakery and work it part time(Optional)

*Cook Ambrosia(Optional)

Career- Critic career, Art Critic

7.Happy little accident - Fuji green

*Master painting skill

*Only paint landscape and photos you take(optional)

*Start an art club

*Have more then one baby

*Have loves outdoors trait

*Own at least one cat or dog

*Own at least 2 small pets (one must be a hedgehog)

*Own some chickens

*Have a drone to record and stream you when ever you are painting

*Upload your painting videos (Optional)

Career- Freelancer (Artist)

8.Soccer Mom/Dad - Arkansas Black and White

*Marry someone successful ( go dig for gold with this one)

*Must have at least 5 kids

*Travel at least once a week with all the kids for a fun day out ( just has to be somewhere outside of the house)

*Heir Can only make money from trendi (Other sims in the home can work however you choose including the children )

*Must help with any school project brought home and try to help with homework often

*Aspiration Super parent

*Celebrate all Holidays and birthdays

*Build a tree house

Career- Stay at home parent

9.Raised in a nursing home - Granny smith Grey

* Heir Must have more then one child

*Heir Must become Elder before last child becomes a teen

*All kids must be moved out once they hit young adults except the last child ( The Next Heir )

*When Heir is an elder they must rent rooms to at least 4 other Elders

*Have a game night ever Wednesday with the elders ( this includes bowling)

*Have dance night every Thursday with elders

*Master dancing

*Have Movie night every Friday (can be at home)

*Never have a real career( May make money any other way)

*Next heir can't move till they have at least 3 kids

Career- Job hop part time jobs. Call out of work at least once for each job. Quit/retire once you are an elder

10.Fullhouse - Red Delicious

*Must have at least 6 or more sims living together during the entire generation( 2 sims preferably Aunts/Uncles)

*Take a family vacation every season

*Throw a party every other weekend( Include at least one slumber party)

*Build a tree house

*Have Grandparents visit often(Include stay overs)

*2 Sims must master guitar

*All Sims must master comedy

*3 Sims must master singing

*1 Sim must master dj

Career- Entertainer(Both branches split between entire house)

[shu-box-puns]

I don’t know if you’ve ever played/seen the game Frontiers of Pandora, but can I just say I love the idea of Tsu’tey and Reader taking in the little Sarentu kids? Or at least Teylan if not all of them, considering he was the youngest of them when they were all taken and has no memory of his family before the RDA. Spider would be such a good brother to him, familiar enough with human stuff and physically being human himself to make Teylan feel comfortable, he’d be good at easing him into Navi culture along with Tsu’tey.

I am definitely planning to play Frontiers of Pandora the minute I can get my hands on it, but I do know a little bit of what goes on just because I'm a sucker at keeping myself spoiler free.

And from what I do know, I would definitely agree that the little Sarentu children would have a loving home amongst the Omaticayan clan. I can just see Tsu'tey setting eyes on them for the first time and immediately being like, "you're too small to be on your own out here." He does a little glance round and is like, "who managed to lose five children at once?" And of course he makes eye contact with his mate and immediately sees his own plan reflecting back at him in their expression. Whereas Spider looks intrigued by the little ones, and Tsu'tey already knows he's good with younger kids since he's so patient with Jake's little ankle biters.

SO, of course the solution is simple. Finders keepers.

Tsu'tey: "oh well, we all have two hands to spare, and surely five Na'vi children can't be more work than Spider was all on his own."

He takes two kids in hand. His mate takes two kids in hand. And because you mentioned him, I'm going to get Spider to help guide little Teylan out.

(Mo'at would be over the moon to have even MORE grandkids to love and spoil.)

Of course, I don't know a lot about the game, so if anyone has any ideas or wants to add to this little scenario, please feel free too! The more kids Tsu'tey ends up having to look after, the better I say :D

[cosmicghoul99]

An interesting Hannibal theory I think you should know about

I'm not sure how many people know this, but if you're unaware, some really interesting things relate to the show and Hannibal's character specifically. (Wanna add that I am not religious, so apologies if I get something wrong. I mean no offense to anyone, this is just a little analysis on my part)

There are a lot of biblical references in the show. It makes sense; religion has always been a deep, moral, and philosophical concept, and Hannibal loves to incorporate the ideas of religion and God into his actions and that of those around him. One of these references is a recurring one. Hannibal is often referred to as the devil. Like this quote from Gideon:

"You really are the devil," Abel Gideon - Antipasto

Or this one from Bedelia:

"Who holds the Devil, let him hold him well. He will hardly be caught a second time." Bedelia Du Maurier - The Wrath of the Lamb

Add this to all the religious imagery, the references to stags and the wendigo, plus the season three discussions about Dante. Bedelia says that she was "swallowed whole" by the beast at the mouth of Hell. You get the picture. There is a lot of talk and allusions to Hannibal being "the Devil."

Obviously, this is a metaphor first and largely used because he is the main "evil" or antagonistic character, but there's actually some truth to this.

Both Bryan Fuller, the creator, and Mads Mikkelsen, the actor of Hannibal, have stated that Hannibal is meant to be the literal devil. He is meant to be both a personification of the devil and the literal devil.

According to Bryan Fuller, Mads Mikkelsen plays Hannibal like he is Lucifer. In an interview, he stated that "he is as close as you can come to the Devil, in the sense that the Devil has no reasons," following it up by saying that Hannibal's reactions aren’t something of a person, but of the Devil. He intentionally plays the character through the lens of the fallen angel, Lucifer. Hannibal is meant to, in the eyes of the actor, be a manifestation of the Devil

Bryan Fuller has also said in interviews and online that he believes Hannibal is the devil. Of course, he states that this is his opinion and that others are up to their own interpretation, but the show's main creator and writer believes this also means that we can reasonably see this in the show.

Throughout the show, Hannibal is simply on another level. Many times, he does not seem human but rather otherworldly. I think that is where Mad's acting presents itself, alongside whenever Hannibal is talking about humanity and God.

Hannibal loves to play at being God and also criticizes God as well. I believe it is in episode three after Will kills Hobbs, that they discuss how Will killing Hobbs felt good. Hannibal responds with this.

"Killing must feel good to God, too... He does it all the time, and are we not created in His image?" Hannibal Lecter - Amuse-Bouche 

Oh boy. This is such an interesting line. He talks about being created in His image. Let's be honest; he speaks as if he were God or knows God at least. His comment actually makes more sense if you view this as him being the Devil. Lucifer, the fallen angel, was cast from Heaven for rebelling against God. He feels that it was unjust. Most people talking about God and His actions view him with benevolence. Hannibal does not. In the bible, Lucifer had a problem with humans. And humans are, of course, said to be created in God's image. You could also argue that angels, especially Lucifer, were created in that same image, too. Hannibal has an issue with the rude. Why the rude particular? It is because those who are rude often showcase the worst of humanity's attributes and free will. Hannibal despises the rude because I believe that it, in some ways, represents the hatred that the Devil, or Lucifer, holds for humanity. The Devil had an issue with humans gaining free will and felt they did not deserve life via God's hands. This is similar to how Hannibal feels that those who are rude do not deserve to live. Hannibal, then, of course, being Satan himself, would be resentful of God for casting him from Heaven. Again, Hannibal often discusses God's motives, or what God feels doing certain things. Literally, a few seconds later in that episode, he says this:

"Hannibal: God's terrific. He dropped a church roof on thirty-four of his worshippers last Wednesday night in Texas while they sang a hymn.

Will: Did God feel good about that?

Hannibal: He felt powerful." Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter - Amuse-Bouche 

That last line about him feeling powerful gets me thinking. Hannibal is speaking not just about this but also about his own fall. But more importantly, he's also showing us what he thinks of himself. Killing makes God feel powerful. That means that killing makes Hannibal feel powerful as well. He is both giving motives and somewhat criticizing God at the same time. Hannibal seems to find the situation amusing. I think he believes it quite funny that humans were killed while worshipping God. He might even see a comparison between what happened to him and what happened here. He is simultaneously praising God and calling Him a hypocrite.

Hannibal's motives for killing are also interesting, and I said earlier that I think the reason why he kills is because he believes that rude and ill-tempered people are the problem with humanity. And he wants to get rid of them.

Now, let's explore how this connects with other metaphors, his decisions in canon, and his relationship with Will.

Let's talk about the stag. I did some research, and in many religions, including Christianity, stags represent God and his might, at least from what I could find. I find this interesting because stags are also meant to represent opposition to the snake, another symbol of the Devil. Why is the representation of Hannibal, at least in Will's mind, a stag? I think it actually represents the darkening of Will. If stags are meant to represent good, then that means that Will starts off that way and then slowly follows the stag and is affected by it, which, to me, means that Will is slowly being corrupted. Just like the stag was corrupted due to Hannibal's influence, Will is starting to change and fall deeper and deeper into darkness. It's also interesting that the dynamic between Hannibal and Will is clearly that of one between the Devil and the person they are trying to tempt. Hannibal is trying to tempt Will into changing himself and embracing the darkness inside of him.

Will is Hannibal's realization that humans are actually not that bad. They are complex, and their free will actually makes them relate to him more than he thinks. Will is his weakness, and Hannibal is intrigued by him. If the Devil, which is Hannibal, is the snake, then, in Hannibal's own words, Will is the mongoose that preys on the snake. Hannibal originally fell because of humans, and at the end of the series, he falls because of humanity again. He fell for Will. Will is meant to represent the lamb of God. The symbolism is that Hannibal fell for Will, who sacrificed himself to keep the Devil away, getting corrupted in the process.

Dolarhyde is also a factor. The original painting, "The Great Red Dragon," represents Satan. How does that tie into this idea? I think it's not Dolarhyde who is meant to be Satan; rather, it is Hannibal. We know that Dolyrhde idolizes Hannibal in a sense. Like Will and many of his other patients, which I'll get into later, Francis is influenced by what Hannibal says. Yet another temptation by the Devil. This is also connected to Will coming into his own life because Francis is also manipulated by Will. There is a connection between Hannibal and Will, which is shared via the tempting and manipulation of Francis.

I mean, we have this statement by Jack talking about The dragon, the lamb, etc. Jack says that,

"He's not the Dragon, you are. The Devil himself bound in the pit." Jack Crawford

Hannibal compares Jack to God. But I think they both are, in some way.

Many of Hannibal's patients and the people in his life, in general, are manipulated by him. I mean, some of his patients are tempted and influenced by him to do bad things commit crimes, and murder people. That's very indicative of the Devil's work, in my opinion. Even Jack and Alana end up being manipulated and deceived by him.

There is a lot of other religious imagery and symbolism, so I'll only discuss some of it. To start with, the reference to Bedelia's presentation and Hannibal's name in Italy and what they could represent. I mentioned earlier that in season 3, Bedelia talks about her time in Florence with Hannibal. She talks about how Dante gave a physical space to Hell, a solid concept, but before that, people would say, the "mouth of Hell." Then she says that she was "swallowed by the beast." This refers to Hannibal, but here's the interesting thing. In the Bible, the Devil is also referred to as the Beast. Bedelia is yet again referring to herself being used and brought into the mouth of Hell by the Beast, Hannibal. The name that Hannibal was monikered by in Italy is also the same. "Il Mostro" translates to the monster, which can be interpreted as yet another way to refer to the devil. Then, there is the obvious references to lambs in the show, with it being a sacrificial symbol. I'm sure that's been talked about a lot, and I mentioned it earlier.

There are many mentions of justice, redemption, retribution, and more in the show. This connects with the religious themes, of course, but it also plays into Hannibal's view of himself as a God, as well as how the show depicts him as the Devil. He is the one who casts judgment onto people, like his patients, and onto the rude, like a God. He is the one who issues punishment for sins and misdeeds, like the Devil. I think it's so interesting to see them both working in tandem.

I once saw a post saying that Hannibal acts like he's lived the same life a hundred or so times. And I agree. He does. He acts like he has been around for a time so long that many have forgotten it. It makes sense why he's so confident, and nothing seems to phase him. Nothing that happens has any consequence for him. The only thing, really, that he cares about is Will. That's why he tries to get Will to have his Becoming and Fall with him. He wants Will to be there with him. Which is sweet, I think :) And not to bring up related trauma for anyone that has ever been a fan of Devilman or Devilman Crybaby, but IMO, it really really reminds me of Akira and Ryo and how Ryo is stuck in the same cycle over and over again as a lesson. Idk, my opinion. Let me know what you think.

I also wanted to touch on some other interpretations of the raven stag shown alongside the wendigo and how other religions and beliefs might relate to this.

The Wendigo is a demonic entity or evil spirit from the Algonquian people of Canada. It is a winter spirit that is meant to represent greed and gluttony. When humans succumb to greed, like being greedy for money, being cruel to people, or generally evil things, the Wendigo spirit can possess you. During harsh winters, when food is scarce, people commit taboo acts and consume another human, participating in cannibalism. This also causes a possession and turns this person into a wendigo, never to be satisfied and constantly craving forever. I am not Algonquian, or even Indigenous/Native American, so I can't speak too much on this, and I don't know too much, but I hope I explained it well enough. I apologize if I did not. The show has its own visualization of this, and Wendigos traditionally doesn't look like the one in the show, but the overall message is the same. Even if Hannibal is not the Devil, he could be some manifestation of a Wendigo. It makes sense. Remember his back story? He was forced into captivity while hiding by soldiers during an extremely harsh winter during the war. Harsh enough that food became scarce, and the soldiers had to resort to cannibalism. They fed Mischa to Hannibal, which might have triggered something. Ofc this is a reach, but I did want to bring another interpretation into this.

Obviously, this is all just speculation. I love this show, with its dark complexities and incredible depth, and I wanted to talk about something I've been thinking about for a while now. Again, not everything might be correct. I apologize if that's not the case. Please feel free to correct me. I also apologize if this made no sense or was not cohesive, it's pretty late for me, but I couldn't get this out of my head.

I hope it was interesting ;)

[ineffable-endearments]

From "And furthermore, I don't think it's our place to start suggesting that there should be a suggestion box!"

I'm not even entertaining the idea that anyone else could possibly have ideas more worthwhile than whatever Heaven's upper brass is telling me God wants. The System is perfect.

to "You can't judge the Almighty, Crawley."

OK, so not everything God does makes moral sense, but that's just because it's too ineffable for us to understand.

to "I don't think that's what God wants. And I don't think you want it, either."

I don't always believe Heaven is right. Something in me is incompatible with the System. I'm hoping there's a greater good than the bureaucracy I work for.

to "I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley."

I'm tacitly admitting that I don't like what Heaven is doing here, but I'm powerless within the System.

to "If I were thwarting you, Heaven couldn't object!"

You've helped me believe Armageddon isn't part of the Ineffable Plan after all. Now I believe I CAN do something to stop it.

to "I have no intention of fighting in any war!"

I'm making my own personal decision here, without consideration for what the System wants.

to "I can make a difference!"

I'm certain that I personally have ideas more worthwhile than the rest of Heaven. I can change the System.

The growth is happening. I know it's slow (well, if you're a human, anyway), but it's happening.

I am wondering if this character development is going to work like a huge outward (inward?) spiral. Take steps to add a new perspective, then use that to start working on the next Big Problem, then circle back to the old problems and start dealing with them with the new perspective. Things are kind of circular, but on a different level every time, hence the spiral.

The first three are like: Refuse questioning Heaven's judgment on moral grounds -> Accept that some questioning is natural but God/Heaven are always right -> Accept that maybe my personal judgment is not always compatible with Heaven's. OK, now I've tentatively accepted that I have my own morality outside of Heaven's, but that is SO uncomfortable.

The second three are like: I have my own moral judgments, but I have no way to enforce them because of what is expected of me -> Maybe there is room for my own judgment in Heaven after all -> Actually, my judgment is important enough to refuse to do what is expected of me regardless of anyone else's Plans. OK, now Aziraphale can use his own judgment within the System.

And I don't know for sure, but maybe - hopefully? - the last three will be like: I trust my own judgment -> My judgment never succeeds when I try to force it on others -> Everyone needs to be free from coercion and I'm going to help that happen by doing things to undermine the System.

That last bit is written with an assumption that the Ball and Gabriel and Beelzebub's ultimate decision are a little bit of foreshadowing: Aziraphale seizing control in a way that is sort of scary, having a bunch of Experiences(TM) with other people including Crowley, then realizing that the only reasonable way to handle people "outside the system" is to let them do what they want. If that's NOT foreshadowing, or if it's different foreshadowing than what I think it's going to be, obviously this is completely off.

Also, I feel like if I'm right, this could illuminate the horrible things Aziraphale says in the Final Fifteen a little bit. I believe he has moved up slightly from thinking Good and Evil are absolutely inherent and immutable, and now believes they are literally Sides that can be chosen. Of course you wouldn't choose to work for the side that has explicitly characterized itself as Bad, even though we both know you didn't have a choice to start with! I'm giving you a choice now! He hasn't "gone backwards." It's just that he's embraced the "doing good is a choice" lesson without internalizing the "you can't divide people into Sides and enforce it using a system" lesson.

[forever-will-last]

Mean Girls Fanfic Gift Exchange!

A few of us in the fandom are organizing an AO3 gift exchange for Mean Girls Day (October 3rd)! If you would like to participate, check out the link above! Rules are below, and FAQs are under the cut!

Rules:

1. All works must be centered around Mean Girls. You may add side fandoms or center around specific renditions of it (2004, Broadway, Tour, 2024, etc) but it must be around the Mean Girls Universe.

2. All gift fics must be at least 500 words in length. There is no maximum limit on words, so go wild!

3. If you don’t think you’re able to finish a work, please contact one of the mods. This is in order to prevent people from not getting anything gifted.

4. All gift art must be fully finished. Submissions of only partially completed works will be removed.

5. All gifters must respect their giftee's triggers/DNWs. Any gift fics submitted that contain content that was specifically marked as triggering or unwanted by the giftee will be deleted, and you will be removed from the challenge.

Q: I’m not in the Discord Server, can I participate?

Of course! Anyone in the fandom can participate. But! If you want to join, feel free to ask us for a link.

Q: What do I have to do to participate?

You must send a request of something you want someone to make a work about, and do an offer for a piece you're willing to work on. Everyone must do at least one work and will receive at least one work.

Q: Do I need to have two separate requests for my sign-up?

A: No. You are allowed to submit up to two so your gifter has the ability to choose a prompt they feel most confident creating a gift for. You are welcome to submit only one. We can only guarantee at least one request to be fulfilled.

Q: When are the gifts due?

A: Your gift must be submitted by Oct 3rd, 2024.

Q: Can I create a gift for more than one of my giftee's requests?

A: Yes. You can put up to two offers and in case there’s a match, you can do up to two works.

Q: Do my request prompts have to be specific?

A: No. Your prompts can be anything you would like, from one word up to a summary for a complex plot idea.

Q: What is an offer, and what do I put in it?

A: Your offer is where you list what kind of gift you would like to make, and what your limitations are. Any pairing you list, for example, is one you are offering to write/draw/etc. Be specific about what you will and will not create in the offer description as this will help to better match you with a giftee. You can post up to two offers with different limitations.

Q: Can I create art rather than writing a fic?

A: Yes. However, if you create art, you must post it on AO3 so completion of your assignment can be verified. If you need help with how to do this, please contact Belén.

Q: If I want to add another request to my sign-up/edit one of my requests, can I?

A: Yes. If you go to your AO3 dashboard, select "My Sign-Ups," and click on this challenge, you will be able to add to or edit your requests and offer until the sign-up period closes at 12:00 AM EDT September 10th, 2024.

For any other question, feel free to contact any of the mods! @forever-will-last @pinkkrypto @acetone4veins @chisamayas!!!

[leadpoisioning]

Studying

Rowan Laslow x Fem!Reader

SMUT (18+)((public sex, fingering, telekinesis play, breath play, choking, hair pulling, minor oral if you squint))

Word Count: 1,338

Rowan really needs to study and you have other needs that need attending to- but he doesn’t let your temptation get in the way, he’ll take care of you afterwards.

“Please? I’ll actually help you study, I promise.” You sigh, leaning on the desk Rowan currently sits at. He scoots away from the notes and looks at you suspiciously before the look dissolves.

“Well, you are good at this. Lets go.” He stands, gathering his things into his bag before pulling you along to the library to make use of the books there and study.

Of course, you had other ideas Rowan was unaware of.

“So what don’t you understand?” You ask, really selling the idea you wanted to help him at the moment. You set down your notebook for him to flip through and turn on the light at the desk near the back of the library. No one ever really came in here to study, but you had a feeling Rowan didn’t really know that yet. He didn’t really socialize with anyone besides you and Xavier, so a lot of gossip that didn’t come from either of you never made it to him. You fill the empty seat next to Rowan and open your book to the page with some notes on it.

“Oh, I missed this lecture- that’s why I wasn’t getting it.” He chuckles, copying the notes down. You hum in response, simply admiring the way his glasses fall on the slope of his nose, the strand of hair he keeps having to stroke out of the way.

“I’m going to get another book, there was this really good one that helped me understand more.” He nods, appreciative of your efforts- little did he know this would be that last one you offered before you set your ulterior motive into action. You find the book and walk back over to the desk. He looks up at you as you set it down, and set yourself down on his lap.

“I- (Y/N)? What are you doing?” He asks, hands placing themselves on your hips.

“Helping you study.” He’s not satisfied with your answer and goes to move you back to your own seat. You don’t budge, so Rowan tries something new. He leans up to your ear.

“If you don’t get up and wait patiently for me to get done studying, you won’t be getting anything.” The force behind his words moves something in you. The force moving you to the next seat over does also.

His words replay in your mind, over and over until the loud slam of his book closing brings you back.

“Bend over the desk.” He slides his things out of the way, making space for you to slide between his seated figure and the desk. You do as your told, liking this new side of Rowan you’d accidentally discovered. He would never admit it out loud, but he’d been imagining the sight before him for weeks. The racy thought of him inside of you in the library was a reoccurring dream he was just looking to make into a reality.

Rowan takes a spritz of his inhaler. He can’t hold himself back anymore and starts sliding his hands up and down the backs of your thighs. After giving them a few squeezes, he works your pants and underwear down your legs. Immediately, his hand finds its place in between your folds, sliding his fingers back and forth to collect the wetness that had gathered after he’d reprimanded you earlier. You push back against his hand, only to be corrected by his invisible force. He swirls a digit around your hole before pushing in, standing up to get better physical leverage over you. You moan out as he adds another finger and scissors them inside of your cunt, moving them faster in and out.

“You have to be quiet, can you do that for me?” He asks condescendingly. You nod and he hums, not really believing you.

After he’s had enough fun finger fucking you, he steps back to pull his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free. He takes it into his hand and jerks it, teasing your hole while pleasing himself.

“Please.” You whine, pressing against the desk. A force wraps itself around your hair and pulls you flush against Rowan’s chest. One of his hands moves to your hip while the other makes its way to your mouth, covering it to ensure your silence. It wasn’t only for silence, though. He liked watching you huff against him when he partially took away your ability to breathe. He eases his tip into your wet cunt, feeling you moan into his hand while huffing out in relief through your nose. He slides deeper, bottoming out.

He presses you against the desk again, this time finding his place leaned over you. He stays still for a moment, graciously allowing you time to adjust to his cock. He was large, it’s always the quiet ones. You’re glad he decided to cover your mouth, getting caught in the library would surely be a referral to Weems. The very thought of it made you clench around Rowan, causing him to groan right into your ear. He covers your nose as you choke against his hand, liking it entirely too much. You knew reading minds was not one of his powers, but with you he always knew what you were thinking.

“Such a dirty girl for me. Needing me in the library of all places.” You whimper at his words, and the feeling of him pulling out to the tip, before thrusting back inside. He continues the pace while holding your hip and mouth with his hands, his telekinesis keeping your hair out of your face as he fucks you from behind.

“You love this don’t you? Probably had a whole plan to seduce me, all just to get me to bend you over this desk. Am I right?” He spits, you nod quickly, tears forming at the intense pleasure he brings by grinding into you. Pleased with your answer he thrusts faster, hitting deep inside of your cunt. He spreads your legs a little further apart, bringing another branch of his telekinesis to rest against your clit. You gasp inwardly at the sensation and press yourself further against the desk in response. Rowan grins at your reactiveness and starts circling your clit, eventually speeding up. Your hips move back against his before being corrected by his force again. “You better be a good girl, stay still.” He warns, pausing for a moment. You murmur against his hand as he restarts his thrusts.

The desk gently rocks against the floor the harder Rowan slams into you, he’s close. You hear the familiar spritz of his inhaler.

“Where do you want me?” He asks, removing his hand. You take a deep breath, finally being able to really breathe.

“Fuck, inside of me please, Rowan.” You moan, he quickly slaps his hand back into place before rutting into you faster. His force on your clit matches the pace he’s set thrusting into you, and you lose it. You’re grateful for his hand clamped around your lips. The feeling of him on top of you and inside of your pussy is too much. You feel your stomach tighten before promptly releasing over his cock. You relish in the guttural groan he lets out in your ear as he cums inside of you, warmly filling you up.

His hands and telekinesis are removed from your body for the most part as he pulls out of you gently.

“So dirty for me.” He kisses you passionately while turning you to face him. You quickly kiss him back, clinging to his jacket.

“Only for you.” He groans at the words and kisses you again before putting himself back into his pants. He leans you against the desk as he cleans you up, licking what he can from your pussy before pulling your own pants back up.

“If you’re good the rest of the day, we can do this again later.” You grin at his words and nod, helping him gather his things back into his bag.