paul-cotoni

[nahualnextdoor]

Character Analysis for Shitpost's Sake (long post; tw suicide discussion):

A funny haha, a whimsy silly image. Something I did in like 10 minutes...

Well behind the scenes I spent an entire night dissecting every episode and book paragraph in my head just to see what box fits what character (I take my silly guys very seriously and my shitposts should represent their characterizations accurately otherwise I'll kill myself).

So, here we go.

Active suicide risk: (literally anyone except Cleo and Six)

-Resus: Pretty obvious and intuitive in my opinion. Our favorite trans allegory emo boy that literally sleeps in a coffin. Hates pretty much every aspect of his life, thinks he's a disappointment to his family simply for existing (and sadly kinda is), and is pretty much fine with death as a whole (most of his friends already went trough it, after all).

-Luke: This one was also pretty obvious in my opinion. While not as clear cut or active as Resus, there was this one time where he decided to banish himself to the Underlands, no hesitation, as soon as he found out (or rather was made to believe) he attacked his parent. He's very often ostracizing himself over his lycanthropy hurting those around him, and for the major part of the book series he believed himself to be a burden for his parents. (Also he has like. Zero sense of self-preservation, at least in the tv show).

-Luella: Oh boy. Where do I begin with you girl. Just her living situation alone is sad enough, add in her attachment issues, her lack of control over her emotions, her crush on a guy that treats her... horribly, and her lack of any meaningful friendship in her life up until she became bffs with Cleo in s2. Honestly I'm just glad that by the end of s2 she's mostly content with her life the way it is, but still... at least on the episodes before she got her shit together, I'd say she's kinda worrying.

-Dixon: Yeah this guy's life is just hell lol. I'm not really getting any suicidal vibes out of him, but it is more than plausible.

10/10:

-Cleo: She's just... I love her 🙏🙏 Badass, one of the most interesting characters of the tv show in my opinion, autistic as fuck (they all are, but she's the one I relate to the most), curses the entire town in order to fix her problems and is pretty much happy despite being in an eternal sisyphean cycle.

Needs to retake the am I gay quiz:

-Resus: self explanatory I think. He really needs to get his shit together because I just cannot tolerate when he's all over Luella "oh luella I need your help with this spell and also brain drain dumped me in a wet cardboard box and killed my grandma 🥺🥺" and then going "well thanks for nothing, fuck u and ur stupid useless magic, also even tho we're nothing I will get all possessive over u at the slightest possibility of u liking Luke hey can we kiss to save the world btw" She deserves so much better than him omg. Boy you're queer!!! Leave her alone and just stay with the werewolf!!!

Cannibalised first in plane crash scenario:

-Resus: I just thought this was funny lol

Adderal prescription ASAP:

-Luke: Also pretty self explanatory. Lycantrophy is the magical equivalent of autism and adhd in this universe, I don't make the rules. Both in the books and in the show he's shown having a hard time focusing on class, finding it easier to just focus on his videogames. He spends hours playing on his console, to the point of ignoring his baisc needs, and is pretty hyperactive in my opinion, at least in the show. Really I wish they'd bring back the idea of Eeafa (or maybe even Luella) figuring out a potion or spell to help him manage his wild side, wich, to me at least, is not only his wolf self, but all of his neurodivergent tendencies in general (basically it would be magical meds that makes you have more control over the wolf form on top helping you study).

Missing person:

-Pretty much all the other kids from the books but I choose Kian because he's kinda the one that has the most relevance and the only one with an available image on the internet that is not a 3 pixels wide scan on the Internet Archive (still love them tho). He could potentially be on active suicide risk once he gets old enough to understand what happened to his parents tho, but thinking about that for more than 5 seconds makes me cry so I prefer not to.

And that is basically it! Thank you for listening to my ramblings and analysis of these silly little guys that keep rotating on my head like rotisserie chicken ballerinas. Next will probably be my still pending character analysis for why I assigned the slimes I did on my slime rancher post.

[teastarfall]

hey guys! fun fact! LN2 will have its 3rd anniversary in like 2 months… i am in tears,,, i need to sit down…. huh

d,,drawings for now..

[zylev-blog]

Danny was pissed. He was chilling in the Speedforce, waiting on his dad—the Flash—to show up when he felt something shift around him. He exited the speedforce to find that the timeline had changed again, and he had been written out of the timeline. He technically was a time anomaly now, and didn’t exist. So he talked to Clockwork, a ghost he’d gotten to know extremely well after Danny’s creation.

Danny was a clone of the Flash and Green Lantern(Hal Jordan) as part of an experiment that Lex Luthor had taken prior to cloning Superboy. Lex had wanted to know if the power ring was able to transmit anything genetically (it couldn’t. It was a wearable weapon, not a genetic thing.) but Danny had inherited Flash’s superspeed, so he wasn’t a complete loss. Danny wasn’t sure if he looked more like either man, considering they both wore masks. He had brown hair and green eyes. Beyond that, he tanned well, was tall for his age, and packed on muscle far easier than the Flash did. He hadn’t ever seen either man out of the costume.

After a talk with Clockwork, he decided he was just going to force his way back into his Dad’s life. Both of them, if possible. He arrived years before his creation by mistake, right near the start of the Justice League. By his estimates, the team had only been formed for a year before he’d arrived. It was strange; he both didn’t exist and was from the future. He guessed that it was around nine years before his birth, and since he was technically six months old, he was 9 years in the past. Thinking about this was going to give him a headache.

The Justice League was severely mistrustful of each other. They didn’t go out of their way for teamups, didn’t have weekly meetings, and almost pretended if the other members didn’t exist. The most recluse of them was Batman, of course. If any hero set foot in Gotham, they were booted out before they even got to downtown. Danny highly suspected Batman had the entire city on camera. The situation was weirding him out more than before. What had happened to the team?! He was used to everyone being one big family, and even the sidekicks having their own teams… speaking of sidekicks, why was Robin so small?! Wait a minute, that wasn’t the third Robin that he was used to, that was the first Robin! Baby Nightwing!

Thankfully for him, he still had his costume on this entire time as he zipped around the country, spying on the younger members of the Justice League. It was surreal watching everyone try to capture him, but he wasn’t going to be caught that easily!

Eventually his presence forced the Justice League into another teamup. Batman laid the trap out, and Flash lured him into it. The plan was so beautiful that he didn’t even realize it was a trap until he was caught in it. Green Lantern took off Danny’s mask, and for the first time, he looked at his fathers without a mask. They didn’t make the connection to him right away. It wasn’t until Wonder Woman’s lasso made its way around his wrist that the truth finally came out.

“Who are you?” Wonder Woman asked.

“Oof , hard question—ow ow oww—I’m being honest!” He struggled against the lasso as it started to burn him. “My designation was Dn-y, I go by Danny, though. I’m a clone.”

“Of who?” Batman demanded.

“Flash and Green Lantern.” The lasso was glowing brightly, indicating that he was telling the truth.

“How did you escape?” Flash asked.

He didn’t answer right away. He was trying to think about how to phrase the whole time traveling—timeline erasure thing when the lasso started to burn him again. “Ow ow! Sorry, I’m thinking! Ow! Turn down the settings on that thing, holy shit—okay, okay.” He winced, his words coming out in one breath as he quickly talked, “What do you know about time travel?”

Diana’s eyebrows were rising. “How are you able to resist the lasso for so long?”

“I’m not really resisting it.” He answered, noting the obvious deflect of his last question, “I just-oww—okay! My mind moves too fast for me to put into words sometimes and it makes me stop to think about it, but like, I’m not good at controlling the speed in which I speak all the time—owww make this thing stop burning me! I’m speaking honestly!”

Diana revoked the lasso, and he rubbed his wrist where his costume was starting to singe. He was still trapped in an anti-speedster prison, so it wasn’t exactly like he was going anywhere anyway.

“Why were you asking about time travel?” Batman asked.

“Based on the crickets chirping I heard earlier, that leads me to believe you guys haven’t had any experience in it yet.” He leaned against the wall of the prison, wincing as it shocked him with electricity. “Seriously? How paranoid are you, Batman?” He rubbed his shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting with you people, but I feel so attacked right now.”

“So we have experience with it in the future?” Superman piped up.

“Yeah?” His tone of voice equated to a ‘duh’ tone. “Why would I ask what you knew if I wasn’t from the future?”

“How far in the future are you from?” Green Lantern asked.

“Nine years, maybe close to ten? Timelines are weird. I’m technically six months old, but at the same time I’m sixteen. Cloning is odd, but I was like, the first clone ever, so I don’t really have a basis for this sort of thing, if you catch my drift.” He shrugged. He seemed like he talked a lot more than the heroes did, but he didn’t know if that was because he was a chatterbox, or because they weren’t comfortable in each other’s presence. Either way, the silence was odd to him.

“How did you end up here?” Batman asked.

“Honestly? I don’t fully know. Don’t give me that look, Diana! I’m telling the truth.” He added quickly as Diana fingered her lasso again. “All I know is one minute, I’m chilling in the Speedforce, and the next, the timeline is changed and I’m nine years too early for my birth. You’d think the timeline would at least have the decency to spit me out in my own year, but nooo, it wanted to—“

“What’s the Speedforce?” Superman interrupted.

He tilted his head at Superman’s question, then turned to the Flash. “How long have you had your powers?”

Flash shifted uncomfortably. “Two years.”

“Oh boy.” Danny’s green eyes widened. “You don’t know anything about them, do you?”

“I do know things!” Flash deflected, “My suit doesn’t catch on fire anymore! I can run up to Mach 2! I can get from either end of the country in thirty minutes!”

He groaned loudly. “Oh no. Oh no.” He chewed on his thumb, trying to recall everything he’d learned about his powers from his Flash. While he hadn’t learned his or Green Lantern’s identity yet, he knew almost everything about their hero personas and a lot of personal information. They were just worried of the Cadmus connection and didn’t want their identity to fall into the wrong hands if they still could see inside of Danny’s head.

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

“Okay.” He ran his hands through his brown hair, making it spike up. “Hypothetically—“ he cut himself off as Batman glared at him. “Okay, totally real, but uh, Flash, let’s just say that I’m faster than you right now. A lot faster.”

“How much?” Flash took a step forward, obviously curious.

“From what we can tell, I’ve topped out at Mach nine.” He responded with a dry laugh, “But your speed was still a lot faster than mine. You’d never tell me what it was. I’m still growing though, and I’m getting faster. I’m able to beat my precious time by almost double each time we test. But my situation was complicated, and things were happening, and it was a mess.”

“Like what?” Superman asked.

“World war three. I think?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that he had picked up from Green Lantern, “Things got complicated. That’s why I was going to wait for…” his eyebrows scrunched together as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “It was you!” He turned to Flash. “You!” He jabbed a finger at the speedster. “You set this up! You set ME up!”

The heroes took fighting stances, but Superman took a step forward, blocking them from Danny. “What are you talking about?”

“Okay okay.” He was trying to calm down his anger, but he had been told by Green Lantern in the past that he had inherited the man’s anger issues. “Let me start at the beginning. This is going to be a long story, you might want to take a seat.”

Nobody moved, but everyone was tense.

“Or not. Okay. So my creation starts with Lex Luthor.” He noticed Superman stiffen. “He used me as his trial, if you will. Once he got a successful attempt at cloning—me—he moved onto his real target. Cloning Superman.” Danny’s green eyes hovered onto Superman’s blue ones. “He was successful.”

“What happened?” Superman’s voice was unnaturally quiet.

“Well, at first, Conner wasn’t showing that he had all the powers of Superman. So Lex tossed him aside and tried again. The second attempt was more successful than the first. But cloning Kryptonian dna was hard, I guess.” He shrugged. “The second clone lacked basic emotions. Empathy, remorse… it made him the perfect little weapon for Lex. But eventually, the clone’s anger and Lex’s greed got to a point of no return. Lex was elected President of the United States and uh…you can probably see where this is going, right? While the fighting hadn’t like…’officially’ started,” He used his fingers to create air quotes around the word ‘officially’, “Things were getting tense. See, we couldn’t take the clone down because Lex had wrote out the Kryptonite deficiency out of his weakness. And the clone had all the strength of Superman and none of his remorse…”

Superman looked pale. “I see.”

“So Flash and I came up with a plan.” He turned back to his father, “We were going to travel into the next dimension for help. From what we could tell, that dimension was full of god-like beings, and one of them actually helped me out earlier! But for a lot of them, they ask for a price for their help. But anyway, Flash and I were going to take our case to the King and plead for help. I was waiting for Flash when the timeline reset and I found out that not only did I not exist, but I was nine years too early.”

“What are you going to do now?” Green Lantern asked.

“Dunno,” His voice dropped as the reality hit him. He wasn’t going home—his home didn’t exist anymore.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

The Winner

✰ stanford!art donaldson x stanford!f!reader

✰ word count : 1.0k

✰ summary : you never get tired of being art donaldson's girl, especially when you get to reward him for his win later that night.

✰ warnings: kissing, allusions to smut, minors dni, 18+, tashi erasure (i'm sorry), art is happy LOL.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ art donaldson m.list

⋆ gif by @supersoldierslover

Your professor’s monotone voice was the cherry on top of your already long day. Scheduling back-to-back lectures right before Art’s game days wasn’t ideal, but you made it work. You’re grateful to not play a sport while also engaging in academics. There have been countless nights spent in the library with Art, going over his notes because his practice in the afternoon tends to run late, pushing his homework time to the late hours of the night. 

With your head resting on your hand, another yawn is pulled from your body. A buzz from your back pocket jolts you awake, causing an embarrassing heat to flood your face. Quietly, you reach for your phone and check the message that almost gave you a heart attack. 

artie <3: I saved you a spot! My bag should be on the seat, and there’s a snack in there for you. 

You smile at the text. 

you: I’ll be out of class soon! I love you, superstar. 

artie <3: I love you!

And with the clock striking six thirty in the afternoon, you jump out of your seat and rush to the courts. Determination is written across your face as you frantically rush to the spot Art had saved for you that’s right at the front. Sure enough, a granola bar is inside his bag. 

It only takes a few minutes before Art makes his entrance on the court, his eyes automatically searching for you. Even after months of dating, spotting him made your heart race. He’s so captivating in the way he moves, especially when he plays. 

But even as he’s approaching you, you’re stuck in a daze. “Hi, pretty girl,” his voice carries a smile through it, something you’ve always appreciated. You lean over the fence and give him a kiss, his hand coming to the side of your face as if he wants to pull you impossibly closer to his touch. 

Taking his other hand in yours, you can feel that his palm is slightly clammy, “Are you nervous? You shouldn’t be.” 

He huffed a laugh and looked down because his ‘tough guy’ act didn’t slide past you. “I’m always nervous when you watch me play,” he admits, a rosy blush fluttering over his cheeks. 

You squeeze his hand once, an unspoken form of reassurement. “Don’t be,” you smile, “I’m your number one fan.” You joke, but not really.

With one last kiss, he leaves to play the game you’ve watched him perfect for the past few years. And though he’s hitting the ball to his opponent, you can’t help but focus on your boyfriend. The muscles in his arm flex with each movement as the sweat drips down his forehead, causing him to pull the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the perspiration away. Giving you, and the girls behind you, a perfect view of the cut of his abdomen leading down to the waistband of his shorts. 

Of course, you knew Art was attractive, and pair that with him being the best man on the team, he’s bound to receive attention. At first, the constant gawks and inappropriate comments towards him made your blood boil. You couldn’t stand the sight of the girls throwing themselves at your boyfriend, but now, you’ve learned to use them to your advantage. 

Before dating Art, there was no way you would purposely put yourself out there. Going to parties and bars wasn’t your favorite way to spend Friday nights, but now, you’re forced to embrace the spotlight just by being associated with Stanford's star tennis player. 

Art always has you by his side, an arm snaked around your waist as he greets friends at social gatherings. It took a while to get used to, but you wouldn’t have it any other way with Art by your side. 

Leaning back in your seat, you enjoy the Spring sun as you watch Art’s match unfold. And with the girls behind you giggling at your boyfriend, you smile. You smile because you know you’ve won.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

With Art’s opponent hitting the ball out, that was the match; an easy victory for Stanford. You rise to your feet and smile while applauding. Slinging Art’s bag over your shoulder, you unapologetically flaunt the embroidered stitching writing, ‘DONALDSON’ towards the girls behind you before walking off. 

You make your way to the exit of the locker room as you wait for Art to appear. You make casual conversation with the people around you, mostly friends and family of the other players, when some of them start to come out. Slowly, but surely, you see the mess of dirty blond hair push open the door, a smirk coming to your lips. 

He puts his classic red hat on backward before engulfing you in a hug, picking you up off of your feet, and spinning you in a circle. You giggle as you find your footing on the pavement below you, “See? There's no need to be nervous when I watch. You crushed it, baby.” 

“Maybe you’re my good luck charm,” he suggests, pulling away before he grabs your hand, leading the both of you to his dorm—a stupid boyish smile on his face. 

You brush off the feeling of his cock pressed into your thigh as he spun you as you let him lead you to his place, “Is this you subtly asking that I come to every single one of your matches?” 

“Hmm,” that smile never faded from his mouth, “maybe?” 

“Are you going to prove to me why I should? Or are you going to keep subtly flirting with me until I’m the one that has to beg for you to fuck me?” 

Your question surprises him and causes him to quicken his pace as you laugh behind him. He’s dragging you to his room, and you won’t stop him. Not after his big victory, he deserves to feel good tonight. 

⋆ author's note: ANOTHER ART FIC BECAUSE I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF HIM!!!! thank you for all the love on the last few art fics!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog this work if you loved it!! ok, ily byeeee!!!

[nishayuro]

can i request a Imagine how was the villain league invasion with gojo! reader in this episode

My Hero Academia with a Gojo! Reader during the LOV’s USJ invasion

A/N: thank you for this request!! I’ve had many thoughts about it but had no idea how to word them lmaoo, hope this does the scene justice. Also sooo sorry I took so long for a part two 

GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst if you squint, hurt/comfort (i guess??)

based off of this

You all entered the bus after Aiwaza sensei said that you’ll have training somewhere, you sat beside Midoriya.

When they were talking about quirks and Asui mentioned that Midoriya’s quirk was similar to All Might’s, you used your six eyes to analyse Izuku. ‘Hmm, she’s not wrong… ‘ you thought

Kirishima was talking about how flashy quirk havers were lucky because they were what makes heroes more famous. 

“If you want someone strong and flashy, then it’s definitely Todoroki, Bakugo and Gojo!” Kirishima said, the half and half haired one was asleep while the blonde grumbled at the comment. “Bakugo is explosive. I feel like he won’t be popular” Asui replied, “say that again, you jerk! I’ll have fans!” Bakugo answered angrily. They continued to taunt the blonde while you watched, amused at the scene. 

“I feel like Gojo-san will be one of the popular pro heroes! Their quirk is strong and flashy and they’re also attractive!” Kaminari pointed out, “ehehe, you think so?” you replied. “Yeah! Aside from your dad being one of the most famous pro heroes of all time, you’re definitely strong enough to reach top charts!” Ashido added. “You all flatter me,” you replied, smiling at them. 

When you reached the venue, you were welcomed by pro hero Thirteen who also introduced you all to the USJ training ground and also explained her quirk to you all. 

As introductions went on, you began to notice something off. Immediately exchanging your black out glasses for blindfolds. 

You were now on high alert, you started scanning the area with six eyes, looking for anything that seemed out of the ordinary, that's when you noticed energy building up in the centre of the arena. 

“Aizawa sensei…” you said, voice void of the usual cheerfulness, alerting the teacher and immediately sensing something wrong. When you all looked towards the centre, a portal appeared and out came villains, shocking your classmates and the pro heroes. 

 Aizawa got into a fighting stance, mirroring him as you got ready to engage. You know full well that if these villains were able to bypass the U.A's strict security system, they were somewhat of a real deal. 

“Y/N, you have experience?” Aizawa asked, you gave him a nod. “Yeah, dad likes immersive and visual teaching so he’d bring me to missions. I can handle, don’t worry, sensei.” you answered, Getting ready to attack and act as support for your teacher. 

You both ran down the stairs and into the frey, you had your infinity on, therefore making any counter attack done by the villains useless. 

You looked up at your classmates and saw them getting sucked into the portal. ‘Shit!’ you thought, unable to leave the fray right now due to being ambushed left and right. 

You fought back to back with Aizawa, dealing with the villains that his scarf couldn’t deal with. You were only doing hand to hand combat, as sending in one of your coloured moves might be fatal to some of the weaker ones. You saw Aizawa rush towards the one with hands around, shocking yourself when his elbow suddenly got injured. You rushed to his aid, removing him from the villain’s grasp. However, what you didn’t expect was a creature to sweep in and bash your teacher’s head on the ground. 

“Aizawa sensei!” you shout in concern, immediately trying to remove the creature from him, however, your efforts lead nowhere as the creature was stronger than you physically as it continued to bash the erasure heroes head on the concrete and sent you flying towards a farther place. You weren’t able to activate your infinity in time, so your head got hit and you felt blood oozing out.

Lucky for you, you can heal yourself, since that was one of the first skills your father taught you, so you healed yourself and went back into the fight, more determined than ever. 

You notice the hand villain rush towards Midoriya, Tyusu and Mineta, and as far as you know, a single touch from that villain means destruction. 

You ran towards them, luckily, Aizawa cancelled the villain’s quirks, saving Tsuyu. You gave the villain a black flash punch and sent him flying. You looked towards your teacher, seeing the creature bash his head once again. Midoriya tried punching it, but nothing happened. 

“Fuck this, Reversal: Red!” you exclaimed, aiming at the creature’s head, sending it slamming into a wall. Shocking your classmates. 

You ran towards your teacher to assess the damage done. He was in bad shape, You saw the creature was back and Midoriya was fighting it. Then, the gym’s doors burst open, revealing the No.1 Hero, an angry look on his face. 

Everyone rejoiced as All Might made quick work of the smaller scale villains. The creature then faced All Might, Midoriya gave All Might information on the creature, to which the hero responded with a reassuring smile and phrase. “Midoriya, Tsuyu, Mineta. Hold onto me.” You said, grabbing onto Aizawa and teleporting you all out of the way. 

The fight continued, with your group watching from the sidelines. As much as you’d like to help out, you don’t want to get in All Might's way. You were shocked when Midoriya ran into the fight, only to be stopped by Bakugo who appeared out of nowhere along with Kirishima and Todoroki. 

You plastered a smirk, handing Aizawa to Tsuyu and rushing into the fight yourself. The hand villain went through a whole speech about kids these days, then ordered for the creature called a “Nomu” to finish off Bakugou. All Might looked at you for a brief second and you got the message. “Not on my watch!” you shout, teleporting to Bakugou and away with him, shocking the boy. 

The villain made another speech to which All Might asked you all to escape. 

A battle between All Might and the Nomu ensued as you students watched on. 

He sent the Nomu out through the roof with one strong punch, ending the fight. 

The other two villains then proceeded to attack All Might, when you and Midoriya ran towards them, you created a barrier and extended your infinity towards your classmate and All Might, giving them some sort of protection. 

Then, a bullet got shot towards the villain, making him fall.

The fog villain and the hand villain retreated, but not without the promise of coming back for revenge. 

The other pro hero teachers came as back up, to which you were thankful for. 

When you reached outside, you found police officers detaining the small fry villains, 

The head police informed you all of Aizawa and Thirteen’s conditions, which were luckily stable. They also informed you of Midoriya’s condition. 

“You were awesome there, Gojo!” Uraraka complimented, your other classmates surrounding you. “Yeah! That attack you did that sent the Nomu away was so strong!” Mineta exclaimed. As praises filled your ears, your mind was in a different place. “Thanks! I learnt from the best!” You replied.

Although deep inside you knew you weren’t strong enough, you had lots of opportunities to join the fight, to help All Might and not make him shoulder all the burden, but you stayed still and just watched as he was getting beaten up. 

You were scared to act, scared to get in the way, and scared that although Gojo Satoru, one of the world’s strongest heroes is your dad, you aren’t strong enough to handle your own battles. 

No amount of prior training or watching your dad handle missions would have gotten you ready for what just happened, and in all honesty, in your opinion, Midoriya was more of a hero than you were. 

When you got home, your dad heard about the news, and you told him everything, including your doubts. 

“Hey kikufuku… the first time isn’t always easy. You’re at a hero school TO learn about being a hero. Not just because you have a powerful quirk means that you’re already a powerful hero. You have much to learn, and that’s where experience comes in. I wasn’t always this strong, my strength comes from experience and training.” Satoru comforts you. 

“Stop being hard on yourself, you contributed to the fight and saved your teachers and classmates, and that’s what matters. You have plenty of other opportunities, so grab them and learn from them, okay?” he added, bringing you into a hug. 

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what background you’re from, because from then on, all of you are standing on the same stage, and are all training to become the next generation of heroes. 

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[thirtysixsavefiles]

For @frequentlybees on bluesky for the title meme: "had a house (but you made it a home)" took an unexpected turn but I still like how this came out

~~~

Sanji doesn’t know what possessed him to buy this place. It’s far bigger than one person needs; there are rooms he’s never even done anything with, that still lie empty. Even the bed is too big, but at least the kitchen is the right size. If the rest of the house is empty, he at least feels comfortable here, setting the water going for coffee and pulling the eggs out. He belatedly wonders if his guest has allergies; should have asked, but the shower is shutting off and he’ll have the opportunity in a minute.

Sanji rolls his neck on his shoulders, feeling the ache of well-used muscles and the imprint of teeth. He smiles to himself. Maybe he should casually ask if Zoro wants to stick around after breakfast; the man might have a mouth on him but at least he knows how to use it where it counts.

Speaking of — Zoro settles onto a stool across the kitchen island and accepts the cup of coffee that Sanji passes him. He takes a sip and sighs, eyes going half-lidded; Sanji finds his gaze caught before the pan sizzling behind him catches his attention. He turns, reaching absently for his own coffee, then pauses with his fingers on the handle.

“I’m sorry,” he says, turning back. “I didn’t ask how you take it — I can remake the cup if you want, you don’t have to drink that.”

Zoro takes another sip. “Dark roast, more cream than sugar?” he asks, and Sanji nods.

Zoro smiles, something small and half-rueful. “It’s perfect.”

Sanji can feel his own smile broaden in response; he can’t seem to stop smiling this morning, but there isn’t any reason for him to stop, is there? He takes a sip of his own coffee — black, with notes of cherry and caramel — and reaches for a mixing bowl.

He’s about to pour the eggs into the pan when his phone vibrates with an incoming call, and a glance at the screen doesn’t reveal a number he recognizes. Mnemosyne Clinic? Probably a wrong number, or a spam call. He lets it go to voicemail and the eggs sizzle in the pan.

He’s in the middle of folding the omelet when his phone vibrates again. “Are you going to get that?” Zoro asks.

Sanji plates the omelet and hands it to Zoro. “Fine,” he says, picking up on the last ring. “This is Sanji.”

“Mr. Vinsmoke?” a crisp voice says on the other end.

This is already not going well. “Technically,” Sanji says, ready to hang up.

“This is Alison at the Mnemosyne Clinic, calling for your six-month check-in.”

Sanji frowns. “I think you have the wrong number,” he says.

“Collateral memory loss is not uncommon with the anamnesis procedure,” Alison says smoothly. “You didn’t remember me at two months, either.”

Sanji stills. “Anamnesis?”

Across the kitchen island, a fork clatters to the counter.

“Selective memory erasure,” Alison confirms. “I just have a few questions —”

“What did I erase?” Sanji demands, searching for gaps in his memory. His sister, his brothers, even his father — nothing there seems incomplete, awful as it is.

“It’s against our policy to reveal details of the procedure to the patient —” Alison starts.

“What,” Sanji says through gritted teeth. “Did I. Erase.” Across the island, Zoro has his head bowed, hands pressed flat against the counter. Sanji probably shouldn’t have a medical conversation in front of a near-stranger —

Alison sighs, and her voice loses some of the professional polish. “You weren’t this difficult at two months.”

“Tell me,” Sanji says flatly. “Or I’ll be at your clinic door in half an hour, and I won’t knock.”

Zoro lifts his head, and there’s something in his eyes that catches the breath in Sanji’s lungs.

“All right. I suppose this is as good a check-in as any.” Alison clears her throat. “Does the name Roronoa Zoro mean anything to you?”

[leclsrc]

hiii! could i request a charles fluff where he and y/n kinda have like some tradition that they do together or something. and its just special to them? like going traveling or even something ordinary like cleaning the house? sorry i'm a total sucker for these lmao

again late, so late, sorry! but i am trying to catch up w these olddd reqs hahshdhs. shoutout again to mack who live messaged me ab a grocery trip and inspired much of this ily. title from this

things lovers do – cl16

“And we’re out of limes, I think.” You say, humming as you review the contents of your fridge.

“Do we even use them that much?” Charles asks from the dinner table. He stares at the list, where he’s written the word limes. He holds a pen to the left of it, prepares to draw it across the word, but your own words of protest stop him. What—of course we use limes, you say.

“I don’t recall us making guacamole, is all.”

You shut the fridge, laughing and walking over to where he sits, wrapping your arms around him from behind. Together, you peruse the crumpled list, of words written and erased in Charles’ messy penmanship. There’s romaine, lemon, pasta, ciabatta. Assorted gum, because Charles likes to chew it while working. Coffee beans, because a day without them renders you half-deceased. 

This is a weekly thing—reviews of the grocery list, on the dinner table with two glasses of wine. Anyone can love, but not everyone can sit and be patient and browse every last item of the fridge and pantry to determine what needs to be added. And through the list you’re provided with a window for the week: Monday night dinner with pasta, Wednesday breakfast with ciabatta, a romaine salad for Thursday brunch.

If you told your six-year-old self that your best memories with your boyfriend would be formulating grocery lists, she would pout in your face. Boyfriend? She’d ask petulantly. Don’t we get to marry a prince, with a horse and a castle? No, you’d say. We get to have a prince, yes, but he has a car and a house in Monaco. Is that good enough? If it isn’t, he makes a mean set of pancakes.

Do we get to dance with him at a ball? It’s still a no, you’d tell her. The dancing happens in the kitchen, lit only by the yellow of the stovetop range while you play Harvest Moon and sway softly to the guitar. It happens by the fridge, when a Bee Gees song comes on and Charles can’t resist holding you by the waist and lifting you up to join his dancing. It happens while you wait for toast in the morning, when both the bread and the weather are in the middle of cool and warm, to Al Green on the radio. 

This love of grocery lists and airplane rides sure doesn’t live up to your six-year-old self’s fairytale standards, or your sixteen-year-old’s hopes of marrying Harry Styles. You think, however, that it far surpasses anything you could ever have wanted. 

His voice draws you out of your reverie. “You okay? You’re a bit quiet.”

“Just thinking,” you reassure, pressing a kiss to his hair and smiling. “Of things.” Of us, of toast and tea, of romance and loving you and making lists and loving you and God, loving you. “Lots of things.”

“…Is this because I added too much junk food?”

“No, God,” you say, fond. “It’s nothing.”

“I love you,” he says back. And if you ever doubted it, there would always be limes, written without erasure on this crumpled list on the dinner table.

[vroomvroommuppett]

six

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a/n: from here on out, i will be using mostly blonde haired pictures as i am running out of content that i want to use for the story of the smau

a/n 2: also charles and alex are not together in this story

a/n 3: i also have a feedback form, and it would mean a lot if you could fill it out so i know what i can work on and what y'all like and don't like!

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

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[new video out now!]

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willowbuswell

liked by francisca.cgomez, charles_leclerc, and others

willowbuswell life lately

user1 body is bodying

francisca.cgomez lindaaaaaa

willowbuswell I LOVE YOU pierregasly Back of she's mine. willowbuswell that's not what she said last night, tripod

user2 how does she know all the drivers?

jensonbutton Please tell me you named the dog after me

willowbuswell my boyfriend named her jensonbutton Oh boy. I pray for that dog.

logansargeant LOGAN SARGEANT ERASURE!

willowbuswell Sorry honey. I'll make it up to you. logansargeant 😊

user4 WHOS SHE SOFTLAUNCHING?!

user5 A BOY?!

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willowbuswell posted a story

[meet buttercup]

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willowbuswell posted a story

[my son was not happy that i did not include him in my dump, so here you go lovelies @/logansargeant]

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[the-meta-tron]

The Book of Lies: A Good Omens Theory

One of the thoughts I’ve had since watching and re-watching Good Omens Season 2 were all the references to the Book of Life. In the very first episode, Michael threatens that anyone involved with Gabriel’s disappearance will suffer extreme sanctions, aka the Book of Life.

Daniel 12:1: At that time Michael, the great prince who protects your people, will arise. There will be a time of distress such as has not happened from the beginning of nations until then. But at that time your people—everyone whose name is found written in the book—will be delivered.

Later that episode, we see Crowley and Beelzebub discuss the extreme sanctions:

BEELZEBUB: According to what I’m hearing, on a grapevine that obviously doesn’t exist, upstairs is seriously troubled by Gabriel’s disappearance. I’m hearing that anybody they find involved in this affair will be dealt with.

CROWLEY: How?

BEELZEBUB: Extreme Sanctions

CROWLEY: That isn’t actually a thing. That’s just something we used to joke about to frighten the cherubs.

BEELZEBUB: No, it exists! Extreme sanctions. Anyone found involved in Gabriel’s disappearance will be erased from the Book of Life. They won’t just be gone, they will never have existed.

This of course is the thing that pushes Crowley to help Aziraphale with Gabriel, to protect him from being caught helping.

Despite being a fairly serious threat, it isn’t brought up until episode six, again by Michael.

MICHAEL I am authorized to remove the name of anyone who helped Gabriel from the Book of Life. You will never have existed, Aziraphale. I am the Supreme Archangel.

URIEL: Duty officer.

MICHAEL: And I-

METATRON: Excuse me, I’m sorry. I must interrupt you there. Um... Oh, and I’ve brought over a coffee.

MICHAEL (not recognizing him): I don’t believe I asked for any interruptions.

METATRON: I couldn’t help it. You’re talking utter balderdash. I mean, complete piffle. You don’t have the authority to do anything like that.

So... that’s it? This Chekov’s gun, this ability of Michael’s (and Heaven) to remove anyone from existing past or present is just a bunch of bullshit? Was it all just a contrived and poorly-written plot device to get Crowley to quickly make up with and help Aziraphale in the first episode and then this scene in episode six is the clumsy way of resolving the loose thread?

It is possible, but I’d like to operate under the assumption that there is a different story happening here than the one initially presented to us. I could very well be wrong. But this is just a theory.

So I’m going to make a couple of possible conclusions based on what is presented two us in these two scenes.

The Book of Life can erase people from existence but Michael doesn’t have the authority to do so, and was bullshitting the entire time.

The Book of Life can’t erase people from existence and Michael knows that and was bullshitting OR doesn’t know that (and was probably still bullshitting).

I don’t think that the first conclusion is true, either, and simply because if Heaven did have the ability to erase anyone from existence or modify reality on such a grand scale, why have they never done it before? You could argue maybe they have and nobody knows because of the whole existence-erasure. But I would argue that even if that were the case, why would they use it in some secret, unknown situations and not in the situations we see play out on screen where erasing certain people from existence would actually be useful?

Take season one, for example. The whole triumphant ending of the last episode was that Crowley and Aziraphale tricked Heaven and Hell by swapping bodies so they could avoid execution. Why, if hiding an Archangel is sufficient for extreme sanctions like being un-written, is stopping the apocalypse not? Do we really think if Gabriel “shut your stupid mouth and die already” the Supreme Archangel had the ability to erase Aziraphale and Crowley from existence, he wouldn’t do it? If anyone in Heaven had the power to erase Aziraphale and Crowley from existence, they would have done it already.

One could argue maybe also Gabriel/the Supreme Archangel doesn’t have the authority, but then who does? The Metatron? Then why didn’t he let Michael erase Aziraphale from existence (or do it himself) instead of manipulating a loose canon like Aziraphale to come back to Heaven? If the whole point of splitting Crowley and Aziraphale up is to stop them from averting the Second Coming, again, why not just delete them if Heaven has the power to do that?

And going back to The Beginning, if Heaven really could erase any being from existence, even demons, why did they not just do that instead of having them all fall down? Why not just erase Gabriel when he nah’d the apocalypse instead of wiping his memories and demoting him, if Heaven didn’t want him to become an indication of an institutional issue? That would have prevented him from being a problem and retroactively undone his nah.

So, in conclusion: I believe the Book of Life can’t erase people from existence and someone was telling a lie before that piece of information trickled down to Crowley.

But it does raise the question, what does the Book of Life do?

Some might argue that the rules of world-building in Good Omens doesn’t have to follow scripture exactly, except they really like to.

According to the Virtual Jewish Library:

BOOK OF LIFE, or perhaps more correctly BOOK OF THE LIVING (Heb. סֵפֶר חַיִּים, Sefer Ḥayyim), a heavenly book in which the names of the righteous are inscribed. The expression "Book of Life" appears only once in the Bible, in Psalms 69: 29 (28), "Let them be blotted out of the book of the living; let them not be enrolled among the righteous," but a close parallel is found in Isaiah 4:3, which speaks of a list of those destined (literally "written") for life in Jerusalem. The erasure of a sinner's name from such a register is equivalent to death (cf. Ps. 69: 29, and the plea of Moses, Ex. 32:32–33).

In the Mishnah (Avot 3:17), R. Akiva speaks in detailed terms of the heavenly ledger in which all man's actions are written down until the inevitable day of reckoning comes. On the basis of the above-mentioned reference to the Book of Life in Psalms, however, or, according to another amora, of the plea of Moses, the Talmud states "three books are opened in heaven on Rosh Ha-Shanah, one for the thoroughly wicked, one for the thoroughly righteous, and one for the intermediate. The thoroughly righteous are forthwith inscribed in the Book of Life, the thoroughly wicked in the Book of Death, while the fate of the intermediate is suspended until the Day of Atonement" (RH 16b).

So getting erased from the Book of Life doesn’t mean you won’t exist anymore. It just means that you aren’t on God’s nice list anymore. The Book of Life is for those who are good and righteous, Book of Death is for those who are evil and wicked, and the people who aren’t wholly either exist in some kind of intermediate limbo waiting for future judgement. It’s the exact same structure that we see for the construction of Heaven vs Hell vs Earth.

Remember how we were talking about the Second Coming being the big set-up for the next season? Well, fun fact, the Book of Life also makes an appearance in Revelations from the Christian New Testament:

Revelations 20:12: And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works.

Revelations 20:15: And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire.

So if being erased from the Book of Life means being cast out of Heaven into a lake of fire, aka Falling, why do Beelzebub and Crowley care? They did that already. Crowley wasn’t that bothered by the concept of extreme sanctions until Beelzebub brought up the Book of Life. It means something to them. Maybe because they know what it really does?

Now admittedly I’m not 100% sure that this works with Beelzebub because they seemed pretty convinced that Michael was telling the truth in their conversation with Crowley. But that entire conversation was hiding a lot, because we learn later on that Beelzebub was after Gabriel the entire time to protect him.Their desperation wasn’t selfish self-preservation, but saving the one they loved.

Gabriel was told that he would remain an angel, but his memories of his time as Gabriel would be erased. As if after his memories were erased, he would no longer be Gabriel, just a 38th-class angel. Then, when he put his memories in the fly, Heaven couldn’t find them anywhere or find Gabriel at all. All Gabriel had done was store his memories in something from Beelzebub (something from Hell, from The Book of Death) and take an elevator to Earth, but to Heaven he basically disappeared. When Beelzebub described what happened to Gabriel, they said that he vanished. There seems to be a strong connection with Gabriel’s amnesia and his absence from Heaven, for Heaven to not know where he was once he forgot who he was. Remember, they only ��found” him because of Crowley and Aziraphale’s miracle drawing their attention. And they only actually found him after Crowley realized where Gabriel stored his memories and Beelzebub returned them.

The Book of Life is more than just a list of names of people, it’s a record of their works. This sort of stems from the Mesopotamian belief that the gods kept records of mankind’s actions and destiny. In Good Omens Season 2, there’s a lot of emphasis on people’s memories. Gabriel’s missing ones are the focus of most of the plot, but we get important flashbacks woven in with the story in present day, Crowley and Aziraphale even make references to their past events in the current day.

A lot of people have also pointed out how Crowley seems to be suffering from his own subtle amnesia. He doesn’t seem to recognize Aziraphale in Eden when we saw them meet before the Big Bang. He doesn’t remember Saraquel but she remembers him and their nebula work. He knows he helped create the stars but not that he was responsible for Banging Out the Big Bang and Letting There Be Light. Later on, he doesn’t remember the specifics of the gravitational rules he helped write and was once geeking out over. He remembers fighting the war, but he doesn’t remember doing it alongside Furfur. In short, I think it’s very possible when angels fall, they forget things. Maybe not everything, but certain details. They forgot their good works. Crowley didn’t remember what he did very clearly, except for the thoughts and feelings that led to his fall. (I admittedly have no explanation for how this can be true and how Crowley can ‘remember’ Heaven’s password but so many other things seem to match up. Maybe Heaven’s passwords just suck).

Once Gabriel lost (hid) his memories, he seemed to disappear from existence to Heaven and Hell (something further perpetuated by Crowley and Aziraphale’s joint miracle). Even Crowley and Aziraphale hiding Gabriel altered the memories of other characters, like Uriel and Michael, who could barely remember even meeting Jim once they got back to Heaven. Forgetting and erasing/hiding seem to be parallels to one another, if not basically the same thing.

So to go back to my previous question: What does the Book of Life do? It’s a record Heaven keeps of “good” people and the “good” works they did. Erasing them completely from the Book of Life may not erase who they are and what they did, but it would erase the record and more importantly their memories of who they are and what they did (at least for Angels and Demons). It wouldn’t retroactively re-write the universe, but it would take away someone’s sense of identity and their existence. And if that person were an Angel, they would probably also Fall.

Which, to me, sounds like a pretty good reason for both Beelzebub and Crowley to be worried for their respective angels, right? They may know that Heaven isn’t threatening to literally un-write them from existence, but that their angel is in danger of suffering some kind of cruel and terrible fate where they forget fundamental aspects of who they are (maybe even the person they love?). Which is a different way of erasing someone than what Michael was threatening, but still fairly awful. Crowley, after learning about the Book of Life being involved, only cared about Aziraphale, which admittedly doesn’t mean much since he usually does that. But also, Michael only threatened to erase Aziraphale for his role in everything, not Crowley.

Maybe that’s because Crowley has already been erased?

It’s interesting how the show refuses to tell us anything about who the demons were before they fell. Particularly Crowley, who’s angelic name purposefully is a large hanging question mark. It could be because Gaiman doesn’t want to commit to a certain angel for Crowley to have been, or it’s intentionally vague because the whole point of Crowley’s character is that he isn’t an angel anymore. But it’s also interesting to think the reason why it hasn’t been said is because it can’t be said. From a metaphorical standpoint, Crowley’s name from when he was an Angel has already been blotted out.

Who whole idea of “existing” with Angels and Demons reminds me of this weird response Neil Gaiman gave one time:

The angel Lucifer doesn’t exist anymore. Now there’s just Satan, the Adversary. Like whatever made Lucifer an angel was erased, and Satan is what remains.

It doesn’t fit everything perfectly and there are still a lot of pieces of the plot regarding the Book of Life that I still don’t entirely understand. But I feel like I’m onto something with the themes that memory is linked to identity/existence and how that is linked to Falling, and that the ability of the Book of Life as it is explained to us by Michael (and Beelzebub) in the show is misleading in some way.

Anyway, this is just a theory I came up with while reading some other theories about season 2, and it’s all in good fun so please don’t take it too seriously.

[anamoon63]

URL Song Tag

Thank you so much for tagging me @matchalovertrait! 🤗💗 Sorry it took me so long to answer! Sorry as well for picking such oldies but they're the ones you can find in my playlists, and also what I know the most. 😋

A - A Little Respect by Erasure N - Notorious by Duran Duran A - A Matter of Trust by Billy Joel

M - Manic Monday by The Bangles O - Our House by Madness O - Overkill by Men at Work N - Nothing's Gonna Stop us Now - Starship

6 - Six Days (Remix) by DJ Shadow 3 - 3 by Britney Spears.

Advice: Don't add numbers to your URL guys, you will struggle to find song titles with those, lol!😅

I'm tagging @nocturnalazure, @kimmiessimmies @beresimsdreamworld @kamel-simmer-ts3, @marcishaun, @pudding-parade, @dridsimsheart, @satureja13, @igglemouse, @nessysims, @sharona-sims, @changingplumbob, @edyavtostopom and @serenasims.

[bookworm-center]

kaz brekker for the character ask game?

Ahh sorry it took so long, but I gotchu!

Why I like them: Kaz is such an interesting character; I think he's really well written.

Why I don't: His ruthlessness sort of scares me, but it makes him rather interesting.

Favorite Episode: Hm... I'm gonna say the first episode, "A Searing Burst of Light's just because I actually love his entrance sooo much!

Favorite Line: probably the iconic "I would come for you" quote, but if I had to pick a not-so-popular quote, then "Suffering is like anything else. Live with it long enough, you learn to like the taste."

Favorite Outfit: I mean, he mostly wears the same outfit, but I love the vibes of the s1 outfit; especially with that coat.

OTP: Kanej all the way!

Brotp: Kaz and Jesper!

Headcannon: In the Silver Six, Kaz puts geraniums on some of the tables. It's not particularly noticeable with all the chaos, but it's there.

Unpopular Opinion: As much as I love Kaz, he was definitely in the wrong with how he treated Jesper most of the time (is this an unpopular opinion?)

A Wish: I wish that there was a spin-off to see the Crows pulling off the Ice Court Heist

An Oh-God-Please-Don't-Ever-Happen: Kaz Brekker Trauma Erasure! Please no! It's happened to Inej (most of the Crows to be honest), not Kaz too.

5 Words to Best Describe Them: ruthless, determined, calculating, traumatized, masterminded

My Nickname For Them: Kazzle Dazzle, Simp (for Inej of course)

[hiatuswhore]

♕ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʇɐᴚ ʇǝǝɹʇS ǝɥ⊥—ᴀ ɢ���ᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ɹɐM

♕ A/N: Sorry for the delay between the holidays and work I was swamped. Hope everyone had a happy holidays and new year. The Prince and The Street Rat—A Game of War. Absolutely loving the feedback! Only two more parts remain for this story :)

♕ SUMMARY: The world works in mysterious ways and so does the residents of Kings Landing. One never knows what they find in the alleyways and rooftops. Whores, drunks, knights, thieves, sometimes even Princes.

♕ WORD COUNT: 3.4K

♕ WARNING: Mentions of self harm and cursing

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You approach the waiting carriage with your head held high. Daltis and Taliya offer tight hugs whispering well wishes for your return. Your eyes scan the courtyard. Far off stands the Dowager Queen. Her emerald green gown and doe eyes watching you with a curiosity to her nature. Where is he? You flinch back as Ser Barlo offers his hand, muttering an apology.

Pausing, you turn to the carriage—making feeble attempts to curb the dread that stills you. You swallow, accepting the Knight's hand, muttering an apology. You press yourself to the far corner of the carriage. Interlacing your fingers, you wet your lips huffing quietly.

"No worries, Lady (Y/n). You have nothing to fear," Ser Barlo smiles. Nodding your head, you lean back. Your eyes fluttering shut at the rumble of the carriage, Ser Barlo makes no attempts at conversation. The days pass in an arduous consistency leaving long periods of silence. Nights come with erasure. Often you close your eyes beneath the stars. The silence reminds you of the distance between yourself and Kings Landing, "We're going to stop here for a bit, my (Y/n). To feed the horses and stretch our legs. There's a tavern here if you wish to buy something to eat."

Nodding your head, you offer a tight-lipped smile. You stretch your legs across the seats, relishing in the light pops along your legs. The carriage door sits wide open, allowing a breeze to sweep your skin. Stepping outside, you bring your hands to your lips, a long yawn monopolizing your body as you roll your head forward. You shade your eyes with a hand at your eyebrows and the other on your hip. Furrowing your eyebrows, you scan the slow pace environment. A far cry from all you know, why is it so quiet?

A couple stands by a horse stable, the skepticism in their eyes making you step closer to the guards tending the horses and those resting their feet. Another stands further into the small town sweeping their front steps. Her eyes are on you—the same wary gaze. To the left of the sweeper sits the Tavern, the worn wood door lacking a semblance of invitation. You get a quarter of the way there to find more eyes waiting and watching. Frowning, you shake your head, turning your back to the onlookers. Not a chance.

You turn back, halting at the sight of a little girl. Dirt litters her clothes and skin, her limbs thin, almost frail. A girl no older than six, maybe seven. She smiles up at you, a shine in her eyes you cannot place. You offer a weak smile, hesitance hijacking your motor and social skills. The girl holds out her hand, a piece of cloth the size of your hand in it. You frown at the blue, the cloth far more expensive than anything in the area. The girl skips away, leaving you to closely inspect the familiar ripple pattern—exactly as Taliya had on your gown. The cloth, the same blue that Roslyn stitched in your chambers.

"You alright?" Ser Barlo eyes the townspeople as he speaks. You nod your head, tucking the cloth away into your cloak. Climbing back into the carriage, fully content on the rations of nuts. The journey continues in a nauseating continuance—why the hell did they choose Riverrun? You flinch awake as Ser Barlo retracts his hand from your shoulder. Rubbing your eyes, the Knights' words scramble in your stupor. Basic conversation, now a puzzle of understanding. The severity of your situation returning in suffocating waves.

"My apologies. What?" Running your hands over your face, Ser Barlo gives word of a Dragon sighting. Nodding your head, you sit up, fiddling with your fingers while scanning the carriage for nothing in particular. A humorless chuckle leaves your lips, garnering a glance from the older Knight, "A pawn in the game of thrones. I wager I do not make it to war's end."

"I'll wager you will," Amusement laces Ser Barlo's words, a smile ghosting on his lips. You raise your eyebrows, saying nothing. Roslyn's words rest in your mind like a sleeping beast—a dangerous secret. A loud growl fills the silence, and scooting forward, you peek out of the small grooves on the side wall. Faint wisps of black move briskly through the sky, leaving you to question the integrity of your sight.

The carriage rolls to a stop, and your eyes cut to Ser Barlo. He half nods. It's time. Outside of the carriage, a large black tent stands with guards standing on the opposite side. You keep your eye on the dragon looming above, swallowing thickly; you turn to your guards.

"I will go in alone," You say. A domino effect of wary glances plagues the men. Your gaze bounces between each of them, their confusion morphing into sneers.

"The King made his orders—" You roll your eye, squaring your shoulders with a pointed stare.

"Now I have made mine! I will go in alone or happily report to the crown the knights that thwarted the only possibility of maintaining peace in the realm. So tell me, nameless Knight, what is the next course of action for the proxy of the crown?" Your ferocity brings a pregnant pause. "I asked a question. What say you?"

A scoff fills the air, glaring daggers the man says, "You will go in alone."

"Set a perimeter. I want no surprises and do well to not piss off the dragon above us," You say, turning to the tent you clasp your hands in front of you. Ser Barlo stands by the entrance, nodding his head at you. His hand sits on the hilt of his sword. Taking a deep breath, you step inside. Your gaze falls as the Prince scrambles to his feet from his chair. A meager food spread covers the table with half-melted candles.

"Lady (Y/n)," Prince Jacaerys stands with the posture of a foot soldier awaiting command. The two of you stand in place, silence dancing between you. You wet your lips, analyzing every detail of his face. He looks like his father.

"I am so sorry for what became of Prince Lucerys. In my very brief moment with your brother, he was undoubtedly the kindest person I've encountered at court. Almost made me hopeful of those who influence the rulers of commoners like myself," Jacaerys turns away from you, a long sigh leaving his lips. He leans over, gripping the chair's edge, the white of his knuckles capturing your eye.

A pregnant pause ensues, leaving you to shift, silently cursing yourself for mentioning his brother. What the hell does one say in a peace negotiation?

"How are you?" Narrowing your eyes, your head whips up. An incredulous awe rendering you silent. Jacaerys steps forward, taking your hands in his own, "My mother has received conflicting reports of your well-being these past few months. The latest claims an attempt on your own life."

"I—What?" You lean back, searching for a glimpse of the truth behind this absurdity. A never-ending game of self-interest and entitlement with Rivers and low-borne as certain collateral.

"Did you not receive word of Ser Barlo's loyalty?" Jacaerys eyebrow quirk, a softness to his gaze. His hands move to your elbows, leaving your own hands resting on his forearms. The small gesture comes with the remembrance of many days and nights of capture by the former leader of the City's Watch. You take a deep breath, the searing in your throat making your eyes well. Moving from the Prince's grasp, you cross the tent.

"Um, I uh, I did. My apologies you remind of…." Bringing up your shoulders, you swipe away the escaping tears. Rubbing your hands together, a long sigh leaves your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, your words trailing off.

"Ser Harwin," Jacaerys gentle gaze exudes nothing short of comfort. He offers a curt nod—an understanding. "He spoke of you often. I never understood his responsibility toward you, but I understand why it has carried to my mother."

"They will set the Kingdom ablaze before they agree to Princess Rhaenyra sitting the throne," You clasp your hands in front of you, a sinking pit in your stomach. Jacaerys mirrors your stance, both of you mere children thrust into schemes older than yourselves. Your eyebrows furrow at the Prince's unflinching calm. Shouts outside the tent fill the silence.

"I come not seeking half-truths of peace but the assurance of your safety," Jacaerys eyes stay on your wary gaze. Ser Barlo enters addressing Jacaerys, his fealty leaving no room for doubt. Your jaw falls slack at the crimson that paints his sword. His attentive stare and ready stance add to the flip in your stomach.

"It is time, your Grace." You frown, and the two exchange pleasantries as though you do not stand before them. Jacaerys firm expression softens at your tense resolve. He steps forward, taking your hand in his own. His grip gentle, misleading—he offers no options.

"We must hurry! Word will soon travel, and my uncle will scour the skies in search of you. Lord Stark has a place you will go unfound," Your mouth gapes, your body captive to the domino effect of this ghastly choice. Aemond will not scour the skies. He'll scorch the fucking realm. You inhale sharply, halting at the sight of the beast.

"I cannot go," You whisper breathlessly, eyes locked on the massive green dragon. Its eyes meet your gaze, sending a shiver down your spine.

"We have no time for this," The baritone of Jacaery's voice, unlike the higher pitch from earlier. He pulls you forward, either unaware or uncaring of your fear-stricken stupor. The journey onto the saddle's lost in your focus on every little detail of the dragon. How the tips of its spiked skin shine a contrasting red, or the uneven surface of the body lays.

"Wait!" You grab his right wrist with your hand leaving your left to unsheathe his dagger. Pressing to his backside, you chew your bottom lip at how straight your body contorts. A sliver of freedom plays before you, a long lost dream of a previous reality, "I don't want to hurt you, but—you're not listening."

"Lady (Y/n)," The caution in his tone twisting your stomach into further knots. You sit on a dragon, holding a dagger to a Prince. Still, a foolish girl, playing way out of her depths.

"I can never place into words what it means to know your family aims to protect me. But you have come too late," The coals in your throat burn, your grip on the dagger loosening. "The usurpers have already butchered someone I loved and hold the final two I care for as prisoners. If I disappear, they die, and your uncle torches the realm. My return to Kings Landing can prove to be useful."

"You speak as though you aim to aid my mother in this war. Why should we trust you? My uncle's beloved companion?" Jacaerys wraps his hand around your wrist, bringing the dagger down slowly. He turns carefully, taking in your features.

"I do have a love for your uncle, but he is an awful companion. He has broken every oath he's sworn to me, and it's turned life upside down. There are more players in this war than that meets the eye. I have no idea who they are or the number of their strengths. Only their symbol of choice and the stretch of their reach. Their reach goes from Kings Landing to Pentos. The market streets to the Keep corridors. I understand your distrust in my loyalty to the succession of the throne. Words will give you nothing but action can, I need you to deliver a message to the rogue Prince and only the rogue Prince," Jacaerys eyebrows pull, eyeing you skeptically. You hand him the cloth with the skillfully stitched ripples. You ignore the twist in your gut. No time to reconsider and breathe, busy making risky political moves. You take the Prince's hands, rubbing your fingers back and forth. "Your uncles rather intense feelings for me are more than obvious—rather not hidden at all. I can assure you there will soon be a union. Many, if not all, of anyone who matters to the Hightowers will be in attendance."

"You'll forever bind yourself to the Kinslayer for my Mother's cause?" Jacaerys frowns, his gaze shifting away from you. You grip the edges of the saddle, the Prince soothing his vocal dragon.

"I've been bound to Aemond for some time now. No place in the North or anywhere else in the world will change that. If your uncle loved me, he'd release me—your family descends from conquerors, not lovers," You stare into his temples. Much like the rest of his family, he hides his thoughts beneath a blank exterior. Jacaerys shoulders square, his expression hardening while gripping the reins of the saddle.

"Sōvēs, Vermax!" You spring forward, wrapping your arms around his torso. Goosebumps litter your skin on the ascend, your eyes squeezed shut. You bury your face into the center of his back, taking long, deep breaths. Time exists beyond your understanding. Seconds? Minutes? Years? You cannot account for time as you peek one eye open, pressing further into the Prince. The time passes in a blur of green and map-like structures.

With time your grip loosens, and you take in the view you are certain of never experiencing again. The dragon ride from Pentos consisted of silent tears and a stubborn refusal to hold on to Aemond. You had considered throwing yourself off the two-hundred-year-old war dragon. But, this? Whether you fly to the North or the edge of the world, it does not matter. The soothing element of the sky numbs all uncertainties. Kings Landings arrives like a shock to the system.

"I am certain we will not see each other any time soon, Lady (Y/n)," Jacaerys trails off, eyeing the gathering soldiers at the port. Vermax hovers a good distance over Blackwater Bay, common-folk scattering to find shelter. The shelter will do nothing against dragon fire.

"I wish you the best of luck your grace," You catch his gaze, the chatter of army directives filling the silence. Jacaerys nods his head, the moment fleeting at the boom of a distant roar. Vhagar.

"Can you swim?" Eyeing Aemond's fearsome dragon, you absentmindedly nod your head.

"Best of luck, my Lady. I will report your good health to the Queen," Jacaerys says. A gasp leaves your lips as his hand presses to the side of your ribs. Your heart hammers in your throat, the weightlessness, unlike any feeling you know. Distant yells blend into indiscernible chatter, Vermax disappearing from above you as the bay swallows you whole. You wince at the sting of the surface against your skin. The pull below captures you with a gripping strength, the paddling of your arms, and the kicking of your legs covering minimal distance.

You keep your eyes on the surface that shimmers from the sunlight. The uniform strokes of your arm falter, hands scrambling to grab anything. You squeeze your eyes shut, the raging fire in your chest clashing against a frantic panic. Opening your eyes, splashes of black crowd your vision—the surface inches away. Your head tilts back, taking in the growing holes in your vision. Everything stilling at an alarming rate. You must protect yourself—no one else will.

Thrusting your right hand forward, it breaks the surface with a frenetic wave. Splashing and smacking at the surface before once again descending below. If asked to recount the next moments, an average person would think you a madwoman.

Coughing. Hands pulling at your limbs. And Men, far too many men. Several guards escort you through the streets of Kings Landings. Your eyes hooded, dripping water through the streets while clutching yourself tightly. The lingering eyes burn holes into your skin. You are not brought to your chambers or even provided with a change of clothes. Only a chair in view of all the Green Council members and usurper King.

You blink without pause, gripping the chair's edge as you recount your journey. Your trembling and higher susceptibility to illness appear to be of no import. The fabric of the chair sloshes beneath you, absorbing a great amount of water. Your body shudders as you run your hands over your goosebumps.

"Why would traitors of the realm stage a coup for a Kings Landing bastard?" Lord Lannister questions. His malice fair, and skepticism expected.

"Ser Harwin Strong. As a girl, he often looked after me despite my best efforts to evade him. It seems the Princess has taken the responsibilities of the late Knight. At Kings Viserys family dinner, she assured me I would always have a place with her and her family," Your despondency commands the room. Never quite fond of recounting doleful histories or revisiting ghosts from the past. The Green council pass looks across the table, a shared silence as you stare off aimlessly.

"So it is settled. Your Grace, her usefulness has run its course. She carries ties to the traitors of the realm and speaks flippantly against those above her station. I say we send her head to her beloved Queen," Lord Lannister smiles at you with sickening glee. You meet his gaze, glaring daggers without care for others in the room.

"And I do hope if the Princess wishes to light the realm ablaze that she starts with the cunts of Casterly Rock," You hiss. A hearty laugh fills the room as Ser Cole grips Lord Lannisters shoulders, keeping him seated. Aegon sits at the head of the table, failing to control his inappropriate amusement. It matters not as the doors fly open with a sobering slam. Aemond's at your side, ignoring the onlookers as he searches for an injury upon you. His hands cradle your head, a tenderness in his eyes.

"Aemond," His mother calls out, her composure shaky as the council eyes her second son. Aemond removes his cloak covering you before his demeanor shifts.

"I will have that bastard's head piked before the moon fucking turns!" Aemond growls, ignoring how his mother calls for him to sit. Aegon wets his lips, grinning at the crack in the ever-dutiful Prince's nature, revealing what he always knew was there. A flawed Targaryen. Aemond continues his pacing and furious muttering, even as his mother dismisses the green councils. At the close of the doors, she rises with ease to her features. Aemond allows her to intercept his pacing but the obscenities that leave him continue without end. You look down at your lap, her hand connecting with her son's cheek, and a deafening silence follows. Otto watches his daughter curiously as Aegon mirrors his brother, pure shock across the faces.

"If you care so much for this girl, why do you endanger her by showcasing your affections. An open slight to Lord Baratheon. You lot will not tire me to madness!" She exclaims. Alicents vehemence moves from her second son to her eldest. "And you. You will be the King this realm needs. I care not if you must fake it. But you will do away with this affliction to wine and finally be a man!"

Otto clears his throat to speak, but it halts as Alicents hands slam against the table. She glares at her father in a mix of melancholy and resentment, "This all your fault! Your insistence on Aegon's installation, your machinations that made me Queen, the divide in the realm that has grown for twenty years. All direct results of your actions. No longer will you take action without the input of your King or this council! That includes the capture of this girl's loved ones. Who will be free to stay at the keep as guests. And you. From this day forward, you are Lady of this court, and you will proceed as such. You will address those above you properly or it will be I who calls for your tongue. Whether you lot like it or not, you will all pull it together for the benefit of the realm. Do I make myself clear?"

Alicent's gaze bounces between the four of you. You offer a half nod, looking down at your lap. What the others do in response goes unnoticed by you. The honey in Alicents voice long gone leaving venom in its place.

"I asked a question."

[katenepveu]

Feel free to take issue with my choices, of course! And sorry for the Bluff City and Fall of Magic erasure, but I couldn't not do "the weak point of a mech," and then it seemed only fair to put the other Road in.

(I did, however, try to make this spoiler free, FYI.)

[performativezippers]

I’ve had quite a few people asking me on twitter and in the comments what my thought process was for writing Awake (which I keep calling Alive, LOL sorry). So I figured I’d write out what I did in case you’re curious. I mostly did this via voice-to-text while walking my dog this morning, so enjoy the ramble.

As soon as I saw the finale, I knew that I really wanted to address what happened in Venezuela because it was super fucked up. The writing didn’t make a lot of sense, and most of it was kind of out of character for Tennant. The whole set-up was that she couldn’t kill this one guy, but during the course of the episode, everyone kills a bunch of people. Including Kate. Makes no sense.

One thing that struck me was that I believe this is only Kate’s second on-screen confirmed kill, the first being the guy in the bottom of the boat with Lucy in Nightwatch 2. She’s shot at other people, but those are the times we see her bullets impact a person in a dead-sort-of-way. So her having to touch all these dead bodies in Venezuela, to kill one of the guys in the car with Tennant, having to ram her car into that other car, having to get herself out of handcuffs—all of that were new experiences for Kate. New hard, bad experiences. It was a rough trip, let’s say.

I didn’t like in the show that all we heard her say was “it didn’t matter why we were doing it, I didn’t need to know, I trusted Tennant, she’s family,” because Kate didn’t trust her the whole time, Kate did want to know what was going on the whole time, and then Tennant did all this terrible stuff to her. That was such an erasure of everything Kate went though, and I wasn’t here for it! There is angst to be had and god damn it, WE ARE GOING TO HAVE IT ONE WAY (CANON) OR ANOTHER (FIC).

Originally I thought that I would have all this in Kate’s POV, and then I thought maybe I’d alternate POV’s. But then as I was conceiving of the fic, I realized that I was most interested in Lucy‘s POV. In Kate’s POV, there wouldn’t be a lot of depth or complexity. You shouldn’t have betrayed me. You shouldn’t have handcuffed me. That was really upsetting so I’m now upset. There’s not a lot of curiosity, not a lot underneath the surface, or more than meets the eye there. That didn’t actually interest me that much, and I decided Lucy’s POV would be richer because she could be both really upset on Kate’s behalf and on her own behalf.

I was really fascinated by what it would be like for Lucy to not trust Tennant, and to feel betrayed by Tennant, because they haven’t played with that dynamic at all in the show. Lucy has always been her devoted mentee. There’s so much trust in Lucy for Tennant, and I was interested to see what the impact on Lucy would be if she had to stop trusting her.

When I was watching the episode, the thing with the handcuffs was really upsetting, obviously. The fact that Jane would do that to Kate, the logistics of how is Kate supposed to go to the bathroom?? The inherent danger the fact that people could’ve followed them—really, really upsetting. For sure. But the thing that impacted me the most was the scene with all the corpses under the tarps. Kate has just seen Charlie One, a person that she knows, dead. I’m not sure if she’s ever seen a dead person before, the body of a friend, someone she knows well. That’s so painful. And it was it was gross! There’s a piece of bone from his head in the pool of his blood. (I actually think realistically some of his brain matter would’ve been out, but I’m OK with the fact that they didn’t do that). But it’s graphic!

So she sees her one friend, dead, and she knows this is the last place her best friend was, and there are six corpses on the floor covered in tarps. It’s just such evocative imagery, it’s so upsetting. And Tori does this incredible acting job in that micro-scene where she’s pulling the tarps off the corpses one by one, where she somehow shaking and crying but not actually doing either. You can just feel it. It really hurts.

There’s that long horrible breath/pause before she takes the tarp off the last one, bracing herself for it to be Tennant. And then it isn’t. That immediately struck me as what the nightmares would be about. That peeling back, peeling back, peeling back, every time the tension just ratcheting up and up and up. This time it’s going to be your person, this time, this time, this time. I knew immediately that was going to be the crescendo of the dreams.

So then I had to figure out what happened before the crescendo. Originally the first line/framing was going to be “The nightmares change after Venezuela.” But then I realized that a much more interesting first line was “The nightmares change again after Venezuela.” More surprise/curiosity/depth there.

But then, of course, I had to establish what the dreams were at the beginning, and how they’ve changed in the past, oops. I have a friend who a couple months ago was telling me about how even as a little kid she had very adult nightmares. I don’t know what the content of them was or what they were like, but she talked about having a lot of trouble sleeping as a kid because of them. That gave me the idea for this originally, but then I had to figure out what would a child know about enough to dream it, but be too young to visualize safely.

That’s why so much of her nightmares are bodily, a because nightmares for many of us, for adults, are bodily (not able to run, stuck in quicksand, whatever). I didn’t focus on the stuff many of us dream about as adults, like embarrassment (being naked at school) or the unprepared dreams (final for a class we never took). They needed to be things that would be scary to a four year old, to a six year old, and little kids aren’t really embarrassed or unprepared. It’s pretty standard horror fare for a little kids, I think: the dark, monsters, being alone, fire, drowning. Of course because it’s Lucy, I want there to be lots and lots of water imagery, water everywhere. Plus corpses, and rotting. I imagine that most of Lucy‘s siblings are older than her, so maybe she watched a movie with a rotting corpse when she was very young, and it really stuck with her. The rotting, the decaying, the visual proof of not being alive.

So in her dreams forever there have been dead bodies and stuff, but they were always already dead. The crux for me was the realization that the first person she would see being killed other than herself was Kate. That would be the first time the dreams changed.

Watching Kate die instead of watching herself die—that’s so interesting to me as a way to demonstrate love. And I know that’s like super fucked up or whatever, but I was really curious about, for someone who’s been plagued by nightmares their whole life, what would being in love with a soulmate-type-person mean for you? What would it change? What wouldn’t it change?

So that’s how it came together. And don’t kill me, but at first, I didn’t plan on writing the second chapter at all. It was just gonna be a one shot that was honestly about love, because of the way the dreams changed, but also really just about Lucy’s well-being and the impact of Tennant’s betrayal on her. And then I decided that was too mean. I thought I was going to have her dealing talking about it with Tennant, but I realized that would be too far in the future. I don’t think she’s ready for that right now. She needs some time, to stop having the nightmares every night so that she could get some semblance of herself back. She needs to figure out what’s actually feelings of betrayal, versus what is left over fear from what happened. And I think Kate and Chase are going to be able to help her sort through that, although, of course, I think a good therapist could do wonders!

And tbh I don’t understand why Sam is joining the cast. I love the cast as it is. That’s one of the things that made me really not engage after the finale for a little while, this sort of disinterest in his character, and how he unbalances the gender dynamic. I’m worried he’s going to take some leadership and responsibility from Tennant, blah blah. And of course, I’m always worried that Yas is going to leave the show, #NoDiscourse.

But the fact that Sam was in Venezuela, that he just happened to be there, that he got the call to come help them, while Lucy was sitting at her desk, waiting for her phone to ring—so, so, so fucking scared—that was kind of beyond the pale for me, and I like thinking about how far beyond the pale it would be for Lucy.

The whole problem in the episodes is that Jane didn’t trust any of them with the truth, or care about Kate enough to keep her alive, but then she trusted Sam? That someone cared enough about Tennant to call Sam to keep her alive, but no one cared enough about Kate to call Lucy? To get Kate out of the hotel room? Fucked up.

So once Sam was there and I realized he could trigger a daytime activation of Lucy’s nighttime PTSD, the second chapter really came together. And that’s it!

I’m sure you didn’t care at this level of detail, but I have nothing better to do while walking my dog than voice-to-text all of my thoughts and feelings. Bye!

[bobbys-not-that-small]

LW&Co Series Commentary - Ep 2: "Let Go Of Me"

Here's the rewatch commentary that no one asked for! Take a shot every time I say "erasure". Context: my 2nd time watching the show, but first time post reading the books

Part: one, two, three, four & five, six, seven, eight

They're nailing it with these intros - the water scene?!

"No one died. And no one will when I'm in charge" ROBIN ERASURE

Aw, I liked the book storyline of Lucy forgetting about Annabel's source and thinking she was a pile of laundry. It's not quite the same this way.

Lucy acknowledges it later but it's definitely not a coincidence that Annabel looks like Norrie. Tbh everytime I saw Annabel in a different form she looked like a different person, or was it just me? (I know the ghost was meant to be a bit creepy and dead which I liked how they did)

TOY MOBILE ERASURE!!!

Do we think Lockwood sleeps in socks or do we think he stopped to put them on?

Ohhhh! I love the blocking of George physically moving over to Lucy's side when he sides with her in the kitchen

*When Lockwood answers the phone* *Will Smith voice* "Don't put that thing up to your head!!" (sorry niche MIB reference)

Bobby's NOT THAT TALL though I love how his trousers are a bit too short

George and Lucy bonding over pizza <3

ASSET

I love how they cut close to Lockwood and Lucy whenever they're having their mini arguments so you forget that George is literally still in the room the whole time

He's even there when Lucy get's possessed lol

Yanno, I think I need a rapier practise room for cooling off (sidenote: LOVE that George was the one who came up with it! not just a book nerd but a tinkerer too!)

"you're more of a liability than an asset" I LOVE THEM

Not George getting accosted with his literal milk and cookies 😭😭😭

[stuckboards]

Hello! I was wondering if I could get a shufflemancy for Wilbur Soot about my relationship with my son, Fundy, or Quackity? Thanks in advance! :]

✰ SHUFFLEMANCY for WILBUR SOOT

SONG :: DEAD TO ME - MELANIE MARTINEZ

(My interpretation is under the cut!)

I need to kill you That's the only way to get you out of my head Oh, I need to kill you To silence all the sweet little things you said I really want to kill you Wipe you off the face of my earth And bury your bracelet, bury your bracelet Six feet under the dirt Rainy days and black umbrellas Who's gonna save you now? Can you cheat from underground?

-

My condolences I'll shed a tear with your family I'll open a bottle up Pour a little bit out in your memory I'll be at the wake dressed in all black I'll call out your name, but you won't call back I'll hand a flower to your mother when I say goodbye

-

'Cause, baby, you're dead to me (I'll mourn you when you go) Baby, you're dead to me (I'll mourn you when you go)

You and Quackity may have actually had a positive relationship in the past. There were good times, even if your relationship went downhill, and part of you wants to forgive him. One way or another, you felt betrayed by him, enough to the point where you felt violence towards him was the only way to move forward. Despite this aggression, you still found it hard to forget the good times.

Perhaps you are mourning your relationship with him, even if parts of it were rocky. Through all the violence and anger, you feel sorry about how things have turned out, and perhaps regret the way things turned out. While he may be dead to you romantically, you still felt a sense of guilt and regret regarding his erasure from your life, even if you never admitted it to him directly.