#the giant claimed that the third person was the lady. the lady went up on the stand and was cryinggggg and her dad was ready to throw her in

[boygirlctommy]

ALSO i was a lawyer in a trial (it was specifically called a mock-trial, nothing about this was legal but it was important to us) and I have no fucking clue what I was supposed to be proving. There wasn’t even another lawyer it was just me out there.

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

Responses from the Opera Screencaps Captioning Quiz

Hello, everyone, and thank you for taking my quiz! I had SO MUCH fun reading your captions-- there were several times I literally started crying from laughing so hard at the amazingness of your work! With that in mind, the captions (which I will continue to add onto as more people take it):

(also, thank you to @dichterfuerstin​ for translating the German captions I got)

originally taken from: the Wiener Staatsoper’s 2020 production of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail, featuring Regula Mühlemann (center) as Blonde, Michael Laurenz (right) as Pedrillo, and an unnamed extra (left) as the Grim Reaper

Responses:

(Backstage warm-up) “ok so someone dropped the pulse”

me and my friends watching the fire burn after doing arson

Introducing the polycule to the parents

*boom* ... did...you guys hear that too?

Ma Signor !

Knight in whinging armour gone wrong, look at how he holds the egg. Polyamory with weird knight and death.

the father, son and the holy ghost are very gay

the gays meeting for brunch, 2021, colorized

chicken lady forces death and a very flamboyantly homosexual anthropomorphized pink bird to be parents of her egg (they dont want to be)

That’s just me and my friends on our night out (before covid rip)-- closest

A Good Friday night

good omens (2019)

["the pocket guide to boy/girl/mischief" meme] who's the boy and who's the mischief though????

Papageno and Papagena take their first-born egg trick-or-treating

Angry Birds - The Musical. A pig stole an egg and the bird unites with death to take revenge.

I love my bird wife

Someone got murdered during the funky chicken dance

throuple murders child and steals sibling of said child

When you and your friends have widely different tastes in literature

angel leading twink to his rightful place (hell)

draco malfoy from a very potter musical and a death eater are very much in the wrong show

What have I gotten myself into

Mlm/wlw solidarity but I’m not telling who is who

A woman stands with a pink dipshit with an egg and a reaper.

A bird-couple makes a pact with Death, sacrificing their first-born bird-child in order to bring good luck upon their unborn bird-baby

There are three types of people on Halloween:

Uh oh, I don’t think the mother hen is very happy about this...

oh god, they’ve invented seussical. It’s too early!

gay brunch

Three little maids from school are we

guys maybe if we dress gay enough we can distract everyone from the dead flapper bee in the back

those three killed a duck for her egg and are facing the conswquences.

Duck has egg with human, shocked and upset due to biological impossibility

When you bout to make a banging omelet so you invite your fellow queers

"No mortal man could pass that egg, but heaven shall repair your rectum."

originally taken from: the Salzburg Festival’s 2007 production of Hector Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini, featuring Maija Kovalevska (left) as Teresa Balducci, Laurent Naouri (center, in chimney) as Fieramosca, and Burkhard Fritz (right) as Benvenuto Cellini

Responses:

“In this same interlude it doth befall That I, one Snout by name, present a wall; And such a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink, Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, Did whisper often very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show That I am that same wall; the truth is so: And this the cranny is, right and sinister, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.” - a midsummer night’s dream, act v scene 1

"ah yes a prime specimen. see here, right in this box is our one of a kind hob goblin that can be all yours for the low low price of your soul"

what, YOU don't have a special eavesdropping chimney window?

Hänsel und Gretel plotting against the witch

man takes a wrong turn and ends up in a chimney, catches his girlfriend cheating-- closest

when you end up third wheeling the straight couple

lady cheats on her leather jacket wearing scummy boyfriend and when he unexpectedly comes home she hides the lover in the chimney

A straight girl and her gay best friend gossip about stuff idk

Idk Shakespeare?

experimental couples therapy feat. the chimney mf from mary poppins

Area Couple Inadvertently Traps Santa-in-Training in Chimney as they Attempt Rooftop Flirting

Landlords laugh over student renter's misfortune

I never asked for this

Ay yo lil mama lemme whisper in your ear

voyeurist listens to sandy and Danny from grease

Psssst! Did you hear about Susan? You won’t believe it!

lady and the tramp meets beauty and the beast?

human trafficking

And for just $30 you too could have your own tiny brick cage!

Psst I’m wearing assless chaps under this dress

A couple tortures a man in a box.

It's all fun and games being stuck in a chimney until your greasy uncle steals your crush from right above you-- okay ngl this could actually be a great Don Pasquale concept

Taking eavesdropping to the next level

Will you two stop being lovey dovey and let me out? SUMMER LOVIN, HAPPENED SO FAST— 

overhearing how people talk about you when they think they're alone puts you in the shithouse 

Does he know we can see him?

dear god, i am so fucking hungry, yall please just do whatever heterosexuals do so i can go eat a popsicle 

the human version of the trash man from sesame street is realizing that those two are going to fuck on his trash can 

Tmw you capture an angry short dude and start trashtalking him where he can hear 

Omg what if we kissed but we actually kissed the lil goblin man under us

"Remember, don't feed him after midnight"

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Leonardo Estevez (right, on fake horse) as Le Comte d’Oberthal

Responses:

“When I said we needed to drain the swamp I didn’t think there were people actually living there”

horse? what horse? no sir i dont know what horse youre referring to.

definitely don't have a napoleon complex going on

King stole La Scala‘s Lohengrin set

king breaks all his horses, has to use statue dragged by servants as transportation because he’s too kingly too walk

Emperor Söder and his subjects on a carnival procession

man on horse makes a big deal out of being on a horse

That’s not Zeffirelli because the horse is not alive

Who the fuck put a horse on the stage

isn't this that picture of napoleon on the horse

Area Count Thinks Citizens will be Intimidated by his Extremely Fake-looking Horse Statue-- closest

Everyone wants their turn on the giant plaster horse. Police are there to make sure everyone waits their turn.

Night out with the lads

Local royalty horrified at the state of his own damn kingdom

gay army fights different gay aesthetics-- hi author how does it feel to be the funniest fucking person on this quiz

Well at least I LOOK badass

ceasar if he hadn't gotten stabbed (colourised)

some soldiers jumped out of my kindergarten fairytale collection book to burn the don carlos flemish deputies at the stake

It’s just a model

Is that how you feel pulling up in your Honda Civic, Madge?

Someone rides a horse statue in public.

Just a normal party with the bros.

what is this, some kind of crossover episode? 

Terribly sorry for all the fuss, it’s just, that is, my horse is afraid of neck ruffles. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he’s—whoaaa there—he said he was a french courtier in a past life and he’s allergic to English fashion 

Horse seller, listen to me! I am riding into battle. I need your strongest horse. - We have horses at home. - The horses at home: 

All hail Incitatus the king 

we are not ripping off shakespeare’s henry viii. what the fuck. this is about lenny xi you uncultured swine, go drown in a pit of your own farts 

oh god is that hamilton 

Guy Removed From Art Museum For Sitting On Statue, more at eleven 

Gay <3

Officer: This horse... is a virgin! Crowd: *cheers*

originally taken from: the Parma Verdi Festival’s 2017 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Stiffelio, featuring Maria Katzarava (left) as Lina and Luciano Ganci (right) as Stiffelio

Responses:

That One kid in class

its a mEntAL BreAkDowN *final countdown but kazoo*

*record scratch* yeah, that's me. you're probably wondering how I got here-- closest

Dad keeps monologuing, teenager is done

left: all of my concerned friends, right: my emo ass having a very public mental breakdown

the demons in the corner of my room when im just trying to sleep

lady gets mansplained to (do i need to say more, we've all been there)

It’s probably an area baritone telling off an area soprano-- sorry; it’s a tenor. soprano is right though.

That was a fake horse in the last photo right?

child comes out as gay to father at a particularly bad time

dissociation solves everything

I can't believe it's not butter

Honey we talked about this

My sleep paralysis demon is Crowley from supernatural

child has nightmare of boring job

When you start dating a singer but he won’t stop practicing at night

just an average day in a hetero marriage

what do i do my wife's having period cramps again

Stop having an existential crisis. It’s time to sing!

“No son of mine will kin Gomez Addams under MY roof”

Crowley stares into space while a teen has post nut clarity.

When he wont stop reciting jordan peterson monologues!!

Do you realize how effed you are?

Ugh, not this lecture again! Dad’s Practicing For His Experimental Indie Band Again 

asking your parents for help with your own personal situation and them just ranting off about what they went through instead of helping in any way 

Will he shut up already!

no one tell him he’s yelling in the wrong direction, no one tell him plnsbdjddhdj 

this kid is tired of his dad listening to rush limbaugh (a man who claimed to be pro life but died anyway) 

Me internally vs externally 

Daddy issues

originally taken from: the Grand Théâtre de Genève’s 2020 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots, featuring several chorus members

Responses:

It’s the deadly eye Of Poogley-pie. Look away, look away, As you walk by, ‘Cause whoever looks right at it Surely will die. It’s a good thing you didn’t … You did? … Good-bye. - shel Silverstein

why the fuckith? my good sir, i beg of you to put your pants back on

I hate this itchy hat

Titanic Extras hear that they have to do extra hours

people waiting to board the titanic watch someone fall off the plank

pov: you’re a time traveler

guy in the flatcap is embarrassed by patriotism and pathos

No idea. For some reason Le Marseillaise comes to mind

Is this from Harry Potter?

disneyland main street usa workers on strike

local tries to hide behind Newsies cap to avoid unpleasant but inevitable conversations. meanwhile, some very fashionable ladies look on.

"Thank fuck, 2020 was just a dream after all"

“We gather here today because this bitch got exactly what she deserved” “heaven!” “Stfu Stephanie she’s going to hell and we all know it”-- not quite but this basically happens later on in the opera (and act) so yeah (except the person in question very much Did Not Deserve It)

dc movie filter on bridgerton

america?

looks like my history teacher paused the prohibition documentary again

Who still wears page boy hats bro?

Coming out to a room of people who Already Knew That

Bitches are relieved at some party.

Several drunk people exiting getting off the subway attempting to seem sober and rational but realizing they have somehow lost all of their possessions

How tf do I act natural in this situation-- closest

“do you think any of them noticed that I don’t know the pledge of allegiance” 

It's too fucking hot outside for this outfit 

?

when hyyh yoonkook ending just hits different 

pedestrians watch in horror as the triangle shirtwaist factory burns and the workers throw themselves out of the windows from a dozen stories up 

Starting the pledge of allegiance be like 

He's having a heart attack oh no oh god oh fuck

originally taken from: if I remember correctly, the Semperoper Dresden’s 2018 semi-staging of Johann Strauss II’s Die Fledermaus, with Jonas Kaufmann as Gabriel von Eisenstein

Responses:

“William Shakespeare wrote: "To thine own self be true And it must follow, as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man" I believe this wise statement best applies to a woman A blonde woman Over the past three years she taught me And showed us all That being true to yourself never goes out of style Ladies and gentlemen Our valedictorian: Elle Woods!” - legally blonde the musical

eat ass, suck a dick, and sell drugs

woooooorrrrd

Finally Jonas has graduated! It’s about time, considering he’s an international star.

what my professors think they look like

Prof. Dr. Dr. When someone tells him there are more than two genders

'and since you've now graduated high school, you'll be entering college etc. blablabla' .........meanwhile, there's a whole row of graduates daring each other to chug the cheap vodka one of them has brought in gallons (yes that happened at my graduation, lol)

Jonas darling baby <3-- can’t argue with that

I just realized I have no idea what the actual fuck happens in an opera

ok this one is just what jonas kaufmann always wears you can't fool me.

"as valedictorian i will share with you the importance of loving the floor"

"Yes, mother, my art degree will make me money!"

Graduation speakers are out, singers are in

Senior year takes a new meaninbg

mansplainer professor explains the concept of feminism to women

Your Prof when you finally turn in that missing assignment be like

younger boris johnson (derogatory)

jonas kaufmann retires from opera and takes up motivational speaking

What a fine graduation evening we’re having today

-70 points for slytherin you all have no swag

A man with a college hat sings.

An obviously greying actor trying to play a university student in a low-budget porn parody

How it feels to graduate high school after being held back for years

East High is a place where teachers encouraged us to break the status quo and define ourselves as we choose. Where a jock can cook up a mean crème brûlée, and a brainiac can break it down on the dance floor-

I may not have been "cool" in high school, but in ten years you will all be working for me!

I finally got my GED!

that one guy in ur intro to cultural anthropology class who mansplains to the professor somehow fucking graduated

he;s just graduating and taking his speech too serously idk

Graduation speeches with that one dude who got held back 3 times

Smrt

originally taken from: the Metropolitan Opera’s 2011 staging of Gioachino Rossini’s Le Comte Ory with Joyce DiDonato (left) as Isolier, Diana Damrau (center) as Countess Adèle, and Juan Diego Florez (right) as Le Comte Ory (disguised as a hermit)

Responses:

There is something very [disturbing grunts] About polyamorous couples - polyamorous, Chris Fleming

jinkies

femme fatale (including to herself)

I’ll have a threesome soon !

Hot guy walks by, everyone swoons.

thirdwheeling friend does not realize the other two are having sex

When your girlfriend had „just two beers“ again

jesus is exasperated about having to drag the two ladies towards doing what he needs them to do instead of purple dramatically declaring suicidal intent over the smallest trivial matters and red being equally dramatic about declaring that it's not the way! stay alive! i love you!!

The throuple is thriving

Get off the milf

orgy

my last three braincells because im a horny slut

countess receives too much love and is confused on how to react

Rasputin's lesser known romp with a much older czarina of russia

Woman's soul leaves body

Jesus and co. are worried after another woman gets pregnant without having sex

bisexual looks at photos of celebrity couples

When you go to the party to socialize with new people but your weirdo friend group starts getting clingy

Jesus cumming

one of those weird church christmas pageants but everybody's drunk

What have I done

Hozier??????????

Jesus assfucks some purple lady being hugged.

This time, the chick IS the magnet

An affair/threesome gone awry (2019 colorized)

What do you mean they canceled GLOW?

“I TOLD you it was cashmere!”

Are you wearing the - - The Gucci dress? Yes I am.

It's not what it looks like!

jesus is fucking that one cheerleader who grew up to be a suburban mom with one (1) super cool dress she stole from her kid who is desperately hugging her middle begging for it back because the spring fling is coming up and jason might actually make eye contact with her for more than three seconds.

jesus and mary magdaline and some other bitch

I’m at a bar and these drunk girls are flirting with me, do I lOOK GAY?!

Shrek 5, jesus's return

c. 2025 First attempt of an Officer and his Wife with a Handmaiden (colourized)

just about all of these are close lol

originally taken from: the Bolshoi Theater’s 1993 staging of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s The Maid of Orléans, featuring Nina Rautio (left) as Joan of Arc and Vyacheslav Pochapsky (right) as Thibaut d’Arc

Responses:

Don’t look, I’m still pooping

yall, the audacity of this man. he fuckin talked to me

*i can't even tell you how wrong you are* *it would be insulting to ME*-- closest

Cospeto!

„No I’m not talking to you, you keep cracking bad jokes!“ - „But I got another!“

when you’re mad at him but he says he’ll buy you food if you cheer up

When I’m wallowing in self-pity but my friends won’t comfort me

right: wanna fuck ;) left: yeah, fuck OFF lmao

Her face is screaming “don’t tell me what to do”

Yeah I got nothing

gay man tries to hit on a lesbian bc he thinks she's a twink. she's not amused but she's watching this happen anyway

me tired of MET's bullshit and them organising a Netrebko, known blackface apologist, a recital during Black History Month. (sorry im still fucking salty lol)

"stop smiling at me like that I'm trying to pout over here"

"I got fleas, you got fleas... wanna fuck?"

I have the best idea!

Haha nooooo don’t hit me with that bat you’re so sexxyy

lesbian is bothered by dilf

Me trying to flirt

if call me by your name was hetero and set in america

how many more dad jokes can i take before i explode

So. You’ve gotten yourself in a little pickle again.

What if we fought in the Russian revolution together ✨???????... unless??

Two people flirt in a poor place of town/

"If you ask me what I've got under this dirty, shapeless tunic one more time I swear to god I will kick your rotting teeth in"

You look like ur gonna kill me but ok

Really? You again?

Okay, I’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes, do you think it’s safe to—oh god, he’s still there.

Have you seen Godot?

she is tired of everyone’s shit. she has done so many derivatives it physically pains her to see a variable. dont test her. ur icarus rn.

idk pick better pictures-- I HAVE DIED THE SHEER AUDACITY AND HUBRIS I LOVE THIS

200% done with your crap 

Homeless man has fucking legs of steel n is gonna show off his Russian dance moves

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2019 staging of Paul Dukas’ Ariane et Barbe-bleue, featuring Sophie Koch (right) as Ariane and I don’t remember who the person on the left is rip me

Responses:

The knight who wore this into battle sure was swaggy

dear god its hiddeous

Capitalism

Knight in shining armour gone even more wrong.

ghost contemplates the safety of spiky motorcycle helmet

„Stop! He feels bullied!“

'this is my newest take for jesus's crucifixion crown ...... what do you mean they already put him up'

That’s probably a really expensive magic helmet idk. IDK-- closest

Omg I love the adventure zone!

minesweeper (windows xp)

"Okay whatever you do don't touch the shiny spiky ball" "It's so shiny I wanna touch it"

Taking down the trash way too late

IT'S NOT A PHASE MOM

Darth Vader got stuck in the freezer.... again. Leia isn’t happy

Star Wars 2030

“And here is the very latest in motorcycle helmet trends” “Look, I only came to the mall for a pair of socks “

futuristic kkk

long-suffering jewelry store attendant really wants to retire

Put it down put it down put it down

“Hmm no you should see a doctor about that”

A weird ass crown is presented

The creation of sars-cov-2: an experimental Eurotrance nightclub art piece gone horribly wrong

How it feels to want something that u cant have

AND WE WILL CALL IT—SPIKE MAN actually do you think that’s too obvious?? Because of the—yeah, because of the spikes?? See, that’s what I’m worried about. I want it to be SCARY

I know it's risky but... lube me up

?

use the force luke.

that is a weird fleshlight

When you get an ugly gift and need to find a way to get rid of it, so your family member/friend offers to smash it

Touch the orb

originally taken from: the Opera Vlaanderen’s 2019 staging of Fromental Halévy’s La Juive, with Nicole Chevalier (left, with bottle) as Princess Eudoxie, Enea Scala (center, under table) as Prince Léopold, and Roy Cornelius Smith (right) as Éléazar

Responses:

When no one comes to your birthday party :(

fantastic, day 487 of mischief and they have yet to find my masterful hiding spot

i really wonder who he thinks he's playing footsie with

Marriage crisis. Reason sits under the table-- closest but not in the way you think (after all, the man under the table IS a tenor).

the last supper afterparty after jesus left

When you order the last supper on wish

espionage at the Politischer Rosenmontag

Probably the wrong opera but is that Leporello under the table

Now THIS is a Good Friday night

this was every birthday party i went to between the ages of 5 and 11

that awkward moment when you drop your fork under the table but when you re-emerge everyone else has left except one drunk lady and the guy trying to deal with her

After the last supper

Tfw you arrive to the dinner party too early and have to hide until a more fashionable hour

When the cishets aren’t home

waiter hides from customers

Nobody: My dog every time I’m eating:

what's left of the homies Jesus had dinner with

university chem lab experiment gone terribly wrong

I’ve been under the table FOR 30 MINUTES

Set your friends up by tossing them off under the table, they’ll think it’s each other n fall in luv

Someone hids under a table

"You're about to see an surreptitious-under-the-table-dick-sucking master at work"

5 yr old me trying to eat the desert under the table without my parents finding out be like:

They never invite me to their parties!

Just another girl’s night in

Oops! Didn’t notice you the table.

dionysus - bts (2019, colorized)

just a normal episode of eric andre (eric is the one under the table)

Just a normal day with the boys

Thievery

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Kate Aldrich (left, surrounded by women in white) as Fidès and John Osborn (center, looking like a Jesus doppelganger) as Jean de Leyde

Responses:

Hold up, is that Eggman above Jesus?

holy disco

Looks like Tannhäuser. Our lord and saviour Richard Wagner. Now I need to be saved from that.

catholicism

me defending pineapple on pizza (THANK YOU)

jesus but hes about to be abducted by the alien ufo above him

Emmmmmmm Heaven? Idk

Lord of the rings?

ewww christianity gross

"behold, I am Important"

"Seriously?? It's not ACTUALLY pyjama day? Fuck you guys!"

Jesus at the Disco

Jesus Finds The Molerat People Who Live Under Bethlehem

disco is heaven

Want to join my new religion?

the kkk

church christmas pageant where everyone's sober but it's based on the director's fever dream

Am I the only one who sees the giant demon? Just me? Okay...

“Oh god I think I’m starting my period”

A party is held with a priest in the middle

"Let's get this secret Vatican sex party rolling!"

The new avengers endgame set is looking great!!

You know, guys, I try not to be a bother but...I can’t help but feel like I missed a dress code memo for this wedding??? It’s cocktail, right??”

Jesus visits Hogwarts

I must really stink if no one will even come close to me

the extra ass funeral i DESERVE

star wars life day

A cult at it’s best-- closest

Shrek 5, Jesus is still there I guess

originally taken from: the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden’s 2013 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Les vêpres siciliennes, featuring Bryan Hymel (left, standing) as Henri, Lianna Haroutounian (center, kneeling in the black gown) as Duchess Hélène, and Erwin Schrott (kneeling to her right) as Jean Procida

Responses:

When the director’s like “great rehearsal guys, just a few notes before I let you go” but it’s already 9:13 and your mom’s waiting in the parking lot

loyalist of subjects

bow before your queen

They forgot to take down the stage boxes after the Vienna opera ball but the show must go on.

somebody forgot to book chairs for this funeral

Me sharing God’s (Hayley koyoko) word on the discord server

mass execution bc the oboe solo sucked ass-- closest

That’s too many black suits I can’t see shit

I can’t even tell what’s going on here

8th grade school assembly about how it's uncool to shit on the walls at school

let's all get fancy so we can go to the opera and sit on the stage (idk this one's hard lol)

"Yes i am a time traveller, now don't freak out"

Tfw you forget to pay your lighting bills

White guys make decisions that will benefit them and screw someone that’s not a white guy over-- OUCH but that is too real (although not really in context here)

dead man gives speech at his own funeral

brotus and the boys ??? last meeting before the stabbing

high society social function ends in mass murder-- right opera, wrong scene

Someone walks into the talent show stage with a dog

Black-dressed bitches worship a man.

Worst school assembly of all time

POV:You're the window in the classroom and someone said "its snowing"

When the conductor shows up fashionably late to the orchestra concert

That's what you get for choosing the cheapest ticket option, get back in the mud where you belong

?

theyre just trying to jump into a grave at a funeral leabe them alone this is normal

oh my god he really whipped his dick out in front of everyone, this is just like in 1776 guys, except some women are actually in the room this time,

A funeral, stop wearing so much black

I want to slap their bald heads like rice

originally taken from: the Teatro Real Madrid’s 2018 staging of Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, featuring Roberto Tagliavini (right) as Raimondo

Responses:

Crowd “haha!! Looks like someone missed the all-black memo!! Now it’s laugh-in-your-face time! / Guy on the floor (whispering to guy against wall): go, save yourself! I’ll hold them off...”

if i leave now i wont be a witness and can tell the police i had no idea

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Guy in the back pretends to help but is to far away to even know what’s going on.

priest walks in on beginning of an orgy, contemplated joining but is too scared-

when someone brings up capitalism but you’re just trying to play minecraft

lol lets trample this guy while the judge isnt looking

Again. Too many black costumes

Loved this Dostoevsky novel

i would know if opera directors were more creative with clothing choices ngl

me on parties lol

"imma just sneak out of here while everyone else is distracted"

"Where did he get this flooring!? Amazing!"

Everyone act normal!

The tell tale heart but they got REALLY drunk

man tposes to ward off vampires after being caught undercover

boys ???? night

the priest really shouldn't have visited the insane asylum-- closest

He’s FINE everyone’s been hit by a car before

Something happens in a room.

Perks of being a wallflower

There's always that one person in the fight whos trying not to get involved when they really wanna

Oh good, they’re all posing for a Rembrandt painting, I can just sneeeeaaak out the back here...

The gamer livestreaming Resident Evil + everyone watching the stream ? waiting for him to open the door just knowing it will trigger a chase scene

Quick!

the guy t posing in the back is regretting his every decision.-- also accurate

the us senate jumps ted cruz, some other wack ass gop senator is trying to sneak away

...I spoke too soon, however this is a James Bond mission

Queers help fellow queer do math but it's a struggle

[revolution-must-happen]

Holi: The cruel darkness behind the festival of colors?

“Holi Festival” Why do we celebrate? Whose success is the Holi festival a symbol of?

Background:

*Gurukulam: Traditional School

*Mulnivasi: the farmers, artisans and locals settled in Indian subcontinent before 5000BC during Indus-valley-civilization (IVC), until the invasion of Aryans happened(2500BC-1700BC), who were completely erased off their culture. Today they form about 80% of Indian Population. Scheduled classes(22%) Scheduled Tribes(7%) Backward Classes(52%), together they are also referred to as Bahujans.

**Brahmans: They performed priestly acts, and count about 2% of Indian population. They performed rituals of sacrifice and induced belief and fear in people, making them controllers of God. Vedas were their holy scriptures, where they wrote: “adhyapanam, adhyayanam cha yejanam, yaajanam, thatha daanam prathigrahachaivaha, brahmana nama kalpayeth” “Learning and Teaching are sole-rights of Brahmans exclusively. To offer prayers to God, to Seek prayers from God, to give or take Offerings/Donations are all exclusively reserved for them.” “Samastha lokam Daivadeenaam, Daivadeenamtu Mantraadeenam, Tan Mantram Brahmanadeenam, Brahmano mama Daivatah” “The whole universe is under the control of God, God is under the control of Mantras, These Mantras are under the control of Brahmans, hence, Brahmans are ultimate Gods.” They created fear in people about their well-being, and suggest to perform a ritual, which costs them anything from a Chicken, to a lamb to a Cow.. up-to their own Wife or Daughter.. They convince the Mulnivasis “No pain - No gain” and the poor man is left with “Pain” while the Priest is left with “Gain”. So they used to earn their living, not by hard-work, but by squeezing the sweat out of the Mulnivasis. They graded people into different classes or Varnas, 20% (Priestly, Warrior, Businessmen) and Laborers (80%). Four things to be noted here: 1. Ritual Sacrifices of Animals, Livestock, Grain, fruits of Labor, etc. 2. Women sacrifices, they abused their power to sexually exploit Women. 3. Alcohol was highly praised, and it is glorified throughout Vedas 4. Lies and Theft. (Astrology, Rituals from Birth to Death thereby forcefully squeezing benefits in the name of Offerings) Even the history of Buddha was distorted by the Brahmans, but the main reason Buddha came to existence is due to the injustice happening to common man in terms of exploitation. He was the first revolutionary in the world, who reformed the society spiritually, communally, socially, with equality and fraternity on the basis of the following core principles: Do not Lie, Do not Steal, Do not kill Animals, Do not allow prostitution. Buddha since childhood was against injustice and wanted equality, by the time of Buddha, the Indus Valley Civilization which was matriarchal and based on humanity, was completely destroyed and became Male-dominated society of the Aryans. Due to Buddhism(600BC), the Brahmanism was completely wiped out till south-east Asia. But their minds did not change, and poisoned Buddha at the age of 85 to kill him. Slowly they regained their power, and destroyed all the Buddhist Monasteries (Aramas) and established Vedic religion until 300BC. Then came the “King Ashoka the Great” who established Buddhism big-time and spread it much further. This was the only “Golden Era of India” during which the GDP of his dynasty was about 1/3rd of the whole world. Until his 10th grandson “Brihadratha” who was killed by his own Brahman-General(Pushya Mitra Shunga) by deceit. Again the Brahmanism regained its glory with Shungas. The Monasteries meant for gaining knowledge and donations for the well-being of the society, was occupied by Brahmans, who made reforms at a very slow rate. These were slowly converted to Temples and centers of belief, fear, exploitation, and idol worship. Between 200BC and 200AD was the Constitution of Brahmanism created by “Manu” which is called “Manusmriti”. This document divided people into 4 Varnas, and created a rigid form of hierarchical-discriminatory society, where intermixing of Blood was banned ever-since, even until today for over 2000 years.

***Vishnu: This guy has taken every possible Avatar. Rama, Krishna, Vemana, Hari,.. and so on. By this you must understand, how important this guy is, that’s why he sits in the Richest temple of the World “Tirumala-Tirupati”. Not only that, they got to the extent of including Buddha as an Avatar of Vishnu. Why? They decorated a Buddha statue with ornaments and lady Goddesses beside him, then obviously to cover up, they need to create stories, right? So Buddha according to them, took the 10th avatar of Vishnu. They owned Buddha here. They owned the Buddhist non-violent way of life. They gave up Beef eating. They became Vegetarians.

But Buddha out-rightly rejected afterlife, soul and rebirth. How then, can they claim Buddha to be an avatar of Vishnu? Rather, take all his credit, and render him useless, that's what they did, that's what corrupt politicians do these days, i guess they learnt it long ago with Brahmanism. Exactly, even today, over 70% of all top positions in India in 2021 are held by this 2% community.

The versions of stories:

Ever since the Buddhism has been erased off the face of India by the Vedic religions(Aryans), the actual history has been patched-up with so called Neo-hinduistic(Brahmanism) religion, and several distorted stories have been built-up to make the innocent uneducated, as well as educated Indians their slaves. Several stories have been published and popularized behind the reason for Holi celebration: 1. Holika: A demoness who was threatening the village during night, to avoid her, burn huge fire at night and get rid of her. 2. Hiranyakashyapa: A king who did several hundreds of years of Penance, receives impossible powers from God Brahma to conquer death. He can not die on earth or sky, from human or animal, and many impossible fantasies. Having gained such great powers, he wants to prove his authority as God himself, and tortures the people of all the 14 worlds(Only god knows 14 worlds, I know only this planet Earth!). To suppress his Nonsense, his son Prahlada took avatar of Vishnu(another God also known as Hari) and he successfully kills his father performing various tricks, ultimately as Narasimha(Half lion-half human) avatar. 3. Prahlada: He was tortured by his father(Hiranyakashyapa) in several ways, with snakes, burnt him, etc.. But Holika, the sisterof Hiranyakashyapa had special power of protection from not burning by a special Shawl. Obedient Prahalada was ordered by his father to jump into the fire in the hands of Holika. So he took the order and Jumped. At the moment of entering the flame, he prayed to Vishnu, so Vishnu vanished the shawl from Holika and replaced it on Hiranyakashyapa, meanwhile Holika got burnt in her own fire. So to pay respect to Holika, holi is celebrated! Hope it makes any sense/ logic, but this is what the story says! 4. Banasura/Mahabali: Vamana(Dwarf Avatar of Vishnu) came to Mahabali (a benevolent king who has special powers against death) and requested to place his three steps on land. The Dwarf Vamana placed one step on earth, one step on heaven, and Mahabali offered his head for third step. (Don’t ask the logic behind 3 steps, and how! lol) Then Vishnu unveils his real Giant avatar after stepping on Mahabali’s head. His son Banasura, insulted by Vishnu’ foot stamping on his father’s head, Banasura chased Vamana to death and killed him by starvation! Succesors of Vamana: Brahmadi Upadyaya performed a death ritual known as “Dahanam” 5. Kama Dahanam: One crazy story! Shiva and his wife Shakti/Parvati were in deep Meditation (due to their own personal reasons), life sustenance in the world was in trouble due to Yoga of Shakti and Shiva, while the Demons wreaked havoc on the other Devas(Gods). These demons could only be killed by son of Shiva+Parvati. No to disturb their meditation, the Devas decide to approach god of love Kamadeva, to generate Lust between Shiva and Shakti. Devas threatened to curse him if he doesn’t oblige, so better to die in eyes of Shiva than this cheap bargain, Kamadeva decided to shoot arrow of Love on Shiva. And Shiva opens his third-eye, Kamadeva is burnt to ash! Upon request of all Gods, Shiva forgave Kamadeva and offers his life back, but he can be seen by none other that his wife Rathidevi. Kamadeva also referred as Ananga(one without his part), or you might’ve guessed right?

6. Buddhist Literature: Celebrate festival with five colors. Five colors depict Pancha-sheela( five-qualities). This day is also celebrated as the day when Buddha visited to his place of Birth. In Magadhi language during King Ashoka’s times, Dholi/Tholi which means “cradle” or “swinging” is found on inscriptions as a significant day of celebration. “Dahanam” means burning. In Buddhism, the following three things to be burnt: i. “Burning the Body” means Abandoning the body/bodily desires ii. Immoral/Negative Emotions iii. Immoral/Negative Thoughts Buddha achieved all the three. Kollata/Dandiya: Playing/Dancing two sticks. Each person holds two small sticks and according to music, the make moves and clap their sticks. A group dance, the history which can be found way back from a skit of 700AD which describes Ashoka times. Narasimha suktam: which was written by Buddha’s wife and people of his time, mentions several things during this Period of the year. A period of 15 days during Spring-Summer, when family gatherings happened, a beautiful period when couples were left to know each other. Joyful and playful times. Meanwhile, the Monks could get busy with burning the evil within them.

Coming back to the Main Story:

Asura: one who doesn’t consume Sura/wine Sura: one who consumes Sura/alcohol All the kings of Mulnivasis were named Asuras. All Asuras were depicted as Demons. All those who went against the Brahman supremacy of Education to the Privileged few, were labelled as Demons. All these Demons somehow, illogically, according to their own stories, caused disruption to the Devas/Suras/Gods. The Brahmans/Gods punished them, killed them, eliminated them by hook or crook. They then created distorted stories. The forbid learning/reading/hearing/speaking of Vedas, Puranas, and their holy Texts, for one reason. Uneducated, and illiterate are bound to believe what is told to them. But the distorted, illogical stories make sense as long as you are illiterate, or blinded by belief. There is no rationality involved. There is no questioning allowed.

To speak bullshit and to not confronting questions, the best way to achieve this? BAN READING, WRITING, LEARNING! So intelligent they were in sketching such a plan, but so unintelligent that they created such stupid stories, which, if you ask more than 2 questions, they need to disappear, or you need to disappear. Coz there's no logic, there's no connection, there's no sense, or just that it’s nonsense.

Unaware of this, the indigenous Bahujans of India (mulnivasis), on the occasion of the “Holi festival”, some of the Brahman and Marwari communities burn a picture of Ravanasura (This guy is totally irrelevant here, but again, a famous Demon, celebrated for his death on every occasion possible: Dussera, Diwali and so on) under the name of “Kama Dahanam” at night. The festival is celebrated by burning the Effigy overnight and sprinkling with colors during the day.

The reason is the tragedy of the murder of “Holika”, the native daughter of this country. Ignorant and misinformed indigenous people who do not know the history, sing “Anandakeli Rangeli” while begging, as a tradition they keep doing this. And for some who wait the whole year for Holi to come, so they can beg and earn their living for the rest of the year.. Was it a tradition of hardcore Holi-fanaticism, to wait all year for begging on this special day? Or was it a punishment imposed, on some sections and Communities, to hide the truth?

Today, we sprinkle colors, drink alcohol, eat meat and go to sleep.

The king of these natives (mulnivasi), Hiranyakashipu with his son Prahlada would recite Harinama in Gurukulam, the Aryans conspired to teach Haribhakti(devotion to Hari). Hiranyakashipu introduces in Gurukuls, education with a different idea than Aryan education in his kingdom, completely revolutionary and against the Aryan way of education.

The Aryans, who cannot tolerate this, try to provoke the father and son into a fight. Blinded by belief of the words of enemy “Hari”, Hiranyakashipu’s younger sister “Holika” tries to please her son-in-law Prahlada that he must obey his father. Seeing this, the Aryan king Vishnu pushes Holika into fire, kills her to death, in order to thwart Holika’s attempt to pacify Father and Son. The day of the most brutal murder of a woman in our history is celebrated in the name of a festival.

The time has come to unravel the wounds from the bottom-pit of history, the conspiracies of the descendants of Manusmriti who are burying themselves with us, by lying concocted and irrelevant, nonsensical stories. Children of Manu, are scared and confused and shivering, in hope that their fake reason-less, proof-less stories, do have an end!

Long Live “Holika” Long Live indigenous Martyrs..! Mahatma Phule, Savitri Bai, Babasaheb Ambedkar, Pulan Devi, Rohit Vemula are rewriting history. As we see that the heritage is expanding all over this country, so is the demystification, decrypting the Parasite brain of Manu and his successors. The oncoming scene is clear.

They will hide as many facts, they will recruit as many Babas and Gurus. They will create as many gods, they will create as many festivals, but the truth still remains! To patch up a lie, a new lie is to be told, to cover up the death, a new god is created… They keep lying, and we keep uncovering their lies…

Jai Bhim! Jai Insaan!

[chilling-seavey]

HIIIIIIIII EMILYYYY! Can our lovely ABM girls paint Daniels nails? It may not be the best job, but he loves them because his kids did them. Like maybe he goes to work or just out someplace and someone mentions it and (like the proud dad he is) looks at the person and goes “yeah my girls did them” + *fond smile* THANK YOUUUU 💜💜💜

Love you Hope hehe this was a cute idea. Also to that anon that was in their feels too…hope this suffices!

Sunday, June 17, 2029

“Stay still.” Lucy demanded, pressing Daniel’s hand down flat against the small wooden table. Her other hand held the small nail polish brush that had a large dollop of pink glitter on the end that was ready to make a whole mess of her poor father’s hands. Daniel looked like a giant sitting at the small white table that had been with the girls for nearly ten years as they grew up and was now solely claimed by the youngest as she approached five-years-old.

The oldest two sisters also sat on the other two wooden chairs, each a bit big too but not terribly so. They watched as Lucy pressed the brush to his pinky finger, smearing pink sparkly paint all over it.

She finished her one and Clementine reached for the brush, “My turn.”

“No!” Lucy yanked the jar and Daniel’s hand away from her eldest sister, nearly pulling off his finger as she did so, “I do it.”

“Hey, hey, it’s Father’s Day, not Youngest Daughter Day. I want all my girls to paint my nails.” Daniel said gently. “You’ll each get three, okay?”

Lucy glared at him but agreed.

Penelope and Clementine shared little smiles across the small table at the independence of their youngest sister.

Lucy continued her work, jamming the brush back in the bottle to scoop up far too much polish to slather onto his right ring finger. It blotched over his skin and got onto the paper towel that Florence had tucked under their workspace but Lucy thought she was doing the darn best job.

Clementine went next, switching spots with Lucy so she could sit at a proper angle. As the oldest at ten, she was careful to swipe off the excess paint before getting to work, gently holding her father’s hand off the table as she brushed a few strokes over the nail on his right index finger first. The girls were too young to pay attention to it but Florence sure saw it; Daniel’s proud little smile as he stared at his eldest calmly as she put her focus into her work.

When she finished, she leaned down to blow lightly on the wet polish, smiling at her slightly smudgy work but it was certainly better than Lucy’s.

Penelope was last, taking her spot across from Daniel and shuffled the chair closer under the table. She dabbed the brush in the small jar and swirled out a small dollop of pink glitter. With a gentle sweep to the side of the glass – just like how her paint pots worked – she leaned down carefully towards his hand. She gently set her left hand on top of Daniel’s and her tongue poked out as she drew the first steady stripe.

Lucy, who was standing between them at the table held her hands against the top and leaned closer until the workspace was almost completely in her shadow.

“Can you move?” Penelope muttered, not tearing her eyes from her steady hand.

“Mine’s better.” Lucy stated flatly.

“Hey. Don’t be mean.” Daniel tisked softly as he tucked his ring finger under his palm.

Penelope glanced up at him but moved onto his pinky as her third without an argument. She was not even nine-years-old but she had the steady artist’s hand to put either of her sisters to shame and she sat back with a pleased smile.

“All done.”

“Wow.” Daniel lifted his hands up to admire their work, wiggling his fingers slightly in the sun that was coming in through the window and made the pink glitter sparkle, “They look beautiful.”

“You’re missing one!” Lucy pointed out loudly.

“You’re right.” Daniel said.

“I can do it!” Lucy offered, already lunging for the polish.

“No, no. One special spot for my fourth lady.” Daniel said, glancing over his shoulder to the hallway where Florence had been watching from the doorway. “Wouldn’t even be celebrating Father’s Day without this one.” He nodded her over and Florence joined them at the small wooden table, kneeling down between Lucy and Penelope and she was handed the small bottle.

The girls watched in awe as their mother skillfully finished the set of ten, cleaning up the glittery edges of the nail on his wedding ring finger, saved specially for her.

The girls gushed politely over their mother’s work and Florence just smiled sweetly as she screwed back on the cap of the bottle. Daniel was instructed to sit and wait for his hands to dry while the girls got dressed for the day and he waited patiently, left with a kiss from his wife to tide him over.

They ended up going for lunch down by the lake, each of the girls in spring dresses and little necklaces and flats. They were sat at a table by the window in the restaurant and Clementine and Lucy worked on a little maze in the kid’s menu together while Penelope sat perfectly still and straight and stared out the window like a little proper lady, twirling the end of her dress around her finger. Florence slid her hand across the table and Daniel smiled over at her and tucked their fingers together before glancing back down at his menu.

The server came over to take their orders but of course had to stop to compliment Daniel’s nails.

“Thank you. My girls did them.” Daniel beamed, glancing at his three children all busy with whatever they were doing.

“With three daughters we’ll never have to pay for a manicure again.” Florence added jokingly.

[mst3kproject]

Voodoo Island

Leonard Maltin thought this movie was boring, which is, honestly, kind of terrifying.  Its ostensible star is Boris Karloff, who somehow managed to avoid ever being on MST3K, but it was produced by Howard Koch, the director of Untamed Youth, and was written by Richard Laundau, who did the same for Lost Continent (uhoh).  It’s also got Jean Engstrom from The Space Children, and if the voice of the radio operator sounds familiar that’s because it’s 🎶 Adam Weeeeeest.

A hotel company wants to build a resort on a tropical island, but the scouting party they sent never came back – except for one guy, Mitchell, who has been reduced to a catatonic state by whatever it was he saw there.  Worried, the hotelier sends renowned skeptic Mr. Knight to find out if it’s true that the island is under some kind of voodoo curse.  After much wasting of the audience’s time, Knight’s party reaches the island and finds it infested with man-eating plants, coconut crabs, and unfriendly natives.  I wish I could tell you more of the plot, but that’s basically all there is.

Voodoo Island is unusual as bad movies go, in that you don’t actually realize how bad it is until it’s over.  Things that seem to be the plot move merrily along, always feeling like it’s building up to something cool… and then at the last moment it just deflates like a gas station tube man with his fan turned off.  In hindsight, the audience realizes that very little of what they just saw had anything to do with what was supposedly going on. In many ways, you never do find out what was going on at all!

The middle section of this movie is not quite as obviously padded as Lost Continent with its endless rock climbing, but almost all of it is, retrospectively, pointless.  On the first leg of their journey to the island, the party’s plane is caught in a storm and forced to make an emergency landing – only to find that the weather has mysteriously cleared right up!  After repairing their radio they set off again, and nothing much comes of the incident.  They stop on another island where they have trouble hiring a boat, and where somebody puts a curse of some sort on them.  Nothing comes of this.  Later still, their boat stalls out and refuses to start again, even after they’ve cleared a blocked fuel line.  This has no real consequences, because the tide carries them in anyway, and the movie never deals with what happens when they try to leave the island again.

Along for the ride is Mitchell, the guy who was so terrified by what he saw on the island that he hasn’t moved or spoken since. He has a couple of medical emergencies that resolve themselves without long-term consequences, and then simply drops dead before they ever reach the island.  They don’t learn anything from him or his condition.  A similar fate later befalls another character, Finch, but this time the movie ends before he has a chance to either die or snap out of it. Mitchell is only in this movie to make it longer, and possibly so it could claim it had a zombie.

With the movie already half-over, we finally reach this mysterious island.  The group are greeted by a trail of clues that make Knight thing somebody is trying to lead them somewhere… perhaps to answers, perhaps to a trap.  Eventually they’re captured by the natives, but there’s no reason they had to be in a particular place for this to happen – the natives have been following them the whole time and could have intervened at any point.  None of this stuff reads as padding because it feels like it’s going to lead to something.  Again, it’s only when the credits unexpectedly start to roll that you realize almost the whole movie was irrelevant.

Padding is not Voodoo Island’s only problem – the dialogue is awkward at best.  Most of it is on a Revenge of the Sith level, where characters just say exactly what they’re thinking in a way that might have sounded poetic on paper but just doesn’t work out loud.  The boat captain, Gunn, gets a Gunslinger moment in which he narrates his traumatic backstory in a single talking head shot.  Knight is forever going on about Rational Explanations and then suddenly declares his change of heart when confronted with a voodoo doll.  There’s no meat to this arc at all, no sense of Knight questioning his worldview or coming to terms with anything – he just says I do believe! like he’s in a Santa Claus movie and then it’s over.

The worst of both the dialogue and the supposed character arcs occur in the love story.  There are girls in this movie, so of course there has to be a love story, and it’s terrible.  The lady half of this one is Knight’s assistant Miss Adams, who is very poised and professional and doesn’t smoke or drink, and spends the first half of the movie being tutted at by just about everybody.  The other woman in the group, Claire, tells her she could just be so pretty if she’d only change the way she did her hair.  Gunn calls her a ‘machine’ and asks if she even knows how to be a woman.  This raises some hackles in the modern viewer, who wants to see Adams appreciated for what she is rather than what she has the potential to be if she changes everything about herself.

But Voodoo Island was made in the fifties, when changing yourself to please a man was what women aspired to!  Miss Adams therefore swears off being a nerd and kisses Gunn, whose main personality trait is being a stunning asshole.  He’s drunk and bitter, and earlier in the movie he tried to hit on Claire, who had to tell him to fuck off about four times before he got the idea.  Later he insults and threatens Adams because her intelligence makes him feel like less of a man.  Apparently one kiss from her completely undoes his PTSD and he’s a better person now.

These two getting together also totally dismisses the healthy and supportive friendship Adams has with Knight, who is not only her boss but has some fatherly affection for her.  He praises her work ethic and tells her that she shouldn’t listen to people who think she’s boring.  I guess we’re supposed to think it’s good that she quits working for him so she can run off with a drunk who’s threatened to slap her, because Gunn will make her life more exciting.

At the supposed climax, the natives (an assortment of ethnic-looking extras who never speak) take the group prisoner, and they are brought before the chief (a white guy in dark makeup), who tells them why outsiders aren’t allowed on the island.  The prisoners are taken to a hut where they are tied up.  One of them is possibly murdered by voodoo, and then the chief… just lets the rest of them leave.  No conditions specified, although it’s implied that the islanders have more voodoo dolls and plenty of pins.  We don’t even find out if they actually made it back.  To get to their boat, the party will have to pass back through the carnivorous jungle without a guide, and once they reach the beach, they’ll have to fix their engine.  It really feels like there ought to have been more of a climax, never mind a denouement. As the credits begin, I was just going, “that’s it?”

The actors are mostly mediocre.  Boris Karloff tries really hard to rise above the material but never gets there, which is understandable when his lines are things like, “no, you fool, they’ll slaughter us to bits!”.  All this badness really is a terrible shame, too, because Voodoo Island’s setpiece monsters, the man-eating plants, are actually incredibly cool.  They never look real, but they’re much more creative than the standard giant Venus’ flytrap.  There’s a thing that wraps long bean-like leaves around a swimmer and drowns her, another than catches its victims with a sticky bulbous stem, and yet a third that folds ferny fronds around prey and digests it!  A movie that made proper use of these monsters would be a great time. I hope the prop people went on to the better things they deserved.

(At the other end of the effects scale are the coconut crabs I mentioned.  These are not actual coconut crabs, but dead specimens of some other, much more gracile species.  This, too, is unfortunate, because coconut crabs are living crustacean nightmares capable of killing and eating seagulls.  One theory about Amelia Earhart’s ultimate fate is that she was devoured by coconut crabs.)

As for Voodoo Island having anything to say… it has some kind of muddled point about not dismissing the supernatural out of hand, but its ‘magic’ is pretty lame, and Knight’s arc is handled so badly that it passes by without making much of an impression.  The story does seem to have another possible theme, though.  As usual I can’t tell if this is intentional or not, but Voodoo Island seems to have something to say about concepts of ownership.

The hotelier has taken an interest in the island because he did an inventory of his properties and discovered he owned it. How he came to do so, we have no idea… it must have been sold to him by somebody else who’d likewise never been there, since the tribal chief tells us that Mitchell and his companions were the first white men to ever go there.  What made that person think they owned it?  Does the concept of ownership even mean anything when you don’t know that you own something?  Does owning something entitle you to destroy it?

The natives own the island in the much less abstract sense that they live there.  The chief tells the party that his people went to this island on purpose, because they thought its nasty flora would keep white people from following them there. They want no part of modern civilization, and seem completely unaware that somebody outside their community is claiming he owns this land.  Whether the idea of ‘owning’ land is even a meaningful one to them, we can’t tell. When the Lenape allowed the Dutch to live on Manhattan Island, they probably had no idea the settlers would consider the land exclusively theirs.

These are some things that still need thinking about in the twenty-first century, and if you’re going to watch Voodoo Island do it for that and for the fun monsters.  Even then, you’re likely to be disappointed.

[newstfionline]

Monday, July 5, 2021

Jimmy, Rosalynn Carter mark 75 years of ‘full partnership’ (AP) The young midshipman needed a date one evening while he was home from the U.S. Naval Academy, so his younger sister paired him with a family friend who already had a crush. Nearly eight decades later, Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter are still together in the same tiny town where they were born, grew up and had that first outing. In between, they’ve traveled the world as Naval officer and military spouse, American president and first lady, and finally as human rights and public health ambassadors. “It’s a full partnership,” the 39th president told The Associated Press during a joint interview ahead of the couple’s 75th wedding anniversary on July 7. It will be another milestone for the longest-married presidential couple in American history. At 96, Carter also is the longest-lived of the 45 men who’ve served as chief executive. Yet even having reached that pinnacle, Carter has said often since leaving the Oval Office in 1981 that the most important decision he ever made wasn’t as head of state, commander in chief or even executive officer of a nuclear submarine in the early years of the Cold War. Rather, it was falling for Eleanor Rosalynn Smith in 1945 and marrying her the following summer. “My biggest secret is to marry the right person if you want to have a long-lasting marriage,” Carter said.

Tropical Storm Elsa nears Cuba amid fears of flooding (AP) Tropical Storm Elsa swept along Cuba’s southern coast early Monday, and forecasters said it could make landfall on the island’s central shore by midafternoon. By Sunday, Cuban officials had evacuated 180,000 people as a precaution against the possibility of heavy flooding from a storm that already battered several Caribbean islands, killing at least three people. Most of those evacuated stayed at relatives’ homes, others went to government shelters, and hundreds living in mountainous areas took refuge in caves prepared for emergencies. Elsa was forecast to cross over Cuba by Monday night and then head for Florida, where Gov. Ron DeSantis declared a state of emergency in 15 counties, including in Miami-Dade County, where a high-rise condominium building collapsed last week.

Brazil Vaccine Scandal Imperils Bolsonaro as Protests Spread (NYT) The plot twists of a coronavirus vaccine kickback scandal that has rattled Brazil’s capital have been worthy of a reality TV show. The main stage has been a congressional hearing room, where scores of witnesses have been shedding light on the government’s chaotic response to the pandemic, which has killed more than 520,000 in the country. There has been plenty of yelling as the audacity and scope of a scheme by health ministry officials to solicit bribes from vaccine dealers have come into focus. The outrage drew tens of thousands of Brazilians to protest across several cities on Saturday, the third large wave of demonstrations in recent weeks. Much about the scandal, which federal prosecutors are investigating, remains unclear and in dispute. But the widening inquiry is likely to pose a major threat to President Jair Bolsonaro’s re-election bid next year—and perhaps even to his ability to serve out the remainder of his term.

Cyber attack against U.S. IT provider forces Swedish chain to close 800 stores (Reuters) The Swedish Coop grocery store chain closed all its 800 stores on Saturday after a ransomware attack on an American IT provider left it unable to operate its cash registers. Hundreds of American businesses were hit on Friday by an unusually sophisticated attack that hijacked widely used technology management software from a Miami-based supplier called Kaseya. According to Coop, one of Sweden’s biggest grocery chains, a tool used to remotely update its checkout tills was affected by the attack, meaning payments could not be taken. State railways services and a pharmacy chain also suffered disruption.

EU deploys assistance for Cyprus as huge forest fire rages (Reuters) The European Union on Saturday deployed aerial assistance to help Cyprus contain a huge forest fire raging north of the cities of Limassol and Larnaca, a blaze one official called the worst on record. The blaze, fanned by strong winds, affected at least six communities in the foothills of the Troodos mountain range, an area of pine forest and densely vegetated shrubland. “It is the worst forest fire in the history of Cyprus,” Forestries Department Director Charalambos Alexandrou told Cyprus’s Omega TV.

Japan’s leader pushes rescue after deadly mudslide hits town (AP) More than 1,000 soldiers, firefighters and police on Sunday waded through a giant mudslide that ripped through a resort town southwest of Tokyo, killing at least two people and leaving about 20 missing as it swept away houses and cars. Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga told reporters 19 people had been rescued, and 130 homes and other buildings were damaged in Atami. Two people were dead, but more were feared missing, he said speaking after an emergency Cabinet meeting. Earlier, disaster officials said 20 were unaccounted for, but warned the number may rise. Troops, firefighters and other rescue workers, backed by three coast guard ships, were working to clear the mud from the streets of Atami and reach those believed to be trapped or carried away. They were barely visible in the rainfall and thick fog except for the their hard hats. Six military drones were being flown to help in the search.

Some Chinese shun grueling careers for ‘low-desire life’ (AP) Fed up with work stress, Guo Jianlong quit a newspaper job in Beijing and moved to China’s mountain southwest to “lie flat.” Guo joined a small but visible handful of Chinese urban professionals who are rattling the ruling Communist Party by rejecting grueling careers for a “low-desire life.” That is clashing with the party’s message of success and consumerism as its celebrates the 100th anniversary of its founding. “Lying flat” is a “resistance movement” to a “cycle of horror” from high-pressure Chinese schools to jobs with seemingly endless work hours, novelist Liao Zenghu wrote in Caixin, the country’s most prominent business magazine. “In today’s society, our every move is monitored and every action criticized,” Liao wrote. “Is there any more rebellious act than to simply ‘lie flat?’” It isn’t clear how many people have gone so far as to quit their jobs or move out of major cities. Judging by packed rush hour subways in Beijing and Shanghai, most young Chinese slog away at the best jobs they can get. Still, the ruling party is trying to discourage the trend.

Myanmar forces kill 25 in raid on town, resident and media say (Reuters) Myanmar security forces killed at least 25 people on Friday in a confrontation with opponents of the military junta at a town in the centre of the Southeast Asian nation, a resident and Myanmar-language media said on Sunday. Myanmar has been plunged into chaos by the Feb. 1 coup against elected leader Aung San Suu Kyi, with violence flaring in many parts of the country of more than 53 million people.

Philippine military plane crashes, 45 dead, 49 rescued (AP) A Philippine air force C-130 aircraft carrying combat troops crashed in a southern province while landing Sunday, killing at least 42 army soldiers on board and three civilians on the ground, while 49 were rescued from the burning wreckage, officials said. Some soldiers were seen jumping off the aircraft before it crashed and exploded around noon in the periphery of the Jolo airport in Sulu province, military officials said. Three of six villagers who were hit on the ground have died.

Former South African president Jacob Zuma delays prison deadline with last-ditch legal maneuver (CNN) Jacob Zuma and his lawyers successfully delayed the former South African president’s prison sentence for contempt of court on Saturday when the country’s top court agreed to hear his application for a review of their decision to sentence him to 15 months in prison. In the application, 79-year-old Zuma and his lawyers claimed that the sentence threatened his life and that the Constitutional Court’s decision was unfair to their client. This comes after Zuma was ordered to hand himself in to a police station in his hometown Nkandla or Johannesburg by the end of this Sunday. Failing that, the police were given three days to bring him in. The Constitutional Court hearing will take place on July 12. Some legal analysts say the application is highly unlikely to succeed, but it buys Zuma more time.

Pope doing well after intestinal surgery, Vatican says (Reuters) Pope Francis is doing well following intestinal surgery, the Vatican said on Sunday after the 84-year-old pontiff was hospitalised for the first time since his election in 2013. Spokesman Matteo Bruni said in a statement that the pontiff "responded well" to the surgery, which was done under general aesthesia and which the Vatican had said earlier had been scheduled and not prompted by an emergency. Francis underwent surgery for symptomatic diverticular stenosis of the colon, a condition where sac-like pouches protrude from the muscular layer of the colon, leading it to become narrow. The operation was carried out by a 10-person medical team.

[sinner-as-saint]

Capital Letters 2

Bucky Barnes AU

 Part 1: Capital Letters.

 Big, BIG thanks to @pchynana for the suggestion. The idea they sent was incredible! They are a true ray of sunshine; a literal angel who is the sweetest ever and so easy to talk to! Show them some love, babies!

 Run-through: Heartbroken, betrayed and used, you managed to find a way to escape your heartless boss. Little did you know, that this act of yours would affect the arrogant beast in ways he couldn’t fathom; and may even lead him down the path of guilt?

 Themes: SMUT, slight non/con elements, language, angst

 A/N: Since none of you were having any of my sadistic fuckery, here’s another part of Capital Letters. Hope you like it! Also, is this turning into yet another series?!?!

   Two weeks later, a new you surfaced.

 Two weeks of seeing his smug face, and being his little helper; the torture was finally over. Two weeks later, you slapped your resignation letter on his dark, wooden desk – almost as dark as his heart, and walked out of his office without letting him have the last word.

You didn’t even bother to see his face. Which, again, was probably amused and glad that you were finally leaving.

You said your goodbyes to Peggy and walked out of the wretched office. You didn’t even turn around to spare it one last glance.

   Finding another job after that was a little bit difficult. Almost every interviewer pried to know why you had left your previous job. Given he was a rather well-known and respected persona, a damn good excuse was needed.

You always made up some lie about how the distance affected your life and how you believed that your wage was insufficient.

 You were applying for jobs relentlessly, giving out CVs and tried online applications like a mad woman. And finally one day, you received a letter from the team who worked for the one and only, Thor Odinson.

 Your eyes widened as you gradually took in each and every word they had written; black on white – an excitement formed in you.

Not only was Thor Odinson one of the best adventure and romance writers out there, but he was also the biggest competition to J.B Barnes.

People loved Thor Odinson, it’s just that he was always seconds best to J.B Barnes.

A sinister smirk formed on your face; guess life wasn’t planning on treating you like shit forever.

 You had applied for the position of a personal assistant. And the letter in your hand mentioned that you had been accepted for it.

You placed the carefully folded letter on your kitchen counter, and stared at the paper in joy and disbelief.

You were now, officially, Thor Odinson’s PA?!

  ---

  Working for Mr. Odinson was a pure delight. He was the complete opposite of the previous a-hole you worked for.

Thor was jovial, vibrant and gentle. The first time you walked into his office; you were intimidated by the man.

His short brown hair, his muscular body, his voice – they all made you feel so small. He had heterochromia and his eyes were the most striking and the most intimidating part of him.

But as you worked for him and formed a rather pleasant relationship with your new boss; you realized that he was a gentle giant. He was always so polite, and truly cared about those who worked with him.

 You made new friends at your new work place; two lovely ladies named Wanda and Natasha. They were vibrant beings as well.

You were content with what you had. You were much more confident, and a month and a half later – you were over Bucky.

You couldn’t forget him entirely, but he was like a bad dream. And the thought of him didn’t make you cry anymore, but every once in a while, when his name popped up on your social media, or any magazine; a void formed at the pit of your stomach.

Yet, you were certain that if you ever saw him, you’d be able to walk past him like he was just another stranger.

  And just like always, whenever you made any bold claims; life put you to test.

  ^^^

  Guilt.

Guilt was all he felt when the sound of the letter hitting his desk was heard. You didn’t even look at him, but he caught the pain on your face.

A pain he caused. A pain he was, heartlessly, responsible for.

He accepted the resignation, it was the least he could do.

Bucky knew what he did was wrong; immoral even. He had used you like a pawn in a game. He had toyed with you in the most selfish ways possible.

 The guilt consumed him.

However, on some days, his ego got the best of him.

 I’m J.B Barnes, I can do whatever I want.

He’d tell himself to fire up his dangerous ego.

Yet, when he heard the news that you were now working with Odinson – a wave of guilt and anger washed over him.

He hadn’t realized that he was keeping track of where you were. He wasn’t stalking you or anything, he just asked his team to keep an eye out of where you went next. And being his loyal pets, they did.

They informed him that you were now working for Odinson, as his personal assistant.

 He pretended that the news didn’t affect him. He pretended not to care about the fact that the woman he used for selfish purposes was now rubbing it in his face, and was also working for his biggest competition. He pretended that none of it affected him.

But it did.

 A strange feeling took over him the first time he accidentally ended up at the same restaurant where you and your new boss were having lunch along with another, red head. A colleague maybe?

A weird, unfamiliar feeling washed over him as he watched how you laughed at something Thor Odinson said.

An itch, a yearning probably; or perhaps was it an unhealthy infatuation?

He shouldn’t care. He told himself so over and over again.

Yet he found that he stayed there, unmoving, at the back of the spacious room, and didn’t leave until you did.

He noticed some changes in you. Was it your hair, was it shorter or longer? Was it your face, or the red lip you wouldn’t sport when you worked in his office?

Why did he care? You were just- just another girl he had fucked.

Right?

 He couldn’t believe how comfortable you were around Thor. You looked happier, you were glowing.

And he stroked his ego as he smirked, thinking about how the glow you had on right now was still no match to the one you had right after he had fucked you.

A strange fire formed inside him as he noticed the way Thor was looking at you, even in the presence of the other woman. He looked at you like you were the finest piece of art ever made. He looked at you with . . . pride?

Thor let his gaze roam over you. He looked enamored – by you.

 But then, Bucky realized that he was looking at you the same way. So, he lowered his eyes back to the screen of his phone - ashamed. Your laughter rang in his ear and for a second, just for a split second, he wished that he was the one to make you laugh like that instead.

 ^^^

  Having lunch with Thor and Natasha soon became a habit. Outside work, your boss was slightly more open. He was funnier and he could make you laugh like no one else.

However, each day, you had to deal with Nat’s daily dose of teasing – telling you how Thor “definitely has a crush on you.”

And every day, as a ritual, you had to tell her that “It’s nothing like that.”

 She’d roll her eyes at you, mumbling about how it was all too obvious.

 You could see why people would think that you and your boss were having a thing. You both spent all your time at work together, behind closed doors and wherever he went, you went with him.

He assigned a driver to pick you up in the morning and to drop you home in the evening because he’s nice like that.

From a third point of view, it could be seen as something it is not.

 Truth is, you didn’t want it to be more. You knew better than to get involved with your boss given your past experiences. You knew Thor was nothing like Bucky, but you were still very cautious of beautiful, powerful men who made you weak in your knees.

 ---

 Thor’s driver dropped you off at your apartment building and you thanked him, and rushed inside. As soon as you walked out of the elevator, and onto your floor; you couldn’t help but recognize the smell which lingered in the air.

Intense and fresh, it resembled the cologne of someone you knew. And despised at the same time.

 Cautiously, you walked towards your apartment door and mentally cursed as the scent had gotten heavier in the air.

If he was here, you would lose your shit.

 You rapidly unlocked your door and checked your watch in the process, it was quarter to nine. Dinner with Thor and Natasha was quickly becoming a thing as well.

It was rather late, he wouldn’t be here, would he?

 You walked into your own home with pure terror in your eyes. From the front door, you could see the living area perfectly, and the kitchen partly.

And there was no sign of an arrogant asshole. Yet, as weird as it sounds, you could smell his cologne in the air. Faint and lingering, it was definitely there. Unless, of course, you had collapsed into madness.

 You dropped your keys on the coffee table, and removed your heels. You stood in the middle of the living room and looked around – paranoid.

 The night was silent, and the only thing you could hear was your shallow breaths.

 You made your way into your bedroom, and as if life needed another way to kick you in the face – there he was, in all his glory, sitting on your couch, in your room, in your apartment.

 Bucky had found a way of making a comeback in your life.

  He looked up at you, a smug look on his face; mocking the fact that you believed you had gotten rid of him.

 “I’m gonna say this once, get the fuck out or I’m calling security,” you threw your purse on the bed and faced Bucky fearlessly.

He scoffed.

 “First of all, your security is terrible. All I had to do was tell them I am your boyfriend, and they let me in with ease. Second, watch that tone. That’s no way of talking to your boss now, is it?” he sassed.

Bucky stood up from the red couch and walked towards you. He looked just a powerful as the last time you saw him.

Dark grey suit, black satin tie, his hair was up in a bun, unshaved yet well maintained beard

He was hoping you would take a few steps back, but you didn’t. Much to his surprise, you stood right where you are and stared into his blue eyes with no emotion. Other than annoyance.

 “You’re not my boss. You’re invading my space, just- just leave,” you spoke calmly, not wanting to ruin your perfectly fine mood.

 He smirked as he walked towards you, his eyes very briefly flicking to your king-sized bed then back at you.

You gulped.

He wouldn’t touch you, would he?

Would you let him?

  He approached you slowly, and stopped when he stood right in front of you.

 “You really want me to? I could stay, and remind you how good it felt when you were under me, moaning and squirming until you begged me to stop. Something tells me you would prefer that,” he spoke, extending his hand out and tracing a line from your jaw to your collar bones.

His fingers were soon replaced by his lips as he pulled you into him, kissing your skin while mumbling what he intended to do to your body.

You wanted to push him away, and show him the way out and make sure he never comes back. But his explicit words had you captivated. And no matter how much you tried to resist, both you and him knew that you would give into his touch just as easily as the first time.

You were ashamed, but also very aroused simply by thinking about what it felt like the last time he touched you.

You were very well aware of the way he used you, and how much of a selfish asshole he was; yet you couldn’t fight it.

 “Your dress looks nice, you got all dressed up for him? You like him, huh? Just remember one thing babe, Thor can never make you feel the way I do, and if you let him touch you I swear to God I wi-,”

 “How the fuck do you know all that? Are you spying on me, you sick fuck? Jesus, get the fuck out! Now!” you yelled, pushing him away.

And when you did so, you could visibly see something flipped inside him like a switch. He looked more feral, more determined.

 Without another word said, he grabbed your arm and threw you to the bed which wasn’t too far away, so you fell perfectly in the middle of it.

Bucky climbed on top of you and adjusted your body so your head laid on your pillow as he straddled you.

You tried pushing him of you but he was stronger and your attempts were in vain.

 “Bucky!” you shouted again and he smirked, darkly.

 “Oh you’ll scream my name all right, just give me a second,” he mumbled as he loosened his tie, took it off and tied it around your wrists.

He then secured your bounded hands to the headboard.

You hadn’t realized that you had stopped struggling until you felt him tightening the knot around your wrists.

You just laid there, under him, breathing heavily while he undid the buttons of his shirt then proceeded to undress you.

He undid your pants and then unbuttoned your white blouse. Bucky then realized how much he preferred you in white. So pure, and innocent; just waiting for him to take you and mark you as his own.

He unclasped your nude, strapless bra and lifted it off your body, then dragged your matching thong down your legs.

In less than a minute, you were naked under him. He allowed his hungry eyes to roam all over your bare body as he grew more and more smitten by each passing second.

He straddled your thighs and bent down to kiss your lips. As soon as his lips touched yours; you couldn’t fight it anymore; your mouth refused to listen to your pleas and invited him in like a traitor.

His tongue slipped into your mouth and his hands each took your breasts; toying with them and earning soft moans out of you.

The sounds you made fueled his lust like no other woman could. After you, he had quite a lot of women in his bed, but none satiated his hunger quite like you did. Perhaps that’s why he quickly became obsessed with you; finding out where you are at all times, finding ways to enter your home and finally having you under him.

 “Bucky . . .,” you had meant for it to sound like a warning, yet it turned out like a moan as he tugged on your bottom lip.

 “I’m right here,” he whispered against your skin as he nibbled on it mercilessly, ignoring your pleas and groans; he was determined to make you surrender.

 He kissed his way down your body, peppering your skin with his feathery touches. He kissed around your breasts, down your stomach and around your belly button.

He placed soft kisses on each of your hip bones which caused you to tug on the restrains around your hand as your eyes rolled back for a moment.

 “Seems like you missed me, babygirl,” he whispered right above your wet core, his warm breath fanning against your folds; making you lightly thrust your hips upwards.

He chuckled.

 You opened your eyes and looked down your body. He had left a trail of wet kissed along your skin, and at the end of it, was him – kneeling at your feet, mouth dangerously close to your entrance and eyes looking up at you in hunger.

His large hands wrapped around your thighs and he separated your legs further apart, settling in between them; eyes clouded with mania.

 You watched him intently, his eyes never leaving yours – almost challenging as he placed his mouth against the most sensitive part of you. His tongue slipped inside your folds and he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, the tip of his tongue lingering at your bundle of nerves.

Involuntarily, a loud moan escaped your mouth and your back arched off the bed. Seeing your reaction, he hooked his hands around your thighs and secured you in place; pinned to the bed and against his skilled mouth.

Bucky closed his eyes as he relished the taste of you, his tongue teasing your entrance and his beard scratching the soft skin of your inner thighs as your legs wrapped around his head, cradling him as he lapped up your arousal.

You focused your vision back on him; his beard and lips drenched with your arousal, the lower half of his face hidden from you as he dove deeper into you with each stroke of his tongue.

 You felt the pressure building at your abdomen, and you knew you were so close to your release. Surprisingly, he was on his way to grant you your release, if your phone hadn’t rang.

 Your groaned; both at the sound of your phone and at the feeling of him lifting his mouth off of you. He panted as he rose off you for a brief second. He looked at your face, his appetite still not satiated, and the sight of his bread dripping with your arousal was sinful enough to make you blush instantly. A few strands of hair fell out of his messy bun and he looked, indeed, feral and cocky and arrogant – yet majestic.

The kind that made you want to jump on him and kick him out at the same time.

 The two of you looked towards your purse which was at the end of the bed, in annoyance. Your phone rang incessantly inside of it.

Groaning in frustration, Bucky reached over and grabbed your black purse. He opened it, and fished out your phone, and shamelessly checked who the caller was before you even had the chance to protest.

His jaw ticked as he studied the screen.

 “Why the fuck is he calling so late at night?” he showed you the screen and questioned.

 “None of your business, and untie me right now, that’s my boss, he probably needs something,” you spoke as the name ‘Thor Odinson’ flashed on the screen.

 Bucky smirked. The phone rang, while a devious plan formed in his mind.

 He slid his thumb across the screen and immediately tapped on the speaker icon. And Thor’s voice could immediately be heard.

 The situation was so messy it gave you a headache. You were tied to bed, with your ex-boss and the man you loathe so much straddling your naked body while your current boss called you to probably talk about something work related.

Fuck.

 “Hello? Y/N? Are you alright, what took you so long? Are you okay?” Thor’s concern could be heard and it was something Bucky didn’t like.

He placed the phone right next to your head and got back to kissing your body. His actions shocked you for a moment.

 “Yeah, I- uh, I’m good, I just- Oh fuck!” you swore as Bucky spread your legs even further and attached his mouth to your core in no time. His tongue poked your entrance and you felt like you were slowly losing your mind.

And you had to desperately hold on to your sanity because you still were on call with your boss.

 “Is everything alright, Y/N? It sounded like you were in pain, should I come over, are you sure you’re okay?” Thor asked again through the phone as Bucky licked lazily around your clit, flicking the little bud with the tip of his tongue.

You bit on your bottom lip, careful as to not let out a moan.

Damn you, Barnes!

 “N-no, I’m good. I’m okay,” you panted. “Is there anything you needed, Mr. O- oh holy shit!” you couldn’t hold back the moan as Bucky slipped one finger through your entrance.

Bucky smirked and kissed the glistening skin along your wet folds. You tried scooting away from him but his grip around your thighs was very firm.

 “Y/N, a-are you with someone at the moment?” Thor asked, and the hint of confusion and hurt was hard to ignore in his voice which came through the phone.

 At his question, Bucky slipped another finger into your entrance and curled his fingers inside of you; earning a quiet, breathy moan out of you.

You blushed at Thor’s question. 

 “What? No, no I’m just, I stubbed my toe and I- I fell. Sorry for swearing, that wasn’t at you, I’m- what is it you need, sir?” you asked.

The degree to which this situation was unethical and immoral was blowing your mind.

 Bucky growled when he heard how you addressed Thor. You never called him ‘sir’. Why?

He placed his tongue back into your folds, stroking your walls with his fingers at the same time. He applied just the slightest bit of suction on your sensitive bud and your bucked your hips into him; panting and turning your face as far away as you possible could from the phone.

You tugged on the restrains at your wrists again, and desperately failed at releasing your hands.

You closed your eyes as your body betrayed you and allowed the pleasure to wash over you.

 “I, uh, yeah I’ve been wanting to ask if you probably wanted to join me for dinner tomorrow. Just to celebrate the success of our recent publishing. No pressure, of course, I understand if you-,”

 Bucky pinched your skin as soon as Thor’s suggestion was heard by both of you. He lifted his mouth off you and hovered above your squirming body. Slowly, he removed his fingers from your entrance and forced them through your already parted lips.

He pumped his fingers into your mouth, coated with your own arousal, and licked along your jaw and finally kissed underneath your ear.

“Answer him,” he taunted in your ear, low enough for you to hear him, but Thor not to. He knew damn well you couldn’t speak with his fingers in your mouth.

You moved your head around, hoping he would remove his fingers from your mouth. And eventually he did, and left you panting.

 “I- uh, s-sure. Of course, I’ll be there, sir,” you replied, eyes closing as Bucky nibbled on the skin at your collar bone. His beard scratched your skin and you were ashamed to admit that despite all that happened, you still liked the feeling of it.

He growled against your skin again as you agreed.

 “Okay, alright. See you tomorrow then, Y/N. Good night,” Thor spoke and much to your relief, he ended the call.

Now you only had one man to deal with. The one teasing you.

 Bucky’s hand slipped in between your legs again, and he didn’t hesitate before slipping his fingers back in your entrance.

You moved your hips as to meet each thrust of his fingers, and chased your orgasm quickly because he had teased you enough.

You were on the edge, and with a couple more strokes of his fingers against your walls, you came, hard. Gushing at his hand while your walls clenched around his fingers; you moaned his name out loud again. And at the sound of it, his pants tightened even more.

He groaned as he placed his mouth back on yours. He untied your hands and threw the tie somewhere on the bedroom floor.

Instinctively, your hand flew to his hair, gripping and tugging at his roots as he kissed the life out of you. This would have been a different scenario if he was someone who really cared about you, but given he was here just to feed his ego; you couldn’t stand the gorgeous asshole.

 Once freed, you flipped the two of you. With you on top, his bulge pressed right against your throbbing entrance. It was your turn to straddle him now.

His hands lazily ran up and down your sides as you kept kissing him.

Bucky moaned when you moved your hips on top of his clothed hard on. He moaned into your mouth as you bucked your hips against his relentlessly.

He wasn’t used to having women be on top of him; usually he was the dominant one in bed. But with you, something was different.

He let you take control, and just when he thought you would undo his pants and cater for his throbbing member, you rubbed your wet core against the very firm tent in his pants and chased another orgasm. Your legs shook as you straddled him, coming again.

You moaned in his mouth as he tried to lift you off to have his way with you, but before he could, you grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them to the bed above his head.

You kept grinding against him, moaning against his cheek and the friction caused him to almost fall apart as well.

 “Fuck! Baby, I- just let me touch you, please,” he pleaded and you smirked against his bearded face. You tightened your grip around his wrists just in case he’d wanna free his hands, and moved your mouth to his ear.

Just like he did to you earlier.

 “You seriously think you can walk in here, barge into my room, have your way with me and I’m gonna give in to you completely?”

You spoke, kissing underneath his ear. He shuddered, and you figured that it probably was his sweet spot.

Bucky groaned, but remained silent.

“You’re tempting, Mr. Barnes, very tempting. But enough is enough, you don’t get to tell me what to do,” you spoke again, moving your hips against him just the slightest bit.

You could feel his cock twitching under you. And you loved it.

“You were really good to me today Bucky, but I’m gonna need you to get the fuck out before I call the cops and ruin your reputation forever, understand?” you whispered, allowing your lips to linger around his weak spot before lifting off of him.

 You didn’t care about the fact that your breasts were completely exposed, or that he wouldn’t even hide the fact that he was hard under you. You let go of his hands and the immediately held you at your waist, preventing you from moving away from him.

 “Y/N, I’m s-,”

 “Get out. Now,” you left no room for negotiation. You got off him completely and got out of bed. He sat up immediately and tried reaching out but you moved away from.

He couldn’t bear the sight of you, naked yet unreachable.

 Bucky knew he could’ve easily silenced you, and have his way with you whether you were completely willing or not. But he had fucked up already, and he needed to win you back – if possible.

 Making his way out of your apartment building and getting into the driver’s seat of his car, Bucky made up his mind.

You were his. And he wasn’t going to let Thor take you away from him.

On the other side, Thor smiled as he ended the call; hearing that you had agreed to have dinner with him the next day. Perhaps this would be the first of many dates. 

He had been enamored since day one. Ever since you walked into his life with your pretty face, your body which made him stutter, your calming voice and your easy-going manner; he was falling for you hard and fast. 

 Meanwhile you were in your room, sat on the floor, naked and deep in thoughts. Why did you let him touch you again?

And most importantly, why did you like it?

 Your gaze instinctively flew to your bedside table. Bucky’s recent book was still there, and on top of it was Thor’s recent book as well.

Bucky Barnes brought out the animal in you. While Thor made you feel safe.

A choice was to be made.

Would you make the wise one?

-

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[lildevyl]

Hearts and Heroes

Summary:  Fans and YouTubers from all around the world come together to help fight against a great evil that invades everyone’s dreams, known as the Terrorlings.  Join Brandy and her team as they team up to help fight the Leader of the Terrorlings and help save their friend and mentor, Markiplier.

This is based on the fan-made game in the Markiplier Community known as Hearts and Heroes.

TW:  Mild Gore, Violence, Fran Bow Game, Hospital, Asylum, Nightmares, Anxiety, Mention of depression

Guest Staring:  @weirdmixofweirdness as Nora Weird

                              Chapter 1: Dream Warrior

(Brandy’s House)

Brandy sat at her computer wiping tears from her face from laughing so hard, as the video of Markiplier Makes Pancakes wrapped up.  She was so glad the Markiplier Makes video ended up in her Recommended.  After a busy weekend like this, it was nice to sit back and just relax a bit.  That and Brandy really needed the laugh.  Her lacrosse practice didn’t go so well, but she was starting to feel a bit better now.  After getting ready for the night and turning off her computer.  Brandy headed off to bed ready for some goodnight sleep.  Not knowing the adventure that awaits her.

(The Manson):

When Brandy woke up, she found herself lying on a - couch?  That didn’t make any sense.  Why would she be on a couch?  Looking around, Brandy realized that she wasn’t’ in her house anymore.  She was in someone else’s home, but where?  Brandy got up and decided to explore, maybe she can find someone and get to the bottom of this.

The more Brandy explored the house the more it seemed familiar to her somehow.  She just couldn’t put her finger on it, but Brandy knew this place looked familiar to her.  It wasn’t until she came across a hallway full of portraits but the faces looked like a giant ex was painted on them.

A portrait of a Chef.  “I thought I told you to stay outta my Kitchen!” A portrait of a Butler.  “The Master will be so displeased!” A portrait of a Woman in a Fortune-teller Room.  “I won’t force this on you.  You have a choice.” A portrait of a Mayor.  “Life is our’s to choose.” A portrait of a Colonel.  “Life needs a bit of madness.” And a portrait of an Actor.  “Life is to live it to the fullest.”

*Same snake, different skin.*

Brandy entered the Kitchen and didn’t find anyone, but wait?  Is that?  Brandy goes over to the Island where a tiny box is sitting and smiling at her.  “Huh?  No way!  Tiny Box Tim!”

“Hiya!”  Tiny Box Time greeted.

Then there was a flash of light and someone else was standing in front of Brandy but was behind Tiny Box Tim.  “Well, hey there, Tiny Box Tim.  How’s my little biscuit doing?  Thanks for notifying me that she’s here!”

“Huh?  Whoa!  You’re Markiplier!”

“Hi.  Listen, I know you have a lot of questions and I’ll try to explain everything as best as I can.  But right now, we need to get someplace safe.”

“Someplace safe?  I don’t understand.  Aren’t I just dreaming?”

“You are.  I am too.  It’s a bit complicated and I promise that I’ll explain everything, as best as I can.”  Mark held out his hand, palm up, gesturing for Brandy to take the first step.

“Um, okay.”

(Markiplier Hub)

Brandy stepped forward next to Mark and the next thing that Brandy knew.  She, Mark and Tiny Box Tim was all being teleported somewhere.  “Whoa.  Okay, feeling a little dizzy.  Okay, now can I know where I am?”

“Yeah, it takes a little getting used too.  And to answer your question, this is basically, home base for people like us.  You, me, and many others were chosen to fight against the Terrorlings.”  Mark started to explain.

“The what?”  Brandy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hear me out on this, alright?  I’ll try to explain as best as I can.  Terrorlings are basically dream-like demons that feed off negative emotions.  Anger, jealousy, grief, sadness, anxiety, uncertainty, and fear.  They can only affect people’s dreams as of right now, but the damage they can cause is very real.  And if they grow strong enough, I'm afraid their darkness will begin to seep into the awaking world.”

“That doesn’t sound good!”  Brandy said getting a little on edge.  She can only imagine what that might be like.

“Yeah, it’s definitely not good.  But that’s why we’re here to help.  This is the Hub or as some people like to call it the Markihub.”

Brandy gave one of her, “Yeah, right” looks at that.  “So, what do we do here?”

“Well, people here train for battling the Terrorlings.  They can also gather supplies and meet up with their teammates before missions.  Then, when the third shift bell rings, a portal will open to take you to the person that needs to be saved.  Speaking of, there’s the first bell!  You’ve still got a lot to do, but I’ll help you get up to speed.  Follow me to the training room.”

Brandy followed Mark to the Training Room, and her mouth fell open.  The Training Room looked more like a dojo!  Training Dummies were set up, different training weapons, and protections when using real weapons during training.  And so many other people were also training as well.  Brandy partnered up with Mark and he showed Brandy the ropes that will be her in her first mission.  After some time, Mark said that Brandy wasn’t too bad for the first in training and showed her the Army.  Mark stayed outside, claiming that the guy in there made him a bit uneasy.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, reader and all other configurations of being, my name is Wilford Warfstache and this is my weapon shop!  I’m in charge of very sharp objects.  Ready to choose your class?  Wilford Warfstache takes no crap from anybody!”  Wilford told Brandy.

“My class?”  Brandy asked, confused.

Wilford then went on to explain the different classes that people here in the dream world can take.  The different weapons they will have and the different training opportunities as well.  But Brandy had to choose carefully.  It was first to come first serve and all sales final after that!  Brandy decided on Warrior since that’s what she would normally choose if this was an RPG Game.

After exploring the Markihub a bit more, trying to figure out where everything is, and the layout of the place.  Brandy decided to find Mark.  She’s still very confused about a lot of things, and Mark did promise that he would explain everything.  Here’s hoping.

“You ready?”  Mark asked.

“I think so,” Brandy said.

“Great.  Now I’ll try to explain things more, especially since I promised to explain everything as best as I can.  Every person has their own Terrorlings.  In the dreams, they can manifest themselves into entities that are familiar to the victim. They invade the person’s head, causing the victim’s dreams to become nightmares, attacking them, and slowly eating away at their sanity.  Our job is to go into their dreams and save them before the Terrorlings do too much damage.” Mark explains.

Bong.

“There isn’t much time left before the portal opens.  And there’s a couple of things you need to do before heading out.  Sometimes, I like to do a quick send-off before the start of a shift.  It can get tough out there, so a few words of encouragement are always good.  What you want to do and I’ll help show you, is to equip before you head on out.  That way you’re fully prepared and have a better chance at fighting the Terrorlings.”

Brandy quickly equipped her armor and Mark showed her how to secure her sword when not in use.  “Okay, I think I’m ready to go, but I still don’t know exactly what I’m going to be doing out there.  I mean, I’ve hit people with a lacrosse stick before, but I never really been in a fight before.”  Brandy confessed.  She was really nervous about botching her first mission and completely messing it up.

“Don’t worry, new recruits face easier enemies on their first missions.  Even though everyone’s dreams are different, we try to make sure no one is going in facing enemies that they can’t handle.  Tonight you’re going to help a college student who’s been going through a tough time.  Their adopted father has been put in jail and their classmates have been really laying it on them.  They're starting to feel like a burden and their anxiety has been going through the roof, even having a few depression episodes.  Here, things like anxiety can take form as Terrorlings.  They start out small, but they can pile up over time and can cause some major harm.  Along, with the depression episodes.  The Terrorlings can probably do a lot of damage if we don’t try to help them out.”

“So, I go into someone’s dream and fight these  .   .   .  Terrorlings?”  Brandy asked.  Now, she was getting really nervous about this.

“Yep, and once they’ve been rescued, the exit portal will appear to take you back to the hub.”

“And  .   .   .   What if I  .   .   .   fail?”  That was one of Brandy’s biggest fears. Failing.  Not just failing a test or something, but actually failing someone.  Failing at helping someone.  Failing at something in life.  Brandy prides herself at being a really good student and yes, she has a lot of sass and tries her best to be a good friend.  But failing, at being a good friend, a good daughter.  It always made Brandy nervous that she might not be good enough.

“You’ll do great.  I know you can do it.  You were chosen for a reason.”

“If you say so,” Brady says, feeling a little confident now.  “Then, is it about time to start?”

“Yeah!  Let’s get going!”

As the third bell was about to toll, everyone gathered at the entrance where the portal will appear.  And as usual, everyone started talking among themselves, while Mark tried to get everyone’s attention.  A lot of people just did this knowing that, it would annoy Mark, it was kinda a thing that everyone did every now and then.

“Okay, now that I have your attention!”  Mark starts off awkwardly.  “We all know why we’re here.  There are dark things out there threatening the well-being of good people.  But we’re here to stop them.  Each and every one of us has something in your heart that can shine through that darkness and let you reach out to others.  Some of you were saved, others were chosen.  Chosen by what? 

Well to be honest  .   .   .  I have no freaking idea.  I’ve been doing this for a few years now and I still haven’t been able to figure it out.  But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop fighting.  Every night the darkness attacks, but our numbers continue to grow with every person saved.  Helping people is what I’m all about.  So, I’m taking this chance to do just that.  I want you all to know that even though things will get rough out there, I believe in you and I know you can do it!  And if it gets too much for you, just know that we’re all here for you and you can always ask for help.”

Bong.

“One more thing for the new people.  You, see that heart everyone has on their sleeves?  It’s the mark of a hero.  Not everyone you save will have one, but if they do, it means they’ll be joining our ranks in the fight against the Terrorlings. Alright, everyone!  Good Luck out there!”

The portal opened and everyone went through.  Talking to themselves or giving each other a last-minute pep talk.  Mark came to where Brandy was standing. “Let’s go!”

“Hang on second,” Brandy said.  “You said that each person had to be saved from the Terrorlings, right?”  Mark gave her a nod.  “Then what about me?  I wasn’t being attacked when you came and got me.  I was literally in a   .   .   . House?  Mansion?”

“Well like I said, sometimes people get chosen.  That’s what happened to me too.  I don’t know how this works, but it’s just one of those things where you get the chance to do some good and you’ve just gotta take it.”

“I guess that makes sense.  It’s kinda like donating to a charity or tutoring someone right?”

“Well, sorta.  If that helps you understand a bit better.”

“Hey, man.  I got enough sass on my own.  I don’t need any more from you.” Brandy said, crossing her arms.  “Anyway, I guess we should get going.  Here goes nothing!”

“You’ve got this!”

(Oswald Asylum)

“Whoa!  So, we’re in someone else’s dream right?”  Brandy asked looking around.  Oh, damn.  Where the hell are they?  Is this some kind of hospital?  Great, she hated hospitals!

“Yep!  We should hurry and try to find them before the Terrorlings do.”

“Are you going to stick with me through my whole shift?”

“Ah, sick of me already?  I’ll stay with you for as long as I can, but I have to eventually get back to my own objectives.”  Mark then looked around and suddenly his expression changed upon recognizing their surroundings.  “Oh, great I know where we are.”

“Wait, you do?  Where are we then?”

“This will certainly be an interesting first mission for ya.”  Both Mark and Brandy suddenly heard someone scream and came, barreling down the hall.  With what looked to be zombie-like skeletons chasing them.  “Looks like they need our help.  Let’s go!”

The person ran right by them and locked themselves in a room.  The Terrorlings start to taunt and scratch at the door.  Laughing and calling out to the person that was trapped in this nightmare.

“You’re Dad’s a criminal!” “He could have killed so many people just using his talent!” “He’s Dark’s puppet!  And you’ll be next!  You’ll be serving him, and no one will take you seriously.” “Not even the writer of this fanfic!”

=========

“Huh?!  How did -  Wait, are these guys breaking the fourth wall here?”  The writer of this fanfic says to absolutely no one.  “Okay, that must have been a typo!  Come on, I’m not even writing Wilford, the Host, the Author, or Darkiplier in this story yet and you guys are breaking character and the fourth wall already?!”

The writer of this story goes back to what she was writing and hopes to whatever Creator Power that is out there, that there won’t be any more breaking character or the fourth wall.

I guess she doesn’t know us, characters from the Markiplier Community, too well, do she?

“I’m going to pretend that I don’t see that and will continue to write this story the way I intended on writing it”

Okay. 👼

“Thank You!  Now, where was I?  Oh yes.  The person runs into a room locking the door behind them.”

========

(Oswald Asylum)

The person ran right by them and quickly locked themselves in a room.  The Terrorlings start to taunt and scratch at the door.  Laughing and calling out to the person that was trapped in this nightmare.

“Hey, jerks!  Over here!”

The Terrorlings turned around and their smiles grew to an ear to ear grin.  They came over to where Brandy and Mark were standing and were ready to fight. Brandy quickly grabs her sword and swings it around.  It was a bit heavy but it fit her perfectly as far as her body type.  Mark brought his staff and was ready to kick some ass.  The Terrorlings went after Brandy and Mark and the fight was on!  It was three against two.  Two of the Terrorlings, Brandy guests were the stronger ones, went after Mark and the Terrorling that Brandy got either wasn’t as skilled, as strong as the others or this Terrorling thought that Brandy would be slim pickings.

Brandy would be the first to admit to that she was by far any kind of fighter, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going down without a fight.  As the fight went on, it was clear that Brandy was a newbie, but holding her own.  The Terrorling did manage to get some good shots on Brandy but Brandy was able to block a lot of the Terrorling’s attacks and was able to get some shots in as well.  Brandy briefly saw Mark successfully battling two Terrorlings at once, and hoped that she would be able to get to that level.

Right now, that got someone they need to save.  Brandy blocked the Terrorling’s attacks and was able to get one final blow.  What shocked Brandy the most was, one point the Terrorling was standing right there, then the next moment, Brandy was staring at a pile of ash.  Brandy quickly went to check on Mark only to see that he as well had two piles of ash.

“The Terrorlings become ashes when defeated.  Then they regenerate and go after other people here in the dream world,” Mar explained upon seeing Brandy’s shocked and confused look.

“I guess that makes sense.  We should get to the person we’re trying to save.”  Brandy headed to the room where they saw the person ran into.

Mark tried the door.  “Locked.  Hello?  Anyone in there?  You can come out now! We’re here to help you.”  Mark tried calling out to them and even lightly, knocked on the door.  No one answered.

“I think I can help with this,” Brandy said.  She then pulls out a few bobby pins from her hair and quickly put them together.  Then she goes over to the locked door and tries to pick the lock.  It takes Brandy a few tries and luckily it’s an old fashion lock.  “Walla!  The door is now open!”  Brandy opened the door, letting Mark go first, with a small bow.  Mark just smiled and shook his head fondly.

When Mark and Brandy entered the room, both of them found the room to be completely empty besides the bare essentials.  A bed, a window with the currents on the floor, and a dresser, that was it.  The person who ran in here was gone.  They must have ran, off somewhere, but where is the question?

Beep, beep, beep.

“Oh, sorry.  I have to go now.  But as I was about to say earlier I know which this is,” Mark explained after looking at his watch.  “This is Fran Bow.  I think once you find the person we’re looking for, and head to the end of the maze you should be good.  Just be careful, and whatever you do, don’t take the red pills!”

“Will do Mark!”  Brandy assured.

After Mark disappeared through the portal, Brandy decided to look around.  What better way to figure out who she needs to find then look around the room she’s in.  Plus, Brandy didn’t remember watching the playthrough of Fran Bow so this is completely new to her.  Looking around the room (didn’t take that long) Brandy found a file of the person she was looking for.

Patient’s Name:  Nora Weird

Parent/Parental Guardian:  Adopted Father Author Fischbach

Case:  Patient Nora Weird is the adopted daughter of the Author, one of the oldest Egos of Mark Fischbach (YouTuber Markiplier) and one of the deadliest ones.  After her adopted father had been arrested and taken in by Jackieboy Man, Nora has been severally bullied.  And started to show signs of possibly having the same powers as her adopted father. Patient believes that she is not “real” and is trying to find a “Creator” to use their powers to become “real.”   If not treated and suppress these powers, then it is theorized that she too, will be as powerful and insane as her adopted father. Powers:  Being able to write things down in a story and then narrates the story.  The story and/or characters become real.

‘Oh, wow!’  That was the first thing that Brandy thought when she read that.  Wait, did they just say that one of Mark’s Ego’s is her “Adopted Father?”  Okay, this nightmare is more confusing than anything else.  How can one of Mark’s older Egos be Nora’s adopted father?  The Author isn’t real.  Brandy was here in Nora’s nightmare to help her, so Nora’s a real person like her.  Like Mark.  Alright, so this file must be made up and is mixing things up, to try and drive Nora over.

‘Hang in there Nora.  Help is on the way.’  Brandy thought to herself as she headed out of the room.  Time to explore the hospital, maybe someone will be able to help her find Nora.

======

Tagging:  @weirdmixofweirdness, @isa-ghost, @septic-dr-schneep, @nightfuryobsessed, @fischyplier, @dezzydynamite, @kangaroo-roux, @shadowsinyoursoul, @marshmallowmischief, @juju-on-that-yeet, @m4delin, @stained-puppet, @10th-no-name-person

[mashounen2003]

Here is the text of the video, translated into English. Seriously, check out this video, this guy is awesome.

"Conspiracy Theories" by Guille Aquino.

Posted on June 27, 2019.

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

Warning: if you're influenceable, you need to watch this.

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

Alright, before we start, I want us to welcome and applaud our new friends from the CIA, the FBI, NASA, the former SIDE -today, the AFI-, the KGB, Interpol, and the lazy virgins at the troll centre on Miserere Park, who are surely already watching this video because today we're gonna talk about...

Conspiracy Theories.

We all know some: the humans didn't go to the Moon, the 9/11 was a self-attack by the USA's government, Bin Laden never existed, Walt Disney is frozen, Elvis Presley is alive, the Simpsons predict the future, Marcelo Tinelli went to a famous hospital with a famous object inserted in a famous place on his body, and Dengue and Zika fever were created by Bill Gates who genetically modified mosquitoes to depopulate the Earth because it most likely was easier than making work that "Internet Explorer" bulls*** he sold us. But let's get to the news: in early 2019, YouTube modified its recommendation algorithm to avoid promoting conspiracy theories and false information. And let's stop here because I want us to become aware of the magnitude this matter took on and how this little joke of the conspiracy theories videos completely went to Hell.

Think of it this way: YouTube, the second most trafficked website in the world after Google, with over 30 million visitors per day and over 1.3 billion users -almost a third of all people connected to the Internet in the world-, where 300 hours of videos are uploaded per minute and almost 500 trillion videos are viewed per day, had to change its own recommendation system because all of us were watching too many videos denouncing that Lali Espósito is an Illuminati:

Video excerpt: [with obvious robotic voice] "Also, at the second Number Ten, she covers one of her eyes again, obviously symbolizing the All-Seeing Eye."

And I'm very sorry to tell you that, in today's world, if YouTube has a problem, we all have a problem.

Conspiracy theories are the Internet's new porn. In fact, if you filter the words "conspiracy" and "theories" by the number of views, the most viewed video has 36 million views. THIRTY-SIX! MILLION! VIEWS! That's like putting together the total populations of Belgium, Greece, Cuba and Jamaica, and then lighting a giant reefer to everyone and making them watch this video of people saying the Earth is flat:

Another video excerpt: [Channel 13 interview with Flat-Earthers, recorded in a park in Buenos Aires] "I pour water into this dish... Look, I pour water, and it stays, you see? But we pour water into the globe... and it goes down, people."

Okay, now we're gonna go over some of the most popular conspiracy theories of recent times, and we're gonna try to deconstruct the psychological profile of the average consumer of the conspiranoid world.

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

We'll start with everyone's favourite...

The Flat-Earthers.

Excerpt of the second video: "This first meeting began to be announced in the groups I followed on YouTube. (And the tattoo you have there, what is it?) This is the flat Earth, the Sun and the Moon."

The Flat-Earthers basically hold the theory that the Earth is not actually spherical, and they claim Galileo Galilei was an old smoke-seller blabbermouth who often played into the Far-Right's hands, cut his hair in an old-fashioned barbershop and used the 1610 telescope mainly to bed with chicks. And I have nothing personal against the Flat-Earthers but I find it difficult to take them seriously, mostly because much of their scientific hypothesis can be explained with this blooper.

Excerpt of another, different video: "There's an inflatable pool filled with water and with two people in it, a third person suddenly jumps into the water, and the pool deforms and overflows on the other side, as one of the two previously present people also falls over the edge."

(Images from the film "Armageddon".)

The truth is that the "flat Earth" theory has one fundamental premise, and it's the same one that supports 100% of conspiracy theories:

There's a power above us that manages everything.

Governments, lobbies and other de facto powers are capable of lying on a massive scale, just as intelligence services, the New World Order and FlyBondi hostesses do.

Excerpt of the second video: "(And you can't see the curvature of the Earth from the plane.) Uh... I travelled by plane to Bariloche, and no, I didn't see it. There's some aircraft glass with a small magnification or something that changes your perspective, due to the thickness of the window, and because aircraft glass also has something."

Alright, stop, let's not turn this into "Point at the crazy assholes and laugh" either, right? Well, yes, a little- But we go beyond that! We're better than that!

Why do so many people choose to believe we're puppets of an evil system? One might say that, in the absence of a sense of real control over our own lives and in the face of the desolation of living in a seemingly random, chaotic world, believing there's an external force exerting control is, to some extent, comforting. Yes, phone the Vatican.

And according to a certain old white upper-middle-class snob who teaches at Harvard University, conspiracy theorists share several or at least one of the following features: they're paranoid, radical, extremist in their opinions; they aspire to a feeling of superiority, and basically, they feel special for possessing information that exceeds the common citizen. Yeah, it's like the row for an indie film festival.

Umberto Eco even said:

"The control syndrome invades us. When someone claims to have a secret, their strength is not in hiding something but in making people think there's even a secret in the first place."

And I didn't understand a f*** because I've never read a book in my life, but it sounds ultra-mega-hyper cool. I dare you to deny it!

So who would be the most likely to believe in these kinds of theories? People who had bad experiences in life, people in search of an answer that would rescue them from a deep existential crisis, and the most important: people in search of a place of belonging.

Excerpt of the second video: "Well, no, this opened a door for me to start thinking more, to question things, about a supposed alien invasion."

Wait, stop right there. Excuse me, but if I'm an alien and I have the power to cross the universe in a spaceship, with my own army and the ability to colonize a celestial body, I don't even waste my time invading a paper-thin planet. Give me a round planet or give me death!

And that's when the contradiction comes into play. Because if you believe in one conspiracy theory, you immediately start to believe in all of them. It's like the weed. Even the refutation of a plot fits within the plot itself: for example, if you believe Lady Diana was killed by the British Crown, you're also prone to believe Lady Diana is actually still alive.

(Woah, Mind Blown... She was totally killed anyway, sorry.)

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

Good, let's move on to the next one:

The Anti-Vaccination movement.

Okay, here we come to a key point, since clearly there are the "harmless" conspiracy theories and the... rather dangerous ones. We've all heard someone say vaccines may cause autism in kids. Now, I'm clearly a specialist in absolutely nothing, and I ain't gonna explain why you guys have to vaccinate your children, so I better recommend to you the websites of any Ministry of Health or Wikipedia, so that you later visit them and find out how very important it is to inject legal drugs to your sweet little angels. And it's not to detract from any position or to err on the side of bigotry, but if you're an anti-vax and your baby coughs next to me, I swear I'll kick their head off.

(Tack! That bag of germs...)

And after all, that's why we invented Democracy!

(Ha, of course not, but...)

In fact, I dunno who gives a f*** about this but maybe someone will find it useful: I follow a pretty simple method when it comes to ideologically locating myself regarding any issue. And this is:

Always do the opposite of whatever Gisela Barreto says.

Gisela Barreto: [speaks with a flag in the background] "Vaccines show up, and they show them to us as something that heals us. Actually, they're part of our death."

(Seriously, she came this close to being in the Avengers.)

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Okay, and now let's move on to one that touches us all closely (at least here, in my country):

Hitler in Argentina.

It's the conspiracy theory ensuring that, after losing World War II, the Nazi leader, the most disgusting dictator and genocide in Human History, came to live incognito in our country. And I ask myself: what the heck did we need to shelter Hitler for? The birth of Alejandro Biondini, who's pretty much our local version of Nazism, was imminent:

Interview with Biondini in 1991 by Mariano Grondona in his program "Key Time":

Grondona: "Would you condemn Adolf Hitler?"

Biondini: "No, we vindicate Adolf Hitler."

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Okay, question: is it possible to keep a secret on such a large scale for so many years? Well, the Math says no. Seriously! I've read that a physicist at the Oxford University (Where else?) took the "humans didn't go to the Moon" theory, and then this guy created a mathematical calculation based on the number of conspirators involved, the time elapsed since the conspiracy, and the inherent possibility that a plot would fail.

For example, in the case of Apollo 11, 411 thousand NASA employees were involved, and according to the variables this physicist analyzed, the lie should have been known in less than four years; half a century passed, and no employee denied the mission. What does this tell us? Well... they were threatened and killed off, of course! It's obvious! [imitating Mirtha Legrand] Stanley Kubrick was not in the coffin! Nobody saw him. Nobody saw him!

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Gimme more!

Famous people who are actually dead.

For example, Paul McCartney. On the cover of the album "Abbey Road", he's barefoot; a clear subliminal message that the real one died and was replaced with a stand-in. (Why?!) It sounds silly, but the rumour got so big that McCartney himself had to go out and publicly deny it... Although come to think of it, he also came out to congratulate the butchers who named their butcher shop "Paul Mac Carne" ["Paul McMeat"], so maybe he's truly a stand-in and, to top it off, looks like a raisin.

Excerpt of another video: "Well, thinking of different names, someone said "Paul Mac Carne". And well, he, being a vegetarian, says the idea was very good, started laughing and sent us a greeting."

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I love this one:

The Reptilians.

It's basically the theory that there's a race of amphibian aliens [Wait for a second: aren't they called "reptilians"?] living among us for centuries and hiding their reptilian features behind human faces.

(Oh, you were telling me they're not actually aliens because they were born here?)

Excerpt of the 1996 movie "Mars Attacks!".

And who discovered this? David Icke! Or "Ique". An unsuccessful former soccer player and sportscaster. (How can you be unsuccessful as a soccer sportscaster?! All you need is a suit!) It's like believing in a religion where your Pope is Diego Latorre.

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Now, I know what you're thinking: after all, how dangerous can all this get? I mean, no conspiracy theory has someone popular to represent it, no spokesperson of ridiculous and implausible plots has reached a truly important position in today's world.

Bah... There's actually only one.

The President of the United States of America.

That's right! Donald Trump, once the leader of the most powerful country in the world, had come to power mostly by throwing out fake news and conspiracy theories. And here are some:

Barack Obama is an immigrant.

Trump: "And I just say: why doesn't he show his birth certificate?"

Global warming is a myth.

Trump: "Obama is saying all of this has to do with global warming and I say all that is a hoax..."

Gisela Barreto was right.

Trump: "At two and a half years old, the baby, the beautiful baby, went to get the vaccine. Now he's autistic."

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Okay, then... Conspiracy theories. For what? Well, in the case of Trump: influence on public opinion and accumulation of power. In the case of people who upload videos to YouTube... What do you think? A profitable, monetizable business! In fact, there's the conspiracy theory that we're actually making this video about conspiracy theories in order to have lots of views and earn buttloads of cash. (We'd never do that!)

And finally, a much deeper, inherent aspect of the human condition:

The need to believe in something.

The world is divided into two types of people: some think everything happens for a reason, everything is a sign, and perhaps there's also a magical entity organizing things for us; the other half of the people think we live in a desolate world without meaning or messages, there are only atoms randomly colliding with each other, and the Universe gives no f***s about us. Which of these two groups seems happier to you? Which one do you belong to? Which one would you like to belong to? I choose to join the conspiranoids! And listen to this, I know exactly what's going on:

The New World Order organized the Lollapalooza at the request of the Illuminati, who wanted to marketingly manage Lali Espósito, who actually wears a mask and underneath is "La Mona" Giménez, who's not actually a monkey but a reptile and has drank all the wine to get immunized against the vaccines at the request of Gisela Barreto, who was born in Corrientes just like Barack Obama, who claimed to have killed Bin Laden, who's actually alive and was driving the car that crashed that night and carried Chano Charpentier, who taught driving to Lady Diana, who was actually Mexican and was assassinated by Donald Trump, who was matched on Tinder with Hitler, who lives in a nursing home in Recoleta and has glaucoma, so he's hitting the reefers with Biondini, who is actually a hippie and a fan of León Gieco, invented global warming and, when being in a bad mood, takes a bus and goes to dinner at "Paul Mac Carne", where they invented the extra-thin Provoleta cheese, which coincidentally has the same shape as the Earth, which is actually flat!

*sigh* Knowledge is power. Quiero creer.

Soundtrack: State Anthem of the Soviet Union.

[takerfoxx]

Coming to Terms with Homura Akemi, My (Formerly) Least Favorite PMMM Character

Or, How I Learned to Stop Whinging and Love the Emo Meguca!

I have a…complicated history with my favorite anime’s main character (and yes, Homura is the main character. Madoka might be the title character and the show’s POV protagonist, but like most things in this series, that was a clever ruse, and it’s really more about Homura’s journey than Madoka’s). The first time I watched the show, I walked away feeling kind of ambivalent toward her, even mildly hostile. And that’s weird, right? I mean, just look at her! Look how her character arc plays out! She was practically grown in a lab to be my favorite! And you know what? In pretty much any other series she would have been my favorite, no doubt. She would have been a first pick Fav of the Day, the starring character in whatever fanfic I wrote about it, etc. But since the show she premiered in is anything but traditional, the way I eventually came to love each character turned out to be a little…unorthodox.

Now, I’ve gone over most of this before, so sing along if you know the words. My first time watching Puella Magi Madoka Magica went a little something like this:

Episode 1: Blue funny, Pink cute, Yellow badass, Purple mysterious.

Episode 2: Blue favorite, Pink alright, Yellow probably evil, Purple mysterious.

Episode 3: Yellow’s not evil after all, and now is the dead. My bad.

Episode 4: Pink getting all fucked up, SOMEONE SAVE BLUE!

Episode 5: Hate Red for attacking Blue. Kick her ass, Purple!

Episode 6: Still hate Red.

Episode 7: FUCK YOU, BUNNYCAT! Red’s not so bad after all. But someone save Blue!

Episode 8: Aw, hell no, Purple! You don’t threaten Blue like that! You go, Red! You’re pretty cool after…oh shit. BLUE, NO!

Episode 9: GO RED! GO PINK! SAVE BLUE! YOU CAN DO IT, I BELIEVE IN…no.

Episode 10-12: Stuff is still happening with the plot, but I no longer care. My heart has been shattered, all light has gone from the world. My babies are gone. If only they had more time together, if only there was someplace they could reunite, really get to know one another, and go on adventures together…huh.

So yeah, that’s the story of how I fully got on board the KyoSaya train. Obviously, writing Resonance Days only solidified that, and coming across A Happy Dream by angel0wonder, AKA the potato lady AKA @smxmuffinpeddling (wazzup?!?!), pretty much cemented it as my top reigning OTP.

Now, obviously I got invested in the whole story as time went by. Subsequent rewatchings of the show, mainly through convincing people to watch it blind so I can laugh at them when they get to certain scenes (don’t hate, y’all did it too!) and taking part in online discussions really got me into the show as a whole instead of just being confined in my little KyoSaya bubble. But coming to love the other characters for their own merits took some time.

Mami was next. I’ll be honest, I just didn’t care all that much for her during my first watching, mainly due to believing that she would turn out to be evil for the first couple of episodes (I blame Disney and their recent trend of turning almost every kindly mentor/confidante figure into the bad guy lately), and me being more surprised that I was wrong when she died instead of being shocked that she was killed. Again, had nothing against her, that was just my reaction the first time around. However, she was included in Resonance Days because it felt like the logical thing to do, and she turned out to be so much fun to write for that I really came to love and care for her character in general, and her relationship with Charlotte ended up becoming one of my favorite parts of that story.

Madoka honestly took more time. I think the main reason I wasn’t all that invested in her is that she was pretty passive in the series proper while my attention was more on the more proactive side characters. And again, this wasn’t a bad thing! In fact, it was a clever bit of deliberate storytelling, as it’s revealed that she originally was a proactive main-character type, only to unintentionally get relegated to her observer role by the butterfly effect caused by Homura’s time loops. But anyway, the thing that made me turn the corner on Madoka actually also ended up being fanfiction, but not one of my own. Specifically, I came across a popular, yet also somewhat controversial, fic called Persephone’s Waltz (and wazzup, @erinptah!), in which Homura decides to just stop beating around the bush and lock Madoka up in a basement until Walpurgisnacht had passed. And as weird as it sounds, making Madoka a prisoner actually gave her more agency, as the fic really went into detail about the psychological effects of being a kidnapping victim, from the strange rituals to the escape attempts to coping strategies to Stockholm Syndrome to bouts of depression and so on and so forth, all the while never deviating from her core character. It really got me rooting for Madoka and, by extension, invested in her character in canon as well.

That just left Homura.

By then, I had gotten over being a little sore at her for trying to kill Sayaka that one time, and I was interested in where her actions would take the plot. I just wasn’t interested in her, per se, as I hadn’t had an icebreaker moment like I had with the other characters.

And then The Rebellion Story happened.

The Rebellion Story: PMMM’s End of Evangelion

Puella Magi Madoka Magica is often compared its nearly two decade-old predecessor, Neon Genesis Evangelion, and not without reason. Like Evangelion, it took a genre mainly known to be fun and kid-friendly (giant mechs for Evangelion and magical girls for PMMM) and turned it on its head, resulting in a brutal and twisted deconstruction that would end up altering the direction that genre would take for years to come. The key difference is that Evangelion’s brilliance was in many ways an accident, with the bizarre places it went being largely informed both by its troubled production and its showrunner’s personal demons staying bottled up through the early part of the show but letting them loose later on, whereas PMMM was meticulously constructed from top to bottom to become the hand-grenade to the genre that it would become. But in the end, the effects were the same. They even both had a follow-up movie that was not originally supposed to happen that ended up being highly divisive among fans due to the shots they took at the fandom that had sprung up around the original series, even if The Rebellion Story wasn’t nearly as spiteful as End of Evangelion was.

Now, I’ve already gone into at length about how PMMM brutally dissects and deconstructs the Magical Girl genre, and it did it so thoroughly that the genre itself was totally wrenched in a new direction, much like Evangelion did to the Giant Mecha genre. But after you’ve completely taken apart the genre in your first season, where exactly do you go? How do you continue when your work is seemingly done?

The answer: deconstruct yourself.

Much as Puella Magi Madoka Magica went after the Magical Girl genre, The Rebellion Story went after the fandom that had sprung up in the original show’s wake. The first third of the movie gives the fans what they claimed they wanted: a traditional Magical Girl reimagining of PMMM where everyone is alive and working together, everyone is mentally and emotionally healthy, the two fan-favorite ships are just a kiss away from being canon, Kyubey is now a cute and silent mascot that helps out instead constantly manipulating everyone around him, and even the most popular witch is back as a benevolent secondary mascot in a happy friendship with the character she had killed. We see Madoka and the Moemura version of Homura being adorable together, we see Kyoko and Sayaka goofing off, we see Mami cuddling with Charlotte with nary a head-chomp in sight, we see everyone being just being friends and protecting the city from weird but essentially non-threatening monsters. It is basically the summation of a hundred fanfics that had been posted between the end of the show and the release of the movie.

But this is still PMMM, and something is not quite right.

We all know what happens next. Homura starts subconsciously noticing that something is off, she gradually becomes Terminator Homura as she investigates the situation and regains her memories, and the perfect happy world is exposed for the farce that it is. Things collapse, and the truth is revealed: Homura had become a witch that had been trapped inside her own soul gem, those close to her had been lured in to complete the illusion, and of course it is all Kyubey’s fault. Because this is PMMM, and Homura doesn’t get to be happy.

But the movie doesn’t stop with that reveal. Once we learn the truth, it changes targets. It stops deconstructing the fans, and instead goes after something else.

It starts to deconstruct Homura Akemi, its own main character.

Despite her promise to continue fighting on in Madoka’s name to protect the slightly more kind world her beloved had created, Homura had found herself unable to cope without Madoka. Her mission had failed, and without that stabilizing force, despair had slowly crept in, corrupting her from within, to the point where (I believe at least) she had been fighting not to honor Madoka, but in hopes that she would fall in battle and be carried off by her goddess. She had been fighting not in hopes of building a better world, but as a way to seek release from her pain. She had been miserable in Madoka’s new world, even moreso than she had been during her time loops.

And because she had been foolish enough to tell the truth to Kyubey, the little rat had taken the opportunity to use her to set a trap. Madoka had been pulled out of Heaven right into the Incubators’ clutches, and it was all her fault.

Is it any wonder that she had been unwilling to accept Madoka’s salvation during the climatic battle? Is it any wonder that her own labyrinth had featured her own familiars dragging her away to her own execution? Homura hated herself. She hated what she had become, she hated what she had allowed to happen, she hated that she had failed so utterly and completely.

In fact, I’d say that this movie shows something about Homura that I don’t think a lot of people will appreciate me pointing out, and that is as much as Homura was single-mindedly devoted to Madoka, she never really came to know her. I mean, how could she? She only knew Madoka over the course of a few of a few infatuated weeks the first time around, which she then repeated over and over and over again, becoming increasingly traumatized over time. I don’t doubt that her devotion to Madoka is real, but The Rebellion Story does seem to suggest that after a while she was fixated on Madoka as an ideal rather than Madoka as an actual person, something to be protected and possessed rather than as a living, breathing person with her own autonomy.

Now, am I saying that Homura is a bad person and that anyone who felt inspired by her resilience and devotion is wrong? Of course not. Am I saying that anyone that ships MadoHomu is bad, promoting toxic relationships, etc.? Hell no! What I’m saying is that due to everything she’s been forced to endure and fight again, she is a very mentally unhealthy individual, one who is in desperate need of help. And if an actual relationship between her and Madoka is going to realistically work, well, first something  drastic will have to happen to upset her new system and give Madoka her power back, but Homura is also going to need tons of therapy.

As I said before, Homura’s decision to rip Madoka out of the Law of Cycles and turn herself into Homucifer has been pretty controversial, with many people claiming that it betrayed her characterization. To those people, I would say that they never really knew the real Homura Akemi. The show set up an idealized version of Homura, and people had that ideal imprinted in their mind. And I can’t really blame them for that. The show ended on a big, optimistic moment with Homura making a big speech about how she was going to keep fighting in Madoka’s name. It’s all very stirring, and I can’t fault anyone who would feel betrayed by their Homura acting against that promise.

But as a sadistic bastard in another dark show that is now also very controversial once said, “If you think this story has a happy ending, then you clearly haven’t been paying attention.”

Homura Akemi Did Everything Wrong, and It’s Okay to Admit That

Even though The Rebellion Story got me interested in seeing where the whole Homucifer vs. Godoka thing would go, I still wasn’t all that invested in Homura as a person. I was entrenched too deep in my KyoSaya world, and everything outside of that was just so much plot. Most of my focus was on Resonance Days, which just didn’t involve her at all.

It took years, but three things finally cracked me out of that shell. The first was writing Walpurgis Nights, of course. Granted, Homulilly was more of a Moemura than Homucifer, but that story really made me dive deep into her innate insecurities, to explore her struggles with self-loathing and her reliance on Madoka for any kind of validation.

The second was watching through a few blind reactions to the series, seeing how other people reacted to her character and the things that they picked up that I had missed. One thing in particular stood out to me: during Homura and Madoka’s first meeting in episode ten, Homura is actually shocked when Madoka casually addresses her by her first name, as no one ever called her by her first name.

And the third might get me some hate, but it was through coming across this little video:

Now, like many things I’ve discussed in this post, this video has been pretty polarizing, with some people outright hating it and labeling it as slanderous character bashing. The clickbaity title certainly doesn’t help, and I can’t say I agree with all of its points. But the video really isn’t the character-bashing piece that it might seem like. Rather, it’s as much a deconstruction of a character that has been heavily idealized by the fandom, pointing out the many mistakes and, while it certainly was not her fault, how she was driven more by a personal need for validation rather than selfless love.

That’s when it all clicked for me, all the little pieces coming together.

Despite how badass she appears to be, despite how unwavering her adoration for Madoka is, Homura Akemi is someone who was broken from the beginning, who was re-broken again and again, who never seemed to make the right choice, who was never allowed to have what she wanted, who was never allowed to win, until she finally snapped and ripped apart the carefully-laid plans and systems that seemed to be set against her.

Homura Akemi did everything wrong, and that is fascinating!

Consider: when we first meet her, she is a young girl who has known nothing but neglect, who has been shuffled around by an uncaring system her entire life, who is physically weak due to a heart condition, who is terrified by any kind of attention and is genuinely perturbed just by being called by her first name.

Of all the tragic backstories in the series, hers is easily the worst. Mami and Kyoko’s characterizations are both defined by having a single horrific event in their respective pasts that took everything away from them, events that shattered their worlds and which they blamed themselves for. But at the very least they had something before the cruel hand of fate reached into their lives. Homura never had anything! Her family is so completely out of the picture to not even warrant a mention! Her heart condition leaves her constantly balanced on the precipice of death and frequently leaves her weak and in pain. She’s never had a real friend, never had anyone close, never had anything that made her feel good about being herself. So when the Arch of Victory witch ensnares her with suicidal thoughts, it doesn’t really have to try very hard.

And then Madoka came into her life. A cheerful, outgoing girl who showed her kindness, one who called her by her name and said that it was pretty. Someone who came to her during the scariest moment in Homura’s life like a guardian angel and saved her. Someone who was everything Homura had ever wanted: kind, humble, encouraging, non-judgmental, loving, powerful, protecting, and the list goes on.

Is there any wonder that Homura became infatuated with her? Not one bit.

But then something terrible happened. Madoka and Mami were faced with the horror of Walpurgisnacht, and it killed them. Finally Homura had someone in her life that made her feel good about being herself, and that person was stolen from her. She had to watch Madoka fail. She had to watch Madoka die. And she just stood by and did nothing.

And it is then that Homura made her first mistake. Kyubey being the opportunistic manipulator that he is, he took advantage of her vulnerable state in order to add another soul to his quota. And of course Homura accepted; who could blame her?

But consider this: Homura could have wished for Madoka to be resurrected. Walpurgisnacht had been defeated; it was no longer a threat! Then the two of them (or three, had Mami been brought back as well) would have been together, fighting side-by-side! I mean, it would have eventually ended in tears anyway, but Homura had no way of knowing that. As far as she knew, she was in a traditional magical girl story that just so happened to have a bad end, one that she could have fixed.

Instead, she wished to be sent back in time to redo her first meeting with Madoka, only this time as a Puella Magi. That way, she could help Madoka and Mami prepare for Walpurgisnacht! She could protect Madoka!

It wasn’t enough just to have her dearest (and only) friend back in her life. Homura wanted to switch the roles. She wanted to protect Madoka like Madoka had protected her. She wanted a reason to keep existing, a mission, a way to prove her worthiness, because she still hated herself and needed something to validate her existence.

But it wasn’t that kind of show. She didn’t have all the information. How could she have known that Kyubey was being deceptive? How could she have known of the truth about witches? How could she have known that her time-looping would make Walpurgisnacht stronger? How could she have known that each loop would alter the timestream, entangling both Sayaka and Kyoko in its web?

Still, she kept trying. She made herself stronger and stronger in hopes that she would be able to stop Walpurgisnacht in time. She tried to warn everyone about Kyubey and the witches only to be disbelieved. She watched the others die around her again and again. She watched Madoka either die or succumb to despair and become a witch herself.

And then it happened.

That all-important timeline, where everything in her changed.

The one where she and Madoka finally successfully defeated Walpurgisnacht, but lost everything else. The one where they laid side-by-side in the ruins and the rain, as their cracked soul gems grew darker and the darker. The one where Homura resigned herself to becoming a witch.

The one where Madoka sacrificed her final grief seed, Sayaka’s grief seed, in order to save Homura. The one where she made Homura promise to go back and prevent her from making a contract in the first place. And the one where Madoka died again, not in battle against a witch, but by Homura’s own hand.

Something inside Homura broke that day, something that was never repaired and never will be. It was then that Homura shed the last remnants of the frightened, insecure girl she had been and became the Terminator-esque warrior that we were first introduced to. Her missions was clear then: stop Madoka from making a contract and defeat Walpurgisnacht by any means necessary. Nothing else mattered.

But despite all her resets, despite all her preparations, despite (supposedly) finally having all the information, Homura still kept failing! No matter what she did, Madoka always made a contract and became Kriemhild Gretchen. And Walpurgisnacht just seemed to be getting stronger.

Finally, in the timeline that encompasses the show proper, Homura learned the reason why. She was doomed from the start. Her own resetting of time was only building Madoka’s karmic destiny, increasing the power of both Walpurgisnacht and Kriemhild Gretchen. The more she went back, the more the universe itself stacked the deck against her, and now it was all but impossible. And what was worse, she had done it to herself.

Just look at her in that second to last episode, when she’s lying there bloodied and broken, when she’s about to go back yet again but stops herself. Just look at her face as her soul gem darkens as literal years of despair seep out of the defenses she had built up around herself. She knew that it was hopeless, she knew that both she and Madoka were doomed, she knew that she was seconds from finally becoming a witch after all of her efforts were for naught, and it terrified her.

But then, just as all seemed lost, Madoka herself appeared to save her, but did so through the last thing Homura wanted her to do. She took all of that karmic destiny Homura had burdened her with and made a witch that shook the very foundations of reality. Witches were removed from the equation, and Puella Magi who had succumbed to despair were simply allowed to pass peacefully instead of becoming monsters. The contract system and the advancements wasn’t removed, and the girls’ wishes weren’t negated. But the cruelest aspect of it was.

And all it cost was Madoka’s existence.

Yes, Homura was saved. Yes, Madoka was spared of dying or turning into Kriemhild Gretchen. But the person that Homura had devoted her entire existence to protecting was gone, and by her own hand. Only Homura herself was left to remember her.

Can you imagine how that must have felt, to be forced to soldier on while bearing the weight of that knowledge, to know that you had ultimately failed in your mission and had to go on without the only person that had ever meant anything to you? Sure, there was that whole “always be with you in spirit” thing, but that is a poor comfort to someone like Homura. Yes, the show ends on an optimistic note, with Homura promising to fight on in Madoka’s name, but it’s often been said that the only thing that give a story a happy ending is where you end it. And while I’m sure that many fans would have loved to believe that Homura had done just that, had fought the Wraiths to the bitter end until she was welcomed into Madoka’s arms, the sad fact of the matter is that reality is rarely ever so simple.

In The Rebellion Story we learn how true that is. Without her mission, Homura was unable to keep herself together, and despair did finally overtake her. But instead of peacefully disappearing and being taken by her love, she had made the fatal mistake of confessing to Kyubey of all people the truth about the way things were.

Now, why would she do that? Why tell Kyubey about the witches and how Madoka had changed things? Did she not suspect that he might do something with that knowledge?

Personally, I think she did. Maybe not consciously, but I feel that deep down inside, she hated what the world had become, not because the Law of Cycles had removed a significant portion of the pain, but because Madoka had to erase herself in order to create it. Yes, deleting witches was a net positive, but it wasn’t the positive Homura had been fighting to achieve. Madoka had made her promise to keep her from making a wish, and Homura had to execute her right after. So I do think that she told Kyubey the truth because part of her was kind of hoping he would intervene somehow and bring Madoka back.

And he did, and he did so though screwing Homura over. Again.

Within the labyrinth contained within her own soul gem, Homura build the world she had always wanted to exist. The endless loops had been washed away, and she and Madoka were fighting together in a joyful magical girl show. She worked so hard to build a place that would make her happy, but in the end she had been unable to accept even her own gift, in part because she subconsciously knew that something was off, but also because she had conditioned to be suspicious anything that seems like it would be working in her favor.

Learning the truth broke Homura yet again. She had done this. She had been the one to admit the truth to Kyubey, and he had used that knowledge to ensnare Madoka once more. Her love was again trapped by Incubators, and it was all her fault. Is there any wonder that while everyone was fighting to rescue her from herself, she was screaming for them to stop while her own familiars executed her over and over again?

Homura’s decision to rip Madoka out of the Law of Cycles and again rewrite reality is a controversial one, and I get that. But when you put aside the cool, determined badass that she presents herself as and look at the whole of her journey then it only makes sense. She was sick of it all. Sick of being manipulated by the Incubators and their contracts, sick of having her desires denied by the Law of Cycles, sick of being held back by her own inadequacies. She was sick of losing, and that was going to end.

The movie is called The Rebellion Story, and that title couldn’t have been more accurate. Because at the end, Homura rebelled against everything: against the Incubators, against Madoka, against herself, against a world that seemed set against her from the beginning. She forcibly seized control, dominating Kyubey and his ilk, ripping Madoka from the Law of Cycles and reprogramming her to be sweet and docile, and even erasing Madoka and Sayaka’s friendship so that Sayaka wouldn’t interfere. In the end, she finally won.

And she still hated herself. Even after overcoming everything and embracing her status as the world’s new Devil, we see her own familiars throwing trash at her.

And that is the Homura I came to love. The icy, mysterious warrior that she was presented as just didn’t do anything for me. But the broken girl who seemed to have the entire world set against her, that had what little happiness she had stolen from her time and time again, that made mistake after mistake as she tried to fight against the unfairness of everything and constantly made things worse, that finally said “Fuck it” and forced the world to bend under her will but still wasn’t happy at the end it all? Well, just look at the stories I’ve written, the kinds of stories I gush about. That is a story I can sink my teeth into. That is a character worth investing in, because she is just so damned fascinating!

Now, I’m not going to say that she’s my favorite character now, but her story is the one I’m the most interested in. And when we finally get that long-awaited follow-up, I’m definitely going to be swooning over any and all KyoSaya interactions and watching what happens to Mami and Madoka with rapt attention, but the bulk of my investment will be in Homura’s story, because in a very strange way, her story feels the most human.

Now I just wonder how many people I’ve managed to piss off.

[trickstersteve]

Dance With Me

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: 2979

Warnings: Brief mention of smut. No others we can think of but let us know if there are.

A/N: This was written as part of Emma’s 1k Writing Challenge hosted by @buckyismymainman. We had the dialogue prompt “No.” “I didn’t even say anything!” “I felt a disturbance in the force and the answer is still no.”

This is our first writing challenge and first ever time trying our hand at a fanfiction. Please forgive any mistakes.

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How you wished the ceremony would just end. There you sat, in the first row along with the rest of your family as your brother said his vows for the third time in his life. You’d have thought that after the first one, your parents would have insisted on a small ceremony but no, they’d gone all out. The chapel, the reception, the flowers! By the sheer amount of them, you suspected your family had bought out every florist in town.

You sighed as your eyes fell to your lap. Steve’s fingers were entwined with yours, his thumb idly stroking the inside of your wrist. A shudder went through you at the sensation and you let you mind drift.

You moaned as Steve’s mouth captured your breast. Your hands grasped the sheets as a wave of pleasure washed over you when his teeth grazed your nipple. His fingers ghosted over your skin as, searing a path downward until he hooked his arm under your knee, bringing it up over his shoulder, widening his access to where you wanted him most. You gasped his name as he stroked your clit, inserting a finger, then two into you, making you buck your hips, wanting more of him. He let out a low chuckle, more akin to a growl as he positioned himself. Another moan escaped you but was captured by his mouth on yours as he thrust -

“You may now kiss the bride.”

The officiant’s voice followed by the crowd’s applause snapped you back to reality. Steve gave your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it and joining in the cheer. Reluctantly, you did the same, turning towards your companion in the process. You had to admit, he looked good. His simple navy blue suit with matching tie really brought out his eyes.  Your gaze trailed over him as you admired the way it hugged him just right. You licked your lips as you looked up at Steve who gave you a wink when he felt your eyes on him. Trying to ignore the throbbing heat between your legs, you turned your attention back towards the kissing couple up front.

Photographs were followed closely by supper, which was spent at a table with distant relatives and family friends you barely knew. Steve made the most of it, laughing and sharing wartime stories with some of the older guest seated with you.  Steve sat beside you, his arm lazily draped over your chair. Every time he gestured and brought his arm back across your chair, his fingers would brush against your bare shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

As dessert came around, so did the speeches. One by one, those who were expected to speak stood and made their way to the podium. Polite applause, laughter, awkward silences were all experienced - sometimes all within the same speech. You, however, despite being sister of the groom, had been spared the embarrassment of having to say a few words. All this thanks to your oh-so-favorite aunt who’d claimed you just weren’t interesting. Although, yes you were thankful, the fact your mother had agreed with that statement had stung. At least having Steve with you was a small comfort.

Eventually, the newlyweds excused themselves and all guests were ushered into the main reception area.

Your jaw dropped when you entered the room. Your brother had told you the place was big but seeing it with your own eyes, big was an understatement. The place was huge! You let out an appreciative breath, your eyes taking everything in.

Tables adorned with burgundy and gold cloths were scattered throughout the room forming a border around the dance floor. Every table had two chairs whose upholstery matched the tablecloths. The flickering flames from the candles in their sea glass holders reflected off the two massive crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling over the dance floor, casting streaks of rainbows upon the walls. The stage, which looked better suited to hold a small chamber orchestra than the small four person band getting ready on it, took up a whole wall.

You noticed movement in the corner of your eye. You turned your head and that’s when you saw the saloon style bar in the dimmer far corner. The bartender, in his crisp white Victorian style shirt with a burgundy and gold waistcoat, stood behind the counter, drying a glass as he watched the crowd pile in. Behind him was a wall filled with various bottles. Honestly all that was missing to complete the old time saloon look was the giant mirror behind the bar and him wearing a handlebar mustache. You chuckled at the thought.

Steve placed a hand on the small of your back as you made your way, along with the rest of the crowd, to the edge of the dance area. Your arm automatically went around his waist as you leaned in closer to him to avoid bumping in to some of the other guests.

The air buzzed around you as everyone waited for the happy couple to emerge. The band on stage were making last minute tune-ups to their instruments when the singer stepped forward. As he retrieved a paper from his inner coat pocket, he placed his hand over the mic to adjust it, emitting high-pitched feedback in the process. A collective groan was heard as people shot their hands up to cover their ears from the noise. You winced in pain as the sound went straight through you, and buried your face in Steve’s chest. He hugged you closer and placed a hand on the back of your head. You immediately felt the tension leave your shoulders as you breathed in the faint aroma of spice, leather and something that was just so Steve. A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you let your eyes close.  

“Sorry, ‘bout that folks,” the singer said into the mic, breaking the moment. “So, uh, before we begin, there are a couple of things y’all need to know.”

You half-turned your attention to the man on stage as he unfolded the paper and brought it a little closer. He cleared his throat and listed the instructions your brother and his dearly beloved wished the guests to follow. You picked at a random speck on your dress as the poor man droned on.

“And finally -” he swept his gaze over the crowd before looking back at the sheet of paper “- may you keep your applause until the very end of the first dance so as to not break the illusion that they’re alone.”  Your brows disappeared into your hairline at that. Steve snorted beside you.

“Bit much, don’t ya think?” he snarked in your ear. “We could’ve just left.”

“Yeah, well. Welcome to the family,” you retorted with a snort of your own.

You might have said it a little louder than you thought given the pointed glare one of your relatives standing nearby gave you. You rolled your eyes up at Steve who pinched your side with a chuckle. You flinched and gently slapped him on the arm.

Don’t do that!” you hissed with smile. He flashed you a smirk in response. You looked around and let out a sigh. “Honestly, I doubt that comes from my brother and his wife.” Steve raised a questioning brow. “This has my mother and aunt written all over it.” You heard him suck in a breath.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” the singer’s voice boomed throughout the hall as he tucked the instructions back in his pocket, cutting off whatever Steve wanted to say, “may I present, for their first dance as man and wife, our beautiful newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N!”

Applause echoed off the wall as the crowd parted to let them pass. Your brother and his wife made their way through the opening provided, the photographer taking shot after shot as she preceded them backwards. They stood together in the centre of the dance floor, face to face, their fingers entwined, patiently waiting until the only sound that could be heard was the clicking of the photographer’s camera.

The wedding singer turned his head towards the band behind him and gave a nod. The lights in the room dimmed as the first notes played. Only illuminated by the chandeliers above them, the newlyweds gracefully glided in perfect sync across the dance floor. The soft light reflected off the sequins in her dress as he twirled her. Their eyes never left one another and - for them at least - the world melted away, leaving only them in the moment.

Maybe, just maybe, for your brother, the third time truly was the charm.

A lump formed in your throat as you watched them together, the way they moved, how they looked at each other with such adoration. You looked up at Steve and then back at the dancers. You were jealous. Would you ever get that with someone one day? That happiness? That kind of love? Not with Steve. Not after you’d agreed that that one night together had been a mistake, both of you valuing your friendship more. Tears pricked at your eyes and you blinked them away with a heavy sigh.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to see Steve eyeing you, worry written on his face. You gave him a weak smile to let him know you were fine but by the sigh that escaped him as he pursed his lips, you knew he wasn’t buying it.  He lifted his head and swept his gaze around the room behind you before placing a hand on the small of your back, leading you to a more secluded area away from the gathered crowd.

He stepped forward and pulled out a chair. With a small bow and hand flourish, he indicated that you sit. Despite yourself, you let out a small chuckle, garnering a genuine smile from your companion. Offering him a little head bow of your own, you accepted the proffered chair. He pushed it under you as you sat before coming to kneel before you.

“You okay?” he asked, taking your hand in his. You nodded.

Those piercing blue eyes studied you a moment before he turned them away to look around. He ran his fingers through his perfectly styled hair as he spotted what he was searching for.

“Want a drink?” He jerked his head towards the bar area, a strand of blond falling towards the front of his face.

“Oh gods. Yes please!” you sighed, ignoring the urge to lean forward and tuck that strand back in place.

He chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of your head as he stood. Your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected gesture. Your wide eyes followed him as he loafed towards the bar, leaning on it as he placed the drink order. You tilted your head admiring the view that particular stance offered you. He glanced back over his shoulder at you with a wink and your heart skipped a beat. You looked away so he wouldn’t notice the rising flush in your cheeks.

Steve returned, glasses in hand, as the song ended.

“Your drink miss,” he declared, his eyes lingering on your face as he placed your glass on the table beside you.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” you answered with a chuckle.

He flashed you a smile before taking the empty seat on the opposite side of the table for himself. He reclined and crossed an ankle over a knee as he took a small sip of his own drink. You both sat in a semi-comfortable silence, sipping your respective drinks and watching guests hop onto the dance floor as another song started up.

Laughter reverberated through the hall. Limbs flailed and fabrics swirled to the beat and the tension that you hadn’t realized was there began to leave your shoulders. Your rolled your head, rubbing the back of your neck as you slouched down in your seat, crossing your ankles in front of you. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Steve strumming his fingers on the table or fiddling with his drink as his gaze bounced from the dancing crowd to you.

“No.” He turned his head and looked at you his brow raised.

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“I felt a disturbance in the force,” you replied, turning to face him with a smirk, in your best Obi Wan impression.

He looked like a lost puppy with his slightly tilted head and confusion in his ocean blue eyes. You barked out a laugh, inciting several guests nearby to turn their attention towards the two of you. You dismissed them with a wave as your other hand covered your mouth to muffle the giggles.

“Honestly Cap, one day I’m going to convince you to watch those movies.” You leaned in, propping your arm on the table and pointing your index at him. “And the answer is still no.”

He shook his head with a breathy laugh as took a sip of his drink, placing the glass back on the table as his tongue darted out from between his lips to lap up the excess liquid on his upper lip. You shifted in your seat, crossing your legs to squash the sudden tingle and heat rising in your core. You both turned your attention back to the dance floor where the guests were bouncing along to some sort of Latin-style pop song being covered by the band. Your companion drummed his fingers on the table surface for a time before propping his elbow on it and resting his head in his hand. His finger brushed over his lips as he observed the party.

You grabbed your glass and were about to take a sip when Steve slapped his hand on the table and shot out of his seat. You stared at him in shock as he took the two steps to bridge the distance between you and offered you his hand.

“Dance with me?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

You shook your head. “I don’t dance.”

“Come on Y/N,” he urged, wiggling the fingers of his outstretched hand. “It’ll be fun. Besides -” He lowered his head, looking at you through his lashes, a glint in his eyes. “ - you owe me.”

Your mouth fell open. “For what?”

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. “For coming to this -” He swept the room with his arm. “ - thing with you.”

Taking a quick sip from the glass still in your hand, you narrowed your eyes at the man standing in front of you. You leaned forward in your seat, uncrossing your legs in the process. Looking down at the amber liquid held between your hands, you flicked your tongue over your teeth with a tsk.

“As I remember it, Steven Grant Rogers,” you began slowly, lifting your gaze to him. “You invited yourself to this thing.” You downed the rest of your drink, the liquid burning down your throat, hissing through your teeth as you inhaled. You placed the empty glass purposefully on the table with a dull thud. “The whole ‘Tell your mom to book two tickets Y/N. I’m coming with you’ thing.” You settled back into your seat, crossing your legs while propping your elbows on the chair’s armrest. You steepled your index fingers and looked back up at him through your eyelashes with a smirk. “Ring a bell?”

You waited as Steve looked away. A tic worked in his jaw while he looked around, running his fingers through his ashen blond hair, that wayward strand falling forward again. He turned his attention back towards you, his face unreadable. Taking a step forward, he towered over you as he leaned forward, his hands clasping the armrests on either side of you, effectively trapping you between your chair and him.  You gulped as his face inched closer to yours, his blue eyes dark and never wavering from yours, until your noses just barely touched. You dropped your gaze to his lips which were turned up in a predatory grin. Your chest heaved as you sat frozen in place. Steve’s eyes looked you over, pausing briefly on the rise and fall of your chest before he dipped his head next to your ear.

“And as I remember it,” he purred, “you’re the one who practically begged for someone to come with you to save you from your pesky little family.”

You turned your head until your eyes locked with his. You blinked and looked away, slowly letting the air out of your lungs as you silently admitted that he was right - although begged was a little extreme.

He’d only insisted on coming along after you’d vented about your family frustrations to him. How you could never live up to what they wanted of you. How you were the disappointment despite this being your brother’s third wedding. Hell, your family hadn’t believed you knew - let alone worked with - the Avengers until you showed up for this with Steve by your side.

You licked your lips and Steve stole a glance, the pupils of his eyes dilating at the sight. He came in slightly, his lips ghosting over yours. You caught the faint aroma of whiskey on his breath as he lingered there, hesitant, before he blinked, withdrawing from you with a shake of his head. He took a step back, grabbed his drink and whirled back to face you.

“Like I said, doll,” he shrugged. “You owe me.”

He downed his drink before placing the empty vessel beside yours on the table, clinking them together. He stepped forward with a confidence that said he wouldn’t be refused and once again offered his hand.

“Dance with me.”

[finnwheelerxx-blog]

summertime series: amusement park!

♡♡♡

it was currently noon on a hot june day when finn barged into your room, with your mother’s permission of course, and woke you up. you were not pleased with the rude interruption from your peaceful slumber, to say the very least.

“finn! what the hell?” you grumbled.

“i have a surprise for you, grumpy lump, but if you don’t want it, i can always give it to someone else,” he drawled out, trying not to laugh at the slight pout on your sleepy face.

“what’s the surprise?” you asked with a tired grin. 

“you’ll know as soon as you get up and go downstairs. see you in five!” finn called as he was leaving your room. 

you begrudgingly got out of bed and quickly changed out of our pajamas, brushed your teeth, and did your hair. you slowly and lazily walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, only to be met with the smiling face of your family and finn. 

“so i’m assuming everyone knows except for me?” you questioned, semi-jokingly, but mostly with a slight attitude.

“well, sleepyhead, everyone else was awake, and i needed permission,” finn explained with a grin. you huff and grab a muffin that your mom had previously baked. 

“i’m awake now, thanks to someone,” you point out, shooting a small glare at finn. 

“i told him to wake you, sweetie. in his defense, it took some convincing,” your mother said with a hint of a smile. 

“only because she’s a monster!” finn added with a loud laugh, your mom soon joining in. eventually, you did, too. let’s face it, finn’s laugh is highly contagious, and his words are more true than you’d like to believe. 

“so how about that surprise i keep hearing so much about?” you inquired with raised eyebrows. 

“right. i may or may not have two tickets to your favorite amusement park, and i may or may not want you to go with me,” finn suggested.

“i may or may not love to go!” you squealed with excitement, giving finn a hug. he laughed at your enthusiasm, and gave your small frame a tight squeeze before releasing you. “when are we going?” you asked. 

“tomorrow, but we have to leave here pretty early to make opening.”

“i won’t be grouchy,” you promised. 

↯ TIME SKIP TO TOMORROW MORNING ↯

“time to wake up, honey,” your mom whispered, shaking your shoulder. it was an ungodly hour, but your were beyond ecstatic for the day, which made waking you up an easy task. you were up and at ‘em in no time. your mom helped you pick out an outfit and do your hair. she was almost as excited as you were, and she wasn’t even going. she loved finn, and she knows how happy you make each other. she was excited that you would both be having the time of your lives today, and that was more than enough for her. 

at 6:00 sharp, there was a knock at your front door. you ran over to open it with a huge grin.

“good morning, finnie!” you shouted, only to be shushed by your mom. 

“good morning, sunshine,” finn laughed, giving you a quick hug before moving over to your mom, giving her a hug as well. 

“be safe, guys. have fun! don’t forget to check in...” 

“every three hours. i know, mom. bye! i love you!” you exclaimed as you made your way out the door and into finn’s car. 

the three hour long car ride was full of singing, laughing, and some sleeping on your part. it was a blast, and you could not wait for the amount of fun you were about to experience with finn. 

as you pulled into the park, finn gave the lady his parking ticket and found a parking spot very quickly. finally, it was time to enter the park. it had just opened and only a few people were there, which meant short lines. 

“where to first?” finn asked, eyes wandering around before landing on you. 

“there!” you yelled, pointing at a tall coaster. 

“are you sure?” finn asked nervously. 

“yeah, it’ll be fine, i promise.” you kissed his cheek, then took his hand, leading him to the rollercoaster. 

when you made it to the line, there were only a few people in front of you, which meant you would ride it in no time. 

“are you excited?” you questioned, squeezing his hand. 

“i don’t know.”

“i swear it isn’t that bad. you’ll be okay.”

“okay,” he hesitated with a sigh. 

it was finally your turn to ride. you and finn sat towards the front in the third row. finn was terrified, but you were more excited than anything. the count down began, and you were off. 

finn was screaming. loud. but in all honesty, so were you.

you pealed your head from the back of the seat to look at finn as you were going up a hill. his eyes were closed, but a smile rested peacefully on his pretty face. 

“are you okay?” you shouted. the coaster was almost at the top. 

“yeah! are you?”

“yep!”

with that, down you both went. screams filled the air. 

“holy shit!” finn yelled. you laughed hysterically and hollered back, “oh my gosh!”

the ride ended, and you and finn rushed over to the building to see what your picture looked like. finn had his mouth wide open with his eyes crinkled, hair flying up. you were smiling; your eyes were almost closed from pure glee, and your braids were swinging backwards. 

“hi, can i buy our picture, please?” finn requested to the cashier. 

“of course,” they replied. 

he purchased two photos: one for you, and one for him. 

“this is my new favorite picture of us,” you told him.

“yeah? me, too,” he confessed, taking hold of your hand. 

after riding almost all the coasters, you and finn decided to take a break from all the adrenaline, and you got in line for the carousel. 

“we are way too old to ride this,” you chuckled. 

“nonsense! you’re never too old for fun,” he joked. 

the person in charge gave you both a funny look when you walked on, which sent you both into a laughing fit. you found two horses next to each other and ran over to claim them. finn took the tall one, and you hopped on the short one. there’s definitely a height difference because finn is a giant. 

you pulled out your phone and took a selfie with finn and sent it to your mom. 

“thank you for bringing me here,” you smiled up at finn. 

“no worries. i would gladly do it again.” 

the ride began, and once again, you could not stop laughing. maybe it was the adrenaline, but the most likely reason is you were both so happy around each other that it was hard not to laugh.  

♡♡♡

this is my first finn imagine, so i hope it was okay! i wasn’t sure how to end it, but i think this ending is okay? idk lol anyways can we talk about how cute he is in that picture wooooow 

also, there a couple things i wanna say quickly. firstly, my imagines will contain very little kissing if any at all. finn is way too young for that kind of stuff, and i don’t feel comfortable writing about it. secondly, i will most likely not write with capital letters because i think lowercase is more casual and adds more personality. next, i will probably be messing around with the layout of my imagines. i want to find the style i like best and what works best for me. lastly, i like to write about my personal experiences, so there will be hints of my life in these imagines. i find it easier to write about things i know and have been through, and it’s a great outlet for me. with that being said, some of these imagines may be quite sad, but if that’s the case, there will be a warning in the beginning. please, stay safe. if you ever need to talk, my inbox is always open. 

thank you all so much for reading!! have a fantastic morning/afternoon/night, you beautiful people!! xx

[caps-lockdown]

Sweater Weather Part Four

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG GUYS! If I’m being honest I fell out of love with this part pretty quick, and most of it is a filler chapter. There’s some flashbacks for the sake of plot, just FYI. Anyway I hope you all enjoy it!

Also I realize that some of the flashbacks may not completely add up to the actual timeline of films, so just ignore that. Thanks. 

Pairings: Steve Rogers x PottsRelativeFem!Reader

Ratings/Warnings: R 

For everything from language, crude jokes, ADULT situations/impure thoughts, booze (because it’s pretty much a staple in my fics at this point.), arguments, and an extremely overprotective Tony Stark. Very little angst, as I try to keep most of my fics light humored. But of course there are some insecurities/unsure feelings, as well as sad feels from everything with endgame/ the decimation. Also dead parents.

Also AU in the fact NO ONE DIED during Endgame/Steve didn’t go back. Also as much as I adore Morgan Stark, she isn’t around yet. I didn’t know where this would fit timeline wise, so just ignore the timeline. Kay? Cool.

Words: 5,442 (Ish)

Summary: You’ve just moved to New York after a long 3 year stint travelling the world and helping with various charities, taking a new job with Stark Industries thanks to your cousin Pepper. A trip out to surprise Tony and The Avengers for the weekend turns from good to terrible when the a/c at the compound breaks. How will you beat the heat for the record breaking weekend?

It’s in Y/N Y/L/N format, any pictures, outfits, gifs, and marvel characters just assume I don’t own them. Also no Beta, as I don’t ever have one, so the mistakes and reader are all my own. Enjoy!

Part Four

To say that dinner was awkward was the biggest understatement of the century.

Everyone sat at the table in silence, barely making eye contact with anyone else, the sound of scraping utensils and the nervous clearing of throats the only noises passing the time. You picked at your food, zoned out and trying not to acknowledge Tony’s sulking figure at the end of the table. True to your word you sat next to Steve, thankful for his large hand on your thigh and occasionally giving you a comforting squeeze. Or drawing circles on your knee to help keep you grounded, which you appreciated more than words could convey.

All of you had finished eating when Pepper decided to find her voice, setting her fork down with a large clang that made you jump.

“Alright. It’s been an hour and I’m sick of it. This silence is stupid. This whole fight between Y/N and Tony is stupid. I would kill both of you if I didn’t have so many witnesses here right now. So can we please try to find a way to get you two to freaking apologize? I didn’t keep you coming back a secret for nearly six months for nothing Y/N.” Your gaze became hazy at your cousin’s firm tone, feeling childish for how you had acted earlier.

“And you!” She glared at her husband, who already was appearing to feel two feet tall at the present, “Y/N isn’t even back for twenty four hours and you have to feel obligated to shove your way into her personal life?! She is an adult, who she decides to spend her time with is her business. Not yours. Her mother was suffocating enough when she was alive, she doesn’t need you to fill those shoes.”

“I’d pay to see Stark in heels.” Sam’s quip had you chuckling, remembering the sky scraper height of some of your mom’s footwear.

“I wouldn’t last twenty minutes in those things.” Tony’s quiet voice snapped your eyes to him, and you saw first hand how guilty he was truly feeling about the whole ordeal. “Pep’s right. Y/N I am sorry for how I acted earlier. You are an adult and even though I may not like the idea of you and…Steve” He said his teammate’s name almost painfully, swallowing a large gulp of his wine and staring at the two of you, “You’re both truly wonderful people and I won’t say I told you so if it goes down in flames. I love you short stack, I just want you to be happy.”

“Thanks Snark. I tolerate you for Pepper’s sake, and I will accept your apology only because we’re related. Also because I’m tired of seeing you look like someone burned down your lab with all of your suits locked in it.” Watching his face break into a small grin forced you to do the same, everyone clapping at the two of you morons and getting up to clear the table.

“So what’s the plan for the evening? It’s too hot to do anything strenuous.” Sam commented, the dishes cleaned and put away. Pepper had to sit on you in a chair to keep you from helping this time. Surveying the living room your mind began to work, your earlier activities with the air cooling inventions coming to mind.

“How about we move all of the fans and coolers into this room? It’s pretty much secluded and we can hang a couple tarps from outside on the doorways to help keep the air in? We can play a drinking game? Didn’t you say you had some of your mead with you Thor?” The blonde nodded as the rest of the group looked at you with astonished faces, Bucky coming to grasp your hands in admiration.

“If Rogers here is ever dumb enough to mess things up with you, know that I will make his life a living hell for losing someone so damn smart. Seriously, your amazing brain got a sister or somethin?” You giggled as Steve rolled his eyes at his friend, Sam and Thor leaving to grab the aforementioned tarps from outside.

“Watch it Barnes.” Your pulse lurched as the blonde nearly growled at his best friend, the brunette tossing a cheeky wink over his shoulder at him.

“What you gonna do Punk? Throw me into another wall?”

“SO THAT��S WHY THERE’S A DENT IN MY HALLWAY?!” You burst into laughter as Tony stared at the two men, hands on his hips and looking nothing short of annoyed. Bucky and Steve had the decency to avoid his gaze, muttering ‘sorry’s as the two men returned, making short work of duct taping shut one of the entrances to the room, you giving a thumbs up in approval. It’s like they had read your mind. All of you then returned to your rooms to grab your cooler and fans, well you only replaced the ice in yours. No way were you going to drag your giant chest all the way down the hallway. It had taken all of your strength just to dump out the cold water outside your low window. Yes you could ask one of the men to help you, but if you were being honest you didn’t want them to notice, not when your room was an easy twenty degrees cooler than the rest of the compound. Screw that. They were super heroes, you could have this one thing.

“Alright so what game we playing?” Bruce questioned after you had played “musical furniture” to help block the one doorway to help cease air flow on the one side, fans and coolers surrounding the room in a circular fashion, constantly circulating air in different directions. It was already feeling better by the minute, most of you pulling chairs to avoid sitting on the warm couches and love seats.

“I figured “Never have I ever”? We haven’t played that one since the wedding. We have a few years to make up for.” You shrugged, Tony agreeing with a loud “Hell yea!” that threatened to blow your eardrums out. You all made your drinks from the copious amounts of booze Stark and Pepper had brought from their stash in their suite, making a mental note to ask them about it later. They really should invest in building a bar in this place. Taking a seat next in between Sam and Nat, you smiled at Steve and Bruce across from you. Thor threw himself into a chair next to Bruce and Nat, Pepper was gladly the buffer between Tony and Steve. Bucky finished out the circle on Sam’s left putting him next to Tony. You should have known they’d be sitting next to each other, you were gathering that they were the duo of the group. Not that it bothered you.

“Alright as it is my building I’ll start us off.” Tony jumped on the claim to go first, all of you not even putting up a fight, eager to get to drinking this hot and sticky weekend away. “Never have I ever kissed a man.”

“Low blow honey.” You smiled as Pepper jabbed her husband in the ribs while taking a drink, you and Nat following suit. Everyone’s eyebrows raised to their hairlines as Sam took a drink from his glass.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We don’t want to know. My turn?” Pepper chuckled, looking at you with a smile. “Never have I ever gotten a speeding ticket.” You drank.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you, you shrugging as he thought of something to say.  “Never have I ever shaved my legs.” The chorus of laughter rang loudly at Tony taking a drink with you ladies.

“Never have I ever had a hangover.” Bruce admitted, you staring at the large man bewildered as to how he could live through one of Tony’s parties.

“Alright, ahem never have I ever flown with the help of a suit.” Thor grinned as the respective men (and Pepper) took drinks from their glasses.

The game continued on, you finding out really fast that no one was wasting time holding back punches, the hours ticked by and before you could comprehend it you were mixing your fifth drink of the evening. The alcohol was making you sway to music that wasn’t being played anywhere but in your head as you crashed back into your chair, Nat leaning herself onto you for support as she took off her shoes. The group was well on their way to being properly sloshed, Tony and Pepper laughing at nothing with Sam and Bucky while Bruce and Thor went to move to the floor. All eyes moved to you as you waved your free hand in the air, trying to stay balanced on your seat.

“Ok my turn! Never have I ever saved the world!” Your words slurred, everyone groaning as you beamed at them, watching Steve finish his third glass of mead and a very pleased looking Thor refilling it without being asked.

“Alright Y/N.” Sam began, you lazily side eyeing him as he smirked. “Never have I ever kissed Steve Rogers.” You stared blankly into his brown eyes, missing Nat sneak a drink from her glass, the mentioned blonde man starting to develop a slight pink tint to his cheeks. “Seriously? I thought for sure you guys would have been playing tonsil hockey by now!”

“No we haven’t.” You said a little too quickly, heat rising to your face. “I would definitely know if we had. I have a feeling that kissing Rogers isn’t something a girl would ever forget.” Your voice was loud and you clapped a hand over your mouth, but the damage had been done. You tried not to look at Steve, his wide smirk making you want to drink yourself into a coma.

“Oh please don’t bring that up. I don’t want that in my head…too late it’s in my head now. Fucking thanks.” Tony wiped his face with exasperation, you snorting as Bucky went on to say he’s never been skinny dipping. You took a drink at that, the guys whooping and hollering and asking for the story of how that happened.

“Highschool. Cheerleaders…dared some of us band geeks to do it during senior day. They stole our clothes while we were in the lake, so we had to call our parents. My mom lectured my ass for two hours when she showed up.” You were in a fit of giggles by the time you finished, Pepper joining in as you fell off your chair and onto the floor, Steve looking concerned for a split second until you erupted into more giggles.

“I think Y/N’s cut off for the night.” Sam mentioned, you bringing your face into a small pout before giving up within a few seconds to giggle again. Your body was buzzing from all of the liquor, and you knew you had to stop before you made a giant idiot out of yourself.

“Shaddup Sam, I’mma be fine.” Yea that was you stopping.

“Never have I ever had sex!” Tony exclaimed, the attention being taken from you to look at the obviously drunk billionaire. “I just wanted to take a drink, I’m totally lying.”

“Ya don’t say?” You cast a knowing look to Pepper that made her duck her head down, taking a rather long draw from whatever concoction Tony had made her.

“Guys…guys it’s…it’s two in the morning. Holy shit. “ Bruce looked at his wrist watch in shock. Time had flown by and though you were having an amazing time, sleep was going to start claiming victims before too much longer. You steadied your wobbly legs as you stood up from the floor, holding onto your vacant chair for dear life as the room started spinning.

“I’m going to go the bathroom.” Steve said rather loudly, jumping up to his feet and downing the contents in his cup before walking out of the room. You smiled drunkenly at all of your friends, giving them a mock salute with the hand that wasn’t still grasping the metal frame of your seat.

“I think that’s my cue to get some sleep. Night all.” You waved, confident you could make it back to your room without any incident as you stepped away from them with ease. It was going great until you managed to trip on a fan cord, thankful Thor had been nearly right behind you and managed to catch you from eating the carpet.

“Let’s get you to the safety of your bed before you hurt yourself.” His deep voice jolted you from slipping into sleep standing up, managing a lopside smile with a short nod. You allowed the god of lightning to walk you carefully to your room, letting him tuck you into your bed and placing your phone on your nightstand, making sure it was plugged into the charger. You reached out to grip one of his massive arms, a warm smile on your lips.

“Thanks….Thor. You’re the…the best.” You mumbled as he patted your head affectionately, you falling asleep as soon as he flipped the light switch.

“Y/N pass out?” Steve asked when the blonde returned to the group, everyone deciding that they would sleep in the living room where all the cool air was.

“Yes she is most certainly asleep. I’d wager she could sleep through an entire alien invasion with how much she’s consumed tonight.” Thor laughed, Steve looking happy to hear you had no trouble slipping off into dream land. “Luckily her room is like an ice box.”

“You gonna go keep her warm Agent Smolder?” Bucky joked. “Am I going to have to stay up and make sure you don’t go and sneak off into her room later?”

“LA LA LA I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” Tony interrupted Steve’s next words, covering his ears in a poor attempt to shield himself from having to take in the conversation. They watched with amusement as the man shoved one of the couch pillows over his head as he and Pepper got comfortable, Nat taking the loveseat and stretching out.

“Guess that leaves us the floor then huh Buck?” Steve sighed, eyes rolling as Sam loudly began snoring from his passed out position on the last small couch in the room. Bruce had taken the large recliner Tony had built for him, and Thor was slumped against the far wall, slowly drifting off, his stein still half full of mead.

“Looks like it Captain Cutie!”

“When will you stop with those stupid code names?”

“When you finally ask Y/N out. Or make some kind of move! You waiting on the leaves to change colors or something?” The brunette shoved at his friend’s large shoulder before laying down on the ground, reaching to take off his shirt and throw it to the side. “A dame that looks like that will have guys beating down her door once she gets settled. You better not let them get that chance, not when I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“Goodnight Bucky.” Steve muttered, turning away from his friend after removing his own shirt and placing it next to the pillow Nat had thrown him.

“Goodnight Stevie.” The brunette cooed, both of them slowly succumbing to tipsy slumber.

~~~~A couple hours later~~~~

Steve’s bloodshot eyes shot open at the inescapably deafening snores that ripped through the living room in the wee hours of the morning. He sat up with a soft moan of discomfort, deciding that he would rather roast alive than have to listen to this for another moment longer. His gaze wandered to the empty loveseat, knowing full well Nat had gotten sick of the blaring assault on her ears as well. He stumbled slightly towards the hallway, remembering his shirt when he entered it. He waved it off and began his trek down the hall. He’d get it in the morning. Coming up to his room he jiggled the handle to find it wouldn’t budge.

“Friday…my door won’t open.” He went to shove at the door, the outcome the same as before.

“Captain Rogers that’s because it’s not….”

“Open my damn door Friday I want some sleep!” The blonde huffed at the AI, jiggling the handle again like a child. He was drunk, tired, and did not have time for this.

“Language Captain. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The door opened and Steve not too gracefully stumbled in, immediately noticing how much colder it was in his room when it shut. Huh, he was certain he had taken his fan Y/N made him into the living room. Maybe she had made him another one and managed to get it in there earlier in the evening. Yes that had to be it. He could hear it circulating now, the cool breeze floating through the air as he made his way deeper into the darkness.

“Damn!” The curse fell out of his lips as he stubbed his toe on what he was assuming was his dresser, which had magically shrunk in height. Weird. He ran a hand through his hair as he sat on the edge of the bed. It was right where he left it at least, in the middle of the room. His mind wandered to you, how nice you had been to make him another cooling unit for his room. You were so selfless and kind, always helping others before yourself. It was remarkable really. You had lit such a fire within him too, and he had to stop himself multiple times this weekend from doing exactly as Bucky had suggested and shoving you up against the wall and making you forget your own name. He had it bad, but then again he always had. You just weren’t someone he ever thought he deserved before.

Flashback, May 8th 2012

“Well that was a total bust.” Steve’s heart stopped temporarily as he felt you slump into the couch next to him, you taking out pins that were holding up your fancy updo with contempt.

“That bad huh?” He asked, trying to ignore the fire dancing in his veins as your arms brushed against each other in your hastened attempt at tearing your jewelry off.

“All he wanted to talk about was his ex-girlfriend! I left before dessert. I was really looking forward to that stupid cheesecake.” You muttered angrily, running your hands through your hair. The battle of New York had set you on edge, not wanting to be alone the next time the world decided to have a crisis and trying your hand at dating. Steve was silently extremely happy it hadn’t worked out. Mostly because he didn’t want to see you with anyone besides him. Just thinking about…what was his name again…made his blood boil.

“Didn’t he have a weird name?” He allowed his arm to drape behind you on the couch as you scooted closer to him, taking the remote and popcorn from the coffee table and flipping the channel. Steve hadn’t been watching it anyway, the only reason he was even awake was because of you. He hated admitting it, even to himself but the thought of you out having a good time, laughing at some other man’s jokes, or god forbid flirting with him had given the Captain a rather unhealthy case of insomnia leading up to the date. And they had just saved the world from Loki.

“Kelly. From work. This is why I don’t date coworkers.” You sighed with another shake of your head, deciding on Princess Bride that was halfway through its broadcast. His breath hitched as you snuggled into his side, the two of you laughing away your sour mood. He loved your laugh, how musical it was. Actually he didn’t think there was anything he didn’t love about you, even if he hadn’t known you a long time. You had only moved here a few months ago, your parents passing away in a car accident and leaving you extremely lost. Pepper of course took you in, and you got on with Steve like gas on a fire.

“Thanks for being here Rogers. I know you don’t have to be and I’m sure you could use the sleep since you just saved the world and all. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t mention it Doll. Glad to help. Just don’t wake me up if I fall asleep.” His heart soared as you gave him a bright smile.

“Then don’t snore.”

The two of you fell asleep together on the couch before the end credits played, you cuddling into his side and his arm draped around you.

November 2015

“I swear to god Tony you ever pull a stunt like that again and I will murder you!”

“I was just trying to help!” The brunette man snapped, Steve chuckling from the dining room table as he watched you and Pepper try to wave away the giant mushroom cloud that was emitting from the stove. The smoke detectors blared viciously as Thanksgiving was proving to be a disaster at the Tower. It hadn’t been too long ago since they had defeated Ultron, the team deciding that they would try to have a giant Thanksgiving day meal to reconnect with each other. Truth be told he had been looking forward to seeing you the most, your new article writing job taking up most of your time as of late. He didn’t mind, he was super happy for you pursuing your dreams. Your bubbly personality made you tons of friends in college, and people weren’t wrong to love you at your new job too.

“THEN STAY OUT OF THE DAMN KITCHEN!” Both of you yelled in union, pushing the older man out of the room and into the dining area, Steve shaking his head as Tony attempted to look hurt. He didn’t take long to snap out of it, helping the Captain with setting the table. Sam and Nat were soon to enter, each carrying a dish of some sort. Clint had chosen to stay with his own family for the holidays, and after everyone had met them, the blonde avenger could understand why. He wished he would one day have a family like that, especially after seeing Peggy again. You of course were being super wonderful about the whole situation, offering to get coffee with him after he would see her, just to listen to him talk about a woman who wasn’t you. You always felt just a bit jealous at how his face would light up as he recalled one of her good days, and how much it hurt to see him after one of her bad days. You couldn’t pinpoint why you felt that way, you just did. You and Steve had only grown closer as the years had gone by, but it had become pretty clear to you that he only saw you as a friend.

Friends always responded to your S.O.S texts about Tony like he did. Even now as you entered the dining area carrying the only slightly scorched turkey to the table, he was the perfect friend and immediately reached to help you. He followed that movement with pulling out a chair next to him for you and passing you a glass of your favorite white wine that not even Tony or Pepper had remembered to grab. Friends do that.

“This looks amazing Doll, you and Pepper always knock it out of the park. I’ve missed you.” You flashed him a prideful smile as he set his large hand over yours, giving it a slight squeeze. “Missed seeing that smile too.”

Yeah. Friends.

2016

Peggy Carter’s funeral had been over for nearly two hours by the time Steve finally took a moment to check his phone. His eyes were burning from the tears that had fallen during the course of the day, and for once he wasn’t sorry that he had ignored everyone’s attempts at getting a hold of him. That was, until he saw he had a text message from you. Navigating the notification window on his phone with shaking hands he brought up the communication window, pressing the download button on your conversation bubble and waiting for it to load. He was always amazed at how fast modern technology was, the large sum of words popping up within a small fraction of time, his eyes squinting slightly through the pain and reading what you had sent.

“Hey Cap. I know I can’t be there today with you, and I want you to know how much that is killing me. Nat and Tony have filled me in with everything going on, and I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. About everything.” Steve scoffed at you mentioning Stark, the terms of which he and the other avenger had left things a few days ago were less than friendly. This entire accords situation was absurd, at least in his eyes, and he couldn’t wait for your cousin in law to get his head out of his ass. He wasn’t so sure that would ever happen though.“I know you will never ask me to pick a side, and Snark has been smart enough not to ask either. I don’t know all of the details but I do know neither of you can ask me to choose one of you over the other. Not that you would. You’re one of the best people in my life, and I’ll personally be super happy when all of this blows over and I can see you again. Tony pretty much has me under lock and key here, even Pepper is getting sick of it. In case things go sideways, which it’s looking pretty damn likely with my dumb ass cousin involved, please know that I’m here should you need me. I’m and phone call away and you know where I live. If I’m not there you know about the gnome. Anytime. No questions asked. Stay safe for me Steve, Y/N” He would never take you up on that offer, things turning from bad to worse really quick for The Avengers. He never did get to tell you how sorry he was for not responding to your text, or tell you how much it meant to him.

2020

The room was noisy and filled with happy drunk people celebrating the union of Pepper and Tony Stark. You stood in your simple light blue dress, looking on at the simple affair with thankful eyes. They had gotten lucky with the Decimation, still managing to have each other after everything. Your heart ached for Clint and Steve, knowing they had lost the ones who mattered most to them, and you were exceptionally thankful you still had your cousin, well now cousins.

You hadn’t seen much of Steve since the snap, and had heard from him even less. Not that you held that over him, you knew him and Tony still weren’t on good terms, and you couldn’t blame him for staying away. Still, you had wished you would have gotten to see him before you left.

“Hey Short Stack look who made it!” You moved to look at Tony, who was holding a very stunning Natasha in his arms, your smile reaching your eyes as you went to hug her tightly. Most of the team had gone their separate ways when they failed to defeat Thanos, so you were more than elated to see your other favorite red head on your last night in town.

“Heya Nat! I’m so glad you could be here!”

“Of course Y/N. I wouldn’t miss your send off, and the free drinks. Congrats you two.” You laughed as she wasted no time taking a champagne flute off of a passing tray, taking a long sip and linking arms with you as the newlyweds were dragged away again. “Have you heard from Rogers?”

“No, should I have?” Your eyes narrowed in question while Natasha shook her head in annoyance.

“That man. I told him to reach out before you left us. I literally just told him today when I saw him at the meeting! I know he really does miss you Y/N.”

“He has a funny way of showing it Nat. Don’t sweat it, you tried.” Patting your friend on the shoulder you took your phone out of your clutch, seeing Kate had texted you to remind you about the drink plans you had made for tomorrow on the way to the airport before you caught your flight to London. Nothing from Steve. “How about a picture? You look amazing and I need some more photos on this new phone to keep me company while I’m gone!” She agreed and you quickly flipped your camera app open, capturing a few last moments with your friends and family. The rest of the night was a blur as you danced and drank, looking forward to whatever your future would bring.

The next day at the airport was hard. You were thankful you hadn’t worn an ounce of makeup, crying easily as Kate, Tony, Pepper, and Nat all said their goodbyes to you. You had watched them pull away from the drop off curb with blurred vision, your heart breaking at the acknowledgment that you were really leaving. Off to help various countries with varying charities. It was the least you could do during this awful time in the world.

“Y/N!” You turned your head slowly, your breath being sucked out of you as you recognized the familiar head of blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes moving for you in the crowd. You hoisted your backpack higher onto your shoulder, nerves getting better at you as you tried to offer a small smile. You hadn’t seen him in months and he still managed to have this effect on you. Willing yourself to pull yourself together you bit back a laugh as he almost looked winded, reaching your standing figure with slightly labored breathing. “I had to see off my best girl.”

“Please. I haven’t been your best girl in years Steve. But I appreciate it all the same.” You smiled, your heart breaking as he looked down at the pavement shyly.

“Listen about that…”

You were quick to cut him off, “Don’t worry about it Cap. You did what you had to do, and you’ve been through a lot over the years. No hard feelings.” Your voice was flat, and he grimaced at the tone of indifference. He was literally screaming at himself, internally demanding that he just man up and kiss you. Tell you how sorry he was for everything, how you were, are still the most amazing person in his life and how he wants to start over. Beg for your forgiveness and promise to take care of you. Anything to stop you from getting on that plane and disappearing from his life for who knows how long. “I should get going, customs is going to be a drag.”

“Right. Well have a good flight. Don’t stay away too long.” He’d kick himself for the rest of his days, seeing you give him one of your giant smiles, although he could tell you didn’t fully mean it, and step towards him to initiate an awkward hug. It felt rushed and forced, but he would be lying if he hadn’t wanted it to last longer than a few seconds, missing the way your body would just melt into his just like they did in days of old.

“I’ll miss you most of all.” His ears perked up at your small admission, the sentence being no louder than a careful whisper, watching you blink back tears and grip onto the shoulder of your bag tightly. He’d miss you more, knowing full well part of his heart was getting on that plane with you. But he said nothing, just smiled and gave a small wave to your retreating figure, watching you until you were completely out of his line of sight. You hadn’t looked back once, but the tears that clung to the corners of his eyes made him partially glad you hadn’t.

~~~Now~~~

The memories faded and Steve wiped at his eyes sleepily, the mead Thor had given him proving more potent than he had remembered, his body falling hard onto the side of the bed. It had made a noise that had almost sounded like a sigh, the man shaking his head in drunken disbelief. How crazy would that be? A bed can’t sound like a person. He stayed on his side, staring into the darkness as it began to swallow him.

The last thing that went through his mind before he fell asleep was how much his pillow smelled like you.

Tag List: @kaytizzle @cuffski @giggleberts @pies-wands-and-more @chrisevansfanfic @yesno18 @zsuzstyina @zombiepotterfour @evanstush

[avoutput]

Final Fantasy VII Legacy || Memories of a Great Storm

Legacies take shape before you, around you, through you, and beyond you. As incredible as it might be to be the subject of a legacy, the true strength of a legacy is how it builds you up. When you are young and finding yourself, the building process is a ride, a rumbling beneath your feet, wet clouds in the sky above your head. When a legacy is forming, there are signs that you are still too young to see, but you can feel it. It beckons to you, wanting you to be a part of it. You want to stand at the shore of its coming alongside all the others who want to feel the waves at their feet. Like all storms, everything has to be just right. And like a tree falling in the woods, someone has to be there to witness it, to tell its tale, and in doing so, this tale becomes woven into you. Because it isn’t just the storm, the waves, the quaking that makes the legacy, it’s the people who survive that keep it alive. Final Fantasy VII was for me, this great storm.

The first time I played Final Fantasy VII was on the floor of my cousin’s room on Christmas day. Every tsunami starts as a ripple. I didn’t have a Playstation. In fact, despite reading multiple gaming magazines, I must have glazed past it, because I had never even heard of it. I was too blinded by the Nintendo 64 and its legacy. I went from a Nintendo baby to a Sega kid between console generations, and I missed out on a lot of the SNES until the end of its life cycle. I didn’t want to miss out again, so I put on blinders and put in a parental request for the N64. You can imagine my surprise when FF7’s opening cinematic played out on a tiny tube tv. The ripples became waves and the ocean began to move. When I started playing, I wasn’t even sure what was happening, who anyone was, and how there could have been 6 other games I had never played. My cousin was trying to explain the concept to me, but I couldn’t hear him. I just wanted more. But, it was Christmas day, and in my family, that meant family time. Work. Maybe a slightly unique aspect of my family, but Christmas presents were opened at night around the entire extended family. The middle-kids were responsible for passing out all of the gifts to every other member of the family, and this was a long and painful process, especially for an 11 year old. Once everyone was finished, the middle kids opened their gifts in front of everyone. And even though I hadn’t asked for it, all I could think of was how much I wanted one of those boxes to be a Playstation. Not only did I not have any luck with that, I also didn’t get longer than 30 minutes with the game. Instead, every moment was punctuated by familial obligation. I went home unhappy, unsatisfied, my mind never left Midgar. I took a step further from the shore, deeper into the water.

The internet was still young and so was I. The best I could do, the best I could find, was fan pages and old magazines with little information. I absorbed as much as I could, but color pages and chibi gif animations of the FF7 crew just couldn’t cut it. But in all of the noise, there was some news. They were making a PC port of FF7. Alarm bells. Surely my 2 year-old desktop would be too far behind to play the game. My dreams felt again dashed. Through all of this, my obsession made my mother vaguely happy in a roundabout way. The desktop background of the living room PC was Tifa, and her big breasts helped my mother believe I wasn’t as gay as her earlier impressions, a conspiracy theory of her own making. To this day, she still makes jokes about Tifa. The only thing that would have only made her happier is if she was black. Anyway, the world had caught on to Final Fantasy, and I wanted to be a part of it. But when you’re 11, time is much more of a key to gaining something, it has to pass for anything to happen. As an adult, you can make things happen, but kids, they need an angle. A hard angle. That usually means you need the parents to come through, but they need to be unwitting participants in your obsession, pawns in your game.

Luckily, my dad was KING PAWN. My father, always the type to want to be on the cutting edge, bought us (himself) a laptop. This was out of nowhere, no prodding or manipulation, and while his claims for having bought the machine for work and school were dubious at best, I went with it. And with that came the specs I would need to play the PC version. But there was a catch. Christmas had passed and my birthday was in the fall, months from our current Spring. There wasn’t a free pass in sight. No amount of chores would fill my coffers and quell the storm in my heart. I need another rube. But with Spring came green. Money right out of the ground. My best friend had a lawn mower and I had a plan. Get this, what if we mowed lawns… for money? Bam! Winning ticket. There were one million old ladies and lads dying to give money to cute kids dragging a lawnmower from house to house. After mowing what felt like one thousand lawns, I was able to buy a copy. The storm was becoming a hurricane.

It was time to monopolize my dad’s new toy. Like most of his new toys, if it wasn’t a paperback book, he spent barely any time with it after a few weeks, so it worked in my favor. As fast as childhood actually passes, to children, the relative perception of time’s passing is slower than an adult’s. The more they want something, the longer it takes to manifest. Mix that with a negatively polarized Murphy’s Law, and you get your worst scenario; a computer that can run the first few hours, but crashes during certain enemy moves. This is where we meet the eye of the storm. My resolve is broken, my will shattered. How will I ever play this game? A million years passed (about a week), and that is when I realized my closest friend had gotten a new computer that last Christmas. A proper desktop model, in his own bedroom. It hadn’t occurred to me to bring the game to his house because PC games required an install and I couldn’t just bring the game home and continue my save file whenever I felt like it. Still, that next weekend, like every weekend, we had a sleepover, and for the third time, I started the game over. I took the game as slowly and methodically this time as I had before. The eye of the storm was slipping past. I was able to pass the Sector 5 Slum to Sector 6 tunnel I had gotten stuck in at home. By that time, I was the only one left awake. As I neared the top of the Shinra building, I could feel the storm in my heart reaching a fever pitch. I was so close. I saved Aeris, met Red XIII, beat Rufus, and sat in awe as Cloud rolled down the stairs on a thundering motorcycle. My heart was racing as I took out enemies to save my allies until there was no more road left. I was so excited, I was at the edge of Midgar. As I punished the highway monstrosity between me and my escape, the storm was beginning to calm, and then, turning red, he melted down and exploded in Final Fantasy fashion. And I had done it. My characters were free. The game was over. To be continued in Final Fantasy 8. RIght?

The hurricane died down, the characters begin to discuss their next steps. At this point, I have been playing around 9 hours straight. It was about 2 or 3 AM. I was just beginning to resign myself to take to a pillow and pad on the floor. But then the earth beneath the sea began to move and the waves began to take shape once again. And then, suddenly and with no provocation, the city of Midgar became a mere fraction of its size and Cloud became a giant. The world had shrunk and in the distance the curvature of the world could be seen. I began to move around and enemies appeared on my path. The waves miles of shore had become the size of skyscrapers. All at once I realized that it wasn’t the end. There was more. So much more. It wouldn’t be Final Fantasy 8 until I beat Sephiroth. There were 2 other discs. What was I thinking? Of course there was more. But why did it take so long to get here, to find more. I was bamboozled by the sights and sounds of Midgar, sung a sirens song by Avalanche and Shinra, and believed my mission would take shape and be completed inside the walls of some slums in some city that surely didn’t make up the entire world. Sephiroth and Shinra were a threat to the world, not just the people of this city. That was when the tidal wave met the shore. A tsunami of realization. A whole new identity was consuming me.

In the calm of the wave that had consumed me, weightless in my memories, my brain started making connections. My cousin introduced me to manga like Dragon Ball and Akira. I had grown up on a steady diet of Mario Bros, Sailor Moon, Sonic the Hedgehog, not to mention the growing phenom Pokemon. He told me all these animated dreamscapes came from Japan. A friend of mine showed me Final Fantasy III on his SNES, but it didn’t excite me like Link to the Past or Mario Kart. Cloud was not in Final Fantasy III as far as I could remember, but I had missed the other installments in between. And the world didn’t look at all similar. Who made this game? Squaresoft? I’ve never played a genuine Nintendo game on a computer before. But this came out on Playstation. What is happening? Oh, Sephiroth put a tree through a snake. Maybe all of these things are Japanese? My cousin told me Sega and Nintendo were from Japan. Wow, that is a big cannon and now I have to march and get on a boat? How much longer could this game be? I could feel myself getting tired. This is a nice beach town. What time is it? I have to get to the Golden Saucer next. A tap on my shoulder, sun in my eyes, my friend says, “Dude, you are still awake? Did you play all night?”

My eyes were open. The tidal wave had passed and I was baptised a whole new person. I was awake floating on a sea of my own consciousness. The next 10 years of my life would be shaped by RPG’s, Anime, Manga, Computers, D&D, and Cinema. Nerd Culture. I found a whole new person after playing Final Fantasy VII. It put together pieces that had been lying scattered, shaping a fan, a creative, and a more curious soul. I would challenge peers to try these new experiences, hoping it would awaken them the way it had me. I hadn’t realized that what awoke me was the perfect storm yet and that for most people, they wouldn’t be able to experience it the same way I had. I was able to find comradery in my closest friends and all of these cultural touchstones bound us even to this day. Final Fantasy VII’s legacy, maybe all legacies, aren’t just the collective experiences of having been a part of its success, but in the lives that were shaped around it; we are the base at which the monument stands. It’s legacy is strengthened by those who survived the storm and it continues to thrive because it was the perfect storm. A storm that still draws people in. A great storm that never died. A story we all still tell.

[im-tops-bottom]

Dear @puppy-bitch24

Logan watches as Iron Man comes flying in to help out against Doom bots. He watches at how breathtakingly beautiful Tony works that suit as he takes down bots left, right and center whilst letting everyone know of any sneak up behind them at the same time as being a complete little shit.

"about time you show up shell head"

"oh go suck a dick birdbrain. Or maybe I can suck yours. Haven't decided yet."

"chatter!"

"sorry Cap."

"sorry star spangled banner. It was birdies fault."

"you wanna go you little shit"

"guys what did I just say?"

Logan can't help but chuckle as he hears Clint and Tony apologize over comms. That laugh dies down at what Tony says and does next.

He watches Tony land down beside Steve. Watches how well they work together. There is a reason they are co-captains. Both smart, great at multitasking and work so well with each other that they can come up with new battle strategies midbattle and still pull it off without any need for practice.

"oh come on Rogers. You know your dick is the only one I need in my life"

"oh wow how rude Tony. I thought we were best friends. What happened to broes before hoes?"

"it died out Barton. Once he got that patriotic dick he never wanted anything else"

"oh god babe I would love it if you could shut up"

"I'll keep embarrassing you if you don't stop the chatter"

"fine"

"good boy"

Yup that will definitely leave a sour taste, Logan thinks as he hears Clint laughing through comms before Steve tells Jarvis to mute Clint until he calms down. Logan can't help but start to think what Steve and Tony see in each other. They are as on and off as Rachel and Ross on friends. Well with the exception that when they get into fights they go hard. Broken bones and bruises get involved if no one is there to stop them.

Sometimes Logan wants to just drag Tony off and claim him. Make him his. Make sure Steve doesn't come back for him. Give him a good reason to leave Tony. Give Tony a reason to do better. He's better. But he can't. He knows he can't. He doesn't want to hurt Tony. No matter how much of a brat he becomes. Oh speaking of brat....

"Tony get back here right now! Thats an order! Tony!"

Logan watches Tony go into the giant Doom tent where doom currently has something hiding in there. Tony's comm becomes fuzzy and Jarvis starts saying that the tent is running interference.

"shit"

After a few minutes a blast happens and something goes flying through the air and not stopping.

"shit it's Tony"

Since Hulk, Thor, Loki and Stephen aren't here, it only leaves Logan who starts running and

"got him!"

Logan is shocked as he had just seen Steve climb on top of a bus and tackle the iron suit out of mid air. He heads up to them and sees that Steve hit the ground first while the suit landed on top of him.

Steve gets up and quickly rolls the suit over. It's still too hot so Steve looks up at Logan. It's his time to shine as he brings out his claws and starts tearing the suit apart while Clint, Natasha, Bucky make sure no one gets to them.

They see Tony is badly hurt and Steve starts calling for medics. Logan stands up and stares at Steve saying for him to look after while he goes for Doom. Steve nods as he begins to head over to the tent while taking out bots along the way.

As soon as he gets in he sees Doom laughing as he starts the machine. He starts running to try and stop it but has to stop as a bright light blinds him.

He wakes up to a room that he recognizes so well. 'was it just a dream? No wait. It can't be. I left the mutant school and moved in to the compound' he quickly sits up and sees a newspaper that gets sent to him.

"2012? Sudden realization dawns on him and he groans "it was a god damn time machine"

"is everything alright Logan?"

He looks up and was about to breathe out 'pheonix' but keeps it to himself. It hasn't happened yet. Right in front of him is the lady he was so in love with back then. It's in the past. Speaking of past, he quickly gets up and gets ready.

"yeah. Sorry I just got somewhere to be."

He sees that surprised look across Jean's face and can't help to care. Not when he can try and change the course of the future. He's done it before. Why not do it again. Maybe this time things will change for the better. He rushes past Jean and heads to the garage to get his bike and drive off to the one place he knows everyone would be.

-20 minutes into the future-

"Fury sir, we got someone from the X-Men claiming to be from the future and has come to help"

"future?"

"yes sir"

"and how do you know he isn't lying?"

"because it's wolverine and he mentioned Loki sir"

-5 minutes later-

"so what do you know about loki?"

"that he's Thor's brother who is under mind control by thanos who plans to remove 50% of the planet with the help of stones and a gauntlet. He needs his staff which has the stone that controls him and helps him control others. There are plenty more intel I can share."

"and why did you decide to come to show and tell?"

"because maybe I can save the world faster and also prevent Tony Stark from getting even more ptsd when he tries to save the world"

"Tony Stark? The g-"

"genius, billionaire blah blah blah. Yeah heard that all before and believe me when I say don't buy it for a minute. You are a spy aren't you?"

He smirks as he sees Natashas eyes go wide as Clint mutters an "hes awesome" while sitting back on his chair.

"and why should we trust you? Tony Stark doesn't play well with others. Tony Stark is not recommended. To-"

"Tony Stark needs to stop talking in third person"

Logan says as he stands up and turns around to see the man himself. Still looking as gorgeous as ever and he let's out a little gasp that he quickly covers up as he sees a small smirk on the man's face.

"why should we believe you?"

"what if I told you some hard hitting facts?"

"oh yeah? Like what?"

Logan sees a challenge and decides to go full on.

"I can say a few things that you have told me that no one has ever known?"

He sees Tony's smile falter and his eye brow raise as he crosses his arms.

"name one"

"I can name several. Where would we like to begin?"

"dealers choice fuzz ball"

Logan smirks as he stands right in front of Tony.

"well for starters you hate everyone in the team"

"I'm not apart of the merry band of misfits claws. You gotta be more specific if you want us to believe it"

Alright Tony you asked for it.

"you hate Black Widow for saving you when you had palladium poisoning. You were ready to let go and die. You had already made a will to leave everything to Pepper and Rhodey. You hate Clint because he slept with you and while you started liking him and warming up to him, you find out his little secret that he was working alongside his girlfriend Natasha and they needed to go undercover to get every little bit of information they can out of you."

He sees the guilty expressions across both spies faces and rolls his eyes. Thry deserve it for lying to him. Nat gets bonus points for keeping him alive.

"you like Bruce because he never did anything wrong....yet. now this is where we get to the good bit"

Just as Logan says that Fury, Maria and Steve walk in.

"you hate Steve Rogers. You hate him because of what happened during your childhood. Your dad was so in love with him that he hated you. He called you a disappointment, a drunk regret. Tells you when he is drunk why weren't you like Steve Rogers. He blamed you being born for stopping any chance of him getting together with Steve. They only time he smiled in your presence was if someone mentioned Steve or Cap. Other than that he was always drunk and angry around you. One night it got so bad that he let one of his friends have their way with you. You were only just a kid."

He sees Steve's face look like a kicked puppy. He looked so sad and wanted nothing but to cuddle Tony. Maybe Steve has always had a thing for the short brunette.

"at first there was only one reason you didn't mind Steve and that came in the form of one Bucky Barnes. When you were a kid, he was your favorite. You had a Bucky bear that Jarvis had given to you. As you grew up you realized that you had a huge crush in him. This started off your liking for men. As you got older you started getting into women as well. You were glad that Steve went missing and was in whatever frozen waters but you were sad that Bucky went missing and presumed dead"

"dead? What do you mean presumed dead?"

"I'll tell you after I'm done with the resident genius."

He feels somewhat guilty for making Tony cry but he can't stop. Not without the final striking blow.

"you hate Steve Rogers because as soon as he was found and unfrozen, as soon as you two met, you knew you couldn't hate him. He had taken your breath away. You fell so hard that you don't know what to do with yourself. You keep quiet about it because it's Steve Rogers and you just don't want to like him because he ruined your childhood"

Logan pats Tony on the back as he sits back down on the chair.

"how about you guys run along and I carry on with my interrogation?"

Everyone leaves as he turns back to Natasha.

"now where were we?"

-1 hour later-

After Logan spills about what's about to go down on the helicarrier soon and helps come up with a plan, he makes his way out to get some air. He sits on the edge and watches the clouds move under his dangling legs. He thinks about what happened back in the interrogation room. He thinks about Tony's facial expressions throughout the whole thing amd how he acted later on. Speaking of Tony....

"hey speaker of truths, mind some company?"

Logan doesn't start anything as he knows Tony enough that he isn't surprised when the smaller sits down next to him anyway.

"so I see we talk alot in the future"

"at times I can't even get you to shut up. It takes good ol' Rogers to tell you to pipe it that you calm down"

"do we ever you know get together?"

"who's we?"

"Steve and I ?"

Logan takes a breath before he tells Tony everything. From how they become fuck buddies, to getting together. From their Rocky relationship to them breaking up Everytime they have a fight to them getting together again days later after some apology sex.

"did you and I ever have a thing?"

"we didn't get together officially. We only had flings here and there whenever you and Steve broke up. You always thought that that was the final straw only to find out the next day sometimes Steve would come over to my place and drag you out proclaiming he's going to kick my ass if i ever touch his things ever again"

"but I'm my own person. I am not a thing nor do I belong to anyone"

"that's what I told him but he can get really possessive. Don't worry, I saw his facial expressions back there. It looks like he likes you too"

"what should I do?"

"Maybe go have a word with him. It may make you feel better. Maybe it won't. It won't hurt to try though."

”thanks. I'll go do that."

[writernotwaiting]

Mis-Matched, Part 4

In this chapter: Sigyn is frustrated; Loki does some work in the library (real research this time); and woosh, did someone turn up the heat? I think it just got a little warm in here.

Title: Mis-Matched Rating: M (this is subject to change at the whim of the author’s muses) Characters: Loki, Sigyn, Frigga, Theoric, and various supporting OCs Description: This is an attempt to fill the propmt requested by @someillplanetreigns (and now I can’t even tag you!): “you asked for prompts and pairings - I would like to humbly beg for more Logyn? I don’t have a great prompt, but this odd thought is in my head about a way to make the comic plot about Theoric and the marriage into something about marriage by proxy? Maybe something like Loki has the duty of proxy-marrying Sigyn cos Theoric’s in the army, and totally plays everyone by going the whole hog and appearing as Theoric, but then Sigyn, who thought Theoric was dull as ditchwater and Loki is… well, y’know, Loki.” I’m not sure this is precisely what you wanted, so I apologize in advance for my wayward muses – Loki does what he wants. Chapter: 4 of 5 -- yes, I know; I said that this would be the last chapter--I swear to god that the next chapter really will be the last one! I’m really sorry! Acknowledgements: thank you @icybluepenguin for serving as one of my favorite Editor Supreme and Director of Continuity Oversight!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 on Ao3

__________________________

        As soon as she was able, Sigyn practically ran back to her room, stuffed her skirts into her mouth and screamed. There wasn’t even anything she could break or set fire to—none of it was hers, and surely the smoke would attract attention. She sank down to the floor in front of the desk chair and beat the cushions for all she was worth.

     Aaaargh! The Norns are having a mighty fine laugh at this, aren’t they? So much for patient resignation. He can’t do this to me! I can’t do this. How am I going to survive this?

        She sat on the floor arms draped over the seat cushion for a good 15 minutes before she started feeling really stupid, and finally looked up, and turned around to lean back against the chair leg.

     Ah, goat’s piss, girl, you do what you’ve been doing. Keep your head down. Smile and nod. Be helpful, but not too helpful. Don’t set anything on fire. By all that’s fated—DON’T SET ANYTHING ON FIRE!!!!

        This whole behaving one’s self was definitely overrated. Well, one small consolation she could count on was that after consummation, Theoric would be absent from home often—as long as Asgard was at war, his services would be needed elsewhere—and Asgard was always at war with someone. Thank the Norns for tiny favors.

     Her father’s money would keep Theoric’s aging estate afloat. Herr Braggison would get whatever kickback Theoric had promised, and Sigyn would be well out of the public eye and away from anyone who might be overly interested in enforcing immigration statutes. It then occurred to her that maybe she should read up on those statutes while she had access to a law library, so she at least knew what I’m hiding from.

        See? I can be rational.

        She looked at the time piece on the mantle—two hours until supper. Time enough for a quick bath before she got her notes in order for the queen. She reminded herself of her mantra:

        Smile and nod.

        Be helpful, but not too helpful.

        Don’t set anything on fire. [read more cut below]

        Loki, on the other hand, went right from the botany library over to genealogy. He had already looked through Theoric’s and Herr Bragisson’s pedigrees with a fine-toothed comb and hadn’t come up with anything suspicious. Theoric’s blood was as blue as the underside of a glacier—an ancient country estate with impeccable bloodlines. He was probably even Odin’s fourth cousin twice removed. There was nothing improper to dredge up there. It did, however, confirm his hunch. The estate was ancient but was parasitical. It had no means of supporting itself in the style to which its owners were accustomed, and badly needed an influx of cash.

Herr Braggison’s bloodline was quite a bit more mundane—money made in trade—and he certainly seemed to need no money, but Loki had seen enough of the man to know that his veins flowed with the ink of a ledger, so some profit motive for Sigyn’s marriage arrangements would come as no surprise.

        Today he would delve into Sigyn’s family. But here he ran into a bit of a road block. Loki found the father—a trader in exotic wines and alcohols. He could trace the paternal line with no trouble. As for the mother . . . nothing. Well, not nothing, there was a marriage certificate. But that’s it. He searched everywhere.

        Alright then, what was Trygge doing in the year before he married Ilona. That meant reading trade records.

           I hate reading trade records.

        But how hard could it be, really? Merchants had to apply for travel within realms—it wasn’t always safe, what with shifting alliances and trade agreements, so if Trygge had gone off-world there would be permits involved. And it wasn’t all that difficult to find them.

     Alfheim.

     Trygge had applied to travel to Alfheim to buy sweet wines, there were the dates, but wow, he was gone for a long time.

     That’s an awfully long trip for just sweet wines. Was there anything else in the import manifest?Where’s the manifest? Of course, it’s in a completely different part of the library.

     Trade manifests.

     Ah ha! Sweet wines. Elven liquors. Fire whiskey. Lots and lots of fire whiskey?

        Fire whiskey was from Muspelheim. There is no trade agreement with Muspellheim. There had never been a trade agreement with Muspellheim. Intercourse with Muspellheim is, in fact, strictly forbidden and has been for ages.

        So, Sigyn’s father had purchased fire whiskey through a third party? Did Alfheim have a trade agreement with Muspellheim?

        More records—lists of liquor dealers in Alfheim 900-1000 years ago.

Norns, I hate trade records!

        Two hours later, Loki had come up with one possible source—there was one—singular—dealer of fire whiskey in Alfheim during the ten years prior to Trygge’s marriage to Ilona. The Fire Stone Inn: sole proprietor, Aeldit—formerly of Muspellheim.

        Wow! Look at that stack of permits.

           Permit #6870043: special dispensation for non-citizen ownership rights to The Fire Stone Inn to one, Aeldit, formerly of Muspelheim

        Well, that answered the question of how Tryyge had bought fire whiskey without traveling to Muspellheim, but look at all these other permits:

           “Permit #6870044: special dispensation for non-citizen proprietorship of a hospitality-oriented business, to aforesaid Aeldit.

        Permit #6870045: special dispensation for non-citizen sale of food and beverages, to aforesaid Aeldit.”

Permit #blahblahblah . . . Ah! alright then--

        “Permit #6870056: for the manufacture and sale of fire whiskey, ‘based on his father’s own recipe.’

        Permit #68070057: safety dispensation for a minor involved in the manufacture and sale of fire whiskey—daughter, Ilona, claimed to be essential in the running of family business.”

           Wait, what?

Daughter, Ilona, essential in running the family business.

           Trygge’s wife—Ilona.

           Urd’s stinking well, Sigyn’s mother was a fire giant!

        Why does that make Sigyn even sexier?

        It doesn’t matter, because by all the water in Urd’s stinking well, I am stupidly in love with her.

        He went to his mother right after supper.

        “We have to talk.”

        “Have you discovered something?”

        Loki looked around to make sure all of Frigga’s ladies had gone. “Fire whiskey.”

        Frigga furrowed her brow. “Don’t be cryptic, dear. Occasionally you need to spell things out, even to me.”

        “Sigyn’s father, Trygge traded in exotic liquors. While on a trading excursion, he found a supplier for fire whiskey. Made by an actual fire giant. Who had a daughter.”

        “Yes?”

        “Trygge married the daughter. Sigyn’s mother was a fire giant.

        “I beg your pardon?”

        “Sigyn’s mother was a fire giant.”

        Frigga sat down.

     It’s not often Loki struck his mother silent. He tried to savor it, but he was a little too nervous to really enjoy it as he ought.

        When she recovered, her response was probably predictable.

        “That’s not possible, Loki. There’s been no legal interaction with Muspellheim for millennia, even diplomatic contacts are mediated.”

        “A person who lived lived in Alfheim and sold fire whiskey was granted a huge stack of permits granting him “non-citizen’s rights” to operate the business. Sygin’s father was a liquor importer and acquired massive quantities of fire whiskey while on a trip to Alfheim. He also, seemingly, acquired a wife on the same trip, a wife who has the same name as said dealer in fire whiskey.”

        “And there were no other sources for the fire whiskey.”

        “Well, elves definitely do not make fire whiskey using a family recipe.”

        “No, they do not.”

        “And when you think about it, Sigyn definitely does not look as though her mother was an elf.”

        Frigga sighed. “No, she does not.”

        “So Trygge probably smuggled his new wife into Asgard when he returned with three barrels of legally purchased fire whiskey.”

        “Because of course there are no records of her mother entering the realm legally.” Frigga frowned as she spoke.

     Loki shook his head. “None.”

     “And does explain her father’s insistence that she marry early, and well.”

        Loki nodded and began to fidget with his hands. “Is this a problem?”

        “Potentially.”

        “How big of a problem?”

        “Honestly? I’m not sure.”

        Loki dropped onto the sofa next to her. “Mother, honestly? I really need it to not be a problem.”

        She carded her fingers into his hair. “Oh dearest, you know I’ll have to speak to your father about this.”

        Loki groaned.

        “Well, he would have to be involved in these discussions at some point, anyway, sweetheart. This just means I will have to involve him a little bit earlier.”

        They sat quietly for a few minutes before Frigga broke the silence, “There is still the matter of the contract.”

        “Actually, I’m not all that worried about that. I’m pretty sure Theoric only agreed to the marriage because his estate desperately needs cash, so I really think he could be bought off. And since the marriage has yet to be consummated, and I’m also fairly certain that the contract is not strictly legal, since Sigyn is not a legal resident. If this is the case, then the contract could easily be annulled. By the proper authorities.”

        Frigga smiled, “By the proper authorities.”

        “So really the biggest obstacle is  . . .”

        “Your father.”

        “My father.”

        “And you might want to speak to Sigyn, as well.”

        “Right. That could be important.”

        So his mother would talk to Odin, and Loki would talk to Sigyn.

        Goat’s piss. I’ve got to talk to Sigyn.

        Loki cloaked himself and went to find her room.

        For her part, now that it was getting late, Sigyn sat in her bed staring at an open book that she had not been reading for the last 30 minutes.

     She wasn’t frustrated any longer.

     Sigyn was angry.

        What in the known universe was Loki playing at, anyway? “We’ll talk later.” What does that mean? There is nothing to talk about. What gives him the right to jerk me around like that when he knows I can’t do anything? Selfish bastard. Just because he’s a prince he thinks he can have whatever he wants and do whatever he wants and there won’t be any consequences. Well, there might not be any consequences for him, but there absolutely be consequences for me. Permanent consequences. I can’t even defend myself without getting into trouble. I would set fire to his spellbooks if it weren’t a waste of good reading materials.

        Of course, just at that moment, someone knocked on her door. Who in Asgard . . .?

        She tied her robe tight over her sleep clothes and pulled open the door.

        “Loki?”

        He glanced quickly down the hallway before asking, “May I come in for a short while?”

        “That’s really not a good idea.”

        Loki swore he felt the temperature drop, and he swallowed nervously. “I cloaked myself. No one saw.”

        “And that makes it ok?”

     He felt colder. “I just need to talk to you. Please?”

        After a long pause, Sigyn reluctantly stepped out of the way so he could pass into the room. Once he was fully inside, she stood against the closed door and crossed her arms, making no attempt to make him comfortable.

        Loki fidgeted as he stood in what little floor space existed in the small room. Finally, Sigyn jerked her chin upwards and raised an eyebrow. She was not in the mood to be helpful. “Well?”

        Loki frowned briefly, then pulled the chair away from the desk. “Won’t you sit down?”

        “No, I think I’ll stand, thank you.”

        “Alright, if you prefer.”

        “I do.”

        Loki moved over to the bed and wrapped a hand around one of the posts as if its solidity would serve as a mental brace. He cleared his throat. “I want to talk to you about your contract.”

        Sigyn’s mouth fell open, this was clearly not the conversation she had been expecting. “What?”

        Loki stood a little straighter and ran a hand down the front of his jacket. “I want to talk to you about your marriage contract. You never signed the betrothal papers, and pardon me if this seems to overstep my bounds, but I sense that you are less than enthusiastic about the marriage. I feel it’s my responsibility to make sure you aren’t entering into something unwillingly.” He took a breath. “Sigyn, has this marriage been forced on you?”

        Sigyn opened and closed her mouth several times trying to find words that made sense, her face suddenly hot as she looked Loki directly in the face and tried to decide whether she was embarrassed, frightened, or enraged. In the end, all she could spit out was, “Why do you care?”

        He couldn’t quite maintain a neutral facade when he replied, “Well . . . it’s a matter of honor . . . why would I not care?”

        She snorted. “Honor? Is that what you call that little display in the library, then? Is a seduction more honorable when it’s only a woman’s reputation at stake rather than her husband’s?”

        He flushed. “That has nothing to do with this.”

        She crossed her arms again. “Does it not?”

        “No. Yes. Not the reputation part, but . . . ah, Freya’s cats are easier to talk to. Why are you making this so difficult? It was a simple question.”

        Sigyn walked right up into his personal space. “Not. So. Simple. You explain yourself or I’m not answering any questions. I’m not going to be manipulated into becoming a hanger on.”

        “A hanger on? Is that what you . . .? No! That is not what I meant at . . . how could you think that?”

        “Really?” And looking at him like he had quite lost his higher brain function—which to be fair, he rather felt he had at that point—Sigyn turned away and sat down heavily in the desk chair.

        Loki scrubbed his face and grit his teeth. He made a fist and jabbed a finger in her direction as he took a deep breath to speak. He snapped his mouth shut again, lips in a tight line as he scrunched his eyes shut and counted to five.

        He opened his eyes and breathed out heavily before he spoke, “I don’t want a hanger on. Alright. Here is the truth—and you really aren’t playing fair here, but this is the whole of it because you are clearly not being rational—I don’t want you to marry Theoric. He’s a thick-headed, slow-witted idiot, who’s never seen the inside of a book that he liked, whose preferred bed-mates, pardon my crassness, have all been blond, enormous-breasted doxies. The very idea of you spending the rest of your life linked to that rock-headed ass-end makes me furious, and I would actually prefer-it-if-youwouldmarrymeinstead-and-I-think-I-can-get-you-out-of-your-established-marriage-contract-wouldthatbeprefferabletoyou?”

        By the time Loki got to the end of this speech Sigyn’s eyes were as wide as trenchers and her mouth hung open in shock. She blinked. Closed her mouth. Blinked again. When she finally responded, her voice was very small. “I have no idea how to answer that.”

        “Yes. You could just say yes.”

        “It’s not that simple.”

        “I think it is.”

        “There are things that make this particularly complicated.”

        “I know.”

        Her brow pulled together in frustration and sat up straighter. “No, you don’t know.”

        Loki walked over to her and pulled her chair around so he could lean against the desk while they talked. “Actually, I do know.”

        Sigyn cocked her head suspiciously, both annoyed by his seeming obtuseness, and aroused by how effortlessly he shifted her around in that chair.

        “I do know,” he repeated, but then Loki suddenly realized the potentially stalkerish behavior of his research, and his eyes darted nervously between his hands and her face before he gathered the nerve to launch into his explanation, “Right. Please don’t take this the wrong way. I, um, I did some research—a lot of research, in fact, in the library—and I, um, found out about your mother’s origin and why those origins might be the reason for Herr Braggison’s insistence on this particular marriage and its haste, and um, I want to assure you that those origins are very much not a problem for me, and I am willing to, um, work toward not having them be a problem for any other, erm, potential contracts that you might, um, choose to enter into.”

        Sigyn’s voice came out in a whisper now. “And you would like for that contract to be with you?”

        Loki finally looked directly into her eyes, and his voice also became extremely quiet. “Yes.”

        “And how,” her voice still low, “do you propose to make any of this possible?”

        Loki dropped to his knees in front of her, took her by the hand and began to play nervously with her fingers. “I believe that, since the contract was made between a citizen and a non-legal resident who was also a minor at the time the betrothal was signed, that the contract is not legally recognizable. I also believe that after the contract is annulled, that I can petition the royal council to grant you permanent residency after which you could legally enter into negotiations for a new contract.”

        “And you have reason to believe that petition would be granted, why?”

        His gaze shifted from her face to the fingers he held in his own, and he smirked. “I have it on good authority that the petition would be supported by the queen.”

        A slow smile began to show on Sigyn’s face to match the warmth that had started to spread through her chest. “Do you, now?”

        “I do,” and when his eyes moved back up to meet hers they were full of mischief.

        “Well then, it might be worth an attempt.”

        Loki’s focus never wavered from her face as he leaned forward and brought her fingers to his lips. “We’ll consider it a plan, then.” And though the first touch of his lips to her fingers was a chivalrous gesture, the next thing she felt was the wet tip of his tongue when he brought it out to taste the very end of her fingertip, and then his teeth began to nip. Her mouth once again fell open and she flushed down her chest as he took the tip of that finger into his mouth and sucked gently. Her heart beat hard enough to shake her clothing and her breath became shallow.

        He slowly slid her finger out of his mouth and asked, “Is this alright?”

        Her assent was the smallest of nods.

        He smiled broadly as he moved even closer, his face centimeters from her own, hands sliding up her arms to rest on either side of her neck. “Then perhaps this would be agreeable, as well.” He brushed her lips with his own, feather light, thumbs resting under her jaw, then pressed forward into a soft kiss.

        Sigyn drew back barely enough to break contact. “That would absolutely be agreeable,” she whispered, and leaned into his touch once more, lips parting in invitation.

        She closed her eyes as she concentrated on the soft warmth of his mouth, on the taste of him flooding hers, and on the slow, wet slide of their tongues against one another. When they finally broke apart nothing existed but the dark green eyes inches from her own. She could barely breathe, even as her fingers found bare skin at his neck and fluttered over it, as if she could taste him that way as well, feeling the lines of muscle and following them up to trace around the shell of his ears, brush the softness of the lobes and comb through the hair at the base of his neck.

        His own hands explored downward, sending tingles through her skin as he followed the collar of her sleep shirt over her clavicle, down to play at the dip in her cleavage, sneaking inside the fabric to cup her breast as he leaned in again for more of those glorious kisses. Loki drank in the little notes of pleasure that welled up with each touch, just as Sigyn swallowed down his own soft moans.

        A distracting crick in his neck prompted him to pull back just slightly. “Sigyn, can we . . .?” And pushed the chair back slightly before pulling her down to straddle his lap on the floor and into another kiss. “Mmmmm, mch bttr.”

        She giggled and wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him to settle in as close as possible, gaining a needy groan for her efforts as she felt his cock hard through their clothes and she rocked against him.

        Loki buried his face in her neck. “Oh Norns, Sigyn, I have dreamed about this.” Soon his lips mouthed wetly at her pulse point as he inhaled the smells of her—soft amber soap mixed with the lingering scent of the library. His mouth continued its travels south. He pulled her tunic aside to reveal a smooth copper shoulder, and he paid worship to the newly revealed skin while she watched, mesmerized by the path marked out by his lips and tongue, by the contrast between his ivory complexion and her own darker skin, whimpering when his hand lifted her breast free of the shirt and he sucked at the tight nipple he discovered.

        Loki smacked his head hard on the desk behind him when someone rapped loudly of the door.