#the isolation the guilt the DRAMA

[brennan-lee-mother]

I know it’s largely comedic right now, but “everyone who comes near you suffers a terrible fate” is such a hard hitting, devastating trope and my mind is already going crazy imagining all the potential angst

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Drew WWX and LWJ after I finished my rewatch of The Untamed a few months ago. I have gotten marginally better. May this set a benchmark for what to expect from this blog.

June 2023 redraw, June 2024 redraw

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

man but IMAGINE the fics if bbh had turned the whole island against forever by lying to them.... the fandom reaction would have been horrorific but the one or two fic writers who Got the dynamics? oh my god it would the gayest thing i'd ever read

[welcometogrouchland]

I will feel so tired that it's like my atoms are coming undone and I'm being made unreal...and then I will have a little chocolate treat and for 15 minutes I am whole and present again. Then the horrors

[hagravenholm]

What a day

[cyberclouddream]

What Makes You Feel Isolated or Confined

The 12th house represents how we delve into unseen and hidden aspects of existence. Sometimes we’re not ready to confront these areas, and they can turn into a prison.

Aries Rising

- escapist tendencies

- absorbing other people’s emotions

- struggles to articulate feelings

- unfulfilled dreams, ideals, or spiritual longings

- lack of clear boundaries with others

Taurus Rising

- pressure to conform to expectations

- feelings of unachievable freedom in circumstances

- lack of understanding from others

- regrets about impulsive behavior

- restless energy that makes them feel stagnant or unfulfilled

Gemini Rising

- attachments to material comforts

- pressure to maintain appearances

- suppress emotions in favor or practicality

- rigid routines that resist unpredictability

- emotional dependencies on people or situations

Cancer Rising

- fear of commitment

- overthinking that can lead to paralysis

- balancing need for interaction and solitude

- superficial connections that lack depth

- inability to express deeper emotions

Leo Rising

- strong attachments to the past

- fear of abandonment

- the pressure to nurture others

- fear of exposing true self

- need for security, making it hard to take risks

Virgo Rising

- pressure to maintain confident or fun facade

- fear of being under-appreciated or overlooked

- stifled creative expression

- need for drama or excitement

- tendencies to seek validation from others

Libra Rising

- pressure to appear perfect

- need to control details

- overthinking and cycles of self-criticism

- emotional baggage that’s hard to sort through

- desire for routine that can feel stifling

Scorpio Rising

- desire for harmony that prevents expressing true feelings

- tendencies to overanalyze relationships

- emotional dependencies on others

- longing for connection

- pressure to maintain appearances

Sagittarius Rising

- trust issues because of fear of betrayal

- need for control

- unresolved trauma or emotional wounds

- tendencies to repress desires

- the intensity of their inner world

Capricorn Rising

- feeling restricted by obligations and responsibilities

- fear of being tied down

- fear of missing out

- overextending themselves, leading to burnout

- the need to find deeper meaning or purpose

Aquarius Rising

- pressure to always be in control

- fear of failure

- suppressed emotions after prioritizing practicality

- guilt over not achieving enough

- sense of duty and obligation

Pisces Rising

- need for individuality and innovation

- fear of losing freedom

- desire to rebel against societal norms, authority, or traditions

- need to always remain objective

- overanalyzing emotions

[awsydawnarts]

So, obviously, Brooklynn’s “death” was DEVASTATING for the others, and while they’re all going to be thrilled that she’s alive, I think it’s safe to say that there will be some conflicted feelings about it. So, who is going to be the person who immediately shrugs, says “makes sense”, and moves on, and who’s going to stew on it for an entire season? Well, here’s what I think, in ascending order of rage:

1: Ben. Ben is immediately going to shrug, say “makes sense”, and move on. Not only would he be a bit of a hypocrite if not, but the Dark Jurassic conspiracy theory stuff will make him very receptive to the idea of someone faking their death. The man has been eating out of a boot.

2. Yaz. I think Yaz’s pragmatism will make it so that she is able to see why Brooklynn did it (depending on why she did it I guess) faster than the others. It’s not that she doesn’t care about Brooklynn and wasn’t upset when she died, but I think Brooklynn’s death hasn’t changed her life or her approach towards life in the same way that it has for the other three.

3. Kenji. 3 and 4 are interchangeable I guess, but I kind of want Sammy as second to last. I think Kenji will take a bit longer, but he’ll come around eventually. I do feel like everything that has happened has really shattered his trust in Brooklynn, so getting that back will be harder than forgiveness. Ultimately though, I think Kenji’s relief that she’s still alive and he hasn’t lost another person will overtake everything else.

4. Sammy. I really want Sammy to take a while, although it would probably in the show be more focused on Kenji and Darius. Sammy is someone who cares so, so deeply about her friends. The idea that someone who she loves so much would willingly hurt her as much as Brooklynn has done??? Inexcusable. Sammy is going to be PISSED, because the campers are FAMILY and you don’t DO that to FAMILY. The only person whose worldview and entire existence was affected more than Sammy was…

5. Darius. Of course. Idk, if Darius isn’t pissed at Brooklynn I’M going to be pissed. Darius fell to PIECES after Brooklynn died. This man was calling his dead friend’s phone to tell her about the DINOSAUR HUNT he was embarking on after QUITTING HIS JOB to GET REVENGE on a DINOSAUR. Darius stopped talking to his family, had a huge falling out with Kenji, and isolated himself from everyone in his life except for the ghost of Brooklynn in an attempt to alleviate the guilt and somehow fix her death and she was ALIVE THE WHOLE TIME??? I want Darius to be SO angry. I want it to go on for much, much longer than everyone else in the group. I want to have everyone trying to convince him to go easy on her and he can’t. He won’t. I want ALL the drama. I want Darius and Brooklynn to be FURIOUS with each other and then kiss about it

[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a Card: What have your OPPs learnt so far by Messing with you? [Eve Themed]

Left to Right- Pile 1->Pile 3

Introduction

This is a simple reading for anyone who has been messed with for no valid effing reason. This is a darker theme for a tarot reading. Got inspired to post this because i watched Eve the K-drama. If you want to check this reading out, do so.

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Pile 1: Immediate Consequences

Immediately its the Tower. This means those who have opposed you faced a sudden and unexpected downfall. Their attempts to bring chaos into your life backfired, leading to disruption in their own lives. They learned that their actions had consequences that they were not prepared for. They might have tried to win at all costs by undermining you. The two of wands cards has showed up here. They might have succeeded momentarily but immediately, whether you know it or not, they found themselves isolated and are to this very day dealing with an aftermath of their own aggressive actions. The Devil card showed up because this is a dark themed reading. They have this obsession that they can not escape with causing harm. This has only lead them into unhealthy patterns of behavior. They are trapped in this loop of being unable to make decisions for themselves.

Anyways, guys, stay prayed up. Go deeper into your faith. If you do not have a specific faith of sorts try to find something to believe in. Guard your heart. Pray for hope and wellbeing. You deserve a good life, remember that. If you have been praying for good things to come in, remember that Because of your faith it will happen.

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Pile 2: Emotional Impact

The first card that has showed up is the Nine of Swords. So what happened to them after they messed with you? The emotional toll of their actions has weighed heavily on them. They learned that causing harm to others brings with it anxiety, guilt, and sleepless nights. Their conscience is now haunted by the realization of what they’ve done. The have had a major emotional upheaval since the temperance card has showed up reversed. They have to deal with their own beliefs and attitudes. Maybe they had an skewed perspective on you that they made it be known to you more times than necessary. However now that perspective has shifted. They have learnt the futility of all their actions. Now they feel a sense of disconnection overall. Stagnancy seems to be in their lives lately for the long run as the four of swords has shown up.

I don't think i have to give any specific encouraging messages to you guys about this situation since you have got it in you to succeed in life overall. Just remember that God will carry you when you have no strength left.

================================================================================================

Pile 3: Long-term Realizations

The Hanged Man has showed up. When it comes to the Opps of you guys's i see that they have faced a moment of reckoning. This card indicates that they’ve had to confront their own actions and accept responsibility for what they’ve done. They have a different look at your situation with them unlike before. They’ve learned that they cannot escape the consequences of their deeds, and this has led to a significant internal awakening. You might have seen or will see this person taking time off to withdraw often in the coming future as the Hermit card has showed up. This is because they have learnt that acting out of spite towards you was not the best form of action to take. The world card has shown up. In a reading like this the notion that it gives is the realization that you are stating to level up. They’ve come to understand that life is cyclical, and the energy they put out into the world eventually returns to them. They’ve learned about the inevitability of karma and the importance of aligning their actions with more positive intentions.

Just remember that god didn't bring you this far to leave you. You are going to make it, just, trust.

[randomshyperson]

Fluorescent Adolescent - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: Layla's presence brings back some ghosts from your past and for the first time, you want to include Wanda in everything.

Warnings: Typical canon violence, mentions of blood, stitches, and pregnancy nausea, talking about abusive environments (innuendo of different forms of exploration), mild angsty with a bit of comedy as well, some Blackhill drama too | Words: 6.935k

A/N-> This chapter is a bit longer but I tried to put more characters background on it. I know it's late, I've been struggling with my writer's block, but it's finally here. I'm also sorry there's no smut on this one, but the chapter mood was not a sexy one. We will be back to our normal schedule I promise. Also, the extra chapter with their first kiss is almost ready as well! So hopefully, the next update won't take that long.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

“Do you really have to do that?”

The question drew a confused laugh from you. With your hands busy with a first aid kit borrowed from Natasha, you can only offer a look to your girlfriend.

"Yes?"

But Wanda snorted stubbornly, crossing her arms before stopping in the doorway of the bathroom in Black Widow's room, who was standing outside with the rest of the team. You were supposed to go back outside right away before Layla had a nervous breakdown at being left with the entire Avengers team while you grabbed the kit to fix your own reaction to seeing her and ending up hurting her.

"I just don't understand why you have to do the bandage. Can't you ask Nat or any of them?" Wanda insisted, sounding very irritated and you had no idea why.

"Well, Layla only trusts me of all the people present and I'm the one who threw her against a snack machine." You half-heartedly explain the whole thing. "If you'll excuse me, sweetheart."

Wanda gave you the room but did so with a grimace that you would probably try to understand later. She's been acting so weird ever since your partner arrived, but Layla's presence is making you worried enough. You'd talk to Wanda after you understood exactly what the other woman was doing here.

Outside, and in the outer courtyard that was more isolated from the rest of the motel, Layla was sitting at one of the tables with the Avengers doing a poor job of disguising the fact that they were on alert for her. Sitting down, her jacket was laid beside her, and she was wearing a tank top that exposed the redness of her new bruise and made you groan low in guilt. Wanda, who hadn't left your trail since Layla appeared, glared at you as soon as she caught the sound.

For the witch, she didn't see the bruise but the beautiful woman with well-defined muscles, a tight tank top and curls that made her look even more attractive than before. And you, who apparently had a long-term relationship with the curly woman and were friendly enough for her to come looking for you.

You didn't even notice the look Wanda gave you, busy opening the kit and mumbling apologies to Layla in Arabic that made Wanda spend the next few minutes imagining you learning another language just to talk to your friend.

She was so distracted by her own neuroses that she didn't notice Natasha approaching, and leaning on the pillar she was also resting on.

"Wow, if looks could kill..." teased the widow, but Wanda snorted lowly, ignoring the phrase and trying to pretend she wasn't watching you pull whatever piece of glass the machine left behind in Layla's back, while you whispered apologies to her for it. 

Natasha chuckled at the witch's expression and wasn't intimidated by her aggressive attitude. It surprised her that Wanda, a moment later, was the one who started the conversation.

"Do you think they seem close?"

You had just pressed a cotton pad with alcohol on Layla's wound, and because you were sitting next to her, the woman, grunting in pain, instinctively grabbed your thigh. 

Nat raised an eyebrow.

"I bet you ten bucks they've slept together." Replied the widow, and Wanda grunted in disgust before turning away from the scene. Natasha giggled. "Hey, I'm joking."

"Whatever, I'd better get out of here before I blow something up." Muttered the witch in a frown, practically running away from the scene.

Natasha sighed, regretting having taken the provocation too far. She took one last look at you and Layla before turning back to Steve and Sam on the other side of the courtyard.

You were just finishing sewing the few stitches on Layla's shoulder when she called your attention.

"Sorry, I promise I'm almost done-"

"It's not that, يا حلو (sweetie)." She interrupts gently. "I don't think your girlfriend likes me."

You smile, unable to take your eyes off the stitches you're closing. "Don't be silly, Wanda doesn't know you well enough." You retort. " She'll need at least a few days not to like you."

Layla chuckles, pinching you gently for the joke. You finish the stitches next, and as you assess the work to make sure they won't open, she speaks again.

"I've been looking for you."  Layla's tone is a little upset, and it surprises you. You look at her, but she continues to stare at the team from a distance. "I thought you might have been kidnapped. Or even killed. I almost went to Valentina to ask." You swallow, ready to apologize when Layla finally looks at you. "And all this time you've been playing superhero with your new friends?"

"Layla, it's nothing like that."

"So what's it like?" She demands with a hard stare. You sigh, hesitating about taking it all in like that, and Layla studies you intently. When she speaks again, it's in another language that she hopes no prying ears can understand. "هل هي مهمة أخرى؟ (Is it another assignment)?"

You look back at Natasha talking to Sam and of course she would know Arabic, but she didn't really seem to be paying attention to the conversation.

Either way, you face Layla and and denies it with your head. You sigh once more before forcing a smile at her. "I'm not here on business."

Layla doesn't seem to believe your words. "Come on, I'm not going to torment you if your girlfriend asked you to steal something for them." She shrugged. "I even heard that they're being treated like criminals now. Decided to act on their own, huh?"

You don't answer right away. You occupy your hands with the bloodstained cotton and the needle thread, saving what can be reused, like the alcohol, and throwing away the rest.

When you return to the table where Layla is still exchanging hard looks in the direction of the Avengers, you lean over to talk to her.

"Valentina didn't send me here." You say. "Like I said, it's not about work. Me and Wanda, we're together for real."

Despite the tense exchange between her and the rest of the team, excitement shines through her irises and she looks at you with wide, surprised eyes, a smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, you didn't say."

You chuckle shyly, looking away from your colleague. "Shut up."

"No, I mean it." She giggles. "Damn, I think I owe Xu Xialing some money." You frown in confusion, and Layla sighs. "She bet you'd put a ring on it before the end of the year, and here we are."

Your ears heat up, but you roll your eyes. "I can't believe you bet on me."

Layla chuckles, gently bumping her good shoulder against yours. "Come on, what do you expect from the founder of the Golden Daggers? She breathes gambling. You got really drunk after the last championship and started whining about how much you missed your little Sokovian witch. I wasn't expecting to owe Xialing 20,000 Yuan either, but here we are."

It's your turn to laugh, covering your face for a moment. "And how is she? Xu Xialing?"

Layla snorts softly, shrugging. "Honestly, I have no idea. But if the club is still standing, then she must be fine."

"You should visit her."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you." Layla retorts somewhat ironically, and you hesitate, looking away. "What? Why are you acting so weird?"

You chuckled weakly, trying to gather your courage. Finally, you take a deep breath and say. "I'm not going to do these things anymore, Layla. Nothing we did together. Robberies, fights, the club. None of it. I want out."

But it doesn't take Layla by surprise. She remains silent before looking away.

"I guess I expected that."

You frown. "Really?"

Layla chuckles, looking at you again. "Yeah. Since the day you arrived from Italy, acting so... quirky."

"I wouldn't use that word."

"I thought it would be rude to call you a simp." 

You chuckle, shaking your head. Layla laughs too, before leaning her good shoulder against yours. It's an affectionate gesture, which she used to do a lot when you were on long robberies and so exhausted that the world would stop making sense. The touch was a way of anchoring each other back to reality.

"You could have told me." She says gently, even if the words hide a certain disappointment. 

You swallow, looking down at your shoes. "I was afraid, I guess." You mumble, and she frowns in confusion. You sigh sadly. "I'm not good with these things, Layla. You're my work partner. I thought, if I'm not working anymore, I'll lose you. I just... didn't want that. It was easier not saying anything."

Layla reaches over to entwine her arm in yours and take your hand. "You're an idiot."

"Thanks." You mumble, but she chuckles, squeezing your fingers for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." She says and you look at her curiously. She sighs. "For giving you the impression that we were just work colleagues. You're my friend. You've always been my friend."

You smile, ignoring the sudden urge to cry. 

"I'm sorry I didn't call." You mumble. "I didn't want to worry you."

"Nah, it's fine." She assures you with a smile. "It's like Bulgaria all over again. I should have waited for backup, but all I ended up doing was calling you for help. I don't think I'll ever get over the fact that you got me out of that basement wearing the Chief of Government's face." You chuckle nostalgically at the story of what was probably the moment when your friendship and partnership with Layla was settled. 

"You want to get even? Tell Valentina about me." It's supposed to be a joke, but it immediately makes Layla tense up.

She opens her mouth to say something, but suddenly there's a backpack slamming into her lap. 

"Your things are in one piece again." It's Wanda, angry and with red eyes that make Layla frown with some concern. The remnants of her magic leaving the backpack also signal that Wanda has repaired anything broken by the impact earlier. "You can leave now."

You only realized you were still holding Layla's hand because Wanda was looking directly at it. It was your friend who let go first, chuckling weakly at the whole thing while you tried to understand exactly why Wanda seemed about to murder someone.

"Thanks for fixing my stuff, but I still have a few things to discuss with my partner." Layla replies with a shrug, her backpack in her hands. "I'll get something to eat first, I'm starving."

But Wanda steps forward. "There are some great restaurants on the road."

The curly gives a confused snort at the hostility, but you get to your feet before your friend ends up giving a rude answer to a witch who could do a lot worse than push her against a snack machine.

You enter Wanda's field of vision, and much of the fury disappears from her gaze. 

"Hey, can we talk?" You ask, and the witch gives the thief one last angry look before allowing herself to be taken to a far corner of the courtyard. You sigh softly as soon as you're alone with her. "What was that all about, Wanda?"

She crosses her arms, her jaw clenched. It's so unfair that Wanda always finds ways to make herself more attractive. 

"You told me you didn't have any friends, but you seem very close to that woman."

You hesitate, and that doesn't help your situation. Wanda narrows her eyes at you, and you try not to look intimidated under her red irises.

"It's complicated."

" It's better not to be, darling, because if she touches you again I swear I'll-"

"Wow, you're jealous." You interrupt her sentence as you realize it, a laugh escaping you. "Holy shit, you really are."

Wanda doesn't reply, rolling her eyes and looking away, but you stare at her with a certain intensity. 

"No one's ever been jealous of me before." You confess quietly, and despite the color in her cheeks, she looks at you with irritation.

"Stop it." She retorts. "That's not a good thing. You shouldn't try to look on the bright side, I'm not… “ She takes a deep breath, as if trying to calm her nerves. Then, she tries to smile. “I'm just being silly. You should say that."

You chuckle. One of your hands moves up to brush the rebellious strands of hair out of front of her eyes.

"Alright, I'll try. Wanda, you're being silly. There's no reason to be jealous. Better? I kinda sound like those movie characters."

Wanda grunted in frustration, hiding her face in your chest afterward. "It's not fair." She mutters, her voice muffled in your clothes as your hands wrap around her shoulders. "She was all over you, and I can't even be mad at you for being clueless."

You sigh, without breaking the embrace, trying to explain further:

"It was a friendly gesture, I promise. It's nothing like when we hold hands. When Layla and I would go on missions together, sometimes we'd spend so long hiding, rationing food while injured, that we'd start to get a little crazy. The touch would ground us again. She reached out to my hand because I told her I wasn't going to work with her anymore."

Wanda breaks the embrace to look at you. "Because you're staying with me."

You smile and nod. "That's right, darling. Just like I promised."

The witch sighs, sinking her face into your chest again for a long moment. You don't mind and stroke her hair until Wanda ignores the insecurities that have arisen and relies only on you.

She's still hugging you when she mutters: "I'm sorry for snapping at your friend. I'll apologize to her too."

"It's okay, I doubt Layla took it to heart." You mutter, and Wanda breaks the hug to look you in the eye.

"What does she still have to discuss with you?" The witch asked more seriously, with a different kind of concern rather than jealousy now.

You force a smile. "Let's find out." 

The new information you passed on to Layla about running away seemed to have some kind of effect on her because when you and Wanda found her again, she was chatting amiably with the rest of the Avengers. Wanda had the impression that Sam was actually flirting with her and felt some weight leave her shoulders even though you had assured her that there was nothing between you. 

With the most sympathetic exchange between Layla and the rest of the team, she was invited to stay - Of course, she didn't miss the opportunity to make a few jokes on earth mighty heroes having lunch with criminals, but everyone took it as a joke. And shortly after eating, Wanda noticed that the two of you exchanged a look that meant it was time to talk.

She was ready to deal with her own jealous insecurities when you, who had been by her side all lunch, leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"Come on, love, let's go for a walk with Layla." It's an invitation, not just to talk, but to a part of your life that Wanda has never seen. She has to bite the inside of her cheek to control her anxiety, and it helps a little by the look of reassurance that Natasha throws her from across the table.  

Layla, now with the bandage securely sewn up, is wearing a jacket again and dark glasses that make her look too cool even for the fugitive Avengers. 

Wanda wishes she wasn't so nice and clever in her jokes and comments during lunch either, so it would be easier to hate her.

So far, she has only been able to understand exactly why you were friends.

"I gotta catch a bus, come on." Layla says as soon as you're on your feet. There's no bigger goodbye for the Avengers than a nod, and it makes sense since despite the polite exchange, they're not friends and Layla is still on the wanted list.

You keep your hand intertwined with Wanda's, and at a slow pace, you accompany Layla to the nearest bus stop.

"It's quite of sad you couln't get a car, my friend." You tease, earning a short laugh from Layla. Even though you can't see behind her glasses, you're sure she rolled her eyes.

"I couldn't bring my bike straight here from across the globe, and I wasn't going to attract unwanted attention by stealing a new one." She explains casually. "Besides, there's decent public transportation around here." She winks at you and Wanda. "I will survive."

You reach the bus stop on the corner, it's completely empty but that's not atypical for a corner motel in an isolated place.

Wanda decides to sit on one of the benches, and even though you're standing, you don't occupy her view or try to exclude her from the conversation. You lean against one of the railings and cross your arms, offering Wanda a small smile before facing Layla.

"So, Miss El-Faouly, how fucked am I?"

She chuckles, shaking her head.

"I told you, Valentina doesn't know you ran away." She retorts. "Not yet."

You sigh, and Wanda bites the inside of your cheek. She has so many questions, but you think it's best not to interrupt. 

"What does she know?"

Layla shrugs. "She probably thinks you're having another morality crisis." The woman retorts, stealing a few glances down the street. "You've been away before. A few times on vacation, yes? But she'll know what you're up to if you don't come back soon."

You look down to check the watch on your wrist. You laugh humorlessly. "Actually, I've just missed the deadline. It's Tuesday, which means that officially, this is my longest period without contact after a mission. I guess she hadn't come to me yet because what I picked up in Greece arrived in the mail."

Wanda doesn't ask - not about what you were stealing before you joined her. The connection, the freshly healed bullet wound you had when you arrived. She knew you were working. 

Layla steals a glance at the witch before clearing her throat.

"What if... you came back?" Your expression hardens immediately, but Layla clarifies; "Just to talk to Valentina, Y/N."

"No, Layla."

"She'll make things more difficult if she knows you've just left. You know that. If only-"

"It's out of the question."

"God, why are you being so stubborn?" Layla replies a little impatiently, her eyes studying you. "Your superhero girlfriend will be fine for a few days without you!"

"Layla." You cut in more seriously, and the girl snorts angrily but doesn't insist. Exchanging a glance with Wanda, you soften your tone. "I'm not leaving her, Layla. I can't, it's not right. Wanda, she... she's pregnant."

Layla widens her eyes, looking between the two of you in shock. "What? Really? And it's yours?"

You and Wanda choke at the same time. With her ears slightly reddened, she gives your friend a deadly stare. "Of course it is!"

The thief shakes her head quickly. "I didn't mean it like that!" She tries quickly. "I just... I didn't know you could, Y/N."

You sigh wearily. "I can transform into any Caborn-based form and you think I'm unlikely to have children?" 

But Layla rolls her eyes, suddenly a little hesitant. "That's not what I meant either." She mutters. "I just assumed... you couldn't. Not after all they've done to you..."

But you clear your throat, get to your feet and Layla falls silent. Wanda frowns in curiosity at the interaction, but you're delivering something to your friend.

"Here, for Lagaro. For all the trouble." You hand over your watch and Layla grimaces.

"And my trouble?"

You chuckle. "Af if  you weren't dying to see me."

Wanda clears her throat, and you take a step away from Layla before your girlfriend loses her temper again. The curly doesn't notice, busy putting your watch back in her pocket and checking the street again.

"Lagaro will be happy to know you're not dead, Y/N. Not just with the watch." Your friend comments and you nod, moving closer to Wanda to rest one of your arms on her shoulder. You're trying to relax the tension that has arisen there. When Layla looks at you again, her expression is more serious. "Think about what I said. I understand why you can't leave her, I really do. I guess it's the same idea with Marc disappearing to protect me."

You smile. "Marc disappears because he's an idiot, you should have married someone more... present." Layla raises her middle finger at you, but Wanda suddenly feels very silly knowing that all this time, your friend was married.

There's a bus approaching on the corner, Layla sighs as she sees it stop at a red light. She then offers you two a smile.

"Despite the circumstances, I'm really happy for you both." She assures you with sparkling eyes. "Just... be safe, darling. Okay?"

As she hugs you, she whispers something that Wanda doesn't hear and has to ignore the instinct to ask. She doesn't want to pry, but she feels so curious that she almost uses her powers to find out.

Instead, she also says goodbye to Layla and the two of you watch the woman get on the bus and leave.

Once you're alone, you entwine your hands together again and give Wanda a small smile.

"I can almost hear the gears in your mind working, baby." You tell her gently, and Wanda sighs. "You know you can ask me anything, don't you?

She nods, before looking around to see the growing number of lunchtime passers-by. With another sigh, she faces you.

"Let's go back inside."

It's a silent, tense walk back. You can sense that Wanda is nervous, and you fear that she's insecure again, about trusting you, about feeling left out.

The Avengers are no longer outside, whether they're back in their own rooms or out for a walk, you don't need to give any excuses about Layla's quick farewell. 

Wanda enters first, and as you close the door, she crosses her arms and waits in the center of the room.

With a sigh, you speak first. "Come on, darling, ask me anything you want." You try to sound as gentle as you can, yet Wanda seems very nervous.

"I've spent so much time studying you. Your missions, your deeds, your disguises." She begins. "Still, I feel like I don't know anything."

"Well, that's because I'm good at what I do." Wanda looks at you seriously and you sigh, forcing yourself to act more serious about the whole thing. "Sweetheart, you know me. You know me more than anyone else."

You try to touch her cheek, but Wanda pulls away. "You say that, but I don't think it's true." She fights back annoyed. "I didn't even know about Layla. What else are you hiding?"

You frown in surprise at the accusation. But instead of starting a fight, you swallow dry. "I wasn't hiding. This is hard for me. I can't just dump my life on you. Sharing... doesn't come naturally to someone like me."

Wanda looks down, a little uncertain. "I just want you to trust me."

"And I do." You assure her, stepping forward to touch her shoulders. This time, she almost melts into your touch. "Look at me, I've been an wanted criminal for as long as I can remember, but I'm here, in a hotel surrounded by avengers, just to be with you. I want to be with you, no matter the risk, no matter what. Not only do I trust you, but I love you. Do you understand what I'm saying? You not knowing all the details of my past, of my work, doesn't make it any less true."

Wanda takes a deep breath and lets her forehead fall to yours. You stroke her shoulders, thinking about breaking the distance when suddely she moves away.

"You really have to go, don't you?" She asks with tears in her eyes, and you feel your stomach sink. You shake your head immediately, but something in your gaze makes Wanda's tears start to fall.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Y/N."

"I'll find another way." You assure her, but she turns her back, wiping her face and sitting down on the bed. Wanda hugs her own body and you let your arms fall by your sides. Seeing her cry is always the worst, and for a second, you let your anger get the better of you. "What? Do you want me to leave by any chance?"

Wanda lets out a tearful laugh. "Don't do that."

You snort angrily. "I'm telling you that I want to stay, that I am going to stay. And you're crying, as if you're sure I'm going to leave. I don't like being called a liar, Wanda."

She shakes her head. "Stop."

"No, you stop. I'm telling you something, but you're acting as if I'm going to abandon you. As if you were sure. Do you really think so little of me?"

Wanda chokes, raising pleading eyes to you.

"Of course not!" she retorts. "Don't say that."

The seriousness in her gaze makes you feel ashamed that you'd even considered such a thing. You prepare to apologize, but Wanda speaks again.

"It's your thoughts." She mutters, now she's the one who looks ashamed as she gazes at the floor. "Your mind is screaming that. You're so worried, I can easily hear it."

"Wanda, I...

"It's okay." She cuts in with a tearful voice. "I'm not angry, I think I get it. You don't want to put me in danger, but I'd like you to understand that you don't have to worry about it. I can protect us both."

You chuckle weakly, looking down at your feet. "That sounds lovely, but the last time I left you, you ended up in the Raft, darling. I don't want that to happen ever again."

"And it won't."

"You don't know that." You retort, moving closer to kneel in front of her. Your hands search for hers. "I won't leave you again, Wanda. Not like I used to do to get back to work. We're in this together. Can you please believe me?"

Wanda lets go of one of her hands to stroke the loose strands of hair away from your face. "Why is it so hard for you to get away from Valentina?" She asks, and the red irises explain why she can read the insecurities in your mind. You hesitate, but when you make a move to pull away, the grip on your hand tightens. "What's different between escaping her and escaping Hydra?"

But the hesitation in your eyes turned to confusion. "Escape Hydra? Wanda, I've never escaped them."

It was then her turn to be confused. "B-but I thought... your records. You haven't worked with Strucker for years. I assume-"

"That I just left them? Like you did?" You add, suddenly upset. Wanda says nothing and allows you to let go of her hand to sit down next to her on the bed. You sigh before speaking again. "I never ran away from Hydra, Wanda. My program was a success. And because of that fact, Strucker was allowed to command yours." You say, without meeting her gaze, your hands fiddling with the loose threads of your jeans. "Even if he made mistakes, even if volunteers kept dying, he could still be in charge. Because it worked for me, so it would work for others."

"What happened to you?" she risks asking and you sniffle.

"What happens to valuable merchandise, of course." You reply darkly. "I was sold." Wanda chokes softly, but you force a sad smile and keep talking. "I was 10, maybe younger. The program was complete, Strucker decided it was time to show off his new triumph. At his request, I created my first fixed identity at that time, to make it easier to find clients. To have a trademark, I guess. But with each buyer, they wanted something different. The Slayer, Mighty Samuel, Scorpion, Dark Diamond, any weird name they wanted. Any face they needed. For any service they paid for." The way your jaw tenses makes Wanda understand what is hidden between your words. Everything that was left out of the Shield and Avengers files, simply because they didn't know you were all those people.

Wanda reaches for your hand, interlacing your fingers together. "If it's too painful, you don't have to talk about it."

You squeeze back, shaking your head. "No, it's fine. I can talk about it, it's been a while. And Val, hm, she put me in therapy for a while. So I could talk about the program, my past, for her records."

"Tell me about her." Wanda asks because this doesn't just sound like a contractor and employee relationship. You sigh, nodding.

"I was 16 when the CIA caught up with me. It was no challenge, of course. But the agent who found me, Valentina Fontaine, had intel on me. At the time, Hydra and Shield shared the same name, so I couldn't tell who was a friend so easily. But Valentina? Oh, she knew a lot. She didn't care about the coats of arms one would wear, she just had a particular interest in special individuals. But she didn't approve of the way I was being enslaved. Barbaric she called. She charmed me, so, so easily. She was always very good with words. Manipulative. She got me to take her to my owner at the time, said she would give me my freedom." You sighed tiredly. "But when I took her to him, the rest of her team revealed themselves. They killed anyone who tried to fight and imprisoned the rest. My master, my boss." You correct yourself as you feel Wanda complains about the title. "He swore he was going to kill me for the betrayal. So Val shot him in front of me, and said that from then on, I owed her my life."

"You don't owe her anything. You know that, don't you?" Wanda retorts immediately, but you move uncomfortably as if the idea was already craved in your mind, and remind Wanda of how Bucky feels about the Winter Soldier and everything Hydra has put him through.

"I can think about it rationally, but practically? No, it's not that simple." You murmur, adjusting yourself to turn your whole body towards Wanda, your fingers playing with hers. "Valentina didn't use me, not like the others did. She bought me a place, gave me a name." You laugh weakly. "Of course, she couldn't say she'd got me in a dirty shed in Madripoor. No, she had to lie. She let me be Lady Fontaine, a distant relative of hers. She paid me very well for any service. I could travel wherever I wanted, have my own teams. I was free."

"As long as you kept working for her."

You swallow, agreeing. "Yeah, as long as I kept doing the job." You mutter. "But for someone like me, the life I had before, the deal was not bad, not at all. The whole sense of freedom. But then... I met you. Suddenly all those expensive things I could buy, all the adrenaline of a new robbery, everything stopped making sense if I didn't have you by my side.”

Wanda smiles tenderly, leaning in to steal a kiss from you. It's quick, but deep enough to make you sigh against her lips.

"Nothing and no one will ever keep us apart again, detka. I promise." Wanda whispers, her arms going to your shoulders so she can hug you and sit on your lap. You melt into the warm sensation, hugging her back with the same intensity.

It takes you by surprise, of course, and a moment later, Wanda hurries away.

"Is something wrong?" But she's already stumbling out of bed, running for the bathroom. "Wanda?" You barely get to your feet and hear her throwing up. First, your body goes into full alert, and then you sigh and relax as you remember: Pregnant girlfriend.

When you reach the door, it slams shut in your face, still shining with red magic. You chuckle.

"Don't come in here. It's disgusting." Wanda grumbles from inside, but you shake your head in disbelief and open the door, reaching up to hold her hair, calming any protests with a caress on her back as Wanda flushes all her lunch down the toilet. 

"Can I run you a hot bath?" you suggest, still holding her hair. Wanda nods weakly, and you smile briefly.

You walk away to the bathtub while hoping that her state is enough for her not to notice your racing thoughts about keeping a pregnant woman in those conditions. 

-&-

Wanda gets shot in the stomach. You wake up with a jolt.

The motel room is poorly lit, and you realize you've fallen asleep sitting up. Wanda sleeps deeply beside you, and you sigh before leaving the bed.

The bathroom light is the only one on in the room and gives away the previous activities - Wanda's nauseated state for almost the entire night. Perhaps the events were the reason for your nightmares.

Knowing that your girlfriend would easily notice your discomfort and end up waking up due to the nature of her powers, you left the room to get some air, and maybe push those thoughts away.

Given the time of night, the motel was quiet. But the figure smoking on the balcony made you take a deep breath.

"Hi, Nat."

The widow wasn't startled, she'd probably heard you coming out. She mumbled the greeting back, taking a long drag before offering the item to you. Your response was a dismissive nod.

"Sorry about the smoke." She says, and you scratch your eyes for a moment, shrugging in a sign that you weren't really bothered by it. 

The next moment, you ask: "Rough night?"

Natasha gives a small laugh. "You have no idea." She retorts, attracting your curiosity. But the concern in her eyes is for Wanda's safety, she realizes, and quickly clarifies: "Nothing affecting your little witch, relax."

Despite feeling a weight leave your shoulders, you adjust your body towards the widow. "I know we're not friends and that this is a situation of necessity, but I'm grateful for the way you're keeping us safe. If there's anything I can do to help you with your problem, please don't hesitate to ask."

The sincerity of the words surprised her for a moment. And then, after another swallow, Nat laughs lightly and comments: "If you have any solution for a broken heart, I'll take it."

You frown, absorbing her words for a moment. Nat almost immediately looks away, busy smoking as if hoping that the cigarette would take away all the pain she was feeling. Your mind is racing with all the things you've been entrusted with about the widow, be it work-related or the little socializing of the last few months.

You don't have enough to know exactly what Natasha is saying, but it occurs to you that she must really need to speak to someone about it, at least enough to mention it to you.

"What happened?"

The next laugh that escapes her is a sad one. "Nothing you can fix it."

"I wasn't intending to anyway." You respond gently, offering her a smile. "I'm just here to listen. If you need to talk to someone."

"I have people to listen to me, thank you." She snaps back, and you sigh tiredly before stepping away from the edge.

You nod and retort; "All right, Romanoff, sorry for intruding." And you turn away, heading for the stairs. 

But from the balcony, Nat only lets you go down two steps before saying; "I was engaged. Past tense." And you raise a frown in surprise at her, only for Nat to sigh, looking like she's going to burst into tears at any moment. "Like I said, it's nothing you can help me with."

But you rest your waist on the railing and keep looking up. "I'm sorry, the Captain is an asshole-"

"What?" Nat cuts you off with a grimace. "I wasn't talking about Steve!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I assumed you two-" But Nat bursts into laughter, and you shut up. It's better that she's laughing than crying anyway. 

Wiping away tears of laughter, she shakes her head. "I understand why Wanda likes you. Your cluelessness is hilarious."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Nat chuckles briefly, taking one last drag before putting out her cigarette. She rests her elbows on the edge and looks down at you.

"Agent Hill was my fiancée." She explains, more gently than before. "We had a plan. One that didn't involve me switching sides and ending up fleeing across Europe."

You offer Nat a look of understanding. She sighs, looking away so you don't see her tears.

"Let me guess, Miss Hill believes you prioritized the Avengers over the life you planned together?"

Nat chuckles humorlessly, humming in agreement. She looks at you again with watery eyes. "Don't you think she's right?"

You sigh. "I think things are more complicated than that."

"They certainly are." Nat mutters tiredly. She swallows dryly, pushing her own emotions away before looking at you with a certain determination. It's going to be about you now. "How long are you going to keep this up, Y/N?"

It's your turn to sigh and cross your arms. Your gaze wanders away. Natasha decides to press.

"There are hundreds of bounties on you." She says. "You've annoyed too many people."

"I know." 

"And Wanda needs to see a doctor-"

"Natalia." You cut her off, and her given name catches her off guard. She falls silent, staring at you intently. You sigh. “"I'll go where Wanda goes. No more leaving. I'm tired of running away."

Natasha remains quiet and thoughtful for a long moment. When she suddenly laughs dryly and offers you the cigarette again, you think it's best to accept.

"I think I just got Maria's point." She mumbles in annoyance, and you're a little taken aback by the tears in her eyes. But you try to take a drag on the cigarette, and start coughing, and it works to make Nat laugh and help you instead of crying. She takes the cigarette back, and gives you one last pat on the back, her hand staying in place instead of moving away. "That girl loves you with all her heart, Y/N. She'll follow you if you ask her to, so I beg you, make your decisions with your head, not your heart. Don't put her in danger that you can't protect her from."

You look at Nat. "Do you think that's what you're doing for Maria? Protecting her?"

"This isn't about Maria and me."

But you pull away from Nat's touch, looking at her hard. "I think it is." You insist seriously. "I can't protect Wanda from anything, and I don't need to. She's infinitely more powerful than I am. And I certainly won't be plotting decisions without her. If she decides to leave with me, that's her choice. Not any of yours, and maybe that's the problem with the Avengers, huh? You have a bad habit of putting your members in no-win situations."

Nat forces a smile. "Yes, we're the ones who are wrong not to want Wanda running around with a thief." She ironizes it, and you swallow, your gaze tired and disappointed. Nat is upset, and well, you're the easiest target here. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. "Excuse me, for not wanting her in Madripoor, surrounded by the Chinese Mob!" 

You sniffle lightly, shaking your head. "Do you know who's in Madripoor, Natalia? Your old colleague, Sharon Carter. The one who sacrificed her career for what you and Steve did. The one who was abandoned by you two without hesitation. Just like Clint did it, for whom Wanda's twin brother died and for whom she accepted this position. He abandoned her without looking back. Because that's what the Avengers do for each other, isn't it?" you retort angrily. "But I am the villain. I'm the one who stays and takes care of Wanda no matter what and makes her my priority, and I'm still the wrong one. Even though I'm not the one who let her end up in a fucking straitjacket, locked up like an animal!"

You don't realize you're screaming, but for a whole moment, all you can see is that damn newspaper photo of how Wanda looked, how she was captured. Nat's cheeks are wet, but she doesn't lose her posture.

You chuckle humorlessly. "You've got a damn nerve acting like you're better than me, Romanoff. Especially you."

"Don't go there." She warns with a dangerous look, but you shake your head.

"What would be the point?" You retort. "I'm over the past, but I can't say the same for you. You're pushing Agent Hill away because you're afraid of who you were, you're afraid that anger is still there. You're not giving Maria the choice to love you completely. And I'm not going to make the same mistake with Wanda."

With one last hard look at Nat, you turn to leave. Deciding that you need to take a walk and calm your nerves before going back to your room.

[theincognitomoth]

Wild Side

Pairing: Mr. Wolf x Fem!Reader (Stablished relationship)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5731

Warnings: Rough sex, mild language, bitting, scratch,ing knotting, praise kink, male!dom, fem!sub, first person POV.

Sinopsys: During a mission gone wrong, Mr. Wolf goes on a wild frenzy and ends up hurting his girlfriend. Out of guilt, he isolates himself in a dirty apartment, all the while his sweetheart is determined to prove he has nothing to feel Sorry for.

Since the Night Howlers' incident, Wolf refused to come out of his room. He also refused to let anyone else in, except for Snake, and he refused, above all else, to see me- And that stung far more than the bite mark shaped like his teeth in my forearm as I applied the flower scented infection cream.

Three months ago Diane came with a mission for us. It was simple at first: find a couple of missing citizens. But soon the conspiracy web spiraled so further down that mind controlled guinea pigs and a butt shaped meteorite sounded sane in the same sentence. 

Those people were targets of a cult- The Naturalists, they called themselves. They believed that the root of suffering came from the modern world. A normal group with this belief might have organized a hike or camping trip but, crazy bastards that they were, thought themselves justified to take people off the streets and inject them with a brain altering drug: The Night Howlers.

That cursed little purple capsule was the reason my boyfriend refused to see me, even after two weeks of the case closed.

During a chase he was shot with the substance. Even now my stomach ran cold when I remembered the look in his eyes- Desperate at first, and then feral mindlessness. He chased me prey, my heart pounded in my ears, all my blood going to my legs telling me to run, run, run. It was still a blurry memory, the way his fangs buried on my skin. It was sheer luck that saved me that day, and I dreaded imagining the other outcome. But whatever horrors my mind came up with, I knew Wolf's was much worse, leaving him to rot in his little den of misery. 

With a heavy sigh, I put on my clothes and marched out of the apartment, standing in front of Wolf's door yet again.

“Moe?” I knocked and waited for a response that never came.

This everlasting silence would drive me mad.

“I know you can't- won't see me right now, but could you at least say something so I know you're not dead and rotting on the other side of that damn door?” 

My words were harsh, I knew, and the corridor echoes made sure to slap me in the face with them. For his sake I kept those words in. I knew he was suffering, I tried to be patient, but the sting with each day of deathly silence left a bitter taste in my mouth and I had to let it out before it made me sick.

“I'm getting tired of this- I know you feel bad for what happened, but I swear, I'd rather get bitten again than for you to play dead. Please…”

I was certain my plea would fall on deaf ears until the door locks creaked. My heart was beating in my ears like drums, my eyes burnt from not blinking. The door opened to reveal a dark room, cold and smelling like an old pantry. Snake stood on the other side, looking at me with a frown deeper than normal. He was much better at hiding  his worry than me. 

“Go easy on him,” He said, slipping out of the door and holding it open.

“Is it too bad?” I whispered.

“Would be easier if he wasn't such a drama queen.” 

I forced out a chuckle.

“Thanks.”

“Don't mention it, just… Get him out of that damn apartment.”

A difficult mission, one I didn't know if I was up to, yet had to grab this precious small chance.

I walked into Wolf's apartment and closed the door behind me.

Some people prefer winter nights over nice summer days, but the state of his apartment was absurd. I adjusted my sleeves to cover my hands as the AC turned a city apart into a tundra, its blue glowing numbers being the only light source letting me see broad shapes. Wolf sat in the corner of the couch, wrapped around an old blanket with his face hidden in it. How much time did he spent day after day like this?

One of many food packages scrunching under my foot as I made my way towards him. His ears perked up for a second before laying flat against his head again.

“Moe…” He flinched.

I sat on the couch, arms length from him.

“Can you look at me?” The knots in my chest tightened further as the seconds stretched without a response. “... I miss you.”

Finally, thank Heavens, finally he looked up at me, those big sad eyes resembling an abandoned puppy. He stared for a short while, before sifting his focus to my forearm, covered by the long sleeve.

“Does it still hurt?” He asked, voice quiet.

“No.”

“Did you get an infection?”

“I didn't.”

“Scar?” 

“None.”

“Good.” He let out a shaky breath. “I've missed you too.”

There was a glimmer of the ‘him’ from before the incident when he smiled at me- My old Moe. But I blinked and it was gone. I reached for his hands into the blanket cocoon, but he winched away, covering it up with a chuckle.

“I haven't trimmed my claws in a while.”

“Since when do you trim them?”

“I- uh, started recently.”

“Moe…”

He shook his head, leaning further away from me with a frown.

“Stop. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He struggled to find words. I knew that angry look, but it wasn't aimed at anyone.

“Like you're the one who hurt me and not the other way around.”

When he stood up, so did I, keeping a distance as I followed him to the kitchen, littered with full trash bags that didn’t smell, for they were full of plastic packages and cans instead of real food.

“Come on, it wasn't your fault.”

“Yeah, there are blood stains on my shirt that say otherwise.”

He grabbed a kettle and put it on the stove to boil and took one cup of instant noodles from the almost empty cabinet. Shrimp flavored, Moe's least favorite.

“You weren't in control, they shot you with a Night Howler.”

“And I went after you instead of the cultist, how do you explain that?”

Over the weeks, that question plagued me too and I came up with a few theories. Maybe he chose to chase something that smelled familiar, or his animal brain saw me as easier prey, since the cultist was bigger. Whichever reason, not a part of me believed he acted from malice.

“Look, you don't need to try and justify or rationalize what happened there. I don't blame you one bit.”

“You should.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

I tried to remain level headed, but I didn't know what else to say to make him see reason.

“Why? Why the hell are you so angry with yourself when it was the crazy cultist that drugged you?”

“Because I liked it!”

The kettle whistle was the only sound in the room as I was left speechless, mouth agape and dry. I only realized how tense my shoulders were when they dropped heavy on my sides.

“...What?”

Wolf let out a deep sigh, turning off the stove and leaning against the counter. He wasn't looking at me.

“I liked it- not hurting you, not ever. But when that guy shot me with the Night Howler…” He rubbed the spot on his neck where the drug hit him. “It was like- like I had been wearing a tie squeezing my neck the whole time and the Night Howler cut it loose.”

His eyes sparkled with something familiar, that same shine from when he went through a heist plan or talked about a new driving maneuver he pulled. But as soon as that spark came, he met my eyes and it was gone.

“You can't be serious,” I shook my head. “Did you actually buy into that naturalist looney's idea?”

“It's not- look, I'm not saying I want to run around like a rabies crazed dog.”

“I sure hope so.”

It wasn’t the answer he hoped for, I knew, but it wasn’t what I expected him to say either. Something about those eyes begged for me to understand. For all that it’s worth it, I tried.

Wolf took a moment, pouring the hot water on his noodles.

“Wish I could explain it better. I haven't been able to sleep right after what I did to you, but at the same time, when I close my eyes and remember the way it felt to run around without a thought in my head, it was… free, and real and…”

“Wild?” 

He opened the lid of his instant noodles with a small chuckle, poking at the shrimp pieces with a plastic fork.

“Yeah, wild.” He took a sniff of the thing, face twisting in disgust, then put it down on the sink. 

Silence weighed on the apartment while I tried to make sense of his words. The way he spoke wasn't much different from those cultists and I couldn't use the excuse of indoctrination on him. The great leaders didn't talk Moe into buying their idea, he felt it on his skin, so much so that even the bite incident didn't stop him from missing that brief moment of brain off wildness.

Maybe the naturalists weren't so off. 

“Would you do it again?”

“The night howler? Nah, too risky.”

“But you miss the feeling.”

It wasn't a question, and the way he lowered his ears showed he knew it. I tried to relate in a way, imagining what it would be like if I could never again eat my favorite food, run in the rain or go downhill on a bike. What would be like if I had a snippet of the highest high of my life only to know I could never experience it again? What would it be like if I had a tie squeezing around my neck, only loose enough to suck in shallow breaths?

Miserable, that's what it would be like.

“Moe…” My heels clicked on the silent apartment as I approached and touched his shoulder. “I can't in my right mind say you should do drugs,” I said with a straight face and he chuckled. “But I don't want you to feel like you're suffocated either. Maybe we can find a middle ground, loosening the tie without ripping it off.”

His ears perked up a little and he looked at me with those puppy eyes that got my heart in a claw-like grip.

“Really? After what I did, would you still want to help?”

“Of course I do. What happened wasn't your fault, and I don't want you to feel suffocated.” I reached for the fluff on his cheek and Moe leaned against my hand. “I love you.”

I barely finished my sentence and his arms wrapped around me, squeezing my waist, firm and gentle, even if I wouldn’t mind having the air squeezed out of me. His head rested against my shoulder and his tail wagged fast.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

The familiar weight of his head on my shoulder melted the tension I walked with for the past weeks. I missed the way his fur tickled my cheek and the way his tail brushed against my legs. If helping him tap into a semi-wild state was what it took to keep this, then becoming a goddamn adrenaline chaser suddenly climbed its way up my list of priorities.

Minutes passed in our much needed embrace before I gathered the willpower to pull away, earning a small whine from him.

“Okay, Moe. If I'm going to help you, we are doing this right.” I walked up to his fridge where a little white board with a couple of markers was glued to the door and picked the red one, writing ‘Mr. Wolf's wild list’ on the top. “Let's start with the ideas.”

Wolf crossed his arms and leaned against the counter with a smirk.

“Not wasting any time, I see.”

“The sooner we figure out what can help you, the sooner we can implement it. So come on, ideas.”

He closed his eyes with a hum, scratching his chin.

“Pulling out a stunt with the car always gets me going.”

“Dangerous driving, then?”

“It's only dangerous if you don't know what you're doing, sweetheart.”

I stared at him, unamused for a good three seconds before sighing.

“Fine.” Against better judgment, I wrote ‘crazy driving’ on the board. “But only on empty roads.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about hiking? It's in nature.”

“Eh, I don't know. Not really a nature guy myself.”

“Really, Moe? No nature in the wild list?”

Wolf chuckled, shaking his head.

“Well, when you put it like that… Maybe I can give running around the mud and get eaten by mosquitos a go.”

“What a lovely way to put it, babe.” I wrote 'touching grass’ on the list with a green marker, drawing a little mosquito beside it.

“Okay, what else?”

Doodling a couple of stars, I waited for new ideas. When he told me nothing for a good thirty seconds, I turned my full attention to him; his tail wagged a little bit, but hung low, the clawed finger tapped against the counter in steady clicks.

 “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, I know the room is pretty dark but I'm not blind.” I placed my hands over his bouncing leg and tapping finger, the movement stopping. “You can tell me.”

He took his sweet time with it, eyes running through the corners of the room and looking away after the split moments he met mine.

“Promise you won't get mad.”

“Okay… I won't get mad.”

“And promise you'll say no if you're not absolute, one hundred percent sure of it.”

“You’re making it sound like you want to commit a crime.”

“Not far off my alley. But no, it's not a crime, it's… Not gonna lie, it's pretty damn embarrassing.”

Embarrassing. This was the man who played the suave thief like second nature, so when he looked at me like a punny teenager about to ask the cheerleader to the dance, scared of my rejection, what else could I do other than swoon?

“I never knew you had shame buried under that white suit of yours.”

I waited for his smart little remark so I could answer with a comeback heating up on the tip of my tongue. It felt nice, familiar, our back and forth.

“Yeah, that's what you do to me.”

My witty come answer turned to ash in my mouth, leaving my tongue heavy; And while my head scrambled for coherence and my knees for composure, Wolf chuckled and put his hands on my hips,thumbs running up and down sending a wave up my back and making my hairs prickle.

“I want you,” He whispered. “When you walked in, your smell almost made me forget why I hid away to begin with.”

The Moe I knew was a flirt, yes, but in a way which felt like he practiced his lines in front of a mirror. A great actor, no doubt, but still an actor. This was different, it was raw. He spoke without a filter and it made my back arch. I squeezed his shoulder, crumpling the fabric of his messy shirt.

“I want you too,” I leaned closer, breath fanning over the little furs on his muzzle. “I missed you, Moe. I missed you way too much.”

Harsher than what I was used to, his hands squeezed the flesh of my hips, and I could feel the tip of his sharp claws through my jeans.

“Sweetheart, I need you to be real with me now and only say yes if you really mean it.” A gentle hand tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want you to be part of my little list.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I want to try something different, a little more… loose.”

The only thing stopping the heat that ran up my spine from getting to my head was the ever present suspicion.

“Loose?”

“Yeah, you said I should loosen the tie,” His grip on my waist tightened and he pulled me close enough to feel his hot breath brushing my nose. “And I want to loosen it with you.”

Little impressions I had from the time we spent entangled in the sheets suddenly became much clearer. The way he held me by the waist, kissed me, touched me- Aside from being fantastic and melting the tension from every muscle, left me with this itch in the back of my mind. Be it a scowl on his brow or hands that squeezed me too tight just to let go two seconds after, what he did to me never felt complete. Now I had the confirmation to my suspicions: He held back every time.

Morbid curiosity allied with the growing fire in my stomach, making me wonder how much I could take if he didn't.

“I want to try that out too.”

“Really?” His smile widened and he gave my hips a small squeeze. “It's not just because of me, right? Because if it is-”

I cut his rambling by the root with a peck to the lips.

“I'm a big girl, Moe. I know what I want and I mean what I'm saying. And what I want is for you to take off that leash and burn it-”

In a blink, he had me on top of the balcony, body pressed flushed together as he invaded my mouth in a kiss that left me light headed.

He took his lips away from mine and before I fully made sense of what was happening, began kissing my neck.

“Just tell me to stop and I will,” he said between little kisses and small nibbles. “And if I hurt you, punch me in the throat.”

“Hm, yeah, I can… I can manage that.” 

Pushing words out became quite the task when he was making me gasp and sending  shivers through my nerves. I held onto his head, looking down as he worked his magic on my skin, tucking my shirt's collar down to give the same treatment as my neck. While Wolf busied himself with that, I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling a hardening volume against my inner thigh.

“Already?” I smiled, scratching behind his ear.

“Hm, just missed you so much.”

His hands moved from my hips to my thighs, squeezing them like stress toys while leaving an open mouth kiss on my cleavage. I tugged at his head, and when a breathy moan left my lips, he growled against my skin.

“How much do you like this shirt?”

The sudden question snapped my attention back to him. He looked at my long sleeve shirt as if it was his worst enemy.

“What?”

He squeezed my thighs a little harder, claws poking my flesh.

“The shirt. Is it a favorite of yours?” 

“Why- no, not really.”

“Good.”

The fire that ran through my blood when he tore up the shirt with his teeth and claws was enough to make my face melt off. My mouth hung open with no words uttered as he kissed between my breasts, before pulling away to stare at my lace bra.

“Hm… Not this one.” Much gentler, nimble fingers unclasped the hooks behind me, letting the bra slide through my shoulders while he looked me in the eye with a cheeky grin. “This one I like.”

“...I'll keep that in mind.”

“But I like these even more.”

His attention focused on my breasts. He took one in his hand and kneaded it gently, before making me groan with a harsh squeeze. His grip loosened the same moment and he kissed the finger prints on my skin.

“Too much?”

“No, no, just a little sensitive. It’s been a while.”

“It sure has,” Another gentle kiss traced the reddish marks, trailing up to my pulse. “We can do it the nicer way, you know.”

There he went, offering me an out again when my desires were set in forgetting all restraint. In response my eager hands worked around his shirt, soft fabric hiding even softer fur beneath it. Maybe I was the wild animal between us.

The rumbling of his laugh vibrated against my neck.

“Or not.”

His hands returned to my tender breasts, previous gentleness gone as he squeezed one while feeling the other’s weight in his palm. The pain didn’t phase me. Sure, there was a sharp moment of agony, but in less than a second it became laced with strange pleasure, before fully dissolving into it, like a cold shower after a full day walking in the sun. 

My own hands stayed occupied, tracing my fingers over his spine, glazing my nails against his skin, and fully sunk into him when Moe took one of my nipples into his mouth, threatening to bite it down. He didn’t, I knew he wouldn’t go that far, but the possibility was enough to get me shivering.

He nibbled, sucked and played with my hardened buds until I was pulling at the hairs on his neck with enough strength to rip them, and by the end even the breeze from the air conditioner made me whine. He moved back a little, a gleam of smugness in his eyes as he looked over his work of turning my flesh into a personal canvas with purple and red marks. Those eyes that never looked more dangerous met mine and I almost came undone right then and here.

“Awn sweetheart, you’re crying?”

Overwhelmed tears stung my eyes, my entire body, especially my face, feverish.

“N-No. I’m tearing up, it’s different.”

“Well, un-lucky for you, you’re way too pretty like this.” He held my chin a little too forceful, making me stare at the predatory gaze of his. “Now I wonder what’s like if I do make you cry.”

My gasp got cut short when Wolf threw me over his shoulder like a fat shack of dollar bills and walked towards his bedroom, making me yelp when he squeezed my butt followed by a less than gentle bite.

I tried to look at his face while balancing myself.

“When did you get this strong?” 

“Always have been, just needed the right motivation.”

The bedroom was as dark as the rest of the apartment, his familiar scent all around when he threw me in the bed, right in the center of a nest-like pile of blankets and kissing down my lips.

“Comfortable?”

“Yeah, I could fall asleep right now.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, one finger pulling my pants.

“You can try, don’t think you’ll be able to. But if you get close to falling asleep…” With a swift movement, he lowered my pants to my thighs. “I’ll just have to get you on the edge again.” He slid my pants down all the way and kissed under my belly button. “...And again…” His lips stopped at the hem of my panties, fingers coming up to touch the soaked spot between my legs. “... And again.”

Threat or promise, he already left unable to catch my breath. My watery eyes admired the sight as much as the blurriness allowed it, my hips buckling against his fingers while the bastard grinned.

“Hell, Moe. You want me to beg?”

“I wasn’t thinking about it, but now that you offered…”

Leaning back on the pillows with one arm over my face, I groaned.

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Hey, don’t be mad. I’m just messing with ya, beautiful.” 

“Oh, aren’t you a jokester? This is torture-”

A jolt went up my spine when he dragged his fingers along my slick, teasing me through the panties’ fabric. Wolf’s breath hovered over my over sensitive clit before he gave it the much needed attention with an open mouth kiss that if on the lips would leave anyone drenched. I held myself back from locking his head with my legs when he moved away to slice my panties off, my fully nude form barely affected by the cold room because of how he made me burn.

Moe kissed me, the softer and passionate approach meeting the pace of his fingers teasing my entrance and smearing my clit with my own wetness. For a moment he got me thinking he had given up on our little experiment, but horny little me simply walked into a trap, only noticing when he grabbed my hips and flipped me into my stomach. I tried to use my elbows for support, but Moe pushed me back down and lifted my hips, leaning over my body, pressing himself flushed against me and whispering.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to have you like this, bent over letting me see everything. And you look so pretty. Always so, so pretty for me, sweetheart.” 

His husky whisper tickled the back of my ear and I couldn’t blame myself from the moan he dragged out of me. I needed him now, before this drove me to wild madness. And maybe that’s what Wolf was trying to do- To turn me into a crazed and unleashed beast. By the way I pressed myself against him, without a single rational thought, he more than succeeded.

“Just fuck me,” I demanded.

Growling, he dug his hands into my hips, grinding the rock hard cock against me, staining his pants with my slick.

“Last chance to back down.” The sound of his voice was followed by the unzipping of his pants.

“I think I’ll combust if I do.”

Wolf chuckled, one of his hands spreading my lips for him while the other guided his thick length to my entrance and made me gasp and grab at the sheets. It took a total of three slower thrusts before he picked up a crushing, brain melting pace and made me forget the time of the day, the place and my name. He held me by the back of the neck, and by the stings of pain coming from my back and shoulder, I could guess how many marks I would have by the end of this- and God, I didn’t care. If anything, it ripped more unrestrained whimpers and cries from my throat.

“You sound almost as amazing as you feel,” he said, voice breathless against the back of my ear, his arms wrapping around my waist and holding me like a vice. “Damn, sweetheart, so pretty, so good for me, my good girl.”

“N-Not fair, that’s my- Oh, God!- that’s my line.”

The unforgiving pace grew even more savage, cutting out my moans with each thrust.

“But you like it too, don’t you? Screaming so much my ears are ringing.”

“Sorry-”

“Don’t be.”

Although he reached so, so fucking deep into me, that wasn’t the end of it. No, not with Moe like this, not with the swollen base as a delicious reminder, slapping against me everytime he moved.

His groans grew more fanatic, he barely pulled out, rutting against me right before his knot slipped inside in a stretch that might be painful if I wasn’t soaking wet.

Hissing, Moe held me flushed against his chest and my hands held onto his forearms for any semblance of structure. He could only rut against my heat and I could only moan at the over stimulation, so close from being a mess in his arms.

“Mine,” He groaned, nibbling my ear. “My perfect girl, taking me so well.”

“M-Moe…” My body twitched, tears rolled down my eyes into the sweat stained sheets. 

Wolf licked a red mark on the crook of my neck.

“Hm, I knew you would look even more beautiful crying for me.” His voice came out in huff and puffs of hot air on my already burning skin. His rutting became relentless, the tip of his cock bullying my cervix, trying to invade everything, tear me apart, merge into me, and by God, I would let him.

It didn’t take long for me to feel the familiar euphoria rush through my veins and tie knots- how ironic- around my stomach. Barely mustering the strength to moan and cry, pitiful wails echoed back to me, and my unleashed lover didn’t trail much better, his own voice hoarse and desperate.

My climax didn’t knock at the door- no, no, no, it came bursting through it, making a mess and all around as I clawed at Wolf’s forearms like a beast and was left shaking and gasping for air amidst low whines. He kept his pace, mindlessly chasing his own high, making my overstimulation all the more wrecking.

Two more minutes of harsh slapping sounds went by before the sights of his orgasm finally appeared to relieve my shaking body. Claws dug in my hips with a possessive grip, his jaw was so tense I could hear the sharp teeth grind against each other and for a moment it seemed he wanted to merge into me before his grip loosed and I felt the familiar warmth floating my walls and leaving no empty creeks.

Fast movements died down, his head resting on my shoulder followed by a heavy and content sigh .I could finally catch my breath.

“Are you okay?” Wolf asked, kissing the marking on the back of my neck.

In my head I answered ‘yes, fantastic’, but babbles left my mouth instead of words- At least he found it funny. 

Gently, he flipped me on my back and laid me down, kissing my temple and pulling my putty self closer.

“Fantastic as always, sweetheart. I didn’t think you could get any better and you still impressed me.”

I met his eyes, a smile playing on my lips. His fur never looked more messy, inviting me to pet and try to even it out. I did so, and Moe leaned against my hand, but that sweet, blissed out smile died the moment he laid eyes on the bite mark on my forearm. My heart squeezed for him as he took my arm like it was made of glass and stared at the red teeth scars.

“Moe, it’s not-” 

“I know.” He kissed the bite mark, lips lighter than butterfly wings. “But I’m still so sorry. Even after this, you’re still doing so much for me, I don’t know how to make it up to you.”

My hand scratched behind his flat ear.

“Well, if you’re so keen about it, I would love it if you finally got out of the apartment.”

He scoffed, but I kept going.

“I’m serious. I know you feel guilty, but locking yourself up as if you committed a crime is not doing any good to anyone. Hell, if I was the one who went crazy and bit you, it wouldn’t be an issue. You might even be laughing about it.”

Proving my point, he let out a breathy chuckle.

“See?” Despite the wobbly limbs, I shifted on the bed, bringing his head to my chest and placing one leg over his waist. “You’re not bad, Wolf.”

Hesitant hands moved up my back, holding me closer, and my worries were eased once I heard his tail wagging against the bed.

“Thank you, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Of course you’re right.” He nuzzled my neck and I could feel his smile. “And you’re right about leaving the apartment too. My nose is starting to itch and I would rather eat cardboard than those shrimp flavored noodles again.” 

“How about we go for a walk and get a salad after?”

He looked at me like a little kid who got told no at the toy store.

“Fine, a walk and ice cream. But after that we're deep cleaning this place.”

“Hmm, yes. You’re definitely too good for me.”

Wagging his tail, he leaned in and kissed the purple bruise on my neck. I knew his self blame wasn’t gone, hope as I might, it might never fully be, but we would take it one step at a time. And besides, exploring this new, unrestrained side of him- of us- wasn’t bad at all.

TAGLIST: @freeholeformuzan @xxladysquishyxx

[wallflowerimagines]

Bruno Madrigal Crush Headcannons

This man has spent a good portion of his life watching his family through walls, hoping and wishing and yearning for their happiness, even if it doesn't involve him.

Meaning? He has a staring problem.

Bruno actually caught feelings for you from a distance. You're just...so nice. Nonjudgmental. It's what drew his gaze to you in the first place, how everyone felt safe to be themselves around you. He didn't even need to interact with you to see how wonderful you are!

...Which is a problem.

Bruno refuses to approach you-- he can't. It's just not possible.

But he will watch you.

He watches the way you smile and laugh, he's hypnotized by the way your hair bounces when you walk, he wants to take his thumb and rub away the little furrow between your eyebrows that shows up when you're reading intently, kiss your lips every time you bite them--

(Or is that too much, hahahahahahahah-- Kill him, someone anyone please please please---)

Bruno is so, so awkward. While Tio Bruno is funny and adoring with his family, as well as hilariously sassy when he wants to be, people outside his social circle are Not Trusted with anything but The Madrigal Manners. Years of being accused of malicious intent makes it difficult for him to be fully himself in public, and the decades of isolation made him forget all the important social cues.

But you? He's exponentially worse around you.

The few times you've actually spoken with Bruno, he was both Supremely Polite and a Tongue Tied Disaster.

He comments on easy, obvious topics, like the weather or the weekend, but he talks so quickly he can't breathe and starts laughing at things that aren't even jokes. He'll open doors for you or pull out your chair, but will trip over the door frame or accidentally tip the chair over and scramble to pick it back up.

You make him a mess. You whip his thoughts so frothy he can barely remember what he's said, let alone focus on putting up a wall. It's incredibly endearing, and it makes his crush on you supremely obvious.

He's had one or two childhood crushes, but it has been literal decades since the last time his heart beat this fast. It was so bad that this idiot (affectionate) literally thought he was having a heart attack the first time you made eye contact with him--Fully clutching at his chest and panicking before darting away to get some help.

There is a certain amount of guilt he feels about his crush. After all, he's not exactly prime husband material. Bruno is acutely aware of how old he is, and there aren't many love stories out there for people his age(a crime imo). "The fifty year old uncle" is usually the creepy antagonist in drama, never a romantic hero. Besides that, there's the matter of his reputation. Even with the rest of the Madrigal family working to repair it, there are still parts of the Encanto that don't like the weird fortune-telling hermit that LIVED IN THE WALLS OF HIS OWN HOUSE FOR SOME REASON.

(....There is also a little bit of guilt of the Catholic variety. His thoughts about you can get pretty spicy late at night. After one of those he can't bring himself to even look at you.)

Bruno won't confess his feelings to you if he can help it. He doesn't think he deserves romantic love, especially not from someone as wonderful as you, and the last thing he wants to do is burden you with his feelings. He's been enough of a burden already. He will try to get over you before he even considers hinting that he likes you.

Unfortunately, Bruno's resolve isn't as strong as he wishes it was.

Every time he tries to suppress his feelings, someone will simply say your name in passing and it's enough to fully divert his train of thought back to how kind you are, how funny, how understanding....

Fantasies have always been a huge coping mechanism for him, but lately, baby you are the star of every. single. one.

Some are realistic: He pictures the two of you hand in hand, walking to the market, and he's somehow managed to be funny and charming enough to make you smile just for him.

Or maybe you have a suitcase packed and ready to leave the village--it's raining of course--and Bruno will run out to you, pull you into a tight embrace and kiss the idea right out of you.

He could live out his childhood dream and be the director of a theater troupe, while you, his newest actor shaking with nerves, ask him to run through your lines together. He agrees, comforts you through your stage fright, and as your practice ends the chemistry between you both is electric enough to crackle. He just knows you'll do great things together...

Bruno is his best self in every fantasy, of course, witty and charming and without a single grain of sand in his hair. Often, in private, he has his rats reenact his favorite daydreams. (Whichever Rat that plays you gets extra treats. It's the most coveted role.)

...Eventually, though, his wistful sighing and blatant eavesdropping on any conversation involving you start to get on his Family's nerves. They've been supportive of his crush--why wouldn't they be, they've met you, you're great!-- but it's also obvious Bruno is going to need a helping hand.

Mirabel in particular gets it in her head to play Cupid after she sees how happy her Tio gets talking about you. She gathers up the youngest generation of Madrigals, and all of them begin conspiring ways to push Bruno into as many situations with you as possible.

Isabella invites you over to help garden, while Luisa gets her Tio to come help her organize where the pots should go. Antonio begs you to play hide and seek with him and his animal friends, and it's not like Bruno can resist his nephew's puppy eyes either. Mirabel brings Bruno along to tell stories to some of the local village kids, and Camilo makes sure you're nearby to see his Tio in his element.

Bruno immediately picks up on the fact that his nieces and nephews are trying to meddle, but he can't find it in himself to get upset about it.

Besides, it's a little hard to think lately when so many of your pretty smiles seem to be directed at him...

...Maybe he has more of a chance than he thought? 💞

[getvalentined]

FF7 Fandom PSA

This is not a callout post, this is a warning about a genuinely dangerous abuser who uses fandom spaces to acquire victims.

Apparently my abusive ex is ingratiating himself into fandom spaces again, so if you're in the FF7 fandom please keep an eye out for someone calling himself Pix or Pixeled.

The details of what he did to me specifically are available in a post from almost exactly two years ago, readable here. Other people have shared their own stories, but I don't have the energy to dig up all of them. Trigger warnings for gaslighting, emotional abuse, violent threats, forced isolation, manipulation, and more that I'm definitely missing.

Known usernames:

Instagram: midgardsomrnights, pixeledartsy, okgoosefus, pixeledpalace

AO3: pixeled, pixeledxxx

tiktok: pixrexpen, gaywrathlet

FFXIV: sarielperedhil (on Brynhildr)

ko-fi: pixrexpalace

Other: pix pendragon, pixeled pendragon, pixrexpendragon

Some of these are current, most of them are not; he's no longer active here or on Twitter that I'm aware of, so I'm not referring to his usernames there, but he uses some combination of parts from these for his usernames everywhere so they followed the same theme.

This is not "fandom drama," this is a sincere warning to anyone in his orbit to be careful and be safe. Please love yourself more than he wants you to.

With that in mind, there are more personal details under the cut, discussing the fallout of going public with his abuse and more of his behavior; no screenshots on these because it's years in the past, not all of the related accounts and spaces still exist, and back when I was first gathering evidence I had to stop before it lapsed into the territory of emotional self-harm.

Same trigger warnings as above, plus racism, (implied) sexual exploitation, sexual manipulation, and discussion of Body Dysmorphic Disorder.

I want to be very clear that I was not the first person to go through this, I was just the first to go public afterward. I have lost relationships with people I thought were friends by doing so, and actually been referred to as abusive in response to my initial thread on Twitter letting people know what he'd done. I've had people who used his treatment of me as an excuse to join in with hurting me go on to co-opt my abuse to make themselves look like victims, claiming that we were best friends until he drove us apart—or worse, to use him as a complete stand-in for their own behavior, implying or outright stating that he forced them to isolate me from friends and fandom activities and treat me like shit, all while these people have me blocked on every possible platform where I could reconnect with them.

Pix was the Bad Guy of early 2022 on FF7 Twitter, and while he deserved the title, not everything everyone said about him was true. Not everything everyone said about me was true, either, but people tend to take anything connected to fandom as "drama," even when it involves literal abuse.

One thing I never told anyone except my closest friends is that Pix drove me to the verge of suicide multiple times. He put up videos insulting me to be "funny" and got friends laughing along, when I asked him to stop teasing me all the time he exploded and said that he was allowed to express himself however he wanted and if I had a problem then I should break up with him so he could finally kill himself guilt-free, he told me that he wasn't going to placate me anymore by saying "I love you," he told me in public spaces to shut up because I didn't know anything. He used racist slurs against Asian people behind my back and told everyone who called him on it that I'd told him it was all right, leading to a continuing belief among some circles that I have some deep internalized racism toward my own fucking ethnicity.

He told me that his mother saw me as a whore and a homewrecker, because I'd seduced him away from his boyfriend of eight years—in spite of the fact that I told him outright I did not want a romantic relationship with him because he was already in one, and I wouldn't be party to cheating. When I went public with what he did, he claimed that I pressured him into a romantic relationship, neglecting to mention that he'd been pushing for one almost since we met and that I'd shot him down because he was already with someone else. He said that I'd forced him to break up with his boyfriend, and seemed to be implying that I'd somehow sexually exploited him because I'm a cisgender lesbian and he identified as an aro/ace trans man at the time we broke up. When we got together, he identified as a bisexual nonbinary person.

To be completely honest, though, his orientation and gender identity doesn't even fucking matter with regards to the implication that I exploited him because we never had any form of sexual contact—unless you want to count RP, which I don't, and if I did I would be calling him a cheater because I was not his only RP partner.

To be completely clear, we were in a long distance relationship, thousands of miles apart, and we had no sexual contact. We never sexted, we never had phone sex, we never even exchanged dirty pictures. Our relationship had no sexual element whatsoever. He eventually told me in no uncertain terms that if/when we got married, he wasn't going to sleep with me because he didn't have a sex drive anymore due to trauma, and that since I loved him so much I'd have to be happy with that.

He would remind me of this when my Body Dysmorphic Disorder began to relapse constantly from the amount of stress he had me under, because my experience with the condition is rooted on my lack of physical femininity and leads me to see myself as completely sexually repulsive. When I was triggered and trying to untie the knot in my chest that made me want to throw up at the thought of my own body, he would remind me that I didn't have to worry about being too ugly for sex with him, because he was never going to fuck me anyway. That it didn't matter if I was disgusting, because he found all bodies disgusting, so really I was lucky to have him. He didn't even care that I was disabled and that my arms and legs are too long, that my joints slip out of place all the time, that the way I have to move sometimes to keep from hurting makes me look "weird and stupid." I was so lucky to have him, because even though he was very aware of all those things, he didn't actually care. He wasn't going to fuck me anyway.

The last Christmas card he sent me literally had the words "You deserve a high-five!" printed on the front, and on the reverse he'd written something along the lines of "okay but you know I'd be sure to miss and slap you in the face, sorry not sorry."

He made my life hell in every possible way, and people said it was drama because we met through fandom—and that I deserved it, honestly, since I was so fucked up and he was such a good person for even caring about me in the first place. I deserved it, people said, since I turned around and stabbed him in the back after he'd done so much for me for the years we were together. It was just fandom drama, they said, and I was just thriving off the social capital it allegedly earned me.

And now he's back and making new friends, but it's fine because this all happened years ago, and everyone with a brain should be able to see that it's just fandom drama. But it's not. It never was. Don't let him convince you otherwise.

[mahou-furbies]

Closing thoughts on Magia Record Scene 0

Scene 0 has finally ended! Or the translation I've been following has been completed. To those who don't know, it tells the Madoka Magica story, but the point of view of a new character Mabayu, who for some reason keeps her memory through Homura's time loops and can move while time is stopped. And since we all know how the Madoka plot goes (right?), the main story here is the mystery of Mabayu having lost her memory of why she is already a magical girl.

(spoilers)

First things first, the whole premise conflicts with what I think is one of the core points of the Madoka Magica drama, that is, how Homura had to do her thankless time looping job all alone and became increasingly isolated because of it. But here it's "revealed" that she had a buddy all along, with whom she became very close friends and who is eventually cast as the reason why Homura is able to keep going on in the first place. The whole thing considerably waters down her devotion to Madoka, when most of the story is about how she bonds with Mabayu. And then there's also the inherent awkwardness of inserting a brand new nobody to the story you already know, to whom the characters you've known for a decade become the side cast.

Then again, that is the premise, so you just have to make peace with it if you want to enjoy the story at all. And in fact I like Mabayu a lot, so I'll take it, though I'll have to consider everything a non-canon super AU (even within the canon's actual AUs). There was also the other problem though that some of the stuff was kind of fanservicey, and not in the horny way but in the superficial "let's put the whole cast in maid outfits for no particular reason" way. But I was a fan of some of it, like Nagisa being un-witched in one time loop, so fine.

I don't know how much this is about what the story actually is and how much should be blamed on me not paying enough attention, but in the end I think there's still plenty of holes in the story. Like we learned how Mabayu became a magical girl and what how her personal magic power works, but I didn't understand how her memory doesn't reset through the time loops and why she can move when Homura stops the time. Also the way she erased other characters' memories was inconsistent, she had to cut Sayaka's memory all over again in each loop, but when she cut Mami's, the effect was carried to the next loop. And I guess it was explained how the final resolution worked (duh) but I don't think I quite understood.

That's a lot of complaints but I did have a decent time with this actually, and that is because I really like Mabayu. She's the kind of character I'd really like to see more in magical girl stories: low energy, kind of lazy and self serving, passive and loner but not in an edgy way, and it was interesting to see her grow to be more heroic. She also has a lovely voice, and it turns out the same actor also did Ha-chan whose voice is also great. She also had really good dynamics with the main cast, and I especially like growing friendship between her and Homura, they had good banter with Homura being super serious all the time, and their growing friendship was touching. And she had some interesting stuff going on with Sayaka and Mami too.

And while I complained about the whole premise being about rewriting canon, I also think there were some worthwhile additions. For example in this version Mami used to recruit other girls to become magical girls with Mabayu, and the guilt from that is a major reason for her breakdown when she learns the truth about witches. On one hand I prefer the version of a seemingly strong character actually being weak and emotionally unstable, like she's been through a lot and doesn't need a more noble reason for her breakdown, but I think the Scene 0 version is also interesting.

Ultimately the ending left me somewhat sour with how inconclusive it was. Mabayu cut herself from everyone's memories (including her own), but it feels like there's a ton of stuff about her that's not resolved. Like she's still able to move during Homura's stopped time and doesn't understand why, she's still a magical girl even if she doesn't remember it, becoming friends with Mami again doesn't lead much anywhere if she's going to die to Charlotte in a few days… If the idea is the bittersweet knowledge that Mabayu made a difference in the Homura-Madoka story but nobody can remember it, it doesn't work for me since I didn't really get what her contribution was. Or I guess it was pretty clear how important Mabayu's presence was for keeping Homura sane through all the failed time loops but that was like my number one issue with the premise, so maybe I'm just incompatible with the whole story to begin with.

Still I had a good time following this as the translations came out, I was eager to see where the plot would go and watching a short video every few days didn't require that much from me. Though I do think the story was too long for its own good and especially the early loops could have been condensed.

[goodwhump-temp]

Jake Green Whump | Jericho (2006)

IM BACK. 1x01 Pilot - Emotional, car crash, leg injury, bleeding, limp, weak, ambulancia 1x02 Fallout - Climbing/leg pain cont., limp, shot at 1x03 Four Horsemen - Limp cont. 1x04 Walls of Jericho - Slight limp 1x05 Federal Response - Confronted by Eric, mysterious knowledge, begins to talk about past 1x06 9:02 - Mitch lore, angry, knocked unconscious, punched, thrown, held back 1x07 Long Live the Mayor - Jonah lore (🥵), manhandled 1x08 Rogue River - Shot at, flashbanged, held at gunpoint, Iraq lore, hospital invaded 1x09 Crossroads - Spaced out (beginning), shot at, suicidal 1x12 The Day Before - Flashback; Afghan/Iraq/Contractor lore, wanted, friend dying, 1x13 Black Jack - Voluntold LOL (04:50), shoved, gut-punched w/ stick, pain 1x14 Heart of Winter - Truck flipped, leg pinned, bleeding, pain, slowly freezing to death, hypothermia, tired x3, comforted, guilt, confesses PTSD, emotional pain (+dad bonding), crying 1x15 Semper Fidelis - Hypothermia recovery, limp, betrayed, confrontation, held at gunpoint, knocked unconscious 1x16 Winter's End - Limping 1x17 One Man's Terrorist - Held at gunpoint, hostage 1x18 A.K.A. - Pinned, held at gunpoint 1x19 Casus Belli - Angry, worried, arrested 1x20 One if by Land - Hostage, interrogated, knife put to throat, shot at/surrounded 1x22 Why We Fight - (Flashback; POS/family drama), shot at, sobbing x2

2x01 Reconstruction - Manhandled, angry 2x02 Condor - Tackled, scared, angry 2x03 Jennings & Rall - Aggravated, more Jake lore! 2x06 Sedition - Surrenders, manhandled, [tortured; restrained, isolated, sleep deprived, heat exhaustion, dehydrated], coughing, hallucinating, weak, jolted awake

[abla-soso]

"Anatomy of a fall" is a good movie that I would normally forget about after the second viewing. But I think I keep coming back to this movie because the reactions to it are fascinating to me.

One of the main themes of this movie was that you can't psychoanalyze and frame people's entire personhood and lives based on dissecting a very specific set of events and circumstances. Especially not in a sensationalized case in a court drama.

And what do American feminists do? Isolate a single moment from all contexts and present it as definitive proof of women being the eternal victims in any broken marriage.

Amazing.

The "you're not a victim and I'm blameless" speech became a viral clip on social media, so much so that it made me curious enough to watch the movie. Imagine my surprise when I saw the context of that scene and realized that moment in the fight happened right after the husband accused the wife of cheating and she scoffed it off and tried to guilt trip him for still feeling upset it and about her shameless lack of guilt.

He was being irrationally petty and unfairly judgmental during the fight (most people are when they're mentally ill with intense unresolved issues) and she defended herself against his bullshit and expressed some legitimate grievances, but this was not all. In that "epic feminist monologue" she was insisting he wasn't a victim because she was also trying to absolve herself of all guilt of any of her wrongdoings.

And when she couldn't, she reacted in a physically abusive way. And when she needed to save herself in the trail? She insisted that he was a victim after all, lol. But not her own victim, of course not, but a victim of his own sever mental health issues that has nothing to do with how she treated him.

Yet when the defense wraps up their summary of her husband's psyche and spells out the suicide motive you can hear her tell him: "that's not what he was like!". She had enough honesty with herself in that moment to admit that her husband's personhood and motives can't be summed up by that fight.

It's pointless to make a complete and final assessment of either her or her husband's character based on that emotionally charged fight alone.

The movie's main motif is: "fixation kills understanding". It’s not unusual for married couples to feel like they have a PhD in their partner's psyche, and to some level, they kinda do. They probably know each other better than any other person on Earth – but it’s still not enough, and never will be, to sum up an entire person. And the gaps that are left to fill are up to anybody’s guessing. You can drill down into a relationship to a microscopic level — trying to analyze every comment, every small action, every rumour — but that the more you try to take in, the less you know.

But American feminists would rather feel vindicated about their own ideological obsessions than acknowledge any nuances or moral complexity in any story about gender dynamics, broken marriages, and mental health.

It's amazing to me how they talk about weak married men with such vicious contempt. As if they're morally deficient for failing to live to their "manly duties". As if only married women are allowed to react to mental illness and unresolved issues in petty, unfair, irrational ways.

Perhaps the movie was trying to tell you guys something and you completely missed it.

[cyberclouddream]

The 6th House and Bad Fortunes

In Hellenistic astrology the 6th house is referred to the “place of bad fortune”, connected to disease and decline in vitality. Here it’s more associated with hardships and illness than daily routines and activities. This is due to it being twelve houses away from the 7th house, which would mean imprisonment to significant commitments, like our health and vitality.

It represents the challenges that arise when our creative and romantic aspirations meet reality. By addressing the issues related to health, routines, and service we can transform the challenges here into opportunities.

Aries Rising

- tedious jobs that demand grinding

- may clean up after others or work beneath your skill level

- burnout because of perfectionism

- overworking with little recognition

- hypochondria; frequent doctor’s visits or checkups

- nitpicky with coworkers

Remedies: balanced diet; prioritize and delegate tasks; activities that promote self-improvement; face issues head-on; eliminate distractions; learn to say no

Taurus Rising

- passive-aggressive co-workers

- people-pleasing overload

- headaches or skin problems

- jobs that lack beauty or creativity

- indecisive career path

- superficial relationship with colleagues

Remedies: make workplace aesthetically pleasing; distinguish supportive relationships from toxic ones; take proactive steps to manage burnout; stay physically active

Gemini Rising

- jobs full of manipulation, power struggles, or drama

- unhealthy or overwhelming intensity at work

- anxiety, digestive issues, or fatigue

- strong desire for control over work environment and tasks clash

- help others with hidden agendas

Remedies: stop avoiding hard tasks; let go of grudges; find a life outside of work; channel rage into work; get regular check ups

Cancer Rising

- dissatisfaction in routines

- overcommitting to responsibilities

- lack of exercise, weight issues, digestive problems

- conflict with traditions or authority

- too much optimism

Remedies: learn to focus on tasks; be wary of escapism; be honest about what you can handle; establish flexible routines

Leo Rising

- rigid rules or strict hierarchies in workplace

- relentless pursuit for success

- issues with bones, joints, or skin

- missing opportunities for joy

- feelings of isolation and loneliness

Remedies: drop guilt about labor and delegate tasks; don’t take work too seriously; reassess goals if feeling stagnant or underappreciated

Virgo Rising

- jobs that feel misaligned with values or ideals

- alienation at work

- inconsistent health practices; issues with circulation, nervous system, or sudden changes in well-being

- rebel against routine tasks or authority figures

- difficulties with structure or traditional methods

Remedies: make decisions instead of overthinking; engage more with colleagues; address and change when there’s discomfort; stop idealizing job or coworkers; embrace structure

Libra Rising

- neglect important tasks and responsibilities

- elusive health issues; frustration when seeking health solutions; often feel tired without clear reason

- sensitivity leads to overwhelming emotional labor

- lack of structure in workplace

- romanticizing hardships, sacrifices, or struggles

Remedies: stop dreaming and start doing; get real about health issues; don’t overindulge in pleasures; don’t let feelings dictate work ethic; confront conversations and conflicts head-on

Scorpio Rising

- rush into tasks without proper planning

- take on too much workload at once

- headaches, high blood pressure, or injuries over overexertion

- struggles with monotonous tasks

- inconsistent motivations

Remedies: think before you speak to not burn bridges; learn to collaborate; own your mistakes; get organized

Sagittarius Rising

- stuck in unfulfilling jobs that lack progress

- overindulge in comforts; overeating or neglecting physical activity

- resistance to new opportunities and changes at work

- jobs that offer little financial security

- neglecting mental health

Remedies: don’t cling to routines or methods; avoid complacency; don’t overindulge in comfort foods or luxuries; don’t expect people to read your mind

Capricorn Rising

- erratic work performance

- overwhelmed by too many projects

- headaches, digestive issues, or anxiety

- resist structured routines

- prioritize mental stimulation over exercise or proper nutrition

Remedies: don’t take on too many tasks at once; confront workplace drama; avoid procrastination; make time for resting well; think before you speak to avoid misunderstandings

Aquarius Rising

- difficulty separating feelings from workplace

- fluctuating health issues, like digestive problems or issues linked to their emotional state

- prioritizing helping others over their own needs

- home dynamics effect work

- lack of professional boundaries

Remedies: don’t play victim; set emotional boundaries at work; don’t beat around the bush; avoid overindulgence; be realistic about your limitations

Pisces Rising

- snuggle with recognition at work

- desires for leadership clash with authority

- neglect health for status and appearance

- difficulties maintaining routine

- dramatic responses to setbacks, like unnecessary stress

Remedies: quit trying to be the center of attention at work; limit drama and theatrics; don’t let your pride blind from constructive criticism; be a team player; avoid overcommitting because of your passion;