#this is one of the posts that if they don't get attention i will start crying

[mxrcielaguito]

Oh boi, I've been wanting to write Elliott x Farmer for a while so here we go:

Based off one of the comments of the original post

"I would suggest we make time for a little 'rendezvous' in my old cabin... But I'm afraid it's become rather... Musty... In my absence" Elliott says. I'd like to think he's being playful but I can't really tell. His words are mischievous but his eyes seem melancholic. I mean, well, he writes angsty stuff all the time, why would this be any different, he loves feeling melancholic. He's an overemotional drama queen, and that's pretty much why I fell for him in the first place. But something's off today.

I look at him, up and down. Wouldn't be the first time we escape a social gathering and make time for ourselves. I work relentlessly. He writes relentlessly. Our kids mess around the house relentlessly, too.

"Why not?" I suggest. "It's not like anyone's paying attention."

His green eyes widen, his face blushes for just an instant and I recognize his look. He bites his lower lip, grabs my arm and pulls me into the cabin so quickly I can't even react. As soon as I step into the cabin I understand what he meant by "musty". The air feels heavy, humid, and the wood is starting to decay. His old piano is still there; withering away.

He locks the door behind us and I can already feel his heavy breath. I can't help but find it cute. It's been three years and he still gets all hot and bothered. He's turning his back on me, his hand still on the door knob.

"Elliott? Are you all right?" I ask.

"I have really neglected this place, haven't I..." He murmurs. "It's- it's not romantic at all, I-..."

"Love, it's okay, I don't mind" I try to reassure him, rubbing his back. Something's wrong but I'm not can't put my finger on it. "It's been quite some time since the last time you came here, huh."

Elliott laughs nervously and forces himself to let go of the door knob. He turns around and looks at his cabin, his eyes scanning every corner.

"I really used to live like this, didn't I?"

"I didn't know this place brought you bad memories", I say, my voice soft, almost a whisper. I know we don't talk much; my words are usually rather scarce, I can't remember the last time we sat and spoke to each other. I'd rather listen, but Elliott doesn't speak too much, either.

He runs a hand through his copper hair.

"Once upon a time, there lived a man by the sea..." Elliott speaks quietly, absently. "He dreamed of fame and greatness; he dreamed of people remembering his name. However, that day never came, and his little cabin by the sea, he let it rot away."

I frown, trying to make a meaning off of this.

"My father bought this cabin a long time ago, we used to have our vacation here, when I was a kid. With time I guess we all forgot about it, then I remembered it when he kicked me out."

My eyes widen.

"He... Kicked you out? Why am I learning about this just now?!"

"Well, he wasn't happy when I said I wasn't pursuing a career in the family business." Elliott runs his hand through the dusty desk, then fidgets around with an old inkwell. The ink has been dry for a very long time. "I didn't have much money. I was running out when I met you."

"That part, I remember, yeah", I reply.

"It's not that this cabin holds bad memories, as you said. It just a reminder of almost everything that hasn't worked out in my life. All the scrapped manuscripts. All the arguing with my father. All the times I stayed up late, trying to come up with the perfect plot, the perfect words, the perfect... Everything" he closes his eyes and sighs. I look at him and take his hand in mine. I love it: it's so soft. "And then, one day, you showed up and took care of that old farm nobody cared about. And you took care of me..."

He leans his head over mine. His hair tickles my nose, and it smells like pomegranate shampoo.

"I can take care of this place, too" I suggest, trying to cheer him up. "Just like I did with the farm."

"No, no. This place is mine to bear, not yours. However I would like to take your example and make this old place something worth the effort. Something out kids will be happy inheriting."

I look up at him and smile.

"Yeah? You wanna do that?"

Elliott smiles and nods. I feel his hand make its way through my eternally sore back to my waist. I rest my hand on his, fidgeting with his wedding ring.

"It's not that musty", I tease, after a very long silence. "The bed's still in good shape."

When you're just trying to make some goddamn soup but Elliott wants to have sex in his mouldy ass cabin.

[bunnys-kisses]

hiii ! how are u? I would like to order a pastry braid and english muffin with a side of tonic water, w max verstappen

thank uu x

bakery menu!!

want to suggest your own order? then hit up the menu! there are tons of things to choose from. i am working through the suggestions after a slight break so i will be posting them more often. updates usually go up fridays to sundays at 6pm est! i hope you enjoy this little fic! this is set in the team principal au (which usually happens with a max age gap fic) but it's not connected to the rest of the tp au that i have going, just it's own little thing! <3

pastry braid: "your job is to make me cum. now get to work." + english muffin: "aw, is someone crying?" + tonic water: age gap served by max verstappen (formula one)

tags: smut/pwp, tp!max, driver!reader, age gap (20s/40s), crying (kink), rough sex, power dynamics, doggy style, max has high expectations for his driver, degrading language, possessive behavior

insatiable. that was what max would describe himself in relation to you. what he was when you were near. he was hungry for trophies, wins and most of all your sweet cunt. max had expected to leave the track years ago, but how could he? he had a re purpose, to make you a champion.

but even wills made of iron couldn't deny your appeal. how you looked in your fire proofs, the look you got when you lost of received a plenty, and the opposite look you gave when you tasted sweet victory. if max was the lion, then you were the wolf.

regardless, max still held power over you and you when he held your cheeks in one hand to face him, a domineering look in his eyes. he held you like he owned you, and with all those zeroes on your contract. he did in a way.

his arms wrapped around you and held you to his chest. in a moment of private after the grand prix, he held you the way a lover would. he couldn't help but take a quick grab of your breasts. you wined in response and max simply smiled.

"not the best," he said in your ear, "i counter five errors in your driving, on top of letting the williams' driver over take you for ten laps. i'm sorry, my price, you know what that means."

you nodded, "yes, sir. i understand." then shifted a little in his touch which only made him hold onto you tighter. you swallowed, even though you won the trophy, tonight wouldn't be about celebrating. it would be about punishment.

max's hotel room was next to yours, and you barely closed the door before he was trying to get your t-shirt off. large hands groped your breasts over your bras and he groaned into your neck.

"fuck, baby." he said, tension in his voice, "you could've been celebrating with the team, but instead you have to deal with the punishments." he pulled your bra over your head and grabbed your chest.

max liked your breasts, he loved how easy the skin bruised when he gave them too much attention. you ended up on the bed with max stripping you of your calvin klein jeans. he saw your exposed thighs, and the tattoo on your hip. lucky number thirty-three. max's old number.

he did have a claim over you, the kind of claim that not even a scandal could break. oh the media circus that would ensue if people found out about you two. if they found out you were fucking max, then max guessed he'd just have to marry you. not a big deal, he had a ring picked out and everything.

"you know what we have to do tonight. your job is to make me cum. now get to work." and soon your panties were pulled off and left on the edge of the bed. he started to strip himself down.

while your face in the pillows and your couldn't see your team principal, you could feel him. the soft of imposing power that left you feeling needy.

"i expect the best from you. you know that. i don't deal with those who aren't willing to push themselves to the best they can be. i know, you can easily be the best. but, i guess there is still a lot i have to teach you." max wasn't like this with any other driver, even if you retired tomorrow, you'd still be his favourite.

he admired your beauty with strokes of his cock. usually there would be a spanking, teasing or maybe a little bondage, but max was still running off the high of racing and he wanted you now. he sank his cock into you like it was his god given right. he was near double your age, but he still fucked you until you were an overstimulated mess.

you whined from the intrusion, you felt sharp pain. max wasn't small by any means. he was rather bulky, the kind of cock that bullied your insides. you felt a shiver of pain as you moaned into the sheets.

"aw, is someone crying?" his words were patronizing as he moved against you quickly. his stamina was still high, he fucked with the force of a bull that often left you feeling bruised inside and out. he had that ability over you. you leave you completely and utterly at his his mercy.

you swallowed, "not crying, sir." and arched your back, but max had you pressed against the bed. his pace only picked up as he rutted up against you.

the thing about max was that he was dominate. and you loved the power he had over you. he easily took you apart and let him make you feel like jelly as he fucked into you.

"you look better on my cock than in a car." he remarked, "better on your knees than the podium." he added as pleasure clouded his head. his thoughts were about how good you felt. how you clenched around him when he hit your g-spot.

you whined and sniffled a little from the ache. you weren't crying. rather whining from the intense feeling. the ache and the pleasure left your nerves feeling tense. you gasped when he hit a particular spot.

max loved when you whined, especially when there were sweet little tears in your ears. his little wolf all teary-eyed because he made you feel too good.

he pace continued and you felt on cloud nine, you sniffles continued and you were left needy for more. it was always more, you always needed more of him. something that max was more than happy to deliver on. how could he deny his driver. even when he thought you did poorly, he still had a soft spot for you.

"mmm, see you're good like this. i could just eat you alive. take you piece by piece. all mind." he chuckled with warmth in his gut, "next time you'll listen to me over the radio and in the garage." he arched your back further and made you feel the zap of pleasure up your spine and in your core.

having your team principal's support meant the world to you, even when you were panting and near crying under him. the pleasure climbed through your body and you felt the surge of want through you.

"please, sir." you arched your back further and your pulse picked up. face buried in the soft pillows while you let your boss fuck you with a heated drive.

he grasped the back of your head and pulled your head further into the pillows and his pace quickened, "you're forgiven. let this not be a lesson you forget." and continued to move against you, fucking you right into the mattress with heavy thrusts of his hips.

he yanked your hair a little and it amde you moan. only he could get away with something like that. yank, bite, slip, no other man could get away with that. but you gave max everything.

the movements continued and you felt amazing. the type of amazing that allowed you to feel to close to orgasm. you tensed up and felt the sweet release as you came. you needed max, you needed him in a way you could never need another.

your boss, your lover, your everything.

his movements left you needy and it wasn't long before you moaned loudly once more around his cock. the pleasure continued to wash through you like heavy waves. and it only made your lover fuck you quicker. max moved against you, near bounced you up and down on his cock. his noises were tense before he slammed every inch into you and finished.

"oh fuck." he groaned.

you gasped and weakly held onto the covers. you couldn't think of anything else besides max. max, max, max, he was the only thought in your head as he slowed to a stop. and then laid on top of you. he rutted his still hard cock into you which made you groan.

"i think there are a few more lessons i could teach you tonight before i really wear you out." those words were said like a promise <3

[takemeinyrarmy]

i know people are not reading the posts of Palestinian's pleading for your attention I know for some they might even think they are repetitive or tiring but every single one of these people are risking their lives to come ask for your help that every single life is valuable and every person is a universe and I am begging you if you see this please donate what you can and help share these fundraisers as if you were doing it for your own loved ones please don't ignore this!

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These people have reached out in asks as of 22/11/24. All of this are vetted and/or donation protected!

[pomefioredove]

@hxney-lemcn said more cater fics and I am here 2 deliver ✌️✌️

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ friends kiss, too

type of post: short fic characters: cater additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, friends 2 lovers ON TOP! a little making out

Every time Cater drags you through one of these things, you ask yourself why you let him, and every time, the answer is the same: he's your best friend, and you love him.

It's the very same reason you let him spam you with texts and annoy you with surprise selfies. It's the reason you rarely hang out with anyone else, because you know it makes him jealous, though he'd never admit that.

It's the reason you're here, now, awake in your room well past curfew.

Despite the threat of a Housewarden who would flay you alive if he caught you and Cater sneaking around in the dead hours of the night, your bestie was absolutely insistent on this all-nighter.

It's a trend on Magicam, he said, and he had, of course, pouted and whined like a sad puppy until you agreed to "support him" by keeping him awake.

By two in the morning, you were more bored than tired.

"Pass. Pass," Cater says, swiping through dating profiles on his phone. "Hm... no, pass."

You sigh and slump against the headboard of your bed. "You've said that word so many times, it doesn't sound real anymore,"

"Ughhhh. Is Sage's Island where hotties go to die? I just want a cute holiday romance!" he exclaims. "Think of the pics!"

You roll your eyes. You'd heard that exact string of words probably ten times in the past few days.

"You can't date someone just for couple photo ops,"

Cater pouts. "Oh, yes I can. I specify "nothing serious" on my profile! It's not like I'm lying!"

Another eye-roll. He's technically right, as always, which just makes you even more annoyed.

But you don't want to get into an argument about the morality of flings right now.

"And it's cold out. Who am I gonna hold when it gets even colder? It's cuffing season, hon,"

Something about the way he says that bothers you. You try not to think about it so much.

"Well, you'll always have me," you tease.

Cater giggles, and sets his phone down on the bed, a subtle way of showing you that you have his full attention now. "Oh? What's this? Sounds like you're offering,"

"Not what I meant," you counter. "I'm your bestie, not your bae."

"Boooo. What are you, a nun? Friends cuddle all the time,"

Again, he's right. He likes being right, and you can see that on him now, too. He has that competitive glow on his face.

You smile. "Sure, sure, but we all know that cuddling isn't what you're looking for,"

Cater gasps, feigning offense with a hand placed delicately over his heart. "I am not that easy! I'm starting to think you really do want me all to yourself,"

If anything, it's the other way around. Since befriending him at the start of the school year, you'd always had the feeling that he took up all your time on purpose. But you don't say that.

"Besides," he goes on. "There are a lot of things that besties can do that are perfectly friend-like. The segregation of romantic and platonic is a totally oppressive amatonormative structure, anyway."

You roll your eyes. "You have got to stop reading those infographics. Do you even know what any of those words mean?"

"Not the point! I'm saying that there's lots of cute stuff we can do while remaining besties,"

He's very enthusiastic about this. You can't tell if it's his penchant for being right, or something more.

"Pfft. Okay. So, what, friends can kiss?"

"Obviously," Cater crosses his arms over his chest, giving you that smug look of his. "Friends kiss, too."

"Then prove it,"

The words that had you had been holding in the back of your mouth for the past few minutes escape before your brain can stop them.

Even Cater, who's never surprised, pales a little.

Your mouth opens, then closes, then opens, again without your thoughts offering any support.

"I didn't mean-"

"Okay,"

You blink. Something hot and cold at the same time runs through your body- adrenaline, anxiety, maybe it's just your own blood heating up at the way Cater leans closer, cupping your face in his hand, his fingers curled under your jaw and thumb gently brushing against your cheek.

His hands are kinda sweaty. You don't really mind, and even if you did, it wouldn't have mattered, because his lips are now sweetly pressing against yours.

You fit together quite nicely. As if he was just meant to kiss you.

It's hard not to think about everything all at once; his warm hand moving to cup your chin and hold you close to him, his hair brushing against your face, the way his lips still linger with spice from whatever he'd eaten earlier...

It's not perfect. But it's him, which is close enough.

Cater pulls away, his breath dancing across your lips, but he gives you no time to recover before he's closer, kissing you again with a sort of heat that matched the taste of his mouth.

He holds your face in both hands, shamelessly pinning you against the headboard and sitting in your lap as if he belonged there, always.

Minutes go by. Maybe hours. You wouldn't have noticed, or cared, either way. When you finally part from one another, it's felt like years.

You feel like an entirely different person. As if the world had ended and begun again in the six minutes you had been kissing him.

Cater sits atop your thighs, panting, his face redder than his Housewarden's hair, that of which would have flayed you both if he were to catch you like this.

Luckily, it's just the two of you.

"See?" Cater finally mumbles, dismounting you and scooting back to where he left his phone. "Platonic."

You're too breathless to argue.

You suppose you'll let him be right again.

[pixiedust111]

I think it's hard to get attention with art only without making drama these days. So, I started posting time lapse videos of my drawings on YouTube and had to be satisfied with a few views. However, I think it's better platform than Tumblr. Sometimes, it's the fandom issue, if it's too small, it's even harder to get reach. I don't know anything about hazbin hotel by the way. I haven't watched it, I'm speaking from my perspective. But I saw your OCs, especially vidette, she was cute! Maybe, you could try joining specific communities, or discord servers? Interact with other artists? But one thing I understood, it takes time. Like, a lot of time, to grow your community. Even the pro artists took really long before they hit the ground they are at now. People like it or not, keep drawing. Focus on improving rather than seeking external validation. 'Like' is just a number, today it's 10, tomorrow 100!

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 20. A Painful Touch (Garrick)

Summary: Dahlia now with a new signet must learn to navigate day to day life with it. Something she might come to learn the hard way after a certain interaction. A/N: As we do not know Garrick's signet yet, I am basing his signet off a heavily assumed theory. I didn't want to wait till January/February next year to post this, so if Onyx Storm contradicts the below, were just going to pretend it didn't so we don't wreck the next few parts.

Warnings: There are some mentions of a pass incident, as well as a confronting moment. It is nothing major, but I'd rather mention this before posting the below just incase. Potential for a signet spoiler depending on Onyx Storm content. Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

Challenges had finally started back up after a few months off. It was easy to tell everyone was excited for it, itching to get back to it. Sure we’d had training sessions here and there, but nothing beat the thrill of challenges.

I’d been tempted to take Dahlia up on the challenge she’d laid out for me, clearly thinking I wouldn’t follow through. One day I would. But today wasn’t that day. Mainly because she was nowhere to be seen. I hadn’t caught a glimpse of her all day. The last time I’d seen her had been last night as Bodhi had lead her out of this very room.

I hadn’t caught Bodhi to ask him what had happened, Xaden giving him the night off instead of coming on the supply run like he was meant to. I’d tried to ask Xaden about it but he said Bodhi wouldn’t tell him anything when he ran into him when he came back from the healers Quadrant. Without Dahlia. Meaning what ever had happened had earned her an overnight stay over there. I scan the crowd and see Bodhi standing with Xaden and the rest of his squad, riders easily moving out of my way as I make my way over to them.

“So you going to tell us what happened last night?” I ask as I take the empty spot next to him as Xaden gets called up for a challenge.

Bodhi sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “It’s fine, just a training accident. You know what can happen when signets start manifesting.”

“Yes I’m aware.” I say, heavily hinting all too well my experience with it. “But it can’t be fine. Because last time I checked she didn’t come back with you last night, and I haven’t seen her all day.”

“You worried about her?” He teases with a smirk.

“No.” I scoff. “Merely an observation.”

“Who are we worried about?” I stiffen as her voice meets my ears.

Seconds later a she appears next to Bodhi, looking as she normally does. No sign of injury, and acting completely normal.

“Oh we were just-“

“Durran! Are you deaf? You’re up.” Emetterio calls out cutting Bodhi off.

I breathe a sigh of relief as Bodhi rushes off to his challenge, unable to out me for asking about her. I half expect her to walk off now Bodhi wasn’t here, but she doesn’t move. Her attention now on the challenges taking place.

“So do I have the honour of you challenging me and getting to make a fool of you today?” Her question surprising me as I look down at her, a slight smirk on her lips.

I chuckle and shake my head. “Not today, figured I’d go easy on you and let you settle back into challenges before I make a fool out of you and prove you wrong.”

She looks up at me and scoffs, but I can see how she tries to hold back a smile, the corner of her lip twitching ever so slightly. Maybe Bodhi was right. Maybe she did just need time.

“Aetos!” Her head whips towards Emetterio. “Not you Dain. Bloody hell. Dahlia you’re up next.”

She nods at him before undoing her jacket, sliding it off her arms to reveal her training gear. Despite the temperature she’s wearing a sleeveless top today. The first time I’d seen her in one since before threshing. And now I see why. Her dragon relic takes up the entirety of her arm. The blue marking wrapping around her arm. And I can’t help but think of the rebellion marks some of us bear.

I’m startled from my thoughts as she shoves the jacket into my arms. “Make yourself useful and hold this for me.” A sassy tone to her voice as she pats my arm before walking away.

I can’t help but look down at my arm where she touched me. Stunned by the way it had felt when she’d touched me. Almost as if a spark had formed, and I couldn’t help but want to crave her touch again. No. I was not craving her. I might not think she was as bad as I once thought but I did not crave her.

I look up to see her start circling her opponent. I note how Emmetiro had paired up first years without signets together, probably hoping to lessen any injuries and casualties. Good luck with that. I’d seen plenty of singers manifest during training and challenges. The higher intensity and pressure generally bringing them to the surface. It’s how I’d found out about mine. Everytime I thought about it I felt like I could hear the scream just as clearly as if it was happening right in front of me.

I get so caught up in my thoughts I don’t even register Bodhi taking his place next to me. “Why are you holding her jacket?” Bodhi asks as he grins at me.

I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that. She shoved it at me and told me to make myself useful before walking off.” I tell him as I shove the jacket into his arms instead.

“Don’t want to keep it as a memento for your soon to be shrine of her?” He teases as he grasps it in his hand.

“What? Why would I-“

My words are cut off by a blood curdling scream. Everyone’s heads snapping towards the source. I almost think I’ve imagined it, as if I’m relieving the moment I found out my signet. But instead of me pinning another rider to the mat, it’s Dahlia. Dahlia who quickly scrambles off her opponent as she looks down at her hands in horror. Her face as pale as a ghost as her eyes flick up to the cadet still screaming and writhing on the floor in pain.

Emetterio and Xaden are the first to move, rushing over to Dahlia as another Wing Leader rushes to the cadet still screaming on the floor. Emetterio and Xaden try and talk to Dahlia, even shaking her to get a response out of her. But all she does is stare down at her hands, unresponsive to everything else going on around her. Exactly like me last year.

“Oh shit.” Bodhi mutters under his breath as he steps forward slightly before stopping. His eyes snapping to me and back to Dahlia before turning on me and grabbing my forearm tightly. “Did you touch her? When she gave you the jacket did you touch her?” He demands as he grips me tighter.

I rip my arm from his grip, anger flaring within me as if he’s accusing me of what’s happened. “I didn’t touch her. She touched me. Patted my arm before she walked off.”

Bodhi’s face drains of all colour at my words. I go to ask him what’s going on, but movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention away. Watching as Dahlia rushes towards the exit, the other riders parting for her immediately before she bursts through the doors, clearly scared they would meet the same fate as her opponent. Xaden is quick to follow after her, rushing out into the cool winter air.

“What’s her touching my arm got to do with this?” I demand from him as I step forward, turning my attention back to him as my heart rate picks up.

“You’ll feel bad if I tell you.” His voice warning me, but fuck it. I needed to know. Clearly I was somehow related to this and I wanted to know how.

Bodhi sighs before hanging his head as he looks at the ground. “Last night Dahlia got her signet.”

Confusion washes over me. Did she have the same signet as me? No, if she did Emetterio would have kept her to the side till she could control it. The only safe option for her would be Bodhi as it wouldn’t work on him. But if she didn’t know just like I had, then it would be very possible none of them had any clue before she stood on that mat.

“So? What’s that got to do with me?” I demand, my voice raising slightly.

He looks up at me, as if he feels sorry for me. “She can use other people’s signets. When she touches them, their signet becomes hers till she touches someone else. That’s how she got hurt last night. She flung herself across the room with friends air signet. And that’s how….” He averts his gaze to the now passed out cadet being carried from the room.

I don’t need Bodhi to tell me the rest. My eyes going wide as I realise what’s happened, head snapping towards the door where she left. She’d touched me before she went on the mat. Her signet still so new she probably didn’t think anything of it as she placed her hand on my arm. She’d replicated my signet.

I’d done this.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 1. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader)

Part 2 here.

Warnings: Profanities, sexual tension, alcohol and cigarette use.

Author's note: I'm not exactly staying on top of the timeline of rivals, bare this in mind as you read. Of course with any self inserts, it's an AU with a bit of tweaking. No smut involved in this chapter, just fluff until I post more parts. AGE GAP (22!Reader). Thanks for reading.

It was your first week at the Corinium. You were a fresh-faced journalist straight out of Washington State University who had accepted an internship at the independent commercial television station in the county of Rutshire, England. Far from home and comfort, you strived to be the best at what you were asked to do. The pay was good, and the idea of being in another continent where anything was possible kept your drive at an all-time high. You were practicing your decorum quietly to yourself at your desk, fiddling with your pen.

"Already going mad, are you?" Your co-worker and new friend Seb asks, grinning as he puts down his homework on your desk.

You laugh awkwardly, crossing your leg over the other as you lean back to look up at the ginger. "If I have to hear Tony Baddingham cuss out another person because Declan O'Hara is too stubborn to take his lead," You quip, closing your own folder of paperwork. "I think I'll start drinking more." You exasperate, recalling the sudden outburst from Tony's office a mere five minutes ago. Seeing Declan O'Hara riled up was never a great sign, but you couldn't help but run your eyes over his sculpted arms when he took off his blazer in frustration.

"I think you need to start drinking more in general, y/n. You're in England now. We all have a problem." Seb comments, half-sitting on your desk. "You should come with us to Bar Sinister. It's owned by Basil, Tony's brother." He says, crossing his arms.

You raise a brow. "I thought we were assigned to get dirt on the next guest on Declan's and have it in by Monday. Wouldn't that cut into our research time?" You query.

Seb laughs. "You Americans are such workaholics." He shakes his head. "Come get a drink with us!" He pleas, hitting your arm lightly. "Those reputations aren't going anywhere. Besides, we're all going, you'll be the odd one out if you don't."

"All of you?" You say, looking across the room at Declan O'Hara. He's speaking to someone on the phone in his office, the blinds open enough to allow you for a peek. God, what a man he was.

"Yes, all of us. I can't speak for Tony or Declan, though." Seb hums, the feeling of disappointment washing over you. "I'd like to see you there, though." He adds, the both of you sharing a lingering gaze before he gets up and walks away.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think your colleague was flirting with you. You didn't mind it, really. Seb was attractive, and only a year younger than you. Unfortunately, you just had a taste something a little more aged. Everyone seemed to want to fuck each other in this office. You barely managed to avoid the claws of some of the older men yourself, not that you were complaining-- besides the fact none of them were Declan O'Hara.

You decide to stand up, grabbing ahold of your folder before boldly heading over to Mr. O'Hara's office. You slowly knock on the ajar door to get his attention before you step in.

"-We'll discuss this later. Goodbye." Declan says into his phone, hanging it up when he notices you. "Y/n, hello. What can I do for you?" He asks, putting his hands behind his back as he leans back in his chair.

Many things. You think to yourself, trying to look away from his stretched out torso before speaking. "I was just wondering if I could help you with anything else before I leave today Mister O'Hara? I just noticed you seem a bit stressed, maybe I could take something off of your plate if possible." You say, smoothing out your skirt.

He chuckles lightly, leaning forward to take a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. "Call me Declan, love. No need for so much professionalism." He sighs, your heart skipping a beat at his words of endearment as he runs a hand through his hair. "I'm 'fraid not. Tony's up my arse, and my wife's trying to throw this ridiculously expensive party for my son's birthday which also happens to be New Year's and..." He notices your glimmer of concern in your eyes, staring into them as if he got distracted. "I uh," He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." He says, waving it off.

"I'm sorry, that does seem like an awful lot." You say, your cheeks reddening from his stare. "You don't deserve that, you know. The way Mister Baddingham treats you." You mutter, toying with the folder in your arms.

Declan chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and popping it into his mouth. "Try telling him that." He says wryly, lighting up the smoke.

"Well Declan, there's a group of us going to Bar Sinister later, if you'd like to unwind. God knows we both need it." You try to joke, laughing awkwardly as Declan gives you a look. You clear your throat, straighten your spine. "Sorry, just a suggestion." You mumble.

He laughs genuinely this time, inhaling his cigarette again. "You're funny, y/n. I thought it would be intolerable hiring an American journalist-"

"Hey!" You interject, gasping playfully.

"But!" Declan holds a hand up, stopping you from speaking further. "You're quite lovely to have around. I enjoy your presence." He says, smiling at you. "I hope you consider a permanent placement in the future."

Your face lights up, a big smile on your face now. "Thank you Mister- Declan." You correct yourself. He laughs again. "But I would have to become apart of your personal board to get approved for anything like that." You add.

"Well," Declan says, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I hope you don't mind if I consider that possibility y/n. You have a lot of potential, and I admire your drive." He admits, clasping his hands together and putting them on his desk.

"I am very flattered, Declan. Thank you." You say, looking down before meeting his gaze again. "It's been a pleasure working for you." The undertone of your words hint at something beyond, causing Declan to tilt his chin up a bit to analyze you.

There was something about you that had caught his attention since you first set foot in Corinium, and he couldn't seem to shake his mind from it. It was like a guilty pleasure he could never acknowledge out loud.

The phone rings. Declan nods towards it, signaling for the conversation to end. "See you tonight, y/n." He finishes, taking the phone off it's mantle as you feel heat beginning to simmer in your abdomen, nodding before leaving his office and closing the door behind you.

You have a wide grin on your face as you make your way back to your desk, hastily returning to your work in order to keep the evening free.

-

Much to your surprise, it was karaoke night at the bar. There was a good mix of random patrons and recognizable faces taking turns singing out ballads.

You and Seb were sat at the bar, him sipping on a Guinness as you had a vodka soda. Classic American, he commented when you ordered it.

“You gonna go up there?” You ask Seb, gesturing towards Freddie Jones who was pouring his heart out on the mic.

“Mm, possibly. What’d you reckon I sing? I’m tone deaf but maybe if everyone gets drunk enough no one will notice.” He jokes, earning a fit of laughter from you both.

“I love The Cure if that’s any help.” You suggest, finishing your vodka soda.

Seb quickly gestures for the bartender to bring over a bottle of wine. He notices your curious expression, shrugging his shoulders. “Company’s paying for this shite, not me." He explains. "Also, The Cure? I like 'em, but they’re not gonna translate with these guys.” He says, drinking his pint. He pours you a glass of wine as you glance around the space, trying to spot Declan anywhere.

“What about Last Christmas? You know, by Wham? It’s almost Christmas after all.” You say, already pouncing on your glass of wine.

“I do like that one, maybe I’ll do it yeah.” Seb says nonchalantly, finishing his Guinness. “I’ll go right now, actually.” He suddenly gets up, walking through the crowd.

You grab the wine bottle itself and take a swig from it, feeling the alcohol flush out your face. You hated how it made your cheeks red like you were ashamed to be plastered.

You finally see the man you were waiting for enter the place, scanning the room before his eyes landed on yours. You give Declan a timid wave, causing him to walk over as Seb began singing on stage. “You made it!” You exclaim, returning to pouring the wine into your glass so you seemed classy in front of your inappropriate work crush.

“Yes, sorry. Had to stay later at the office to do more flawed research.” He jests, nodding towards the bartender who already knew his regular. Declan referred to finding dirt on his guests as flawed research, mainly so it didn’t seem so inane in conversation.

"You're very dedicated to your work, I'm surprised you have time for any of this." You say, allowing yourself to speak more freely now that you were definitely tipsy.

"My wife would say the same." He sighs, taking a sip of his glass of whiskey.

You take another sip of your glass, trying to conceal your distaste at the mention of his wife. "Is she not very pleased with you, Declan?" You ask, causing your boss's face to harden. "I'm sorry," You quickly add. "That's personal I shouldn't have said that, that's so stupid of me-"

"Y/n." Declan says, putting a hand on your arm. You feel your body burn up at his touch. "It's okay, really. It's actually relieving to know you don't know anything about my martial problems. Everyone does." He says dryly, taking another sip of his whiskey. "She's not too keen on me being obsessed with my job. She compares it to cheating on her, which I find rather hypocritical considering..." He trails off, smiling at you. "Forget it." He raises his glass, clinking yours. "To you, for being an amazing intern." He slams back his glass, putting it down and grabbing ahold of the aged bottle of whiskey to pour himself.

You smile awkwardly, raising your glass before taking another sip of your wine. You piece it together in your head, realizing that his wife must've committed adultery; just like almost every other married person you've worked alongside so far. "Jesus, Declan. I'm sorry." You mumble, hearing Seb's singing end in the distance.

"Please, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." Declan says, a look of yearning in his eyes.

"If I were her, I'd never do anything of the sort. If I was with someone like you I'd cherish it everyday." You say, finishing your glass of wine.

Declan raises a brow, chuckling heartily. "And someone would be very, very lucky to have you y/n." He replies, the two of you locked in a stare.

You were definitely drunk by now, and wine always gave you an edge to flirt with whomever you found most attractive in the room. You place a hand on his arm, finally knowing what it was like to feel his muscles through the thin material of his button up. "You deserve better, Declan." You say, rubbing your thumb along his bicep. You watch as the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, placing his hand over yours on his arm.

"How'd you think I did?" Seb asks, returning the bar and interrupting the moment between you and Mr. O'Hara. You pull back, turning yourself to face Seb.

"You did great, Seb." You say, pressing a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to go as red as his hair. "I think I'm gonna give it a shot, show the English what talents an American has." You grin, unable to make eye contact with Declan out of embarrassment for trying to flirt with a married man. However, the commonality of cheating on spouses here still gave you a sliver of hope as you walked towards the stage, a mask of confidence due to alcohol consumption.

"What song are you gonna do?" Seb asks, following in suit.

"You'll see." You say. You walk up to the host, whispering a song in their ear. They nod, giving you a thumbs up as you get on the stage.

Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears starts to play, causing the entire place to riot with excitement. You grin madly, grabbing ahold of the microphone as the lyrics begin to play. You watch as Declan makes his way through the crowd, standing between Freddie and Seb to watch you perform.

"I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention."

You dance along to the music, singing freely like no one was watching.

"You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time..."

You now make eye contact with Declan O'Hara, singing the chorus. Everyone's dancing around, paying no mind to where your attention was.

"Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away..."

Declan watches you in admiration, realizing you're singing directly at him. You look away for the rest of the song, only returning your gaze when the chorus comes up again. When the song ends, you give a little curtesy, putting the mic back on the stand as everyone cheers madly.

"That was brilliant, y/n!" Seb exclaims, holding you in an embrace. You laugh, hugging him back. "Thanks, Seb."

"Seb, can you do one with me?" Daysee asks, causing Seb to pull away from you. "Course, what're you thinking?" The two of them walk away, leaving you be to earn compliments from the rest of your colleagues.

"You have a great voice." Declan says, causing you to turn and face him. "Great song, too." He adds.

"Thanks, it was a personal choice." You say, the next song starting up. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac starts playing, Seb and Daysee's choice. "Fuck, I love this song." You exclaim, looking over at the stage as your friends begin to sing along.

"As do I," Declan says. "Care to dance?" He asks, causing your gaze to return to his outstretched hand.

You smile. "I'd love to." You place one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand as he places a hand on the small of your back. Your breathing becomes more shallow as the two of you rock to the music, staring into each other's eyes.

You didn't know if you were simply too drunk to acknowledge the reality of the situation, but you couldn't help but wonder if Declan was starting to like you a little more than just an intern that was great at her job.

The space between the two of you becomes insignificant, your head slowly leaning onto his chest as his hand moves down to your lower back, staying at the top of your skirt. You close your eyes as the two of you rock in sync, hearing his heart beat rather triumphally. Your stomach is full of butterflies, and the heat between your legs is almost unbearable as he rubs small circles on your lower back.

He smelled like Tom Ford cologne and Marlboro Golds with an undertone of whiskey, the scent of him nearly more intoxicating than the alcohol itself. You feel his chest vibrate as he quietly sings along to the song, causing you to pull your head back to look at him. You both start singing along, your faces merely inches away from each other.

"When the rain washes you clean, you'll know You'll know You will know Oh, you'll know.."

The song ends, everyone erupting into applause as you register the proximity of you and Declan, taking a step back as you notice the stares of your colleagues.

"Thanks for the dance." You mumble, looking down at the ground. "I uh, need to find Seb he's my ride." You say abruptly, leaving Declan stunned on the dancefloor as you hurriedly approach your ginger colleague. "Can you drive me home now?" You ask, putting a hand on his arm.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Do you need a ride too Daysee?" He asks, the blonde shaking her head.

"'M alright. I'll see you lads on Monday." She says, grinning as the two of you grab your coats from the bar stools.

"Goodbye, Declan." You say, making eye contact with the brooding man who simply looks at you.

"Goodnight, y/n." He responds, inhaling his cigarette before looking away.

You feel a pang in your chest as you look at Declan for another moment, expecting more. He says nothing else. Seb leads you away from the bar, allowing you to let go of any longing between you and Mr. O'Hara.

Declan knew it was wrong to think of you in any other light outside of work. Even if Maud had cheated on him before, with the tendency to keep going at it, he still couldn't shake the guilt away just yet. He retreated to disregarding you as a means to hopefully make you both forget about the whole ordeal, as if he wasn't thinking about what it would be like to have his hands underneath that tight pencil skirt of yours.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, lighting another cigarette. The holiday season was about to be a real hassle, and he was afraid of asking Santa for what he really wished for this time around.

-

guys... i finally did it... declan o'hara i want you so bad. i think im just gonna write a part two to this maybe three, and leave it at that. if you have any requests pweaseee leave them for meeee this show has me in a CHOKEHOLD.

much love as always, isabel

[zorak-phd]

I don't think I have one currently but I had one in middle school. A bully of mine made it on Facebook and blamed me for his parents divorce and ruining his home life.

After our first incident, my mom met up with his parents and had chats about coming together or something. Not directly angry or anything or getting mad at them but hoping to positively affect each other and his mom & my mom became friends.

After the second/third interaction, my mom noticed my bully walk back into the school with just his father and decide we should go in to. We go into the principal office after them and witness the father lying up a storm on behalf of his son, saying that I'M bullying HIS son (For reference, I'm a scrawny kid at this moment who hasn't hit his growth spurt at this time, literally smallest kid in the school while my bully is the tallest, bulky and a boxer) and then claims my mom went to their car and was physically threatening them.

We stayed silent and just let him continue until the lady in the office interrupted to ask him if the group behind him was who he was talking about, bringing us to his attention. Our parents started getting into a yelling argument, so did me and his son and in the heat of the moment his son screamed at me "You act like I'm the only one that bullies you", my mom screamed "hold it! I'm not the only one who caught what he just said right? " and the school staff members confirmed they heard what he said too. All of a sudden, the father starts backpedaling and talking about his son getting violent and arguing with him at home too. Now the father is agreeing that his son hasn't been acting right now that he can't deny it.

Afterwards, my mom called his mom to tell him what happened and she was furious and embarrassed about what happened and even got a call from the school about it too.

I had no more interactions with this specific bully afterwards irl and he eventually stopped going to our school but the rest of this I learned from the Facebook group he created, dedicated to hating me after searching my own name online; after this event his parents started fighting a lot and eventually divorced one another. His mother was disappointed in both him and his dad so he had a long punishment from her too with a lot of his devices taken away, her got kicked out of karate (forgot to mention that we both took karate at the same place, I had stopped going a bit prior to this but remembered this, he was a purple belt and I was blue but we sparred once and he was very violent, my mom contacted the dojo about him using it to bully kids so they kicked him out), post divorce his parents were now both single income and moved to different areas so he could no longer attend the same school he once attended and both parents no longer had the extra income they had before to spend on gifts for him or just high quality items in general. Him having to go to a different school also meant he was separated from a lot of the friends he had made.

He considered all of this to have been my fault, that I ruined his life and then made this group not just to vent but to also recruit people still at the school to get revenge in his absence. I actually did get bullied a lot afterwards but I don't think it had anything to do with him, I think it was more related to exploitation of the schools new weird "no tolerance policy" where everyone gets punished in an altercation (yes that includes the victim in the altercation) and the school also expelled students who got suspended 3 times so it created an environment where bullies can all bully a specific kid and not get in trouble because the kid getting bullied would stop seeking help to avoid getting expelled themselves when they got punished along with whoever was bullying them.

[kingeparr]

abt percy jackson's middle name - a long post

let's talk about percy's middle name, its implication and what is my headcanon for it!!

first a warning!! i know very little abt actual greek mithology. i've tried to read my copy of odyssey and illiad a total of 10 times and i CANNOT for my life understand that shit. having said that, my mythos knowledge is based on hours on wikipedia sources pages, greek miths articles and more. anyways, this will have spoilers of the Percy Jackson Universe by Rick Riordan.

having been warned, I should start with one point:

percy doesn't have a middle name in canon. From what we've known it's never mentioned a middle name at all, wich is not very uncommon in the PJO universe, as most character do not have one (from the top of my head the only ones that canonically have one are Rachel and Reyna (Rachel Elizabeth Dare and Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano))

BUT in most fandom fanfics that feature his middle name, he is called Perseus Achilles Jackson. Again, it is not canon, but it is so common that most people think it is true. Unfortunately, it doesn't make sense.

It's canon that Sally was the one that named Percy, and she chose Perseus, a son of Zeus, as her choice because he was one of the only Greek heroes that in most versions of the myths get to live a long and relatively happy life after their adventures. From what I've known most times Perseus dies of old age or ascends as a constellation along with his mother and his wife, Andromeda.

Now, what are the implications that we know of?

this will be mostly speculation and head canons, so beware!!

i don't think Rick Riordan ever stated, but it is possible to draw parallels between Percy and Annabeth with Perseus and Andromeda, essentially in their first quest, even more in the series. The same is possible to associate with other characters with names derived from Greek myths.

and, until now, all of Percy's quest he has come back alive, even if the world was ending or if he has gone trough Tartarus, he has come back alive.

As it stands in canon, it's often said that names have power !! saying gods, monsters or others names will call their attention, or give them power. it could be associated that those names with History, or a Legacy HAVE more power and purpose behind them. Ex: Castor and Pollux, Jason, could even say Leo etc.

that is great, and reforces that its possible Sally did something right about the naming.

now, next part is a FULL BLOWN HEAD CANON!!

to me, his full name is Perseus Ulysses Jackson. let me tell you why.

Ulysses = Odysseus

Ulysses comes from Odysseus, yes, the Greek hero hated by Poseidon from the Odyssey. Why would Sally do that? Same reason of why Perseus.

Odysseus, despite all his Odyssey, came back home. In the Odyssey, is said he will live the rest of his life peacefully, and apparently he lived mor 10 years as Ithaca's King. There is another myth where he is killed by his son with Circe, but ignore that for this post.

I think it would make sense for the way they both lived that even if Poseidon hated him, that Sally would have her son named after a hero and a general that even after everything he went trough he still made home, still had people who believed in him, even if Sally herself were not there to see him, like Odysseus' mother, at least he would be alive.

Someone that is selfish in a way if that means he lives. In the same way Sally calls herself selfish for trying to have Percy with her for more time during the years before TLT. For that she endured Gabe.

Not that she knew that of course, but the fates could be at work. I'm always fan of a good foreshadowing.

Now Speaking of foreshadowing, next topic

2. Ulysses - Roman name

Ulysses is the roman version of Odysseus, still has the same meaning and the roman version of the myth is not that different. Why roman, then?

First, because my Odyssey copy was with the Roman names and I was very pissed at that when I was 12 and tried reading it for the first time and discovered that the FUCKING ODYSSEY MAN WAS NOT CALLED ODYSSEUS IN MY VERSION, to my frustration.

ANYWAY, second point: Percy has a connection to the Roman since the first book.

In his classes with Chiron, Percy fights in Roman armor, swords and has Latin classes, and while that is all good and cool, i always found it strange of Chiron to teach Latin, and not Greek. Of course, it could be a ruse of Chiron to distance Percy even more from his greek side, while still helping him learn about the world. it could be nothing.

but to me is not nothing.

Percy has a weird facility with Latin at 12 that Jason did not have with Greek at 16. And while it could be argued that they did not have their memories, Percy was a 12 yo boy that CURSED IN LATIN in a time of distress. I bet they did not have classes about "How to curse in Latin" and i doubt Percy searched for that somewhere.

Percy is very connected with the Roman side of the demigod world, he feels drawn to New Rome, goes to the Roman Uni and he gets so wrapped in it he becomes PREATOR in like a week!! while Jason spent months on the Greek side.

Percy has a lot of participation in Both sides of the demigods being a kinda important figure in both camps.

now, a subtopic.

Percy Jackson: Son of Neptune

Percy is presented as a son of Neptune from the get go in camp Jupiter, wich he doesn't protest at any time (from what i remember), the thing is Poseidon IS different from Neptune specially their roots.

Poseidon is primarily the god of the sea. Neptune is the god of rivers, springs, and waters.

Technically, Percy should not have control of any type of water or rivers, his father is the god of SEA, saltwater. Even then, he can control even the rivers in the Underworld. He has such control of "water" that he can control ALL LIQUIDS! That is not Poseidon's domain, the control of Waters is Neptune's.

knowing this i like to believe the following.

Percy is the son of both Poseidon and Neptune. Don't ask me the logistics, i wouldn't know, and i don't care. HOWEVER when you add things up, it makes sense, in my head, at least.

In conclusion, Sally associates her son's fate with two heroes that go trough MANY hardships but get back home, are strong and live kind of happy lives after that. One of them is mainly Greek, being his first name, what he is primarily called. The other is Roman, it is there, but it's not mentioned, but it still is his name, and it gives him power.

Specially, when you think that the roman counterparts all have a child, except Neptune. Pluto has Hazel, Hades had Bianca and Nico. Jupiter had Jason, Zeus has Thalia. Poseidon has Percy, Neptune has no one? seems unequal and unbalanced in a way the gods wouldn't allow.

Not only that but why would Neptune "claim" or let be claimed a son that wasn't his when Rome hasn't been grateful or careful with him? His last child was scorned (i don't remember the name but it's said that they were basically blamed for earthquakes or something in the 1900)

as the series goes and percy draws MUCH MORE POWER from rivers and other liquids than from the ocean, and the time it took for percy to be born he could be powerful from both sides. he is the first demigod of Poseidon in 70+ years, but he is the first demigod rrom Neptune in 100+ !!!

it makes sense that even if he is called a greek, as his name evokes, he is connected and powerful on his Roman side. It is not a coincidence that people thought he was a god when he first arrived in Camp Jupiter.

It's a tribute for both his Roman and Greek sides, to invoke the names and fates of two powerful kings that are burdened with responsibility, and that learned and lived after their quests.

i could talk about this for hours, specially if Epic's Odysseus by Jorge Rivera-Herrans is taken in account (wich I am doing) but I will not elaborate

anyway, Percy's middle name is Ulysses and I'm right, idc.

[the-sprog]

thinking about Naruto MHA crossover where post Shippuden but pre Boruto Team 7 end up in the world of MHA and have to choose a hero name for themselves for whatever reason and this conversation happens

N: "... You know what would be funny?"

Sasu: "You're not going around calling yourself "The Jinchuriki", Naruto."

N: "oh cmon why"

Saku: "We're not letting you call yourself a human sacrifice."

N: "but think of how funny it would be!!"

K: "I'm with him on this one. It would be hilarious."

Saku: "Why not... something related to the Ninetailed fox? Kyuubi or something?"

N: "do you want Kurama to eat you? Because if you suggest that again he's going to eat you"

Saku: "Ok ok. tell him to chill out"

Sasu: "I think he can hear you. Also don't tell the demon that lives in Naruto's stomach to chill."

K: "Yeah sakura. That's rude."

Saku: "I hate you all."

N: "... so I'm gonna go ahead and use jinchuriki-"

S&S: "NO"

N ":C"

Sakura decides on Medic-nin, very basic, she's the first that chose and didn't think everyone else was going to go take it THAT seriously.

Kakashi decides to repurpose his ANBU name and goes by Hound.

Naruto wants to use Jinchuriki because he thinks it would be HILARIOUS and is not letting anyone tell him otherwise.

Sasuke didn't want to do this, wanted to use Uchiha but got outvoted. He gets bullied into choosing Amaterasu. Him and Tokoyami would get along here.

I thought about how they'd go about the quirk thing. They can't attract too much attention using all their abilities, so they plan out what to use.

Sakura thought calling herself the Medic of the group would get her underestimated as the sideliner, but she uses her strength to shatter people's bones while naming them.

Naruto mostly stays within Shadow clones and Henge techniques, as well as speed. He allows himself the occasional Rasengan if things get real touch and go.

Kakashi goes all copy nin on them. I'm going to say he can use chakra to copy emitter quirks, so he goes with that and predicting people's moves and general taijutsu.

Sasuke goes all genjutsu on people. Allows himself the occasional chidori too though. Once they get a reliable way to care for them, he also starts sword fighting people.

In my head the first chapter of the fic would be a pov alternation between Aizawa telling a task force of heroes about the new vigilantes on the rise, all serious and gloomy, and team 7 having the above conversation

I was thinking of why this could've happened and I can very well blame the aliens still. I mean, they make a comeback in Boruto. But I want to ignore that show and make up my own ideas post Shippuden. But I mean. If the aliens have a time traveling device what's stopping me from saying they also have a universe traveling one?

So my idea is that team 7 accidentally activated it and it's got this ENORMOUSLY long cool down because it uses a ridiculous amount of chakra. This was only possible because Naruto was there essentially. So they're mostly chill. It's long enough after the war that the biggest issue is Kakashi isn't there to be Hokage, but I mean. Yamato can fill in for a few. So they're only biding their time and making sure the aliens don't come cause problems. Hence the double identities. They wanna make sure they can both spy around and hang out in public places without being constantly Henged.

Meanwhile the hero commission is in shambles because Naruto is physically incapable of minding his own beeswax, especially when children are being mistreated. He's honestly one fist fight away from befriending the LoV let's be honest.

[merp-blerp]

Gaylor/Kaylor and Oz: Parallels and Theories Vol. 2 🌼🌈❇️

CW: Spoilers for L. Frank Baum's Oz book series (books 1-15). And this post is very late-stage-Kaylor-specific, so if that's not up your alley, that's chill.

Vol. 1 Here (I recommend reading Vol. 1 before this one)

Overblown Analysis Under the Cut ↓

AH! I'm so ecstatic that I get to make another one of these so quickly! I was so proud of Vol. 1 and I'm so happy there's new material to explore! Thank you very much for the reception to Vol. 1, I'm so glad people liked it. It's cool to see other people who probably didn't even see my post seemingly make the Return To Oz connections as well. It makes me feel "smart". 😅

Part 1: The Tin Woodman ❤️🌈

Let's start out with something small and old news. A theory that's new to me is the Tin Woodman's role in gaylor theories (He's very specifically called "Tin Woodman" in the books, not Tinman, so I'll call him by his book name so as to not blur the line of exactly which version of the character I'm talking about). This collage by iateallthecat2 on Twitter (from this post) brought it to my attention:

I'm not sure if there's already some in-depth theory that goes beyond this collage out there, so I'm gonna wing it from here based on my own Oz knowledge.

In the "ME!" MV, Brendon Urie's character is a suitor that Taylor rejects. They fight when inside a house and she rejects his proposal, but when he gifts her something with no general romantic meaning, a cat, they spend the rest of the MV having a good, platonically-coded time. Brendon plays someone who wants to play the role of Taylor's partner, but they seemingly work better as buds in their rainbow haven.

I have wondered if Brendon is supposed to be playing a beard who Taylor tries to take to freedom with her in this MV, but I'm admittedly slightly apprehensive about the idea. It would be kinda cool if one or more of Tay's beards also came out with her whenever she does. This plotline seems very similar to the suspected "she ghosted but kept the castle" narrative. In both Taylor rejects a proposal, except here Taylor and her beard seem more connected. It makes me wonder, if everything had gone to plan, would the narrative in 2019 have been that presumably Joe would've proposed and Taylor would have rejected it but they would've been on friendly terms. Or maybe all of that would've happened to Karlie and Josh in a way since they were married in 2018. Or maybe it would've happened to both of them. Then they would've been able to build a narrative for Kaylor as a couple that didn't involve saying "We hid this from you for this long". But that's spitballing.

Either way, Brendon is definitely someone who helps Taylor along her "story" as he infamously put himself:

Everyone knows that the Tin Woodman helps Dorothy on her journey, but he also helps out Ozma/Tip on hers in the second book and so on.

In the first book, the Tin Woodman's backstory is that he was once a human named Nick Chopper, who was engaged to a Munchkin girl named Nimmie Amee. While Nick seems to respect and love her, he also seems to only be engaged to her because he doesn't want to be lonely after the death of his parents, at least to me. But the Wicked Witch of the East curses Nick to chop off his limbs whenever he tries to chop wood. He gets these limbs replaced with tin parts until he is fully tin. But his body no longer needed a heart and therefore he felt no romantic love for Nimmie Amee, so their relationship fizzled out.

Whether he ever romanticly loved her in the first place is debatable in my opinion. I personally don't think he did, especially since long after he's gotten the realization that he had a heart, Nick never really tries to romanticly pursue Nimmie Amee again, but he does tie loose ends with her in The Tin Woodman of Oz. However, my point is that Nick seems to only want Nimmie when he thinks she can fill a void. Once he thought he was too broken for her to fix he subconsciously realized he didn't actually love her, but interpreted it as though he just "stopped" loving her.

To put it simply, I see Nick as practically going through comphet before finding true fulfillment in the things that come after he's un-rusted. My personal interpretation of Nick is that he is a gay man, unbeknownst to him, who tries to find love in a woman, but it inevitably doesn't work. He loved Nimmie because he hoped she could fix his pain. There's no way to prove Baum meant Nick to be seen this way, but queer interpretations of Nick are common in modern Oz fan circles. Somewhat like Taylor and Brendon in "ME!", Nick and Nimmie try to play the roles of a couple, but being a couple just isn't in the cards for them, so they keep things platonic.

In comparison, Nick loves the Scarecrow for the actual companionship he gives. The Tin Woodman states that he no longer needs Nimmie's love, as he has the Scarecrow's. The Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow are pretty similar to Dorothy and Ozma in terms of being queer-coded in their relationship. They live close to one another because they're sadder apart, cordially debate philosophy, rule Winkie Country together, and are often depicted comfortably in each other's physical space, among other wholesome details.

The physical representation of the Tin Woodman's heart is made of a velvet pouch and sawdust in the books, but in the '39 film Tinman's heart is a ticking clock with daisies stringed to it. Of course, daisies have a great significance to Kaylor because of the Big Sur trip. And clocks have been having a significance in Taylor's art since "The Man" and the Karma wall.

I don't necessarily think Karlie, Taylor, or Brendon are represented through the Tin Woodman, Nimmie, and the Scarecrow in Taylor's art in a literal sense. I see it as just another queer piece of the puzzle. Brendon might not literally be the Tin Woodman in Taylor's art the same way Karlie is Dorothy, but I think he at least played him during the Lover era. Brendon/Tin Woodsman helps Taylor/Ozma through her journey to where she belongs like a queer friend helping another queer friend.

Also, I'll leave this section off on this reach cutesy note:

Part 2: Ozma and the Wizard 🌺🪄

Back in Vol. 1, I suggested a theory that if Karlie Kloss was represented as Dorothy Gale in Taylor's music, then Taylor was more subtly represented as Queen/Princess Ozma. I've been seeing another theory around about Taylor being the Wizard, aka Oscar Diggs. I also really like this theory and I think it can make sense for both theories to exist simultaneously.

The Wizard is an illusionist. In the first novel, when appearing to each of Dorothy's friends individually he appears as something different to all of them. To Dorothy, he is a giant floating head, to the scarecrow he is a fairy, to the tinwoodsman he is a beast, and to the cowardly lion he is a ball of fire. He is able to change himself into anything he pleases, but he has no real magic. In order to rule over Oz unrightfully, Oscar Diggs stole Ozma away as a baby and gave her to a witch named Mombi, who transformed Ozma into a boy named Tip, disguising Ozma from everyone and herself; in the second book, Ozma is transformed back to her true form and takes her place as ruler of Oz, eventually ruling with Dorothy by her side. To make a long story short, Ozma and Dorothy eventually forgive Oscar for his crimes.

I see Oscar/the Wizard as representing Performance Taylor, while the real Taylor is Ozma. The Wizard is from Kansas in the '39 film and performance Taylor is currently associated with the Kansas City Chiefs. Performance Taylor, just like Oscar, is able to change himself when needed and isn't the unstoppable being his citizens once believed in despite never meeting him. Just like Oscar, Performance Taylor is an illusionist who appeases the citizens with theatrics to hide the truth for the time being. Performance Taylor/Oscar hides the real Taylor/Ozma away. Real Taylor/Ozma, when seen, is forced into the shape of a boy, Tip/James, Peter, the Man, etc. But soon Ozma reclaims her land and keeps the castle Oscar took, and so might the real Taylor.

If you believe Post Malone is playing a side of Taylor in the "Fortnight" MV, Taylor seems to be depicting herself as coming together with both the public and private parts of herself. Previously in MVs for songs like "...Ready For It", Taylor was always at odds with her clone, but in "Fortnight" they team up to get out of the asylum. Ozma and Dorothy make amends with Oscar and Taylor makes amends with herself.

Part 3: The Yellow Brick Road and The Emerald City 🟨❇️

I think a lot of us know about Taylor's Instagram grid currently aligning with yellow outfits from Eras at the moment:

Typically when Taylor's Instagram grid aligns like this it means something. The most common theory as to what this might mean is that Taylor is creating a yellow brick road. Yellow is often seen as the closeting color in gaylor circles for various reasons, such as the Evermore closet in The Lover House being filled with yellow clothes. Some fun estimates I've seen are that soon the alignment will be broken by some type of photo of Taylor in a green outfit post-Eras, like maybe a green outfit from tour in her Toronto thank you post or even her birthday post. The big hope right now is that this hypothetical post in a green outfit will signify Taylor's coming out being near, having reached her destination to the Emerald City, or that this green outfit post could even be a coming out post. My Oz-ian brain loves this idea! The yellow road to being free in the green, the color right after yellow in the rainbow.

In the first Oz book, the Emerald City is a huge hoax. It's not Emerald at all, but white. In order to trick the citizens of Oz into thinking that the city is emerald, the Wizard forces everyone to wear green-lensed spectacles that lock on; they are what make the city look green, the Wizard lying that they wear them because the brightness of the city would blind them if they didn't. Dorothy is given a "green" dress when she arrives in the Emerald City, but when she leaves it reveals itself as actually being white. After the first book, the Emerald City becomes truly emerald; from what I can remember there is no exact canonical reason as to why this is, so I theorize that the citizens just made it emerald after the wizard floats away in his balloon. The Emerald City truly being white represents the fakeness within the rule of the Wizard, but by the time Oz has its rightful ruler, Ozma, the city is truly Emerald. For TTPD and most if not all of Tay's discography, the colorless world represents the abusive music industry and closeting, but color represents Taylor's freedom, reclaiming the land. Also, the fictional Emerald City was inspired by the real-life White City Amusement Park that was once in Chicago, so there's that connection to white too. Green and White together remind me of Taylor's green band jacket in the "ME!" MV and her white band jacket in the "TSMWEL" performance from Eras. Symbolism-wise, Taylor thought she was close to reaching her destination when creating Lover, but the smallest man ruined it all and the emeralds were fake. Now she's about to go down the yellow road once more to get back to her emerald kingdom.

To expand on the colors of Oz a bit more, let's look at the house from "ME!"

Here's an official Oz map in case anyone finds it helpful:

This house in "ME!" is the starting point in the MV and the first room that we see is blue. Blue is the color of Munchkin Country in the Oz books, as every Oz region has a color. Munchkin Country is the first land of Oz we ever see and the starting point of "ME!" is blue just like it.

Then Taylor walks through a hall with blue walls and blue and yellow tiles on the floor. On her first trip to the Emerald City, Dorothy exclusively walks through Munchkin Country to the Emerald City, so the tile being blue and yellow signifies that this is only the first journey to the Emerald City.

The next room is a large green one. The Emerald City, right?

But when Taylor makes it out the front door, the house is white with some purple. Not the true Emerald City. Purple is for Gillikin Country. When Ozma is kidnapped by the Wizard of Oz and given to Mombi she lives in Gillikin Country as Tip. The Emerald City is (partly) white, Taylor's in her closet yellow, Ozma/true Taylor is dressed as a guy, and Ozma/true Taylor is yet to rule.

But finally, later in the video when Brendon and Taylor are on platonic terms, they run up to a massive green building with a rainbow beaming in front of it as they wear green clothes. I think this was intended to be the true Emerald City. The pink soldiers around it even look like the poppy field. I think it's notable that in the MV Brendon and Taylor run up to the Emerald City, but we never see them enter. I take that as acknowledging that Taylor wasn't there yet. "ME!" was not a coming-out video, it was a sprint toward that goal. So she wasn't inside the Emerald City quite yet, she was on the way, ever so close. However, as stated before, the smallest man ruined things, so this was retconned through Eras. However, if Taylor got to come out during Lover this would've been the final stop.

I was thinking that it would also be crazy if instead of a photo in a green outfit, we got one in red. In relation to Oz, red is Quadling Country. In the first book, it's the last place Dorothy journeys to before making it home. It's also where she meets Glinda for the first time (Glinda is the Witch of the South in the books and a different witch is the Witch of the North). Glinda is the only one who knows the real way to get Dorothy home, her silver shoes. So red would also be an interesting choice in this scenario, but green is definitely the more culturally recognizable choice.

I want to acknowledge the "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" connection I've seen around, even though I don't think I have much to add to it. The idea is that Elton John's song "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" has thematic parallels to gaylor. This idea that Taylor could leave behind a toxicly ritzy world for something better. Elton is an openly gay man in Hollywood who had to deal with a lot of silly Hollywood games regarding his sexuality. The way "GBYBR" is used in his film Rocketman definitely depicts Elton deciding to fix his issues brought on by the industry's abuse. Could this be what Taylor's about to do herself in her own way? Leave behind the yellow cedar closet for a life that's true to her? Taylor wore this outfit that already had plenty of Kaylor tie-ins like the twinning Carolina Herrera fit and the panther necklace, but her shoes match the ones Elton wears in the "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" album cover as he steps in or out of the Ozian picture.

As an extra fun tidbit, let's work some Oz history into this! It is a commonly told story that L. Frank Baum's inspiration for the yellow brick road comes from a real road in Peekskill, New York. The myth is that Baum asked for directions to the military academy and was told to "Follow the yellow brick road." Even though this exact story is likely just a myth, it's certainly not unlikely that Baum saw those yellow bricks. While Peekskill is not New York City, of course, New York City has a big significance in Taylor's music. In "WTNY" she views it as a place where anyone can be free. New York City could be its own character in her music. If New York City is freedom it could be seen as an equivalent to Ozma's Emerald City. Peekskill isn't where the city is, it holds the road to it and freedom.

Conclusion 🌼

Again, it's so cool to have more to add on to this Oz theory. I admit that it feels a bit vindicating that I made Vol. 1 and in due time we got more Oz crumbs. Wow, can't believe Taylor saw my post. In all seriousness, this has been so much fun. I know there's the possibility of yet another part to this. If you feel like I've forgotten anything, let me know! Can't wait to know what's on the horizon!

[do-you-have-a-flag]

i've made variations this post before but some little ways of thinking that i try to practice and you can too if you want to feel better in this world

making positive change requires multiple levels of engagement and that includes figuring out how to make it feel boring and common sense to reach the kind of people who would shy away from more emotional or empathy based arguments. the more mundane it feels the more it becomes like a default/normalised.

negative experiences are more memorable so we know to avoid them, bad news gets more attention, reasonable and nice people don't always go out of their way to comment but someone who loves to cause trouble will start a dog-pile. just because bad things are more noticeable doesn't mean they are more prevalent- a lot of the time the good things do not make news or are not amplified or celebrated to the same scale. Good things still happen.

most people do not operate from a place of malice, and there will be times when you realise that the narrative they have for topics that are a reality for you are a theoretical exercise to them, it can be easy to fall into arguing with a story they've been told. sometimes it's worth it to shrug and go "I'm just trying to pay for groceries" and remove the boogeyman element from the conversation. To go so-what at the extreme hypothetical. treat those comments with the exact amount weight as "but if a mouse said this about a kia sorento" and keep people in the realm of their actual day to day life and not these fake outrages they heard of online.

it's okay to not do enough to help and then try anyway another time, no one is keeping score of your moral choices and anyone who tries is an asshole who isn't helping you make moral choices.

[bitsandbobsfromrandomfandoms]

In some fandoms, I don't ship as much as I just sit on the periphery and enjoy the fanworks in whatever form it takes.

I had read quite a few fics and seen many fanarts and wasn't convinced per se.

It wasn't until I read a few posts from @iamnmbr3 that made me go back to the source material and examine it with new eyes.

I breezed through the books again from start to finish but it was HBP clinched it.

The previous books, I felt, had too much room for interpretation... Draco was obsessed with Harry for sure but it seemed that Harry was more focused on retaliation. He would dish out as good as he got but he didn't seem to care about Malfoy. HBP changed that big time.

It flipped the script entirely for me. Because there is literally no heterosexual explanation for that.

Tbf, I do suppose that long exposure to a thing does give it a chance to grow on you 🤣

But at the same time? I was in a seminar geared towards helping clients let go of chronic resentment and one of speakers said

"If a person is spending so much emotional capital on hating someone, there is a longing that is equally potent. That is how much that person's love might've meant to them"

And there I was in the middle of it, thinking about drarry 🤣

Because in my mind's eye I could see how Harry refusing to be Draco's friend injured him. Spoiled, yes, absolutely! But also sensitive? The dementor costumes! The Potter-stinks badges! All the things he did under the guise of hating Harry just to keep Harry's attention on him.

And we don't see that reciprocated until HBP when Draco is suddenly focused on something else and he has bigger problems than Harry.

We get to realize that maybe it isn't one-sided as we'd thought because now that Draco's attention is elsewhere, Harry is 100% committed to getting it back.

That's what convinced me.

Why was Harry so sure that Draco took the Dark Mark? Even Ron and Hermione had tried to talk him out it. But he just knew.

He was so sure even when his closest friends doubted him and thought he was crazy. He held out because he knew that if he was right, it would mean that Draco had promised his allegiance to someone else, someone who wasn't him and it disturbed him.

So the malicious little git who never missed a chance to take shots at you and bully you, turns out to have joined the wizarding version of the KKK. So what? Don't you hate him?

Why do you care, Harry? Why do you care?

Satisfy my curiosity pls

[electracution]

ARMY DREAMERS

I am aware the "trend" has long ago passed, but I've only just gotten around to it. Do not tell me it doesn't fit.

Here is a version with all of them together.

I haven't done digital in a while, but I've enjoyed it a lot, surprisingly. Thought I had to relearn a lot.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the finished artwork as much as I do 🩷

[goobygnarp]

.

[pekoeboo]

ugh. some thoughts.

really been trying to find the joy in drawing/writing again and honestly it's been such a challenge. friends have told me it's most likely depression that's making it hard to feel motivated and tbh they're probably right.

hoping to get back into being creative in the way I Want to be at some point tho. I miss it. there's still so much with my stories and characters that I haven't been able to share or explain and I wish I knew how without it feeling like this daunting, impossible task.

I don't know when I'll get around to actually sharing art again (or writing, if ever). was hoping that I'd manage to get some of my mental and physical issues in check recently for just long enough to get back into the swing of being creative, but that hasn't seemed to work. everything feels bad, both artistically and physically. I'm struggling to keep up with the frantic pace at which my brain comes up with story concepts and intriguing character interactions, even tho everything in me wishes I could turn it into tangible artistic expression so I can get it out of my head and share it. it used to be easy. I don't know why it's not now.

I'm just . tired, I guess.