#this would be so cool to experience together

[bumblingbabooshka]

Amanda's line in TOS about how the Vulcan way of life is better than the Human one and the fact that she consented to raising Spock as entirely Vulcan hints towards a very strange and interesting woman that I wish would be portrayed/explored instead of the way I normally see her in adaptations which is...Slightly Sad Perfect Mother Figure. Good Woman. Good Emotions Woman to balance out Sarek. Like, to me, these things (the line and how Spock was raised to be ashamed of his Humanity) paint the picture of Amanda going up to Sarek and being like...in the midst of all these Humans he interacts with daily, so singular and interesting because of her outpouring of appreciation for the Vulcan way of life. And maybe Sarek and her speak about it and he finds himself fascinated by this woman and that mix of mutual interest becomes affection becomes love. And then these two freaks put their heads together at a certain point down the road of their marriage and Sarek says y'know Amanda it's SO cool what we're doing here but I think you've pretty much got this Vulcan thing as down as you're going to. You're a marvel and you leave me in awe every day, with the way you were raised entirely Human I don't think anyone else has achieved what you have. But you know what'd be so fucking sick? Let's see if we can raise a child that's half you and half me, a symbol of our bond and our hopes for the future of mankind (that they conquer their emotions and follow a logical path). Let's see how THAT kid handles it. It's fine to have kids that're half science experiment half symbol of the future, right? That won't fuck them up? And Amanda says YEEESSS I'd fucking LOVE to do that with you Sarek. I love you so much. And you know, Amanda is a rather enigmatic character. Why she does what she does, what she wants, how she feels about Spock and Vulcans - they're largely up to interpretation since the episode she appears in becomes very high stress very quickly and people don't always act in line with how they normally do when under that kind of life-or-death pressure BUT what I think is a point of tragedy in Spock and Amanda's relationship isn't that Spock couldn't be Human enough but that these two people couldn't bond about having emotions yet following the Vulcan path. They both view the Vulcan path as being difficult but worth it to follow. It's the path they both chose for themselves, ultimately. Imagine how much sooner Spock may have been able to accept himself wholly if he'd felt able to confide in his mother about a feeling she probably would have understood completely in a way Sarek couldn't - being Human yet alien yet Vulcan. Amanda chose to live with Sarek on Vulcan. Did she feel at home with Humans? Does she feel at home with Vulcans? Or does she exist in the same liminal space her son does? Not Human enough, not Vulcan enough. It's so interesting that Amanda Grayson is a Human being, a Human woman (which would've been especially noteworthy in the TOS' gender politics era) who can be interpreted as having in essence consciously forsaken her Humanity and encouraged her son to do the same. To what end? Was that for love or was it something she'd done before meeting Sarek? Was it lonely? When Spock allows himself to smile very slightly at something, does he look in the mirror and remember his mother's face? Maybe he does and maybe at first he's ashamed. But then he's an old man and it only brings him peace, a tether to a woman he could never really connect to in life.

[22ayla21]

first time requesting im so shy but anyways

fruit salad + Hot chocolate with mydei plzz 🙏

"Fruit salad and Hot chocolate"

Event "Sweet Stories, Intoxicating Feelings"

There was no ostentatious luxury in their home. No gleam of crystal chandeliers, no heavy dark wood furniture, no silk curtains flowing to the floor. But this house always smelled of fruit, spices, and heartfelt warmth. Especially when she was bustling in the kitchen.

Every morning began with a light kitchen bustle. She loved to cut juicy pieces of everything that was in the wicker basket into a bowl: strawberries, pineapple, mango, grapes, apples. Her choice never repeated. Sometimes the salad turned out childishly joyful and sweet, with a pile of cherries. Sometimes – with a barely perceptible tartness of kiwi and orange. And he ate this fruit assortment every time as if tasting it for the first time.

"You know," he said once, "it's... like you."

"What exactly?" she laughed, wiping her damp hands on her colorful apron.

"This salad. You never know what's inside, but every time it's a surprise. Just as cheerful, juicy, unpredictable. Just like my love for you."

She just smiled in response, saying nothing. But in the evening, he noticed that there were slightly more strawberries in the salad – her favorite berry.

Love for him was something fundamental. A duty, a reliable support, something that requires constant work and attention. She perceived it differently – as a fascinating game, as a bold experiment, as an endless feast of flavors. He was like unsweetened tea. She was like a drop of honey on the lips. And together they created something amazing and seemingly impossible, like a dessert made from completely incompatible ingredients, which, against all the rules, became unique.

When a dreary rain began outside the window and the wind angrily rattled the shutters, he would make her hot chocolate. Not from instant powder, no. He carefully melted real bars, added a pinch of fragrant cinnamon, sometimes a drop of delicate vanilla. She would settle down next to him on the sofa, tucking her legs under her and wrapping herself in a soft blanket, and take a small sip.

"How nice," she whispered quietly. "It's as if the whole noisy world outside has gone silent."

And he smiled imperceptibly. It was his way of saying he loved her. Without loud words. Through the warmth of his hands. Through the sweetness of the drink. Through the feeling of her complete safety beside him.

Love for him was like a cup of hot chocolate. Not flashy. Not loud. But invariably warming. Deep and truly homely. There was no room for grand gestures in it, but there was a silence in which their hearts spoke to each other without words.

He watched her laugh heartily when their children smeared their little noses hilariously with yogurt. How sincerely she clapped her hands, rejoicing at the eldest son's drawing, where their whole family was depicted under a large tree. How gently she hugged her youngest daughter, quietly humming the very lullaby that she once sang to him when his anxiety squeezed his heart.

And he understood more and more deeply: love is not just a passionate storm. It's priceless moments.

It's a random strawberry in the morning salad. It's a warming mug on a damp evening. It's her melodious voice, coming from the kitchen as she hums something to herself. It's a coziness that penetrates to the very bones, and the poignant impossibility of imagining a dawn without her quiet breathing beside him.

They argued. Of course, there were storms in their lives too. Sometimes the salad turned out too sour. Sometimes the hot chocolate had time to cool. He might forget an important date for her. She was offended by his silence in those moments when she so needed his words. But even in these small troubles, there was something important – each new day gave them a chance to start all over again. Because love is like a recipe that you perfect day after day. It requires attention, patience, and a pinch of imagination.

When, years later, their children grew up and left their childhood home, and it became unusually quiet, they did not seek noisy entertainment. She still carefully cut fruit for his morning salad. He still slowly made fragrant chocolate for her. And in this constancy, it seemed, lay all their happiness.

He looked at her: a light silver touched her hair, but her eyes still radiated warmth and mischief. And she looked at him: her back still straight, the same calm and reliable hands, next to which she always felt safe.

"You know," she said once, thoughtfully looking out the window, "I never really liked fruit salad."

He was genuinely surprised.

"But why did you make it every morning then?"

She smiled tenderly and touched his cheek with her finger.

"Because you love it. And that means... I love it too."

He chuckled softly. And in that quiet laughter, there was so much lived life, so much tenderness as in their first kiss, in the first timid confession, in every morning "good morning." Because love is not just "I." And not even just "you."

It's always an inseparable "we."

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

Cg!Van x Little!Mel - Accidents happen (no-crash au)

Everyone’s favourite butch babies !! Based on the scene in ep 9 but no crash or wilderness or other bad stuff !!

Cw: shame about accidents, teeniest of tiniest injuries ever

Word count: 1155

——————————

“Peeka… boo!” Van grinned, pulling her hands away from her face and sending Lottie, who was sat straddling her knees, into a fit of giggles.

“Again!” Lottie squealed, clapping her hands.

“Ok, ok,” Van nodded, going to cover her face again but not before casting a quick glance over to the other littles who were running around on the school oval. They’d all decided to stay back after practice so the little’s would have time to regress and play together without anyone seeing. Everything seemed fine, a game of tip had broken out and Shauna was chasing a group of girls across the pitch. Van covered her eyes, Lottie’s clumsy baby fingers reaching out to hold them in place. She was about to uncover her eyes anyway, when a shriek from across the grass had her quickly moving her hands and passing Lottie off to sit on Laura Lee’s lap.

She quickly jogged over to where the sound had come from. Nat, Jackie, Mari and Gen were clustered together in the middle of the field. When Van pushed through them she saw Shauna, standing teary eyed over Melissa who was on the floor - also, with a face full of tears. “What happened here?” She asked, noticing the damp spot growing on Melissa’s denim overalls.

“Didn’t mean it! Didn’t mean it!” Shauna babbled quickly, sniffling as tears rolled down her face.

Van crouched down beside Melissa, putting a firm hand on the distressed girl’s back. “You’re not in trouble, I just need to know what happened.” Realising Shauna was too upset to give answers, Van turned to the others.

“Shauna was chasing Mel and accidentally knocked her over,” Nat mumbled, scuffing her shoe against the ground.

“‘N she had ‘n accident,” Jackie added quietly, as if it wasn’t clear enough.

“Ok,” Van nodded, gently helping Melissa stand up once she’d determined that the girl wasn’t actually injured - only crying from shock. “Let’s go,” She whispered gently, shrugging off her jacket and tying it around Mel’s waist so no one else had to see her accident while they crossed the pitch towards the locker rooms.

Mel didn’t think she could be more embarrassed. Van was so cool and grown up and funny, and now she was helping her out of her wet pants. She felt like her whole body was flush with shame. What made it worse was that this wasn’t a one time incident - she had accidents like this all the time when she regressed. It annoyed the little to no end. Shauna didn’t have this problem, Gen didn’t have this problem. Why did she? “Have you got a change in your locker kiddo?” Van asked, pulling a small bag out of her own locker. Mel nodded and after a little bit of frustrated fiddling with the lock she managed to get it open. She pulled out her spare clothes - her gym clothes. She really wasn’t a fan of the idea of having to put on her sweaty soccer uniform. She tried to cover the tears that fell at the thought of this, petulantly covering her face with her hands. She wished she had her hat which she would usually use to cover her tears but it must’ve come off when she fell. The thought only made her cry harder.

“Melissa?” Van questioned, looking worriedly at the girl who was standing in the middle of the change room with her hands over her face. “What’s the matter?”

Mel crossed her arms defensively. “Stupid…” she whined.

Van sighed, moving to stand beside Melissa and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s not stupid, buddy. What’s the matter?”

“Don’t wan’ wear my un’form,” she mumbled. Van glanced down at the uniform bunched up in Mel’s hand - she knew from experience that it wasn’t comfortable and could assume it was pretty sweaty from practice.

“Alright, no need to worry about that. I’ve got some spare sweats in my locker.” Van opened up her locker again, pulling out a pair of burgundy sweatpants. She also found a spare pair of socks and stole a pair of Tai’s trainers which seemed about the right size. She handed them to Melissa. “Do you need some help?”

Melissa shrugged shyly, “No.”

She immediately took back her statement when she began fiddling with the hook of her overalls, Van quickly stepping in to help her take the damp clothing off. Melissa kicked them off clumsily, pushing them as far away as she could. Standing in the locker room wearing only her striped rainbow baby tee, Melissa should’ve felt more self conscious but Van was so gentle and patient that she couldn’t find it in herself to worry. Van handed Mel some wipes from the bag she’d grabbed before and let the girl wipe herself clean. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, once her legs were clean again and she was dressed in Van’s red sweatpants and a pair of clean socks and sneakers. She felt like a baby. A stupid crybaby who couldn’t even use the bathroom and it was so embarrassing.

Van cut into the mental turmoil with a gentle smile and a hand on Melissa’s shoulder. “Kiddo, there’s nothing to be sorry about, ok?” Melissa looked down at her feet, feeling tears well up in her eyes. Oh, no, no, no, she didn’t want to cry in front of Van again! “Do you wanna go back out and keep playing?” Melissa sniffled, rubbing at her face. She did want to keep playing because tip was fun but also she didn’t want to face the other girls. Melissa shrugged. “Ok, how about you come sit with me for a little bit.”

Van held Melissa’s hand and took her back to where Lottie, Laura Lee and Tai were sitting on the bleachers. It was a little bit scary because they were all varsity players but so was Van and Van wasn’t scary. Melissa sat between Tai and Van, neither of them made a comment about her accident. Instead, they asked her about her favourite dinosaurs and let her play peekaboo with Lottie.

When Melissa saw Shauna coming over, she couldn’t help but lean into Van’s side for comfort. Shauna stopped a little bit in front of Melissa, rocking back and forth nervously on her toes. “I’m sorry for hurting you,” she whispered, looking down.

“It’s ok.” It really was ok - she hadn’t even been that hurt, just a bit embarrassed.

Shauna held out Melissa’s hat which she hadn't even noticed was behind the girls back. “Thought you’d want this back.” Melissa nodded eagerly, taking the hat and quickly putting it back on her head. She felt a lot better with it back. “Would you come play with us again? We can play puppies or, Uhm, whatever else you wanna play. Jackie says it’s ok.” Melissa nodded eagerly, all previous hesitancy gone. With an excited smile back at Van, she ran off with Shauna to join the others.

[heartz4levi]

pssstt..looks around..looks at you..slowly opens my hand and presents to you..till alien stage nsfw alphabet..fem reader..eyes twinkle..

illuminate the night, breathe into my soul !

☆ thinking abt till + nsfw alphabet . . .

☆ till (alnst) ,, fem reader . . mostly dom!till and sub!reader ,, mentions of reader taking control at times ,, a lot of sex talk ,, i think there's a considerable amount of choking mentions in this one. oopsie.

a — aftercare :

till always gets a little bit bashful after he finally cools off, the adrenaline slowly pooling out of his system. he cleans you up silently, touching you so gently as if your made of glass before slipping underneath the blanket next to you.

b — body part :

till likes his hands. he has created art with them, they're skilled and he knows how to utilize them in many ways. one of said ways is being able to reach deep inside your cunt with his long, lithe fingers and knowing how and where to curl them up to have you white—knuckling the sheets below.

till likes your eyes. he can always see your true emotions through them, and truthfully, he does get lost in them more times than he can count. plus, they're pretty — no, scratch that, they're captivating.

c — cum :

till's cum always comes out in long, thin ropes. the consistency is not too watery but not too sticky either and the most prominent thing to note about its taste is the saltiness.

till will cum anywhere you want him too, he'll even stuff your greedy cunt full of his seed, but he actually really enjoys cumming on your stomach. in other words, painting your skin a sheer white. once an artist always an artist.

d — dirty secret :

has thought about how deep his fingers can reach inside of himself on multiple accounts.

e — experience :

close to none. till is a virgin when you first get your hands on him and his knowledge is quite limited. he knows what porn is, has watched a little bit before but it never quite resonated with him. same with erotica novels.

f — favourite position :

till likes any position in which he can hold you. no matter how he's folding you, when he's on the brink of cumming till is always wrapping his arms around you and pulls you as close as possible.

he also likes to sink his teeth into your shoulder or collarbone whilst cumming, but that's unrelated.

g — goofy :

one, till has never been good at cracking jokes and two, he views sex as a very intimate thing. safe to say he's quite serious during sex.

if you're the type who likes to pull a few stunts though, till won't hold back the breathy chuckle that escapes him in response. still, your unseriousness does not deter him from his goal of making you ascend to the heavens. figuratively, not literally.

h — hair :

till is nicely trimmed, puts in just enough effort. is scared shitless of waxing.

does not care if your pussy is completely hairless or if you have a bush. pussy is pussy and he's a sucker for it, but he's also a sucker for you.

i — intimacy :

like aforementioned, till views sex as a very intimate thing. if you're in his bed and you're not just hanging out, that means that you've dug your way into his heart because he would not let anyone get in his pants if he doesn't trust them with his life.

j — jack off :

couple times a week, mostly just quick wanks to get himself off enough. doesn't have a penchant for edging himself.

after getting together with you, for some reason he started resorting to devouring your cunt whole like a madman instead of actually having sex. it gets him off though, so.. mission accomplished?

k — kink :

is till afraid of pushing you past your limits and/or hurting you? yes. is he also into choking? yes.

most of the time he'll only do it lightly, apply enough pressure for you to feel it, but not for it to cut your breath short. if you want him to squeeze harder he will, but it'll take him a little bit of time to adjust to and get comfortable with the change.

l — location :

prefers doing it into the comfort of either of your homes. mostly bedroom, does enjoy shower and bathtub sex but that isn't the chosen location as often as the classic bed is.

might only fuck you in a secluded public space if you're really desperate. if he were the insanely desperate one, he'd be begging you to go home.

m — motivation :

this really is just outing till and his praise kink but nothing gets him hard as a rock as you expressing that whatever he's doing, he's doing it right.

tug at his hair and shove his face further into your wet cunt when he's on his knees for you and till will both cum in his pants and make you see stars until you're numb and shaking.

n — no :

till doesn't like to share and he also doesn't like public sex. although he is into light choking, he is generally iffy about anything else that might cause you harm.

take slapping or spanking as an example. if you're persistent enough he might give in, but despite having a heavy hand, he will not use that much force.

o — oral :

absolutely loves giving oral, but that has been made obvious already so no further elaboration.

when it comes to receiving, till likes that too. the sight of you kneeling before him alone has his eyes rolling back, so imagine what sucking him off does to him. all in all, still prefers giving.

p — pace :

either really slow and loving or ruts into you like an animal. no inbetween. it depends on his mood, but mostly on what your preference is.

even if he's had a stressful day, till will not reassemble your insides to the shape of his cock if you're not into rough sex. end of discussion.

q — quickie :

not a fan. rarely ever engages in them, regardless of whether you're into them or not.

since the two of you mostly have sex within the privacy of your home, most of the time when you're having sex you're having sex. not a quickie.

plus, he would rather wait hours to be able to savor you instead of pulling you aside and sheathing his cock inside your cunt for like five minutes just for the sake of getting off.

r — risk :

already went into detail about how iffy till is when it comes to semi—public sex and inflicting any pain upon you.

meaning, not a big fan of risks. might indulge once or twice a year if you're a risk taker.

s — stamina :

till's stamina isn't bad, but it's also not unparalleled. on average, can go for two to three rounds excluding foreplay.

if, somehow, you aren't satisfied when he has run out of stamina, till will let you use him to your liking, but do expect him to be out of commission for another round or two until he regains some semblance of energy.

t — toys :

doesn't own toys, not much into using them either. till is good with his hands, mouth and dick, what good is a toy?

however, he isn't against you using a toy on him. will not be the one to pitch the idea but won't put up a fight when you bring it up either. is actually quite eager.

u — unfair :

till isn't much of a tease.

sure, maybe he'll toy with your cunt when you're at your most desperate to cum just to hear you whine and to see you look up at him with teary eyes, but it won't be long until he's giving you what you want.

v — volume :

grunts, groans, whimpers, everything. unfortunately, till hides the sounds he makes quite often, hence why he likes to bite your shoulder or collarbone when he cums.

the only time till can't coneal his sounds is when he's overstimulated. tie him up, gag him and get to town on that dick, the moans and whimpers that slip past his lips are to die for.

w — wild card :

doesn't like inflicting pain on you, refuses to acknowledge the fact that he gets so painfully hard whenever you're rough with him.

slap him, leave marks, call him names, do whatever you want. a deep blush will creep onto till's face and he'll be leaking pre like a damn fountain.

x — xray :

long like his fingers with a decent amount of girth to it. till doesn't have the biggest cock, but it stretches you out just right and curves a little bit which provides some more pleasure.

veins? veins. not many, not too prominent, but they're there and you love them regardless. or not?

y — yearning :

till isn't the type who would want to have sex with you seven days a week. he wants it, but not that often.

he can survive plenty of days without nestling his cock inside your cunt, but don't leave him dry for too long or else he will get extremely clingy to make up for the lack of sexual attention that he's getting.

z — zzz :

will wait for you to fall asleep first before he follows suit, but till has fallen victim to the sweet embrace of slumber and fell asleep before you a couple of times.

do not tell him though or else he will feel utterly humiliated. will curl up into a ball and try to disappear.

[hehe-69]

Bonfire part 12

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

WARNINGS: ANGST, BELLA’S RAVIOLI PREGNANCY, SAD BOI JACOB BUT ALSO SOFY BOY JACOB, THE CULLENS, WOLFPACK, FIGHTING, READER RELIVING TRUMA, THIS STORY IS ABOUT TO GET HEAVY

Summary: The weeks that followed Bella’s wedding were spent without worrying about whether or not she was okay or alive. You and Jacob decided that you have both spent far too much time worrying and fighting for Bella’s safety and happiness. That it’s coast you and him your own.

So, you and him let her go, and focus on what you both have. A family and friends who care about you and would fight to protect your happiness.

But, as you learned form a young age…nothing good ever lasts.

And you’re once again, just another background character in Bella’s life story. And it coast you everything.

Tage list: @coldonez

——————

You and Jacob were together when you found out Bella was back in forks. You demanded to come with him to see her. But nothing could prepare either of you for what you’d see.

———

“Oh my God Bella.” She can’t even stand up on her own, she’s so weak and fragile. Impossible slim like a skeleton, he face is sunken in like someone on their death bed and pregnant beyond belief. “How is this even possible?” You whisper out in disbelief, you don’t even process Jacob’s words or what is going on around you. All you can focus on is how Bella looks barely alive, she’s been gone for a month tops and she already looks as pregnant as a women 7 months pregnant.

You have seen a dead man before, and Bella looked like she was right on the edge of death. You didn’t even want to look at her eyes, too afraid that they would be like his when you found him. This cannot be happening right now.

———

Edward convinces you and Jacob to try and talk Bella our of following through with the pregnancy. “If you really think anyone can talk Bella Swan out of a decision she’s made.” Your voice is quite but full of rage that’s barely contained. “Then that just proves how little you truly think of her. She’s stubborn and fierce about her choices, no one can talk that girl out of anything.” You feel yourself tear up. “But she is kind and loving and she had a normal life before you came along and FUCKED IT ALL UP!” You leave after that, Jacob follows, mentally hyping you up. Then Jacob let’s you know he’s going to still try. So you go with him.

———

Bella won’t some much as budge, she wants this baby. Not because it’s Edward’s child or because it’s a product of their love or some bullshit. But because it’s hers, and it makes her realize she wants to be a mom. And this might be her only chance to get to be one before she changes. You hate it, but it’s enough to convince you to be on her side.

Bella never wanted kids, not after he experience with Ranee. But this child, she’s willing to die for, that’s a mother if you have ever seen one. You’ll respect her choice, even if it mean you’ll have to watch at the life slowly drains from her body. She asked you to stay, to be there for her. And damn it all, damn your loyalty and the fact you still love her like a sister. You can’t watch he eyes lose their light, you can’t go through that again. Jacob leaves the house, angry and upset and needing to cool down. You understand, and so you sit and wait, like you always have.

It’s there, on the steps of the Cullen’s house, that you realize once again you’ll be on the sidelines. A faceless character in the messy love story of Bella’s life. You feel isolated, alone, waiting and wanting for someone to finally see you. See how deeply you want Bella to just wake up and see what her actions do to others. You know deep down, that everything you’ve worked so hard to keep, the family you have found, this love you finally let yourself believe you deserve is about to be ripped out of your hands.

Just once, you wish you could finally have a win. You wish you could sit in silence and peace and not have to be on the edge of your seat waiting for it all to be ripped away.

Most of all, you wish you could just have your dad. You wish you could cry to him, ask him for help because he always had the answers. You pray to whoever will listen, begging them to not take away this life you’re finally getting to live, you finally want to be present in your life. You don’t want to lose what you’ve gained, you found someone to belong to, you found a family to love and now…now you know it’s only a matter of time before you lose it all. Again.

For so long you have had nothing, no one, no answers and no family. And right when you find where you belong, life decides to send a semi truck to plow through it all.

———

The pack is torn, Jacob left in order to protect Bella. Seth and Leah are the only ones who came along. You can feel yourself slipping away into nothingness, shutting down to survive what’s to come. But Jacob catches it, before it’s even begun.

“Hey, hey,” Jacob is whispering, hands on your shoulder, those warm and grounding hands. You look into his eyes. “We’re going to be okay, we’ll get through this…I promise. Whatever comes, I’m not going anywhere.” You want to believe him want to let yourself trust that he’ll be there for you. He’s your glue, he holds it all together, you can’t lose him, not to Bella or…or to the pack. You tear up. “Jacob, I’m so scared…what the fuck are we going to do?” You choke out a sob and Jacob pulls you close.

Warm like the sun. Like the light that shines down on you when everything else is fading to black. Jacob holds you close, and you can feel how lost he is too. You can feel the pain of the situation weighing him down.

You both had agreed to stop bending and contorting for Bella’s sake. Now look at you, you’re taring yourselves apart to keep her safe.

———

You take the role as primary caretaker of Bella right next to Rosalie. She reminds you of Leah in some ways. For a bit she hates your guts, but as you both care for Bella, you and her begin to form a bond.

Taking care of Bella reminds you of the weeks before your father’s death. The weakness and fatigue, how you can sees her spine and bones. She’s so small and fragile, it takes all your energy to keep it together most days. You don’t ever leave the Cullen’s house, you can’t leave because the pack has the place surrounded.

Some nights, you mange to sit outside and cry, one such night, you feel an impossibly warm body hold you as you cry. It’s not Jacob, but Embry Call.

“What-“I could hear you crying, we all can. I don’t want to do this Y/N. I can’t kill a baby, and I can’t sit by and let the others do it either.” Embry looks tired, and sad, so deeply hurt. “Quil wouldn’t follow.” And he starts crying, and you hold him, the both of you cry together.

“I’m so tired Embry, I wish we could just go back. I missed you so much, I miss everyone so fucking much.” You sob out and cry even harder. You have never seen Embry cry, and he’s sobbing right next to you. “I know, I never thought things would ever go this far.”

———

You’re not sure when it happens, but eventually you hollow out. You’re in a zombie like state where you feel nothing, just go through the motions. The only times you feel real is when Jacob is next to you, holding you close as you listen to his heartbeat.

The days drag on, and every one feels worse than the last. Bella is suffering, the baby is breaking her bones and sucking the fucking life out of her. And all you can do is watch. You’ll survive this, but you will never recover. Bella and you are sitting on the couch as she rest with her head on your lap. You’re slowly and carefully running your hand through her hair.

“Can I ask you to promise me something?” Bella whispers out, softly and smoothly. “Of course.” You say, and it scares you how foreign your own voice in your ears sounds.

“If I die…can you promise to take care of her. To love her and keep her safe.” Bella’s words kill you a little more inside. She sounds so scared, not for herself but for her baby. Who she now believes is a girl. “I know itll be hard, and I’m so sorry for putting this burden on you. But it’d kills me to think of her alone, and scared.”

“Bella…I’ll be there. Of course I’ll be there for her.” Your voice is shaky and cracking as you speak, weeks of hardly ever speaking and the raw emotions you feel making it so. A new hole is torn through your chest, raw and bleeding. “I love you so much Bella, you’re the closest thing I have ever had to a sister. Even though we’re not as close as we used to be. I’ll never forget you. But you’re not going to die, you’re too stubborn dor death.” You crying silently, and so is Bella as she laughs wetly.

“I want to be more than just someone’s dead mom. I want her to know how much I love her. I’m not sorry for doing this. But I’ll never forgive myself for what I’m doing to you and Jacob. If I die, I want to do it with no regrets. I’m so sorry for everything.” Bella is trying so hard to keep it together. “I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t care. I just got so wrapped up in this life. I should’ve never abandoned you like that.” She sobs softly. “Not after everything you’ve done for me.”

You and her cry, and you’re horrified that Bella Swan will not survive. She’ll die before getting to meet her daughter, she’ll die right when you and her have made amends. You’ll never get to see her be a wonderful mother that she’s capable of becoming.

——————

DWAG NEXT PART IS GOING TO KILL ME!

This is basically Bella Swan being an actual good mother and kind soul. I’m trying to get though this part so reader can FINALLY BE HAPPY WITH JACOB!

Next part will be more detailed and honestly a lot harder to read. I’m sorry but this is the part of the story where reader gets WRECKED. Baby has so much held back truma and it’s all going to come to light. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure that I will make up for all the pain with love and fluff.

I hope you cried because I did.

As always feel free to request what you’d like to see in future parts.

Thanks for reading

Love ya🫶

Part 13 is going to take a lot longer for me to write so it’ll be better and more gut wrenching

[buckybarnesslutshop]

In the clouds ☁️

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader

CWs: reader described as “his girl” once but otherwise kinda gn, no description of reader sex (anatomically), Natasha and Wanda mention once, Tony Stark mention, discussion of mental health, almost tooth rotting fluff, dissociation, few kisses, reader is an avenger, anxiety, Bucky sings and to me that’s canon, back massage, Bucky’s arm can be warmer bc i said so, pretend the song came out at a logical time! (it kinda does), Bucky has 1 dirty thought, Bucky takin care of you :\>

Pet names used by Bucky: Doll, Princess, Love

Pet names used by reader: Love, Buck

A/N: this is self indulgent some, and on that note, the description of dissociation is based on MY EXPERIENCE ONLY. Don’t forget we all experience and need different things. Anyways I thought maybe I’d throw in some fluffy writing today, I hope you all enjoy and maybe it’ll make you smile 😋

Summary: Reader occasionally suffers from dissociation as a symptom of her anxiety disorder. Good thing Bucky always seems to notice. Set in Avengers tower.

——————————————————————

It was already later in the evening when it had hit this go round, though sometimes you just woke up like this.

The world around you felt a bit hazy, and your concentration just seemed to be out of reach. Luckily, training was in the morning today, and there were no meetings to be had. It was quiet in the tower, mostly. Well. Unless you count the movie playing in the common area where the majority of the team sat. Your head sat on Bucky’s shoulder while you watched whatever “amazing action” movie Tony decided you all must watch.

It wasn’t the movie, or the long day, or even the darkness. Dissociation just hit you at random times. You felt it suddenly onset, similar to when you take too many puffs of smoke off a joint at the beginning of a smoke sesh, or when the 5 shots of vodka you downed back to back hits you like a freight train half an hour later. You sat up, almost a bit suddenly, before trying to play it cool by sinking into the couch.

Bucky noticed, how could he not? He thought maybe something in the movie surprised you, he wasn’t watching anyways. Stark wasn’t known for the best film taste.

But as you sat back, still rigid, Bucky soon recognized the slightly far off look in your eyes and the way you blinked rapidly.

Not even 10 minutes later, you excused yourself, and something along the lines of “headed to bed…” mumbled out of your mouth. Bucky followed. No one really paid much mind, they knew you were together and Bucky was attached at your hip most of the time. Nat did, however,

share a glance with Wanda, both having a general understanding of how your disorder operates. They made a note to check on you in the morning.

You didn’t notice Bucky trailing after you, though subconsciously you knew he would. When you walked into your bedroom (it may as well have been your shared bedroom, Bucky really only went to his for any items he didn’t keep in yours) you had almost shut the door in his face.

“Doll.” Your head snapped around, almost surprised to see and hear him. You had been too out of it to notice. He saw that same look in your eyes immediately: that far off, dissociated look. He had seen it many times before. You would have cried if you were connected enough with your senses for it. He quietly shut the door behind you before walking toward you, gently pulling you into a hug.

You leaned into him, most of your weight behind held up by him at this point. You let out a deep sigh of frustration, and then inhaled his scent in some futile attempt to ground yourself.

“Not feelin’ great? The dissociation stuff happening?” You nodded, humming. Bucky didn’t quite understand how it all worked, but he could at least understand the general feeling, as it wasn’t too far off of what he felt when the memories began to sneak into his mind too deeply.

He pulled back, and you almost stumbled before he swung an arm underneath you to carry you bridal style. You looked up at him, and he down at you. Your eyes, he noticed, were still of course somewhat far off, but had a little tint of love and gratitude that matched your slight smile.

“Thanks…” you mumbled.

“Of course, love. Anything for you, you know that.” You hummed in response again, energy not quite there, and you looked away, almost as if you were looking at something in the distance. You leaned your head against him as he lead you to the bathroom and sat you on the counter.

“What… what’re you doin?” You said quietly.

He turned the bathtub faucet on, running a warm bubble bath before coming back to you.

“Takin care of you, princess. Don’t have to do a thing, just let me. You only need to tell me what is or isn’t helping.” You nodded, smiling fuller this time. This was always how Bucky handled it, but it still amazed you to see him love you so wholeheartedly like this. You always felt so taken care of, so special to him.

“There’s that pretty smile” Bucky said, his smile matching yours. He kissed you, lightly and sweetly.

He had undressed you both before settling the two of you in the bathtub. Thank god Stark had made the suite bathrooms stupidly and unnecessarily large. It was like he knew…..

You closed your eyes and rested against him for a few minutes before saying “Buck. it’s too quiet, I need some sort of noise.”

He hummed for a second, before quietly beginning to sing. His voice, though deep and almost a bit gravely, was beautiful. It always felt like he was singing right to your heart.

“Cathedral bells were tolling

and our hearts sang on

Was it the spell of Paris?

Or the April Dawn?”

You loved these moments most, when Bucky sang for you. He never sang for anyone, a talent he kept hidden from before Hydra had taken him. The song had sort of become yours, and he sang it on rare occasion, often before or after being separated by missions for longer periods of time. Once he told you that he knew the first time he heard it, he knew he would sing it for his girl one day. He never sang it, however, until one day, he knew it was meant for you.

“Who knows

If we shall meet again

But when the morning chimes

ring sweet again”

You looked up at him to see him already looking down at you. You simply stared into his eyes, the love in your eyes matched in his.

“I’ll be seeing you

In all the old familiar places

That this heart of mine embraces

All day through

In that small cafe

In the park across the way

The children’s carousel

The chestnut tree

The wishing well”

He paused for a moment, kissing the top of your head. You nuzzled a little deeper against him.

“I’ll be seeing you

In every lovely summer’s day

In everything that’s light and gay

I’ll always think of you that way

I’ll find you in the morning sun

and when the night is new…

I’ll be looking at the moon

But I’ll be seeing you”

You blinked slowly, finding sleepiness overcoming you some. You still felt like everything was a bit far away, but at least you weren’t feeling anxious. In fact, you felt the calming love radiating from you both.

“I love you,” he whispered, still looking down at you.

“I love you too.”

——————————————————————

Once you were both dry and dressed in your pajamas, Bucky had sat you on the bed.

“Do you want a massage, doll?” He asked, voice still quiet. You perked up some, nodding with a mumbled yes. You turned to lay on your stomach.

He grabbed the lotion from the top of your dresser drawers, the one scented like your favorite flowers. He took some in his hands, and once his metal arm had warmed up some, he began to massage into your upper back and shoulders. His metal arm, with its lovely heating and cooling function, made it easier to relax your muscles so that he could work out all the knots. The strength of the arm helped too, especially in your shoulders. They were often riddled with knots, even just days after Bucky worked deeply at them.

You let out a soft moan at the feeling of the knots being rubbed out. While Bucky’s first reaction was less than pure, and he felt himself twitch, he didn’t falter and kept going. Right now, this was about you and what you needed.

He moved down your back, and your arms as well, before moving to your thighs and calves. Eventually, he massaged out your feet, and he noticed a quiet snore come from your mouth. He finished soon, before needing to wake you back up.

You whined, and you grumbled something incoherent at him. “Doll you have to take your medicine. Just gotta be awake for a few minutes, ok?” Your eyes fluttered open, a grumpy face meeting his. You mumbled an ok. Your eyes still looked distant, but Bucky knew once he got you to take medicine and sleep, you would feel better in the morning.

Once he got your pill bottles out, and retrieved your emotional support water bottle, you took your medicine without fuss.

You both settled after, and Bucky put your phone on charge before turning on your favorite sleep playlist and turning the volume to a quiet level. You both crawled under the covers, lights being turned off, and you both inhaled the smell of each other. For some reason, it always relaxed you both.

Once comfortably in his arms, your head on his chest, you looked up at Bucky. He felt you move, and looked down at you. The moonlight from your window illuminated you just barely.

“Thank you, love,” you said, though barely getting it out. “Thank you so much. I love you.”

“I’ll do whatever you need, doll. Always. I love you,” he said. You readjusted, nuzzling back into his chest. His chin rested gently on your head. That was the last thing you remember before falling asleep.

[naturecalls111]

The way you color is absolutely phenomenal! Looking at your latest Naruto piece I’m just absolutely astonished by how the colors all work together. If you could give any recommendations for tutorials for a fellow artist I’d so appreciate it!

Keep up the amazing work 💕

~pudding 🍮

Wow, thank you so much!!! That’s so kind! I’m very happy you like it! To be entirely honest I’m still learning how to colour—a lot of what my process is right now for colouring is just… vibes. I play around with it until my brain is like ‘I like this’, and I haven’t really watched many tutorials for colouring (I should…) so my best point of reference is to see how an artist you likes does colour and experiment on your own canvas to see how they achieve that. Studying and experimenting is a huge part of the learning process, and finding what works for you specifically.

The simplified version of my process is that I paint with colours that act as the general idea of what the base colours are, and then play with curves to lower contrast + darken. I did a very quick example of what that looks like with this Naruto chibi:

This is what curve setting I use on procreate (it’ll look a little different when I do it on clip studio or photoshop, but the points remain the same. First dot is brought down a little, second dot is brought down a little, lol):

(usually I play around with curve settings a lot depending on the piece, but again the variation is based purely on what itches my brain. I just try to maintain that the curves, for me, lower contrast and darken the colours.)

For shading I will often desaturate+darken the flat colour, but I 1000% go in with a more saturated tone in between the shading and the flat colour, and over the course of painting and colour picking, it just ends up being this amalgamation of colours that work together since they are MOSTLY within an analogous range. Does that make sense?! I’m a terrible teacher, LOL!

If you’re interested in slightly more details of my process, I will say that when I do have a background, that colour is usually the first thing I put down onto my canvas. I will fill in the lineart with a darker version of that colour and then start getting a basic idea of shading down before doing any colouring and rendering just to see how the general composition will feel. With the narugaa piece you mentioned, it looked like this (ignore all the white around them, this was going to be more type-heavy before I realised I hate doing text LOL):

It’s not quite just shading, but the goal is to find the values that I would be happy with seeing throughout the piece and on this hue+value of background. Also, at this point, I’m drawing with the assumption that if I were to do this completely monochromatic, the values would look like this, ya know. And then afterwards, like I depicted in the simplified version way above, I lay down flat colours. In this case, my colours were laid down on a layer that was on the “hard light” blend mode, but I think you should just do whatever blend mode gives you the colours you like best. From here, if you combine layers so that it’s a normal layer, then just playing with the curves should get you the effect that I usually work with, but this is what those base colours looked like in my case:

You can skip this part if you feel you’re good enough at colour picking, but it helped me personally with laying down colours. I did curve adjustments + new blend mode (pin light) so that I could play with complimentary colours in a way that would add some “flavour” to the drawing later. In this case it was this greenish+reddish colour for Gaara and yellowish+purple/bluish colour for Naruto (I know his skin looks more pink/red than anything but it’s significantly more cool toned, which is what I was considering for colour harmony/relationship):

I did most of the painting over these colours before using a lasso tool to pick out specific areas and change the curves to be the Actual colours of the characters, but you can mostly tell what sort of colours I maintained from the previous version vs which ones I changed. I really do think this made for more interesting visuals, but I also think it’s sort of a convoluted process that you can just do from the get go if you have a better grasp of colour theory than I do. Unfortunately I’m not knowledgeable enough about colour to get colour harmony just by picking out the colour from a wheel. This is why I love curves so much!!! Anyway, this is what it came out to:

And then I duplicate the canvas so I can merge all the layers into a single one, and then do the final curve adjustment to make everything feel cohesive. I mostly used the curve adjustments that I showed in the very beginning of this post, but because so many of the colours in this piece felt analogous, I actually valued slightly more contrast in this piece than I would want for most other pieces. Posting the final piece here for convenience:

And that’s it!!! I’m super mega sorry for how long and convoluted this probably is LOL but this is my process……. I’m certain other artists have better tutorials and I will always recommend Sinix Design on YouTube for ANY art tutorial that you might need, but if I’m being entirely honest, anything I know of colour is entirely just me consuming a lot of art over the years and going ‘oh, I like that’ or ‘oh, this is a pattern between these two artists, so it must be right’ or ‘oh, this random artist posted a tutorial and it looked good, let me glance at this and hope it somehow subconsciously sticks’ LOL. There are definitely fundamental rules that would help to know (shadows will usually be less saturated, deciding between high key vs low key composition as far as your value scale goes, what sort of emotion each colour combination/scheme evokes, the power of tints and shades) but a simple google search on basic colour theory will already explain most of this to you. Passively implementing these practices into your drawings, in my experience, helps make a lot of these rules second nature when you’re drawing. Above all though I think you should just do whatever itches your brain LOL. I have a huge reference library that I often refer to—I recommend any artist to do the same :3

[turkeygirl47]

pre crash travnat the first few times they interacted small glances short convos

thank you so much for the ask <3 (did i write this instead of studying? yes...)

The first time Natalie saw Travis was during a soccer practice. It was her sophomore year and she’d just barely joined the team. She didn’t even want to play the sport, really, but her parents insisted. Being able to go home later was always a plus. And her teammates were nice, too.

Coach Martinez was strict, but everyone on the team didn’t mind. He pushed them to be better, and they were good.

She’d just gotten acquainted with her teammates the first time she saw him.

“Who’s that?” Natalie pointed to the bleachers, panting from the high knees she’d just endured.

“Travis,” Lottie hummed beside her. She didn’t even seem tired.

“…Who?”

“Coach Martinez’s son. Have you never seen him before?”

Natalie shook her head, eyes glued to him. He was hunched over, staring at his feet with an annoyed expression. Feeling her eyes, he raised his head. Natalie looked away so quickly that she nearly got whiplash.

The first time Natalie spoke to Travis, they were in history class.

They’d been in that class since the start of Natalie’s senior year, but she never said a word until they were assigned to be team members in a group project.

She’d seen him around, of course. Mainly on the bleachers during practice or in the hallway. She heard the rumors about him too. Coming from personal experience, she could deduce that they weren’t true. Still, she saw the way people would tease him.

Travis reminded her of herself.

After Mrs. Scott had paired them together, Natalie was the only one talking in their conversations.

“So, we have to present on this topic, right?”

Travis just stared.

“We’ll need to prepare a speech. You have notes, right?”

He huffed, hesitating before he nodded and reached in his backpack.

“Alright, cool. We can start with that, sort of outlining the whole thing.”

After a week or two, she was able to coax at least two sentences out of him. She’d gotten frustrated occasionally, snapping when she shouldn’t have. Travis would retreat inside himself and Natalie immediately felt bad.

She wasn’t sure why he was so withdrawn, but she could think of a few things. Maybe he had trust issues? The person who started the ‘Flex’ rumor knew him well enough. Though, Natalie had seen him with his friends. He was always more outgoing, laughing and shoving them around.

Maybe he was high? She knew he dabbled, but she didn’t know how much. Maybe he wasn’t against smoking right before class. Or drinking.

Still, Travis was a mystery.

And despite everything people said about him, Natalie wanted to know more.

[angstfactory]

The sheer absurdity of whatever that man just said, brought Jesse out of that confrontational instinct as he stared at him with an expression that quite obviously should be read as: what the fuck? "What in the hell do you even mean by that?" he had to ask, head cocked to the side like an affronted dog, as his brows furrowed together in confusion. "How the fuck do those two scenarios relate to each other? Why would someone who drives 'round with shit that ain't necessarily common or regulation, be the same person that'll ask for a manager?" Seriously, the mental gymnastics of that statement completely sidetracked him a moment. "One is gonna tell on the other, not be the same person." And obviously, if either one of them were going to be anyone in that scenario... Jesse was the first, and this idiot here was the tattletale. Clearly?!

After a moment, he seemed able to get beyond that. "That sounds like a 'you' problem, man." Jesse only shook his head. "You needa work on mindin' your own business — it works wonders in not givin' a fuck what anyone else is doin'." He spoke out of experience, of course. Did people annoy him regardless? Sure, plenty. But the point was, if the guy kept to himself, none of this encounter would even be happening.

Despite the other coming in closer, Jesse stayed as he was, sitting on the edge of the tailgate with the two wieners roasting over the drum fire. "That's cool," he only nodded about the other's philosophy to the type of man — nay, loser — he was, before looking him dead in the eyes, "I mean, ya really laid it all out there for me... I'm gonna come away from our chat as a new man that's definitely gonna pause n' do some serious self-reflectin' 'cause... I care deeply what ya think of me." This was said straight, almost even with a believable sense of earnestness, yet it was clear these words were meant to mock the other man's attempt to shame him. Jesse thought this concept of some code was ridiculous. All that did was give this guy some false sense of security that he was better than Jesse. Whatever helped him to sleep better at night.

"Oof, right in the heart," Jesse said, idly gripping a hand into his chest as if the man's shoot down about his looks truly wounded him. "I guess my ma lied 'bout me bein' the most handsomest boy in all the land." At this point, he was having more fun annoying this prick than anything else. The guy made it so damn easy, too. Hell, Jesse would even say this person was itching for more problems than even he did. "Well Jack," he said in a softer tone, as he turned the wieners over so they didn't burn, "I ain't movin', so I guess you're gonna have to ruin the movie for both of us." Though, if he was being honest, he didn't actually want to ruin his own night with this stupid bullshit, either. A fight here ran the risk of getting them both banned from the place, and that would piss him off to no end. Jesse could be sensible, sometimes. "Or," he propositioned then, reaching over to dig inside the ice chest and pull out one of the chilled glass bottles of Budweiser, "you can just take this n' we'll call it even." Jesse held the bottle out to him.

"You drive around with a grill and a bag of wieners in the back of your pick up but I'm the one who looks like I ask to speak to the manager? That feels kind of anti blonde but we can explore that at another time. And what's it to me? I don't know man, I'm sitting here, enjoying myself with this nice view that I got because I was here early and along comes you to make your presence known, not just by your truck, no cause that's not enough, you gotta have a grill going just to make sure everyone really knows you're here. It's fucking annoying is what it is, and I am not a great fan of being annoyed." Maybe if he was drunk he would've just thrown a punch and not thought about it but he wasn't really trying to fight this guy, he just wanted him to either move away or leave completely. The latter would've been ideal but he wasn't the drive in police, he just wanted to be at peace.

Shawn let out a laugh and ran his fingers through his hair, not at all surprised that the guy just kept going on. "You're right, my mom didn't teach me shit, never met her. And I am a loser, have been all my life. But even losers like me have a code, you're the worst kind of loser. The kind of loser who's an asshole just cause he can be. That has nothing to do with parents, that's all you." He took a step closer, this time rolling his eyes the more the other spoke. "Please, don't flatter yourself. I've seen the dudes around here and I can guarantee you that you don't even make the list. Look, I don't give a shit about your barbecue but you need to move. I was in this spot with a clear view, you almost took off my bumper and honestly, I'm two seconds away from ruining this film for both of us. So why don't we save a fight and you move out of the fucking way." He knew that it was unlikely to end there but he didn't care anymore, if they were gonna fight they were gonna fight.

[sunshineandlyrics]

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 🎉 The Killers showed the last few minutes of the match where England beat the Netherlands and they all celebrated with Mr Brightside (the London O2 Arena, 10 July 2024).

Louis would strongly approve this!

[mochasucculent]

Was looking at refs and since Viktor has two different leg braces I was wondering, do we think he wears them simultaneously?? The refs don't perfectly line up perspective-wise so it's hard to tell but parts of the one he wears during the Hexcore scenes look like they could maybe line up with the brace that he wears over his clothes, but also some parts really don't and look like they'd be super uncomfy. Also HOW does he take these on and off. Experts weigh in

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[teophan]

a fantastic commission from @themetalhiro of my Dungeons & Devil Fruits 5e Sniper Marksman, Vinsmoke “Starfall Gunner” Beretta!

it was an absolute treat to work with you, looking forward to the next opportunity to do so!

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 6: Happy Ending

[psychomusic]

oc time again! + her town & culture (heavily inspired by pre-roman italic populations)

she is suri sauthon. her story is linked to my swtor imperial agent, tar'x, but most of her life except for the one year away where she meets him, is spent in a town in the mountains of mirial.

despite mirial being cold and desert, and many cities developing underground, her town flourishes thanks to a force nexus, venerated in the form of an ancient, sacred, alive crystal. the ecosystem of that mountain depended on what "the horned crystal" was capable of giving them, but mirialans couldn't live off of that alone, so they developed trade and some rudimental technology, even if oftentimes it was bought thanks to the highly profitable trade of a plant used to make medicines that slowed down aging and had overall healing properties.

note: everything that's generated by this nexus has these healing properties BUT they have to be processed, except for those who bathed in the waters of the cavity under the crystal - the "real" nexus, but not the worshipped one. the waters were sacred but they were not thought to be miraculous, unlike the crystal, who instead was thought of as the keystone of the ecosystem: without it, everything would fall apart (and that is partially true: the cavity was the "real" nexus but thanks to the crystal, also strong in the force, the properties were spread all over the mountains). those who bathed in the cavity's waters - so, all of the town, who had a sort of baptism there - could eat the plant, make whatever food with it, and not only that plant, but everything generated by the nexus, that, again, had similar properties. this allowed people to live up to normal life-spans without advanced medicines or, much, really. to those who didn't live there, though, after the processing, had incredible effects, slowing down aging - for those who took it regularly - and making people able to live up to half a century more than the average]

originally, there were four tribes of nomads that lived thanks to horned farm animals that decided to settle down into one bigger town and other smaller settlements, to live off of transhumance. this division of the tribes stayed into the political and social organization: every person belonged to one tribe specifically, and had slightly different rituals and culture. for examples, each tribe had their own priests and healers, with different techniques and traditions. the town, tho, was guided by a group of people in the high priesthood, a position you could reach only by having earned the trust of all tribes. those high priests had many roles: they guided the people into sacred processions common to all the tribes, they managed the trading with outsiders, they did the maintenance of the temple of the summit (the one that functioned as casket to the crystal) and created a special liquid to offer the crystal that helps it grow.

this particular temple was important because 1. it was very visible, from every angle of the town, and it became an important identity symbol; 2. it stored the venerated horned crystal; 3. it had the altar where sacrifices were made for the crystals. that altar had a hole connected to the cavity, that allowed the liquids to reach the underground; 4. it had various symbols: statues representing each tribe + the high priesthood, and typical mirialan tattoos carved into the wood of the trees that served as columns for the temple, symbolizing 8 values that who dared to enter HAD to have; 5. it was on the way to an important lake (called "mother lake" because the lake the town was built around to depended on the waters of that other lake) where they traveled to in important processions; 6. it was said that a the wizard who unified the tribes made it with its magic, making the plant grow to hold the temple's roof. this wizard was, actually, a force user, obv.

BACK TO HER THOUGH: she's daughter of one of the high priests, who was in charge of managing the trades with outsiders, and lives in a house on the mountains with her mother and him. her parents are from different tribes (that's one of the things that earned him trust from the 4 tribes): when a child is born from two different tribes, they don't pick one to allign to, but they're usually linked automatically to the one with more relatives in it (in her case, the father's tribe: she had many uncles and aunts on his side while her mom only had one sister).

later, though, she got quite tied to her mother's tribe due to a mysterious illness that only her mother's tribe healer was able to cure. she spent 4 years (from 10 to 14 years old) living with the healer and learned her secrets. to better study, she wrote them down. when she returned home, she studied to become a priestess with her father. at 22 (the average age: you can't become priest before your 20s), she was supposed to take a test and become a priestess, but the healer of her mother's tribe died and the tribe asked her to take her place. she couldn't technically do that, but both tribes estimated both her and her parents and she was allowed to become both. she then decided to try to become a high priestess, and became one at 25 (a quite young age). being part of the council, she tried to convince the various tribe healers to unite their knowledges and write them down, and eventually made it. healers still remained tribe based but they now had an "upper, inter-tribe level" similar to high priesthood.

years later, the sacred horned crystal is stolen from the temple by some Hutt mercenaries looking for a profit. given the trust she has earned from all the tribes and the fact that her father is the high priest that deals with outsiders (and she's been hearing stories and advice about it since she was little), she is the one tasked with getting it back. without the growing crystal, the keystone to their ecosystem, the village would have lasted only a few years. in hrr quest, she meets imperial intelligence agent tar'x laran and, as they "solve the mystery" and fight to have it back, they get closer. they'll get married and have a daughter, Vegoia (who's the only one who actually will get to the plot of my story. this was all background)

[electropneumatic]

"Zero tolerance machining" NO!!!!! I am going to kill you. This doesn't exist. It's a stupid phrase. For advertising or whatever. If you genuinely think you've achieved "Zero tolerance" you have a #metrology #skillissue. I'm going to kill you. What's next, huh? When your machines advance even more? Negative tolerance? Short-sighted marketing. Just say the tolerance, that should be impressive enough. Regular people think "5 thou" is crazy, you will be ok. You don't need to lie about the world.