#i wrote too much

[mamayan]

The urge to just post a long ass fic without editing it—

#I don’t wanna edit #I wrote too much #I sit in a grave I dug #Yan needs to stfu #Yan has a knife 🔪

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Hi, enjoying your blog. Do you know anything about the rumours re Harry and SA and battery. It was talked about a few weeks ago, but now silence. I realise investigations take time, but am wondering if this is something that will be swept under the carpet. Also the rumour that Meghan helped cover up the latest assault, so if it did go further, she also could be in serious trouble!

Hello! Those are such good questions.

I have heard those rumors and I am tracking them. It’s kinda difficult to do anything else with them because there’s so little information out there. But specifically to your submission, I think you’re asking three questions: 1) what do you know about these rumors? 2) is this something that will be swept under the carpet? 3) what could happen if this get out?

Here's the TL;DR. If you want the longer analysis, check out what's below the cut.

What do I know about the rumors? Not a whole lot. I think there's a lot of truth to most of them. There are a couple I'm skeptical of (details below the cut, but consider this your trigger warning for discussion about assault and violence against women) but I think most of them are plausible.

Will this stay swept under the carpet? I don't think so. This kind of dirt always comes out. It's a matter of when, not if, and it's probably going to be the court that exposes Harry (and Meghan, if she's involved).

What could happen if this gets out or Meghan is involved / implicated? She's toast. Done. Depending on the severity, she could see anything from civil settlements worth millions to jail time and loss of custody of her children. Her reputation is over regardless. There's no clawing back to even the Z-list after this is said and done unless she can spin it onto Charles and William (which I doubt, but we'll see).

1) What do I know about these rumors? On the surface, I don’t know much more about the rumors than what the rest of us do so I can’t make a definitive judgment yes these rumors are true or no this is bunk. But based on my experience tracking rumors about the Sussexes, I think there’s a lot of truth in them.

(I just wrote a 7-page dissertation in Word explaining my process for how I analyze rumors and theories to determine how plausible they are but I don’t think anyone wants to read that.)

But the TL;DR of that 7-page paper is that these rumors about Harry meet all 8 out of 8 evaluative criteria which usually means “it’s a matter of time.” Do you know what else meets 8 out of 8? The surrogacy rumors.

Quick aside - These are the 8 evaluative criteria:

Is it a topic or a hashtag?

How fast did the topic appear and how quickly did it go away?

What is the poster’s username? (This tells whether it’s a real person behind the account, if it’s a fan account, or if it’s a bot.)

How diverse is the poster’s account/post history and how often are they posting?

What is the quality of information and the level of details in the post? (Is it clear and specific or is broad and vague?)

What kind of language is being used in the post? (Is it direct and straightforward or is it flowery and descriptive and have clever wordplay?)

Is it the same story being told or are they similar stories?

Signs from the universe (I know, this one is cheesy)

If anyone wants to read about this totally unscientific and very judgmental process, let me know and I'll post it.

That said – I’m a little skeptical of the rumor that one of Harry’s assaults was so bad it resulted in a permanent physical disability. I would not be surprised if that one turned out true (given his behavior with the polo ponies). I am also equally unsure of the one that implicates Meghan in the cover-up only because it’s only come up that one time (that I’m aware of, whereas the rumors about Harry have come up several times from different sources) but likewise, I would not be surprised if her involvement also turned out true (given the shadiness in her past and how quickly the conversation disappeared from social media, which implies that there was an intentional effort behind the scenes to interfere with or manipulate the feeds to suppress the story).

2) Will this continue to be swept under the carpet? I don’t think so. I’m fairly certain that we are going to see something happen in public that confirms these rumors. To use an analogy: the horse is getting antsy and Spare opened the barn doors.

This is where I lean on my background. I may or may not work and live in a certain swampland that has nice shiny white buildings and a nice belt made out of gridlock and I may or may not have experience in certain kinds of intelligence research and information-gathering. If there’s anything anyone should know about the people who live and work in this region, it’s that we’re finely tuned to the bullshit powerful people peddle and the games they like to play.

What everyone here will tell you is that this kind of dirt, if it’s true, always has a way of coming out. Always. Sometimes it only takes a couple of days. Sometimes it takes years. But the trash will always take itself out.

And the interesting thing about this kind of dirt is that it’ll be the American court system that release it. Ironic, isn’t it? That the couple who loves litigation to protect their privacy will see their privacy undone by litigation. Cosby, Weinstein, Epstein, Maxwell, and Heard were all undone by the courts too, and I have no doubt that if Andrew continues to reopen his case, he’ll get undone by the court system too. Remember – Meghan and Harry have already been exposed twice by the court; it was a court proceeding that made Meghan publicly admit she lies and it was a court proceeding that gave us the clearest proof Harry leaks to royal reporters (Russell Myers’ articles about RAVEC had to have been sourced by someone involved in the lawsuits and it wasn’t anyone from the government’s side as those discussions are most likely considered matters of national security).

But there are also signs to pay attention too, outside of your familiarity with slimy people. Is mainstream media talking about it? How high-profile are the people that are talking about it? Are there any powerful high-profile people involved or implicated? Have there been any “flashbang” distraction stories from Montecito? Or my favorite, what do the tarot readers say?

The tarot readers and the astrology readers are all saying something happens this spring that really rocks the Sussexes’ world and that March is a very key month for both the royal family and the Sussexes. So quite possibly, March could be when something happens. Will it be about these rumors of Harry’s behavior? No idea. We’ll have to wait and see.

3) What could happen if this gets out? Danger, Will Robinson!

Like I said earlier, this kind of dirt will always come out and the bigger the cover-up, the more people that are involved. The more people that are involved, the more dirt that will come out. The more dirt that comes out, there’s almost a near certainty that someone somewhere is sitting on hard, physical, incontrovertible proof of wrong-doing and whoever that person is, they will release it to save themselves. It’s their get-out-of-jail card.

If Meghan is involved in the cover-up of any of Harry’s assaults and she’s not the person with that evidence implicating everyone (or someone) else, it’s going to be very serious for her, like you said. I can see her suffering worse than Harry. Harry can be pulled out by Charles using diplomatic immunity. So can Meghan, if they wanted to, but it’s been made quite clear that the Royal Family isn’t interested in having Meghan back. So if Harry gets pulled out, Meghan’s left holding the bag and if Meghan’s holding the bag, then depending on the severity she could lose custody of her children. Do they go with Harry on diplomatic immunity? Does the court take them and give them to Doria, who’s the only other relative they know? Or does Charles claim custody because of that one old law stating the sovereign has custody over his grandchildren? But that’s an essay for another day. (And another essay is all the rumors about Doria and what Tom Bower may be writing about her.)

And as far as jailtime goes, it depends on the extent of the cover-up. If all she did was falsify documents or pay someone off? Slap on the wrist. Maybe a couple months and she'll get time off for good behavior or overcrowding - in this case, probably Doria will get the kids and the BRF won't fuss because they've got Harry to contend with. But if it turns out that her involvement in the cover-up contributed to something like permanent physical disability as a result of delayed medical treatment? Probably a couple years and an enormous civil settlement, and a custody fight that sees Doria give the kids to Charles in return for money.

However if Meghan is the one with that get-out-of-jail card evidence implicating others, then it won’t be as bad for her. Probably just enormous fines like Amber Heard got that wipes out Meghan’s cash flow. The BRF will probably pay the cash for the fines/settlement as part of the divorce settlement and they'll make it so Meghan gets no other money from them. (I presume that if she gets alimony or child support for the children, the BRF will lock it up tight in a trust that can only be used for their care with strict rules.)

But, yeah. Meghan is canceled toast no matter what. If these rumors are confirmed, whether she’s involved in covering something up or not, she’s still guilty by association and by having some kind of knowledge that Harry was like this. She staked her professional reputation and royal/philanthropic career on women’s empowerment and feminism. People are going to use her speeches against her. She can kiss her political career goodbye. Her Hollywood connections will ghost her faster than Casper. Her endorsements and sponsorships will shrivel up. Her philanthropy rebranding will be dust in the wind. Her speaking career is done.

(As for Harry's role in all this, all signs point to him going back to the BRF under a conservatorship-like deal that Britney had that heavily manages and controls his existence.)

#anon #submission #i wrote too much

[thegirlwhowritesfics]

The Two Summers You Loved Me, and The Winter You Weren’t Around

Part One 

Summary: Pennys niece is passing through town and just happens to meet a handsome mechanic when her car breaks down, Summer romance brews but everything isn't quite what it seems.

Authors note: This part contains smut, R18+ scenes, please do not engage if you are not over the age of 18. thank you! This is also turning out to be much longer than I had originally planned so thanks for sticking around. 

Summer arrived somewhere between midnight kisses and days spent on what you had come to think of your own private beach. You don’t know why you were sneaking around, but you knew eventually summer would end and you would have to go back to the real world. And as for now, all you wanted was to keep Bradley all to yourself, locked away deep within your heart. 

When you weren’t with him, you were with Penny and Amelia, relaxing on the beach, sailing, and eating your way through the ice cream parlours 78 flavours. It felt comfortable, it felt like home, well at least as close to home as you had ever felt. 

you were lost in thought as you helped Amelia do the dishes after dinner one night. “Eliza” Penny says with a smirk on her face waving her hand in front of your eyes. 

“Shit” you jump “sorry, lost in thought” 

“What's their name?” Penny says with a wink. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about '' you reply, swatting her with the tea towel. 

Waggling her eyebrows at you she just smirks “so as I was saying, Amelia and I are heading up to San Diego this weekend, do some shopping, check out the museums. Want to join us?” 

Your heart drops, you would love to spend the weekend with your aunt but your time with Bradley is so short and weekends were the only time he wasn’t working. 

Penny watches you closely, her smile widening “do you know what? Why don’t you stay here, enjoy the peace and quiet” she winks as she takes the tea towel out of your hands. 

“It's not that” you start. 

“I get it kiddo, I do, enjoy it” she tells you turning to lean against the kitchen counter “alright, the dishes can wait, who wants ice cream?” 

“Me” Amelia exclaims racing off to her room to grab her shoes. 

Laughing, you and Penny shake your heads watching her leave. 

…

You straighten the table setting for what seems like the hundredth time, checking the clock again. It's still five minutes until Bradley said he would arrive. You check the pasta you cooked and pace around Penny’s living room trying to shake off your nerves. 

A knock at the door startles you, as you race open to open it. 

“Hey” you say casually leaning against the door frame, your heart racing. 

“hey beautiful” Bradley says stepping inside “something smells really great” 

“Thank you” you reply beaming up at him, you shut the door following him inside, watching him as he takes in Penny’s living space, the setting sun drifting in from the open curtains giving him a soft glow. 

“You’ve outdone yourself” he says walking over and wrapping his arms around your waist, his face dipping in and nuzzling into your neck. 

“Why thank you” you say wiggling out of his grip “why don’t you go take a seat while I grab everything” you quickly serve up the lasagne and salad that you prepared earlier and pull the garlic bread out of the oven and place everything on the table. Bradley pulls out your chair and you take a seat 

“why thank you” you say smiling at him as he takes the seat next to you. 

you both fall into conversation about your days, you telling him about Amelia‘s last minute attempt to kidnap you to take you to San Diego with them. and him telling you about work at the mechanic shop. After dinner Bradley helps you clean up the kitchen and stacks the dishwasher. 

You nervously fidget with your rings sitting at the breakfast nook watching him, as he wouldn’t let you help clean up. 

“Do you want to come back to the guest house and watch a movie?” you stammer, trying to calm your nerves. ‘Eliza pull it together, it’s not like this is your first time’ you think to yourself. 

“I would love to” he walks around the counter slipping his hand into yours, helping you out of the chair, dipping his head and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

You close up Penny’s house making sure all the doors are locked and the lights off before heading out the back door. You double check the lock and Bradley tucks you under his arm as you two walk down to the guest house. 

The way Bradley breathed against my mouth as he kissed me was the most intoxicating thing I had ever consumed. His body pressed against mine, one hand snaked around my waist, the other tangled in my hair, tiny growls escaping between heated breaths as my fingers traced new places over his shirt. He gently pushes me down on the bed, my body suddenly feeling empty without his touch. Kneeling down in front of me he removes my shoes, pressing a kiss on the inside of my left ankle, then my right. His lips like fire against my skin, as he trails up my thighs pushing my dress higher over my hips. 

His lips pressed against above my belly button, his brown eyes hazy as he looked up at me, like a man who had found his saviour, my hands stretched down tangling in his hair, my hips thrusting up into him, desperate for more. Bradley leaned back and the loss of his touch had a whine escaping my throat. A smirk filters across his face as he unbuttons his shirt, and makes quick work of pulling his belt off and shorts down, before I know it his body is back over mine, pulling me into him, as he pushes my dress over my head. The softness from earlier is replaced with a mutual hunger, my hips pushing into his rock hard cock, his silk boxers and my cotton underwear the only thing separating us. Our kisses grew more frantic as he swivelled his hips against my pussy causing me to cry out in pleasure, my nails digging into his back. 

“Fuck, Eliza” he moans into my neck “I need you” 

“I need you too” I groan, desperate for more. 

Bradley’s body pinning me to the bed, he licked, sucked, and bit every inch of my body, kissing me with nothing but a deep need and longing, my hands pushing him lower, desperate for a release for the friction that's been building. My fingers gripping his hair as he finally pushes his mouth into my wet pussy, my underwear completely soaked. 

“You’re soaked for me, aren’t you” he says looking up at me, his fingers lightly tracing my lips. 

“Yes” I barely manage to get out. 

“So needy” he says so approvingly as he slowly pulls my underwear down, the cool air hitting my core making me tremble. He pushes my legs open wide, taking all of me in before opening me up before slowly licking me up and down, teasing every part of my pussy, my moans growing louder with each flick across my clit. 

“You taste so fucking good” he groans as he slips a finger inside of me “are you going to cum for me?” he asks as he inserts another finger, my hips jerking upwards with the pressure as he starts to finger fuck me. 

I nod unable to form words. 

“Such a good girl” he tells me with that cocky smirk before sliding back between my thighs and rolling his tongue across my clit, and that's where he stays until endless waves of pleasure roll over me, and every single inch of my body is trembling and I am moaning his name over and over like a prayer. I don’t think I’ve ever cum this hard in my life, every inch of my body feels alive. Bradley slides up my body, littering it with kisses, his lips on the nape of my neck, nibbling on my ear “I love when you scream my name like that” he whispers. 

“Do you want to hear it again?” I ask him licking my lips. 

“You are a wicked girl” he says smirking at me as I push him flat on the bed and slide on top of him, gripping his thick hard cock in my hands, lining him up to my entrance, my juices coating him as I slide down his length slowly. Bradley’s hands gripping my hips guiding me up and down as I adjust to his thickness. My head rolling back “fuck” I groan “So fucking sexy” he says thrusting up into me, his hands gripping me tighter, as they slide around my back and he flips me so I am flat on my back, wrapping my legs around his back, he adjusts himself to thrust deep inside of me, and my body starts to tremble all over again, starting in my toes and building up. 

“That’s it, come for me” Bradley tells me as he grips my hips pushing himself deeper, my nails digging into his back knowing I am going to leave a mark and not even caring, waves of pleasure rolling over me as Bradley moans my name in my ear, his lips pressed into my skin, our bodies becoming one as we cum. 

Afterwards Bradley collapses to the side of me, pulling me in close, his fingers laced through mine, his lips pressed to my neck. 

“You okay?” he asks, smoothing my hair back, peaking around to look at my face. 

“Yeah, I’ve just never had…” my voice trails off, not able to describe it. 

“Sex that intense?” he asks. 

“Yeah” I say embarrassed. 

“Same here” me murmurs in my ear, pressing a kiss to my temple. 

“Do you need a drink? A shower?” he asks, gently rolling me over to face him. 

“A shower would be nice” 

“I’ll go get one started” 

He slips out of my bed and I watch as his god-like naked body walks across to my bathroom before disappearing around the corner and I hear the water starting. 

A few minutes later he reappears, scooping me off the bed. 

Laughing I swat his shoulder “what are you doing? I can walk” I exclaim. 

“Yeah but why should you when I can carry you?” he tells me, as he places me in the shower, stepping in behind me and shutting the door. 

“I suppose you're going to wash me too?” I say jokingly. 

“If you insist,” he says with a wink.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfic #fan fiction #i wrote too much

[itsmeyaboidreamoftheendless]

The Winchesters is just about how war affects children, huh? 

John: The very start we see his PTSD and he has several panic attacks several times. He was 17 when he joined the marines. I saw some say it was because he’s just a violent person and I disagree with that, I think that John was searching for some sort of structure that he lacked. Also considering he was raised by a single mother in the 50s-60s they probably didn’t have a lot of money and couldn’t pay for him to go to college (friendly reminder that women weren’t allowed to have their own credit cards until 1974, 2 years after the show takes place and 4 years after John enlists). The US military loves to boast that they will pay for peoples college if they enlist. When John gets home he’s immediately thrown back into another war. He is never given time to adjust back to normal life. 

Mary: She was told her entire life that it is kill or be killed. Her parents never comforted her, never told her that they could protect her, they told her that she needed to protect herself. And this isn’t because they know about the supernatural. When John says he’d afraid of the monster under his bed Henry doesn’t give him a weapon or train him to fight. Henry tells John that he knows how to trap the monster, letting John know that Henry can protect him, that John doesn’t have to worry. Henry wasn’t going to tell John about the supernatural until he was ready. Samuel and Deanna didn’t they told Mary everything before she was ready. They dragged her into a war that she had no choice but to be apart of.

Carlos: He had no intention of being part of the Vietnam War but he had no choice, paralleling how he became a hunter, he had no choice. Carlos has a very similar experience to my grandpa. He was also in the Navy during the Vietnam War except he was on a submarine looking for other submarines. Same as Carlos he was looking for something that was looking back at him. Carlos knew about the supernatural before he went into the Navy, there was some part of him that was used to knowing that there are things watching you in the dark, but there weren’t monsters watching him in the dark like he was used to it was just other people. They were just as scared as he was. This is where Mary’s war differs between Carlos and John’s because they weren’t fighter monsters, things that were objectively bad and trying to destroy the world, they were other people and to them Carlos and John were just as much monsters as they were to Carlos and John.

Lata: She’s a pacifist because she saw what war did to her father and didn’t want to be like him. She also saw her country quite literally be divided. Lata talks about how war affected her country and that war is obviously Partition. She is Northern Indian which is confirmed in episode 3, it’s not said what part of north India she’s from but she would have still grown up very close to the Pakistan-India border or Bangladesh (then East Pakistan [even though the show takes place in 1972 and Bangladesh became independent in 1971, it would have still been East Pakistan when Lata still lived there])-India board. Lata was most like not alive in 1947 when Partition happened but was still a witness to it affects when she was born sometime in the early 50s.       

#supernatural #the winchesters #winchester #john winchester #mary winchester #carlos cervantez #lata dar #latika dar #dean winchester #sam winchester #i wrote a lot #i wrote too much #i wrote this at 2am #i started at midnight and finished at 1am #i stared crying

[babygirlhq]

The Boundary

“It’s the crybaby curse-breaker from Kardia!” it said. “I remember your promise to me, that you would destroy me all by yourself.” Its oblong head sagged back, its mouth gaping open as it shrieked in delight. “Destroy me, then!” it giggled. The entity’s cloak dissolved into the dusty wings of viridian moths, erratically fluttering towards Tristan by the hundreds. They landed on him, pinpricks of blackened sludge staining wherever they touched as they scuttered up his neck. “How is that brother of yours? Especially after that nasty fight you started? He was fun to corrupt, but hardly special enough to be worth remembering...” it mused. “But if you want to find him so badly, I’ll give him to you! Don’t you want to see him before he forgets he was ever human in the first place? It happens to all my pet monsters, you see! Just one, measly drop of your weak human blood and poof. Do you really think you can destroy me before he gives in to the curse? Allow me to grant your wish and bring him to you now, no worse for wear than the day you scared him off. ” The Boundary approached him again. “I want...just a piece of you,” it whispered. An outstretched hand reached for where Tristan’s heart should be. “I want it so badly, I swear to grant your wish.” As if stung, The Boundary recoiled back. It slowly disintegrated into darkness, leaving him alone in the nightmare where illusions and old memories lurked around every corner. “Won’t you...accept my offer?” 

.

The darkness that enveloped his surroundings was unnervingly welcoming. Tristan didn’t know how he ended up there, nor did he remember what he’d been doing before this. Everything was rather blurry, both his sight, and his thoughts. He sat up, eyes catching a strange movement by his side before he looked down, watching the ground ripple as if it was water while his hand moved closer to his body. He lifted one of his hands up, palm out, eyebrows furrowed once he saw how he wasn’t necessarily wet at all. Fingers curled up into a fist, nails pressed into his palm, the sensation numb. Even with his mind being blurry, Tristan had quickly come to the conclusion that this was a dream. He’d experienced lucid dreams before, but none felt as real as this one. 

And none included a shadowy cloaked figure approaching him before, either. Perhaps it wasn’t even a dream, but something much worse. His hand was placed to the ground on each side of his before he struggled to stand up, the water-like ground encircling him with small waves at the sudden movement. That was when he noticed that none of his usual equipment was on him. Not his dreamstones, not his book, nothing. And with the figure approaching closer, bringing a chill up Tristan’s spine from the dreadfully cold aura it had, he couldn’t help fear starting to overcome him. 

Once it was close enough, Tristan was practically trembling. Not because of dread, although that had a part to play in it, but from the absolute enmity that rose in him once he drew the conclusion of what he was about to face. There was a low rumble as it spoke. He couldn’t register it as a voice, as it was more transcendent. He heard it all around him, and inside, it was everywhere, and yet nowhere. Tristan froze, petrified unable to pull his gaze away even though it was starting to hurt as he looked. It was mocking him, for he was a mere ordinary mortal. Less than an ant in its ever-seeing eye. 

How could he ever think that he could go up against such an entity? Doubt overcame him, humiliating him, devastating him as those thoughts ate away at his immobilized state. There was no way that he could ever learn to be strong enough to fight this thing, let alone destroy it. He was a fool for promising himself such a thing. He was a fool for thinking he could ever save his brother. He could never be strong enough. Such thoughts gnawed away at his insides, rage and fear welling up as tears in his eyes, overflowing and running down his cheeks, leaving a warm streak of wetness on his cold skin. 

The cloak of the figure turned into a swarm of dusty winged little creatures, and with a gasp and a wince, Tristan finally had control over his body again. He stepped back, arms lifting to cover his face from the moths, yet their dark stains found their way there still. 

It was the mention of his brother that had him turning to face it again. It brought up the worst of his memories, the screams, the curses, the names they called each other, how they hurt each other. The amount of negative thoughts and emotions it was attacking Tristan with overwhelmed him completely. Thankfully though Tristan wasn’t just any other mortal man with a traumatic past. He could use the only thing that got him through hard times. He could use his head. 

“Don’t you dare speak about my brother.” He finally spoke, his own voice sounding almost like a stranger’s in such an atmosphere. All those doubts came back to haunt him, but the thought of his brother twisted those doubts into something more hopeful. Surely, he couldn’t destroy it alone. But he wasn’t alone. Nor was he at his best yet. This wasn’t the end. He would make sure of it. His promises still stood. The one for the Boundary, and the one for his brother. And he wouldn’t break them.  “If you think I would accept anything from you, you are mistaken!” He finally spoke, his voice sounding like a stranger’s in such an atmosphere. 

He seemed like he was alone again, although he didn’t feel as such. It was actually something he hadn’t felt in a while. As if he had a shadow following him everywhere. Not in a scary way. In a comforting, warm, secure way. As if he had his brother beside him. And when Tristan turned his head to look, he was looking right at his twin brother. And his twin brother was looking right at him. Smiling. Not a care in the world. Messily rolled up joint in one hand, the wheel of a car in the other, singing their favorite song. They were on their way to the lake near Kardia. Everything was going to be fine. The car wasn’t moving. They were in the same dark space he and the Boundary were before. 

Blood. He only had to blink once, and it the smile on his brother’s face was turned into an expression of distress, lips quivering from fear as blood poured down the front of his shirt. Tristan didn’t remember this time so clearly, it was always spotty whenever he tried to think back. How the Boundary could’ve scraped it out of his conscious was a mystery. Finding memories even his own brain wouldn’t let him see. Tristan shook his head, leaning in to put his hand on his brother’s wound that came from the bite, pressing down hard to stop the bleeding. 

He yelled his brother’s name out, and it all changed again. Well, his brother changed. Tristan was still standing in that dark space with the ground that moved like water, and he had blood on his clothes, and his hands, the black stains of the moths from the Boundary’s cloak were still on his face, as well as the rest of his body. His twin brother was yelling at him. Telling him to let it go. To let him go. To quit trying to save him. His brother was telling Tristan to think of him as dead. He asked Tristan to mourn him. The “No...” that came out of Tristan was coarse, as if he’d been screaming for hours. “I’m going to break your curse. I promise. Are you listening? Even if I have to destroy the Boundary all by myself, I will. I promise!” 

Then came something he hadn’t remembered either. It was his brother, but it wasn’t. The desperation in his eyes, the life in his eyes gone, his irises red, teeth bared. Humanity gone. He leaped at him. Tristan didn’t know what to do, he was caught under the sharp teeth and the claws of his brother. He was pushed and fell onto his back, the air in his lungs knocked out of him as he tried to fight his brother off of him. There was only the sound of Tristan gasping for air, whimpering, and the sound of teeth clanking together over and over again as his brother was trying to bite him. Tristan was sobbing, begging his brother to stop, not wanting to hurt him and at the same time, scared and heart-broken over having to see him in such a way. After a minute or two of wrestling, he managed to push his brother off, and he turned to crawl, then stand up and run away from him, the space they were in seeming to have no walls or edges. He had to stop this. He had to get out of this, the Boundary couldn’t win. 

This was a dream. This was a nightmare. It wasn’t real, and he wasn’t in control, but it was happening in his subconscious, so the Boundary couldn’t have been completely in control either. Think... Think, Tristan. He didn’t even have time catching his breath as he could hear the growling and the heavy panting of his brother behind him. His legs were starting to hurt. He needed something against this. He had to wake himself up. He slapped himself, harder than he thought he would, dark stains, blood and tears mixing together on his cheek. Think! Every idea that came to mind had to do his magic, but he didn’t have anything to channel it with, he didn’t have... a dreamstone. All he needed, was a dreamstone. And what could be easier to summon in a dream, than a dreamstone? 

Tristan kept running, his lungs burning, his legs cramping, but he didn’t stop. He squeezed his eyes close, remaining tears dropping from his cheeks as he concentrated on a small gem to appear in his hand, pushing out any doubts in his mind, in his core, and believing that he was good enough for this. He was strong enough. He could get out of this. 

There was a small prickle of a gemstone in the center of his palm, and the next thing he knew, Tristan was running through a field. A familiar field in Kardia. And as he opened his eyes, the sun was glaring down at him, and he could see their family cottage in the horizon. He heard his eldest brother’s name called. It was his mother’s voice. Tristan stopped running. He wasn’t out of breath anymore. He turned around, seeing his brothers, his parents, all waving at him to come home. It wasn’t exactly the best dream to conjure up as it brought bittersweet emotions out, but... it wasn’t a nightmare, at least. Tristan nodded to himself, holding his hand up with the dreamstone sitting in his palm, and his finally cracked a proud smile. “I did it...” His brows furrowed, determined, hopeful, and he looked up at the sky. “You can take your offer... and shove it up your arse!” He yelled, then threw the dreamstone far into the field before he turned on his heels to run towards his family and enjoy the dream he’d made for himself before came the dreadful awakening.

#tw: drug mention #just a teenie bit #tw: blood #I wrote too much

[anxiously-kk]

on the one hand i’m glad not to give cbs money but on the other i wish cbs let canaidans watch feeds because i can only know what’s happening based on how people chose to present situations and what if i see someone who’s spun things unfairly or left out info. so if i’m miss interpreting things i’m sorry!

that being said i don’t get why everyone thinks taylor is gonna blow up for being put otb it doesn’t sound like she’s like that. but also like if she did get mad so? who actually takes being the target well? are you telling me all of them plan to just vibe with it when they get nommd and like thank the hoh or something? like i’m not saying get physical or personal but being unhappy or even angry* is valid

*especially given the reason/way she’s being targeted like don’t want anger don’t antagonize and exclude people lie about them and target them for nonsense like duh she’s mad?

#bb24 #ill eagle feeds aren’t worth the trouble #i wrote too much

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

When You Least Expect It | Chapter VI

Moon Knight 2022 | Marc Spector x F!Reader | Steven Grant x F!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5406

Total Story Word Count: 20,357

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

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On AO3 Here

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Whew. Another chapter out. I stayed up way too late to type this up. I recommend reading on AO3. It’s under the cut, but the italicized words didn’t get transferred over. Bleh. 

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OOOOO

Navigating, through the tomb of Ammit, was no easy feat. In fact, you're fairly certain you got turned around a couple times before realizing the tomb was laid out like a maze. Thankfully, Steven had picked up on how the tomb had been designed and was able to guide you all through it.

As you walked through the corridors, you were enamored with the ancient artwork and hieroglyphics on the walls. Each hallway telling a story. Then as you approached an open room up ahead, there were scratch marks on the wall. You couldn't make out everything between your flashlight and the destruction, but the hieroglyphics you could decipher heeded a warning.  

Steven and Layla were each surveying the room up ahead, while you were still trying to figure out the writings on the wall. Layla was looking at all the ancient artifacts in the room, and Steven had been deciding which of the two hallways to take next. There was enough light emanating from the room that you didn't need your flashlight anymore. Putting it away, you stepped back to get a better look at the writings. You crossed your arms in front of you, leaning against the wall behind you.

"Hey, Steven? Can you come over here for a mo?" you called out, inclining your head in his direction, while keeping your eyes trained in front of you.  

"Did you find something?" he asked, ambling over.

Steven was easily excitable. As you passed through each section of the tomb's maze, he'd have this wonderous look in his eyes. Like he couldn't believe he was actually present, witnessing all this history. You only wished you were down here under better circumstances.

"Maybe," you turned to him, leaning a shoulder on wall, "I think I've translated some of the messages on this wall, but it's mostly garbled from either time or destruction." You pointed to the markings and then the large scratches etched into a majority of the middle section. Pushing off from the wall, you motioned him to follow, "I think it's some sort of warning, but I'm not sure. Was hoping you could take a stab at it."

"Well, let's take a look-see, shall we?" he said, moving towards the section you pointed out.

You watched as Steven raised his hands and followed the hieroglyphics back and forth, muttering to himself. Not wanting to interrupt him, you stepped back and let him work.

"I think you might be right," he said, lowering his arms and twisting his head to look at you.

"If I'm translating this properly, the message says, 'Beware of the Devourer of the Dead. Go no further or risk the judgement of your heart on a lake of fire," Steven read out slowly.

"Devourer of the Dead. That's Ammit right?" you asked.

"Yeah - yeah. Ammit goes by many names, but that is one of them, which makes sense, since this is her tomb. The Egyptians were trying to ward people off from venturing further, so she wouldn't be discovered," Steven explained, moving his hands animatedly.

"And the 'lake of fire' bit? What's that?"

Steven rubbed his forehead in thought, "Uh, I believe there were once stories that Ammit would take your heart to the center of a lake. But the lake was no ordinary lake, but one of fire. Once your heart was judged, if you were unworthy, she would eat your heart and leave your soul to burn, forever remaining restless."

"That all sounds.....really horrible," you drawled.

"Right well, that's why we're trying to stop Arthur from releasing her innit?"

You hummed in response, agreeing with him.

"What's the room up ahead?" you motioned towards Layla, starting to walk away from the wall.

"Sacrificial room."

You blanched at Steven's assessment.

"Lovely," you deadpanned.

At the entrance to the sacrifice room, you watched as Layla was taking a few pictures for research purposes. You stopped Steven before you both were fully in the room, "Hey, by the way, what happened back there?"

"Back where?" Steven questioned.

"At the dig opening. From my viewpoint, it looked as if you punched yourself in the face and then tripped forward down the shaft without repelling down."

"Right, yea - s'nothing," he said, eyes darting around, looking anywhere but you.

"It definitely wasn't nothing. You can tell me, I'm not going to freak out on you," you assured him. You knew what happened, but you wanted confirmation from him.

Steven sighed before meeting your gaze, "It was Marc."

"Why" you clenched your jaw, slightly agitated.

"He was upset that I kissed you."

You raised your eyebrows, "Upset?" you said in disbelief.

"Yeah - uh, we may have had an argument about you earlier," Steven said.

"About what?" your tone clipped.

Steven rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "He just didn't want me kissing you, s'all. Getting involved so deep into all this."

You swore you saw Steven blush, but with the warm lighting of the tomb, you couldn't be sure.

"Well, you can just tell him to shove it. It's my life, my choice," you replied.

"Oh, I did. He's been in angry all day," Steven said, pausing briefly before continuing, "I think he's also upset with you too."

You reared up at that, "Marc's mad at me?"

"Yes - no. Not directly? He's mad about the discovery that you can talk to Khonshu and see him. He really went off earlier. Like, completely mental. I'd never heard him so upset," Steven rushed his words out.

"Great. Well, you pass along a message to him that I'm pissed at him too!" you grouchily voiced.

Steven canted his head towards his reflection on the far wall before shifting back, "Yeah, Mr. Grumpy Pants heard you. He's really miffed he's not in control right now," Steven said to you grinning.

An inhuman scream came from inside the sacrifice room. You and Steven ran into the room immediately searching for Layla. She was on the far side of one of the tables in the room, silently crawling around.

Having entered the room so frantically, you caught the attention of your new visitor. The person was dead, well undead, since they were half decomposing and partially skeletal in figure.

Lifeless eyes shifted to you and Steven, letting out another high pitched screech in retaliation of the intrusion. Your jaw had slackened considerably. A zombie. You were staring at a literal zombie. Holy shit. Just when you think you've seen it all.

The undead creature jumped towards you both. Reacting, you and Steven peeled off to opposite sides of the room.

You dropped the canvas supply bag and then swung your backpack around to grab your staff. With only minor fumbling, you managed to active it with relative ease. Steven tried climbing up the latter to his right, and Layla had gotten up and moved towards the back of the room, searching for a weapon.

The creature chose to attack Steven, presumably since he was the closest. He wasn't going to make it to the top ledge in time. You ran several feet across the room with your staff before crouching down to slide on the sand filled ground. The momentum allowed you to take your staff and swipe the legs of the creature before it could reach Steven. You jumped up as the undead being started to fall backwards. Twirling your staff in your right hand, you landed a blow into the side of the creature. The force of the impact sent it flying into the wall across the room. You watched as the sad looking zombie slumped to the ground, unmoving.

"Impressive," Layla said, wandering over to admire your handiwork.

You smiled ruefully at her reaction. Turning around, you angled your head back to make sure Steven got to the landing. He was standing on the ledge looking down at you. He had this look of awe on his face, along-side a goofy grin.

"What?" you asked, shrugging one shoulder, "Contrary to popular belief, I can defend myself, when necessary."

"Where were you at Anton's compound? Could have used those skills of yours then," Layla said good naturedly.

You gave a short burst of laughter, at her ribbing, "I try to consider all other options before resorting to violence."

"Hey - I think I found our next pathway," Steven's hollered, his voice echoing around the chamber.

You and Layla gave the undead zombie one last glance before climbing up to meet Steven.

"Yes, please. Let's leave this place as soon as possible. I'd rather not run into any other creepy crawlies," you said, stuffing your staff back into your bag.

OOOOO

The tomb only got more treacherous as you got closer to the center. There were several small rumbles, that shook the walls and ground as you walked. It reminded you of small earthquakes. You shot a worried look to Steven that you were running out of time to stop Harrow. None of you were sure how far he'd gotten, but you knew you had to hurry.

There was one large shake that caused fragments of the ceiling and walls to fall around you. Each of you jumped around trying to find cover. In the aftermath, the three of you got separated. You heard from a distance Steven and Layla shouting. You had fallen through an old opening in a wall, so the voices were muffled. You joined in the chorus of noise, hoping they could hear you. But the voices stopped after awhile. It was difficult to determine whether they heard you or not. You dusted yourself off and took out your flashlight. Welp. It seemed you were on your own for the time being.

The only upside was most of these old tombs had viable connections paths, despite it being a maze. The Egyptians made a point you could walk around underground and find multiple exits, eventually. A precaution for cave-ins, floods, etc.. So, it was likely, you'd be able to run into Layla and Steven, even if it just took a bit longer.

Getting back to the task at hand, you knew you needed to find Ammit's stone figurine. If any of you got to it first, you had a chance to stop Harrow from releasing Ammit, putting an end to the madness.

You had a terrible sense of direction, but hopefully you could locate the sarcophagus that held Ammit's statue. You jogged  through various catacombs and corridors, but none of them were leading you where you needed to go. Frustrated, you stopped to think about the maze. You needed to be smart about this. Snapping your fingers, you remembered you brought an old pair of Stark glasses with you. Bending down, you threw your backpack on the ground and dug around all the side pockets.

Eureka.

Smiling to yourself, you yanked out the case. Opening it up, you pulled out the glasses and put them on, tapping the left side to turn them on.

Standing up, you looked around. The glasses should be able to map out the architecture and alert you to any pathways that lead toward dead ends. The blue print the glasses had mapped out told you to head right, then take a left at the first corridor. As you walked down the hallway and turned the corner, you heard gunshots ring out nearby. You threw yourself against the wall, not moving until the shots stopped. They sounded as if they came from an inner cavern. You bit your lip, worried. You hoped Steven and Layla were okay. That had to be Harrow's men, and they must have run into one of them for their guns to go off.

You listened for any footsteps. Confident you were still alone, you moved away from the wall. Tapping your glasses, you noticed they started fritzing out.

"No - no, not now!" you whispered.

They shorted out a few seconds later, after tapping the side panel relentlessly.

Dammit.

Okay, so what's plan C?

Send an SOS to our resident pigeon.

"Khonshu?" you quietly called out, "Could use your help, please?"

This time you didn't have to wait as long, he showed up much faster, than when you were both in the desert. You actually felt relief at seeing him. You never thought you'd been so happy to see the big bird, since you'd officially met.

"Khonshu! You dream. Thank you for stopping by. I am in need of some direction. I got separated from Steven and Layla," you light-heartedly greet him.

"You humans are so terrible with direction," he stated disdainfully.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, offended at his tone, "Not everyone has the gift of being a natural born compass okay?"

"I will be able to light a pathway for you, but unable to follow. My power is still too weak, between fighting the council's efforts to turn me into stone and reversing the night sky. Even Marc or the worm, will be unable to summon my armor until after nightfall."

That bit of information left you with a feeling of dread in your stomach.

Khonshu lifted his staff and pointed it towards the floor. The ground lit up in a orange glow with hieroglyphics littering the path.

It was mesmerizing.

"This should lead you to Alexander The Great's sarcophagus, where Ammit's figurine lies," he said.

"Thanks Khonshu, I knew you were a softy on the inside," you smirked at him in response.

"Hardly, but I am grateful for what you have done for me. This is the least I can do. I do not like owing debts of life," he said.

You could tell he was trying to be genial, which was unaccustomed to his nature.

"Admit it, I'm your new favorite," you joked.

He didn't respond, but he hummed in reply, "You must hurry, time is of the essence."

And with that, he disappeared from your sight.

You rolled your eyes at the empty space. He always had to make a dramatic entrance or exit.

OOOOO

You could tell you were getting close to the chamber holding Alexander the Great. The pathway that Khonshu left for you started to glow brighter. You heard voices from just around the next corner. Relief flooded your veins, recognizing the voices. Upon closer inspection though, the conversation wasn't a good one.

"Did you kill my father?"

That was Layla. She sounded more upset than you had ever heard her, as if she were on the brink of crying.

"Of course not! Of course I didn't."

Marc. That was definitely Marc. Something must have happened to cause Steven to relinquish control. And from the sound of the conversation, it was an emotional response.

"Layla, I swear - I swear, I will tell you everything, but we need to leave and find -" Marc started talking, but Layla cut him off.

"You didn't kill him, but you were there," she angrily laid into him.

"I was there - I was there," Marc said defeatedly.

You turned away from entering the room, giving them privacy. Instead you scouted the outer portion of the ceremonial room, making sure none of Harrow's men were around. You set up motion detectors to alert you if there were any trespassers.  As you finished wiring the final sensor, you knocked over an antique vase that was sent crashing to the floor.

Foot steps came pounding in your direction. You turned around, eyes wide, but relaxed when you saw it was just Marc.

"Hey. Jesus. Steven's been going crazy looking for you. You alright?" Marc asked, his voice ragged.

You could tell he was holding something back, but didn't press him on it.

"Fine," you answered him.

With Marc standing next to you, you were reminded of how mad you were at him.

"Come on," he said, gripping your arm and whisking you back into the inner room where the sarcophagus was.

"Nice to see you too," you replied sarcastically.

Marc just gave you a fond, but exasperated expression.

"Where's Layla?" you queried. Studying the room, you noticed she was no longer present.

You wondered if the conversation she had with Marc caused her to take off.

"I sent her out one of the exits to the chamber with Ammit's statue when we heard the crash you made. We'll catch up with her, but I want to keep that statue far away from Harrow." Marc answered.

"Makes sense," you murmured.

"How did you find us?"

You were so enthralled with how well preserved the room had been left, you almost missed Marc's question.

"What? Oh - Khonshu, showed me," you answered distractedly.

Marc stopped abruptly, causing you to teeter back. His hand was still wrapped around your upper arm. He swung you around to face him.

"Khonshu? What the hell is Khonshu doing following you around?" Marc questioned, outraged.

Hooboy. Here we go.

"I asked for his help?" you timidly replied.

"I knew you could see him. I had this gut feeling ever since the hotel room. When you froze up unexpectedly, then at Mogart's. Khonshu shouted directly at you, instead of me when you were in trouble," Marc muttered to himself.

You saw his jaw clench and unclench, "He's dangerous. You need to stay away from him. Tell me at any time if he's there when I'm not around."

"Ease up. You don't get to go around making demands. I've got a bone to pick with you too, you know!" you said to him, miffed at his 'it's my way or the highway' attitude.

You shook his arm off and glared at him.

"Let's not do this now."

"Oh, now you don't want to talk. Well too bad. You started it," you railed at him.

"What's got you so pissed at me anyways?" Marc said, turning away to slam his hands down on the edge of the sarcophagus.

The look of indignation crossed your face, "You've got to be kidding me. Where do I begin?"

First and foremost, I am pissed at you for not telling me, you made a deal with Steven to simply disappear once you fulfilled your mission with Khonshu. As if all of us would be okay with it! How fucking dare you."

"Steven seemed perfectly okay with it," Marc responded dryly.

"You are so clueless sometimes, it amazes me," you said incredulously, completely baffled, "There are people in your life who actually give a damn about you Marc."

That shut him up for a moment.

"Secondly," you ticked your index finger and middle finger up, "Why the hell did you punch Steven and throw him down the opening to the tomb?"

Marc made a groaning noise at your second accusation.

"It doesn't matter."

You'd had enough of his bullshit and marched up to him so you could look him in the eye.

"The hell it doesn't. Why'd you do it?"

"Because he shouldn't have done it! I told him not to touch you, to not involve you with how messed up I am," Marc shouted, leaning into you.

"That's my choice. You don't get to make that decision for me."

The irritation on Marc's face was growing with each passing moment. He finished closing the distance between the two of you, one hand cupping your face and the other your neck, "You are absolutely infuriating, going against me at every turn.  Why can't you see, I'm just trying to protect you. I cannot lose you, you understand?," he angrily whispered, his voice cracking at the end.

Peering up at him, you saw his eyes burning like fire, trying to get his point across to you.

The intensity of his gaze was seared into your soul, rendering you speechless for the second time that day.  

His face was mere inches from your own. The tip of his nose was brushing up against the bridge of yours. Marc's chest heaved up and down, as if he had been sprinting, harsh breaths leaving his body.

You felt Marc's thumb brushing your cheek. You watched as he leaned in, slowly dragging his nose down yours.

Your own breathing had picked up from his words and his movements.

Marc was about to kiss you. Every intention was outlined on his face.

He froze at the last minute and closed his eyes, as if he were willing himself not to give in. He dropped his hands away from your body. Twisting away, he ran a hand down his face. He looked utterly wrecked.

"Marc," you called out his name softly.

You watched the anger and the fight slowly leave his body.

He turned back towards you, "Let's call a truce for now. I'll listen to everything you have to say. Right now, we need to get out of here, we've already wasted too much time." He hesitated before continuing, "Also - don't think you're fully off the hook, just yet.

I want to know more about this thing with Khonshu. There's more to it than you've led on. But it's going to have to wait."

You nodded in agreement, "Alright."

As long as he was willing to hear you out, that was a start.

Standing right there, you saw how tired he really was. It wasn't just the physical toll of the day, but the emotional rollercoaster he had been on between his argument with Layla and now you.

Hoping to provide him some small comfort, you walked up to Marc wrapping your arms around him tightly.

"We're going to be okay," you murmured, stroking the hair on the back of his head.

Marc had tensed up at first, but eventually gave in and squeezed you back equally as hard, head buried in your neck, breathing you in.

"Well, isn't this an interesting development?"

You gasped, pulling back from Marc.

Looking to the right, there stood Arthur Harrow and his men. They must have disabled your motion sensors.

Harrow lazily and confidently walked toward you both, his cane reverberating on the ground with each step.

"Where's the statue?" Harrow asked calmly.

"Not here," Marc answered smugly.

"Mmmm, I don't think that's entirely true," the cult leader said.

It took you a second to catch what was happening. You saw one of the men passing Harrow a gun to his free hand.

You threw yourself in front of Marc, as Arthur raised the gun to the level of his chest.

"No," you called out, arms held out to prevent Marc from trying to move around you.

"What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?" Marc screamed at you, wrapping his arms around your front and pulling you; so your back was flush against his chest.

Pot meet kettle, you snorted internally.

Marc tried to move you, but you dug you heels into the ground, holding you in place as you latched onto the arms across your chest. He didn't have Khonshu's ceremonial armor; so he was regular human Marc. You were able to pin him, so his back was against the open sarcophagus and you protected his front.

"Don't do this," Marc harshly whispered to you, "Please," he added, the hint of fear laced in his voice.

The entire exchange had Harrow lower his weapon minutely.

"There's something different about you two," Arthur said, eyes narrowing in suspicion, "As amusing as this is, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you both."

"Kill me, but let her go. She's not apart of this," Marc demanded.

You didn't say anything, but fumed internally, gripping his arms harder in silent reply.

"All evidence suggests otherwise," Harrow said.

"Sir - we've found her. The statue as well," one of the men said coming up from a side entryway.

Behind him, another one of Harrow's men had Layla, hands bound and a cloth covering her mouth. She struggled every chance she got, trying to break free - but she was outnumbered.

Once Harrow had been shown Ammit encased in stone, he smiled serenely.

"Looks like, this is where we'll say our goodbyes," Arthur replied, under the guise of fake remorse.

He lifted his gun up and pointed it back at you.

"You'd really kill an innocent woman?" Marc argued with him, still fighting against you.

You were tiring, from the effort it took to keep Marc in place.

Harrow tilted his head to consider Marc's question.

"I'll make you a deal Marc Spector, Khonshu's fist of vengeance," Harrow said. Turning away, he handed his gun back to one of his men, "I'll spare all of your lives, if she's willing to be judged," he pointed to his rolled up sleeve, revealing the scales.

Without thinking, you answered him, "I accept."

"No, wait! That's not - " Marc spoke right against your ear, his grip tightening on you for a different reason now.  

"See, someone reasonable."

You relaxed your stance, and let go of Marc, but he wasn't removing his arms from your body.

"Marc, you have to let me go," you said quietly, twisting to look at him.

He swallowed roughly, "Never."

You were left breathless at his admission.

"It'll be okay," you said reassuringly.

Marc just shook his head in response. You saw tears forming in his eyes.

"This is all very touching, but I have a schedule to keep."

Marc's watery eyes blazed at Harrow.

"We just have to buy enough time until nightfall, then you can summon your armor," you murmured to Marc.

He dipped his head down and back up contemplating, before barely nodding, knowing this could buy you enough time.

Marc's hold on you slackened, and you stepped away, but not before squeezing his hand.

You wanted to cry. Marc trusted you to save them. He put his faith in you. And you'd be damned if you'd let him or Steven down.

After Marc had released you, Harrow nodded to his men. Two of them immediately came up and restrained Marc, zip tying his hands behind his back, while also holding him in place by his arms.

You looked worriedly to him and then Layla.

"Come my dear," Arthur said, holding out his hand for you to take.

You walked forward, tentatively taking Harrow's hand. He firmly grasped you, pulling you to stand in front of him. His cane, imbued with the power of Ammit, settled between his arms as he held them out.

As he clutched your hands, you were terrified. But you refused to let it show. You lifted your head up to meet his eyes, sharp - focused.

You glanced down, once you saw the scales start moving on his arm. The cane hanging between them started to glow purple from various places.

There was scuffling behind you. You looked back and witnessed Marc struggling against Harrow's men. He was trying to shake them off. His usual reserved expression broken. He was an open book, fear registering on his face.

A jolt zipped through your body like electricity, bringing your attention back to the cult leader.

Swallowing thickly, you looked down and saw the scales had stopped moving.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you?" Harrow cocked his head at you. He turned to address the room, "She has passed."

Your shoulders sagged, a bubble of hilarity threatening to escape your throat. You looked at Layla who nodded at you and then to Marc, who had his eyes shut and head bowed. There was a lone tear falling down his cheek.

Not wanting to be near Harrow any longer than you had to be, you moved away from him. Before you could fully step away, a hand wrapped around your wrist.

You gazed up at Arthur in question, "You said it yourself, I passed. We live."

"That may be, but there is something else about you," Harrow said, eyeing you from head to toe curiously.

He grabbed his cane and held it out towards your body like a crucifix. The cane started glowing again and Harrow's eyes had a purple tint, swimming around his irises.

You walked backwards towards Marc, trying to put some distance between you and the cult leader.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" Marc shouted, shoving one the men to the side, but the other punched him in the gut, causing him to keel over to the ground. He coughed a few times before being yanked from the back of his jacket roughly.

"Marc," you cried out, seeing him get knocked down. You hurried over to him, grabbing his arm to help him up and ignoring Harrow.

You winced in pain, feeling a sudden intrusion inside your body. It was coming from Harrow's staff; you thought you could see purple tendrils wrap around your torso. You gasped feeling pin-prickles all over your body. Marc was calling your name, but it sounded distorted. It was hard to hear anything around you. You inhaled deeply trying to brace yourself for more, but the pain started to fade, become bearable even. You looked down, seeing your hand still holding one of Marc's.

"Incredible," Harrow mused.

As you peered over at Arthur, you realized what he had done. He gained the knowledge of what Khonshu had about you.

Oh no.

He looked at Marc and then back at you.

"So, Marc Spector has a soulmate."

You stiffened at his statement, closing your eyes in resignation. When you opened them, Marc was staring at you, eyes searching yours.

All you could do was give a minuscule nod to him, confirming what Harrow said. You watched as Marc's lips parted open in shock. He appeared just as overwhelmed as you did when you first found out. You saw he wasn't sure how to digest what had just been told, but a startling realization crossed his face. That's when you knew. He had put the pieces together with this last bit of information. He figured out why you were the only one who could see Khonshu.

"Now, I understand. You are quite the special little thing, aren't you?" Arthur stepped closer to you, using one of hands to tip your face back to look at him.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on her," Marc bit out.

Harrow ignored him, but did release you with a contemplative look on his face.

"Take them all where we will perform the ritual, but be sure to keep this one and Mr. Spector away from each other."

One of the men holding Marc, grabbed you gruffly, tying your hands together. You struggled against him and he kneed you in the back, causing you to fall to your knees.

"We made a deal," you wheezed.

You heard Marc angrily yelling behind you.

"And I will uphold it, but once Ammit is released - well, all bets are off. She will be the true judge of your souls. You only had a small taste," Harrow smirked.

"You son of a -" you spewed out, but cut short when you were hauled to your feet and shoved forward towards Layla.

You twisted your wrist and checked your watch. There was still 20 minutes left before nightfall. You could do this. You'd find a way to stall them long enough to get Marc his armor.

As you were being led down the narrow hallway to the ritual chamber, the lighting had died down considerably, making it hard to see. Layla was walking at the front, you were in the middle and Marc was at the rear.

Harrow had passed you, running his staff down your arm as he went by. You shivered in disgust.

You heard a loud crash behind you. You turned what you could of your body to see Marc, taking out two of Harrow's men. A third one, slugged him across the face, causing a gash on his forehead.

"Marc," you called out, trying to get to him, but the man holding you, wrapped his arm around your waist. He picked you up like a rag doll and dragged you away.

Layla too was putting up a fight of her own, seeing an opening from all the commotion.

The ugly goon that punched Marc, pulled out a gun. You screamed thinking he was going to shoot him, but he turned his gun over and smashed the butt of his weapon into Marc's temple. The blow knocked him out instantly.

A wail of anger erupted from you, unable to help him.

You were roughly pulled away from the others, as you were carried down the darkened path. Marc was now being dragged by his arms, unconscious and bleeding. You kept your eyes on him until the darkness swallowed you up.

OOOOO

#moon knight #moon knight series #steven grant #marc spector #layla el faouly #arthur harrow #i wrote too much

[tiredofthehumanlife]

You guys want to hear some real petty drama

This couple (nasty they are) keeps sitting with me at lunch (disgusting)

Lemme set the scene so at my school we have like tables and booths and two of the booths are up against the wall and there's two long seats facing each other yk restaurant style and then they are more booths off to the side of those I normally sit in the first booth against the wall so that's where encounter 1-4 happens the fifth one is in the booth behind the first one so and also everytime I have sat in the booth first and then they go and just decide to sit with me (this actually makes me boil with anger)

First time this happened I was already having a really pissy day so I just glared at them. I was so uncomfy I didn't eat my lunch. so these two are like all up on each other 24/7 and like kissing and sharing food and like sitting on top of each other. if you're in your own booth sure maybe it's weird but you're in your own area not my business but like I was sitting in the booth first and then you come and sit down next to me unprompted and I'm just supposed to be chill with you trying to jump each other's bones every two seconds? And one of them got a slushie and then they were sharing it with two spoons (sure whatever) but then they did that thing where you cross arms yk the thing ppl do when they eat wedding cake and the guy missed the girls mouth and the slushie got on her shirt and he went "oh no baby 🥺 you got it on yourself you made a mess 🥺" like in a baby voice yk you get it and then wiped her shirt for her. dude get away from me

Then second time at this point I'm boiling dude pick somewhere else to sit it's not like they ran out of seats these two get there relatively early so they're just sitting there for funsies and I'm like annoyed and uncomfortable bc again they are all up on each other

Third time again I'm sitting alone Im in a booth and these two walk over and sit on the other side of this booth and are again all. Up. On. Each. Other. Get a room it's nasty people are trying to eat

Fourth time I'm sitting with my friend same booth same side and they come and sit on the other side

Then today I sat in a different booth near the first one that I normally sit in bc they make me so incredibly uncomfortable that I'd rather just move someone else and then I see them and there is a girl sitting in the first booth right and they're standing there next to her like 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️ okay and then they ask the girl if she can move bc it's "their spot" which bitch this is not an assigned seat situation this is first come first serve eat or eaten (it's a highschool cafeteria its not that big of a deal) and this girl obviously goes "uh no?" And they're like "but it's our spot" and she's like "still no?" And then they just stand there like they've lost all options (which they haven't btw there was another open booth next to them) and then they come and SIT IN MY BOOTH and they drop their bags and the girl walks off to go get a tray but her boyfriend stays there and I'm upset and frustrated so I said "why do y'all do this?" And tbh I thought I whispered it to myself but then he turns around and goes "you're one person stop hogging it😡" which first of all there are so many other seats youre the one hogging up other people's personal space and secondly I'm not one person so now you just look foolish and they sat there for the rest of the lunch period all up on each other

And I know it's a dumb hill to die on and it's really petty but these two gross me out so much and they're just so entitled that I've started plotting how I'm going to get them to go away

Here's my plan next time I get there I'm going to sit in the other booth not the first one they have decided is theirs the one behind it and I'm putting my bag on the other side and sitting opposite my bag and then if they say anything "sorry someone's sitting there" and then if they say anything after that I'll just be crazy petty and be like "I wouldn't want to hog a booth but I have friends I'm eating with today sooo"

#petty af #ik its stupid #dramatic #drama #god damn #i wrote too much

[softd0m-charlie]

don't get me wrong, i absolutely love the feeling of power and control and dominance in kink stuff, but one of my absolute favorite things is just feeling so needy and desperate around another person who's equally as needy and desperate for you.

i get the appeal of being all pathetic and whiny around someone more dominant than you, being at the mercy of whatever they'd decide to do to you or what they'd make you do to them, sure. and i absolutely love putting someone else in that position.

but it's so hot when we're both pathetic little needy messes for each other at the same time. both of us whimpering things to each other like "you're so fucking hot," and "oh my god i need you so bad, please," while we're rutting against each other and panting and drooling and whining, desperately trying to get any amount of friction or stimulation while at the same time trying so so hard to make sure the other person feels good too. eventually making each other cum over and over until our brains are too fuzzy and our bodies are too shaky and spent to possibly keep going anymore, sweat and slick and cum dripping down both of us and soaking into the sheets.

no coherent power dynamic between us in that moment, just the foggy-headed, brainless, primal need for pleasure and the intense desire to give that person pleasure, too. nothing else can ever feel better to me than the raw need and lust and passion and desperation that comes out of both of you being so so whiny and pathetic for each other like that.

#is this too niche #am i being too vanilla this time #idc #i ❤️ completely brainless primal desperate needy sex #jesus i did not realize i wrote that much goddamn #ftm nsft #t4t nsft #ftm dom #ftm top #ftm t4t #trans nsft #nsft t4t #t4t mlm #ftm sub #ftm bottom #nsft ftm #ftm switch #ftm ns/fw #mlm t4t #t4t bottom #t4t sub #t4t ns/fw #transmasc t4t #sub4sub #sub top #trans sub

[crybaby-bkg]

I think Deku has a bit of a mean streak, actually. he’s no Bakugou—that’s for sure—but he’s not this innocent, sweet angel baby that the media has painted him out to be. but you only catch it when you least expect it, when you’re pushing his nerves, when the stakes to everything around him are high, when he’s tired of endless sleepless nights and just—snaps.

“Oh?” you go, grin unfurling like some grinch, chin resting on your hands as you leer at him from across his expansive desk. “You’re mean.” your words are teasing, a snarl that curls your mouth up. Deku stutters, eyes going wide, jaw snapping shut in surprise as he tries to think back on how rude he just sounded.

“No, I’m not—I mean, you wouldn’t stop and I just—there’s a lot on my plate right now—and you just—you keep on—I’m not—I’m not mean.” He’s sputtering, hands all over the place, the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose falling even lower with how he jabbers on and on. it’s endearing really, to see how he tries to upkeep his image of being so kind and understanding, even though his nostrils just flared at you. and his eyebrows turned down and he gritted at you, his hands were balled into fists, his words were so nasty, so ugly, so unbecoming for Deku.

you liked it. loved it even—vowed to get him like this every single fucking second that you could.

you pick and poke at him whenever you see him, teasing him and pulling at him. pushing him around even though the hero is so much stronger than you, so much bigger. and he lets you, tries to defend himself but—that’s not what you want. you want the ugliness, the snark, the mean.

he snaps, eventually, when you least expect it. grabs you up in black whip when you go to push him against the wall for the third time in only a minute, his eyes suddenly dark, the aura of the room suddenly charged.

“That’s what I was looking for.” you whisper to him, the grin spreading your face quickly dissipating in only seconds when you become the prey. when you become the one pushed up against the wall with teeth at your neck, a hand in your underwear, bullying your hole with too thick fingers.

“Why do you want me to act like this? Be so mean to you, huh?” he sounds so frustrated with himself, with you, growling and nipping and licking when you don’t answer quick enough. but your breath is caught in your lungs because finally—finally, did you get what you wanted. it just took a little bit of pushing, you suppose.

#omg I wrote this idea down last night and couldn’t even type it up #bc I took some sleep meds and it put me out SO FUCKING QUICK???? #usually I don’t lay down until like an hour and a half or two #but it was literally like 40 mins and I was DONE!!!! #but I finally wrote it :D #there’s also been so much talk of him on the dash and i am. very much so liking this #I miss him bc I don’t think about him enough #but I also think he can be. so mean. like NASTY mean when his limits are pushed enough #ohhhh my god I wont him so bad #okay gn I took more meds bc my pelvis has been in so much pain???? #just the right side too??? omg AM I DYING GELP #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #deku treats! 🍬

[tubbytarchia]

The bloodied moon cried for you, but you only heard the stars The weeping moon then bled for you, but you only saw her scars

#I was too motivated to draw this to not outright finish it. More Pearl art upon ye god. oops! All Pearl! #pearlescentmoon #pearlescentmoon fanart #trafficblr #tilly #double life fanart #the blood seeping from the moon is turning her fit scarlet <3 #cw blood #wolf + moon + Pearl imagery... too good to pass up on #god so ill #SO ILL #I LOVE DRAWING ANIMALS SO MUCH #GUYS I LOVE IT SO MUCH #WOLVES. WOLVES!!!! #Wolves are overrated and I like most animals more than that but THEYRE STILL FUN TO DRAW #sorry I wrote the. little poem thing wrong so I privated this for a bit teehee Im a failure #tubby art

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Hi Rumor tracking Anon I’m loving your tumblr blog, I have a question is there any truth to Markle super glueing a sorority pledge girls eyes during initiation/hell night ? I had someone on YouTube tell me this (I think it was book worm YouTube video) this woman claimed to be the head /dean sorority houses and she said that Tom sr. had to pay for emotional and physical damages in court and that it was sealed that’s why she didn’t graduate from Northwestern and why NO ONE from her sorority wished her well when she was engaged to Harold.

This is a tough one because it depends on what your confirmation bias is. If you think Meghan is the worst person to exist since Patrick Bateman (American Psycho), the facts support the rumor being true. If you can look at Meghan more objectively, you can argue either way. If you like Meghan or you think she's gotten a bad rap, the facts support the rumor being a lie.

Personally I am always skeptical of rumors that are essentially "someone said someone told them that someone said," especially when it comes from a gossip-style YouTube video or the comments of a video. I think these are great sources to learn rumors and see what kind of theories people have about the royals, but because these kind of videos never name names or show their receipts to let people follow up and verify their claims, I take what they say with a dose of salt and do my own research.

And my own research on this particular rumor is that isn't totally true. There's probably some truth to it, since all rumors are based on some kind of truth and the truth is usually somewhere in the middle. But I don't think the "whole" truth is this particular version of the rumor.

Since the truth is usually in the middle, what I think is more likely to have happened:

Meghan hated being in the sorority because she didn't fit in. (Bower talks about this.)

Meghan hazed the pledges, but it was probably by bullying them rather than assault (it's consistent with what has been verified about her bullying the KP staff). There were probably disciplinary actions involved due to her bullying.

The sorority doesn't celebrate her because she was a problematic member, if there were disciplinary actions. Meghan doesn't talk about the sorority because she hated them and if there were disciplinary actions for hazing, she would probably think it was unwarranted.

Holes in her time at Northwestern are similar to the experiences of people I know who had to leave college due to poor academic standing. Her present day behavior (flakey, no follow-through, no work ethic, can't write worth shit, plagiarizes everything, prioritizes social life) is stereotypically someone who squeaked through college classes.

Especially that Meghan couldn't pass the Foreign Service Officer Test and found the Living in the UK citizenship test difficult? For someone who prided herself on an international relations degree? It ain't mathing.

Especially since if she had straight As, she would've blasted it from the mountaintop because Kate's grades are public record and she would've killed to have hard evidence that she's the smartest royal.

Tom's substantial loss of money in the early 00s, which overlaps with Meghan's time at Northwestern, is either a bad investment or Meghan accrued a shit ton of debt from "free" credit cards or loans from predatory companies that prey on the financial ignorance of college kids. (And we know Meghan has terrible financial acumen still today.)

I give Meghan the benefit of the doubt on "gluing the eyelids shut" part. It's so bizarre and out there, yet it's also pretty specific too. I think someone was putting false eyelashes on and she gave them superglue as a silly prank (especially since people do sometimes use superglue for their falsies), didn't tell them it was superglue, and too much was applied. It's particularly plausible given how atrocious Meghan is at applying and gluing her own false eyelashes. Wimbledon Women's Finals 2018, need I say more?

That's the biggest thing that stands out to me and makes this rumor untrue. Of all the stories we know are true about Meghan, she has never been physically dangerous. She has always been emotionally and verbally abusive. The only instance of a physical assault that has been verified is the tea-throwing incident. Nothing else has been verified. There are plenty of other rumors but nothing's been verified.

If there's ever any verification of physical assault or a physical altercation, then I'll reconsider my position on this rumor. But for now, I don't believe it. I don't mind being wrong but I need more than "Ronald would like me to tell you that Seamus told him that Dean was told by Parvati that Hagrid is looking for you" to give a rumor plausibility.

But if you believe it, then you do you. It's cool. There's room for all of us here.

And also, Meghan graduated from Northwestern. Not with the degree she claims but she graduated. The school wouldn't be calling her a graduate or used her on their marketing materials if she didn't graduate. She wouldn't be printed in the 2003 Spring Commencement Program if she didn't graduate or finish courses. Northwestern wouldn't lie about that. They could get in pretty serious trouble from the collegiate accrediting authorities if it comes out that they graduated people who didn't finish their coursework. Trouble with their accreditation means issues with the NCAA/sports, rankings, and state legislature oversight. They'd lose a lot of money.

#i wrote too much #i need to work on this #tom bower #theories

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

I never really made a request before so that's my first time wish u like it

So I was thinking about some fluff drunk y/n acting all stupid and flirty to bakugo who doesn't like drinking around her because he knows that they both won't have someone to send them home if they got drunk

[Secretly caring]

*Whispering* he also gets a bit touchy if she let's him

*friends to lovers thing*

Wish my explanation was good enough and can't wait for the next chapter of FBRC <3

OUUU this is such a cute idea ! i’m so happy, this is my first request as well so we both have a milestone LMAOOO ! i tried to honour your request as best i could ! <3 (OU and AAAAA im glad you like FBRC ! i hope you’ll keep reading !)

bakugou katsuki considers himself a mature, mostly rational person.

despite what others, media outlets and even his own damn friends might say, katsuki thinks he’s really not that bad.

sure, he’s flipped off a camera man, cursed out another one…and another one—but who doesn’t have a bad day once in a while ?

he’s changed since he was a kid, he doesn’t get set off as easy anymore most days. he’s learned to be more patient, a little more levelheaded. that’s at least something his shitty friends will tell you.

he’s changed from when he was a kid, he’s grown now. he’s a man.

but right now katsuki feels like smashing your head in with a brick.

"kah-su-kiiiiiiiii... m'sleeppyy" you whine, leaning against his shoulder.

katsuki doesn't regret a lot, but he sure as hell regrets accepting to go out for drinks with you. again. you had said something about 'celebrating getting a day off after a while'.

"never should've accepted goin' out with yer ass." he laments grumpily. despite the fact he says this every single time he goes out to drink with you, he never seems to learn his lesson. he never seems to want to learn his lesson.

truth is, katsuki has grown a lot since his UA days but one thing he hasn't outgrown is his giant rampant crush on you. it's embarrassing how tightly you've got him wrapped around your finger, how easily you can get him to do whatever you want as long as you just asked him to.

he complains and grumbles about it but he'll never, ever, say no to you.

which is how he always, always, ends up in this predicament.

katsuki snaps out of his thoughts when he hears you sniffle.

"y-ya don't like.." you sniffle again " ya don't like hangin' out wif me ?"

fuck.

immediatly it's like a switch had been flipped. he moves his arm so he can wrap it around you and have you lean against his chest. you always got emotional when you were a little too drunk, that usually meant it was time to go.

"no—no, s'not that. i—" he sucks in a breath, cheeks heating up despite the fact he knows there's barely any chance you'll remember this. usually he'd remind you of your embarrassing drunk moments as revenge for making him take you home and taking care of your ass because you were too drunk to, but he'll refrain from mentioning this part.

"i do like hangin' out with you, dummy. quit talkin' stupid." he shushes you softly, unconsciously rubbing your arm comfortingly.

"b-but you said, you regretted goin' out wit me" you pout. fuck, you're cute. katsuki has to fight off the urge to lean down and kiss it away.

"i say a lot of stuff i don't always mean, sweets. you know that." he replies " 'f i didn't wanna hang out with ya, i wouldn't."

you hum pensively, leaning against his shoulder as you think. you smell like something sweet, he can't quite track down what it is, but it's making him dizzy. you've always had the ability to make him lose focus. you're so close and you smell so good and katsuki feels like he's drunk.

"mmyeah...guess that's true" you hiccup. you raise your hand up to trace his jaw line with your finger and he refuses to look at you but he can hear the cheeky little smile in your voice "you like hanging out with me, right ? that's why you always say yes when i ask !

he scoffs "i only say yes 'cuz i know you'd just end up goin' out anyway, you'd get yourself in trouble." he's stiff as a fucking board, he feels like if he moves a little too much he'll say something he shouldn't.

"no i wouldn't" you argue, then you reach your whole hand up to squeeze his cheeks "but even if i did, i know you'd come to save me, mr. dynamight" you giggle

he's so sick of you. katsuki's been in plenty of situations where he was this close to death, but he's certain you're gonna be the death of him.

"time for bed" he grumbles. he lifts you by your shoulders slightly until you can properly stand on your feet "m'getting you home, yer too drunk to be up right now" he asserts, chuckling when you pout at him when he flicks your forehead

"you're not the boss o' me ! 'm completely—oops" you trip forward but katsuki catches you with ease, he's always there to.

you look up at him innocently and he looks down at you with one eyebrow raised "you were sayin' ?" he sassed.

you roll your eyes at him and push off him slightly to stand more comfortably, you stick your tongue out at him. " i said—i'm fine..but if you wanna take me home that badly, i guess i'll allow it" you shrug. katsuki squints then shakes his head, smiling to himself. you catch him and giggle, he can't cover up his chuckle fast enough. you must look stupid to the other people in the bar just sitting there giggling at each other, he realizes. then he remembers he could honestly not give enough of a shit about what these other drunk losers thought, the only drunk loser he cared about was right here in his arms.

right where you belonged.

you're out like a light by the time katsuki's brought you back to your apartment, but he doesn't mind, he'd expected it anyway. he carries you like a sack of potatoes to your floor. he's glad he'd managed to grab your keys before you fell asleep, having to wrestle the keys from you and risk you getting cranky at him doesn't sound all that nice right now.

he helps you take off your shoes and he's extremely grateful you're just lucid enough to change by yourself. he helps you clean up and brush your teeth, then carries you to bed even though he knows damn well you could walk just fine. not before getting you to down a glass of water.

you're annoying when you're drunk and sleepy, you're whiny and everything is too much work for you. katsuki grumbles right along with you, calling you a pain in the ass, then promptly taking it back when he sees you tearing up again. he grumbles and complains but he knows he wouldn't let anyone else do it for him. not only because he's sure whoever it is wouldn't even be able to do this half as well as he does, but also because despite his better judgement, despite the fact you piss him off to no bounds, you're his to take care of. and he'd be damned if he let anyone else take care of what's his.

so you whine, and he complains, but he truly wouldn't have it any other way.

you insist on wanting him to stay with you and he knows he probably shouldn't. he likes you too much to just casually stay here with you, he knows he won't be able to sleep and he's just going to keep staring at your lashes fluttering as you dream. but you pout at him and plead him so sweetly, he really can't say no to you.

he likes you too much.

he steals one of your hoodies and a pair of sweatpants (he technically isn't stealing—since they're both his to begin with) and climbs into bed with you. you immediatly latch onto him, nuzzling into his shoulder before thanking him.

"for what ?" he mutters sleepily, slowly wrapping his arms around you.

"for.." you interrupt yourself with a yawn, he chuckles "for always takin' care of me..you're the best."

if you were more sober, he'd simply answer with a cocky "tell me something i don't know." but you're not and katsuki's already too far gone, so he squeezes your waist in appreciation then responds " i'm always gonna take care of you."

he's suprised by how soft and sappy he sounds but you suprise him even more when you lean up slightly to press a feather light kiss to the underside of his jaw and whisper a sweet little "love you."

he lays there for a good long while without response, you don't mind because you chose that exact moment to fall asleep. he lays there and he's sure he won't be able to fall asleep now. fuck you for knocking out and leaving him like this, he thinks. he's trying not to give himself false hope, maybe you meant it platonically. he keeps trying and he keeps thinking all night but he's still impossibly giddy.

he was contemplating not telling you anything about last night, but he can't help himself. he's nervous—god, he's so fucking nervous when you wake up while he's getting comfy in your kitchen like it was his, making breakfast. you look groggy and sleepy and hungover, but to him, you still look adorable.

when you're awake enough, munching away at the breakfast he's made, he tells you about last night and his heart slams against his chest when he mentions what you had told him.

though, when he sees how you choke on a piece of your toast, and how flustered you look, like a deer in headlights, his heart beats hard against his ribcage for a completely different reason.

the next time you go out for drinks, it's to celebrate the start of your relationship.

AAA first request done ! hope you liked this anon <3 if you guys have any request pleassseee lemme know !

#i didnt rlly know how to finish this i wrote sm lmfaoo #hope yall liked it tho ! #this was super fun to write ! #i ended up writing too much again part 935947398 #s'okay its katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you

[happypeachsludgeflower]

Who wants to bet Peerless Cucumber has an entire fan base within the pidw’s fandom? Potentially even bringing in a portion of pidw’s readers who just want to enjoy shen yuan just loosing it in the comments.

Like sure, some of the fandom’s definitely there for the toxic masculinity and papapa, but I guarantee you there’s an entire section dedicated to gleefully watching the fandom sewer rat being feral.

#peerless cucumber is a fandom onto himself #shen yuan is the fandom feral sewer rat #shen yuan probably wrote just as much hate mail as airplane wrote for the novel #I just think it’d be humorous if airplane and cucumber are like synonymous with each other #like you can’t talk about pidw without cucumber being brought up too #it’s honestly pretty telling that Shang Qinghua knew who peerless cucumber was #he’s so famous for anti fanning that the author knows his name #svsss shen qingqiu #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #mxtx svsss #svsss #svsss fanfiction #svsss fic #svsss shitpost #scumbag system #scumbag self saving system #scumbag villain #pidw #peerless cucumber #airplane shooting towards the sky #cucumber bro #airplane bro

[destiel-wings]

Dean Winchester & hug dynamic analysis

I was thinking about how whenever Dean hugs someone he's almost always the one hugging the other and how this links to his psychological trauma of always being the caretaker of people, making himself bigger to protect them.

Because that's how Dean sees himself, as a shield for others, and then I thought about how Cas actually is the shield, and he's HIS SHIELD, specifically, the only one who's really there to protect HIM, which is why it hits so much when we see this:

The way Cas wraps his arms around him, trying to protect him with his whole body--that he'd use as a shield and give up in a second if he could spare him from any pain and save him.

(for context: Dean was about to go use the soul bomb on Amara there, it was a suicide mission)

Bobby is another one that hits, he hugs him as the big hugger because he's his father, he loves him and he's actually here to protect him (and Dean LETS him -barely, but he lets him *and Cas* - in a way that he doesn't let Sam)

I watched a compilation of Sam & Dean hugs to check if i was right about it, but it's almost always Dean the big hugger with Sam, except when he's about to die or Sam sees him alive again after losing him.

Even then, Dean mostly tries to hug Sam as the big hugger anyway, with at least one arm, like a way to comfort him, making him feel protected, like his body language is saying "I'm here, I'm okay, I'm still strong, i can still protect you" (because their real father failed and Dean thinks it's his job).

He rarely lets himself be the little one hugged with Sam, unless he's barely conscious. Which is why it kills me so much more now that in this moment (s14, when Dean was going to lock himself in the Ma'lak box cause he was possessed by Michael) and Sam has a desperate breakdown and punches him (to stop him) he forcefully hugs him as the little hugger, the way Dean always kept him, like a way of saying "I still need you to protect me, please don't do this to yourself".

In the scene below he gives Sam his blessing to do a dangerous (possibly suicidal) mission, and one of his arms is down, but the other one tries to stay up--he's forcing himself to do it and he struggles because he still wants to protect him, but (as the seasons progress) he slowly becomes more prone to let go.

So in this view the hug dynamic becomes an indicator of how Dean sees Sam (and himself) and his protector role, how adult and self sufficient he considers Sam, and how much he lets people around him take care of him, lowering his walls and letting himself be hugged.

This is also why i think hugs from characters like Garth or Charlie are so special, because they're just like us: they see Dean and they just know that he needs to be hugged a lot, and that he's not used to it, so they just go for it-- and it's so normal and kind and spontaneous that Dean's just not used to it-- he doesn't know how to respond (especially with Garth, at the beginning, but as the seasons progress, he learns to, and he even initiates the hug eventually).

I love the hugs where they're 50/50 (one arm up, one arm down both), feels like they're equals, both taking care of each other. I feel like with Sam and Dean, this indicates a healthier dynamic, because Dean lets go a little of the role that was imposed to him and manages to see Sam as the strong individual that he is. But the same applies to 50/50 hugs with other characters, like with Cas, where I feel like it testifies how equals they feel in terms of being fighters, there's a show of respect of each other's strength that transpires by the gesture (which is even more astounding considering that Cas is literally a powerful angel).

And just to end on a destiel note, I'd like to note the possessiveness and protectiveness of Dean (rightfully so) whenever he finds Cas after he thought he had lost him, and how that translates into his body/hug language:

#dean winchester #spn #dean winchester character study #spn analysis #dean winchester analysis #dean winchester & hugs #dean studies #destiel #deancas #body language #hugs #dean winchester hugs #castiel #sam winchester #sam & dean #sam & dean dynamics #dean x cas #psychology #my thoughts #my interpretation #my analysis #spn gifs #dean winchester gifs #Youtube #long post #but it's mostly many gifs #no that's not true i also wrote a lot (but it's little paragraphs in between more gifs than the mobile app allows) #(I did it from the website to cheat) #(i hope it doesn't lag too much)

[dreadark]

that ivan loves till is the most obvious thing about them

but. does ivan know that…?

the ivan that regards his own feelings as shallow, the ivan that learned how emotions are expressed only from copying others… does he even know that the love he’s felt for so long is love? probably not. and part of the reason is the one he loves himself

because the easiest example he has of love is till's feelings to mizi. till outright calls it love, and ivan watches him so much he has to be aware of this and till’s love to mizi is totally unselfish, right. he doesn’t seem to actually want much from her—just that she's still there and still "mizi"

but ivan can't be satisfied with just watching he… wants. ivan wants till’s attention, till’s affection—

surely this selfish wanting can’t be love

...no wonder he was never able to express his feelings straightforwardly when he belittles them so much but he can’t stand not having anything either, so he does… whatever he does instead to get any scraps of attention he can, from someone he's convinced doesn't care about him at all only showing affection when till can't see it, right until he knows he's going to die

but ivan's feelings for till are all he still has of himself... to think of them as shallow...

I've seen this translated as "I should've been kinder" to him (till) or to her (sua)

but really, the one he should've been kinder to was himself

#alien stage #alnst #alnst ivan #ivantill #i have a lot of thoughts on till -> mizi too but this is long enough #just attempting to rewrite my twt rambles more coherently #idk why i wrote this so dramatically tho... #'thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions' is going to haunt me to my grave #ivan's character is just a careful balance between his natural freak nature and his extreme depths of self-loathing #making him the most miserable guy ever #...really once you realize so much of what went wrong is thanks to ivan just hating himself too much to even think of them as friends. well #c...can we bring him back... don't die like this..... #(also you know. with the implications of how 'pets' are treated #wanting someone physically must feel... even more wrong