#does that make sense ??? like i know a lot of the negativity i see here is all out of love for liam

[perfectlyvalid49]

On being Jewish, and traumatized (It’s been 5 months and I want to talk):

Judaism is a joyous religion. So much of our daily practice is to focus us on the things that are good. I know that there’s a joke that all our holidays can be summed up as “they tried to kill us. We survived – let’s eat!”, and you might think that holidays focused on attempts at killing us might be somber, but they’re really not. Most are celebrated in the sense of, “we’re still here, let’s have a party!” When I think about practicing Judaism, the things I think about make me happy.

But I think a lot of non-Jews don’t necessarily see Judaism the same way. I think in part it’s because we do like to kvetch, but I think a lot of it is because from the outside it’s harder to see the joy, and very easy to see the long history of suffering that has been enacted on the Jewish people. From the inside, it’s very much, “we’re still here, let’s party” and from the outside it’s, “how many times have they tried to kill you? Why are you celebrating? They tried to KILL YOU!”

And I want to start with that because a lot of the rest of this is going to be negative. And I don’t want people to read it and wonder why I still want to be Jewish. I want to be Jewish because it makes me happy. My problem isn’t with being Jewish, it’s with how Jews are treated.

What I really wanted to write about is being Jewish and the trauma that’s involved with that right now.

First, I want to talk about Israeli Jews. I can’t say much here because I’m not Israeli, nor do I have any close friends or family that are Israeli. But if I’m going to be talking about the trauma Jews are experiencing right now, I can’t not mention the fact that Israeli Jews (and Israelis that aren’t Jewish as well, but that’s not my focus here) are dealing with massive amounts of it right now. It’s a tiny country – virtually everyone has a friend or family member that was killed or kidnapped, or knows someone who does. Thousands of rockets have been fired at Israel in the last few months – think about the fact that the Iron Dome exists and why it needs to. Terror attacks are ongoing; I feel like there’s been at least one every week since October. Thousands of people are displaced from their homes, either because of the rocket fire, or because their homes and communities were physically destroyed in the largest pogrom in recent history – the deadliest single day for Jews since the Holocaust ended. If that’s not trauma inducing, I don’t know what is.

And there is, of course, the generational trauma. And I think Jewish generational trauma is interesting because it’s so layered. Because it’s not just the result of one trauma passed down through the generations. Every 50-100 years, antisemitism intensifies, and so very frequently the people experiencing a traumatic event were already suffering from the generational trauma that their grandparents or great grandparents lived through. And those elders were holding the generational trauma from the time before that. And so on.

And because it happens so regularly, there’s always someone in the community that remembers the last time. We are never allowed the luxury of imagining that we are safe. We know what happened before, and we know that it happened again and again and again. And so we know that it only makes sense to assume it will happen in the future. The trauma response is valid. I live in America because my great grandparents lived in Russia and they knew when it was time to get the hell out in the 1900s. And the reason they knew that is because their grandparents remembered the results of the blood libels in the 1850s. How can we heal when the scar tissue keeps us safe?

I look around now and wonder if we’ll need to run. We have a plan. I repeat, my family has a plan for what to do if we need to flee the country due to religious persecution. How can that possibly be normal? And yet, all the Jewish families I know have similar plans. It is normal if you’re Jewish. Every once in a while I see someone who isn’t Jewish talk about making plans to leave because they’re LGBTQ or some other minority and the question always seems to be, “should I make a plan?” It astounds me every time. The Jewish answer is that you need to have a plan and the only question is, “when should I act?” Sometimes our Jewish friends discuss it at play dates. Where will you go? What are the triggers to leave? No one wants to go any earlier then they have to. Everyone knows what the price of holding off too long might be.

I want to keep my children safe. When do I induct them into the club? When do I let my sweet, innocent kids know that some people will hate them for being Jewish? When do I teach them the skills my parents and grandparents taught me? How to pass as white, how to pass as Christian, knowing when to keep your mouth shut about what you believe. When do I tell them about the Holocaust and teach them the game “would this person hide me?” How hard do I have to work to remind them that while you want to believe that a person would hide you, statistically, most people you know would not have? Who is this more traumatic for? Them, to learn that there is hatred in the world and it is directed at them, or me, to have to drive some of the innocence out of my own children’s eyes in order to make sure they are prepared to meet the reality of the world?

And the reality of the world is that it is FULL of antisemitism. There’s a lot of…I guess I’d call it mild antisemitism that’s always present that you just kinda learn to ignore. It’s the sort of stuff that non-Jews might not even recognize as antisemitic until you explain it to them, just little micro-aggressions that you do your best to ignore because you know that the people doing it don’t necessarily mean it, it’s just the culture we live in. It can still hurt though. I like to compare it to a bruise: you can mostly ignore it, but every once in a while something (more blatant antisemitism) will put a bit to much pressure on it and you remember that you were already hurting this whole time.

On top of the background antisemitism, there’s more intense stuff. And usually the most intense, mask off antisemitism comes from the right. This makes sense, in that a lot of right politics are essentially about hating the “other” and what are Jews if not Western civilizations oldest type of “other”? On the one hand, I’ve always been fortunate enough to live in relatively liberal areas so this sort of antisemitism has felt far away and impersonal – they hate everybody, and I’m just part of everybody. On the other hand, until recently I’ve always considered this the most dangerous source of antisemitism. This is the antisemitism that leads to hate crimes, that leads to synagogue shootings. This is the reason why my synagogue is built so that there is a long driveway before you can even see the building, and that driveway is filled with police on the high holidays. This is the reason why my husband and I were scared to hang a mezuzah in our first apartment (and second, and third). For a long time, this was the antisemitism that made me afraid.

But the left has a problem with antisemitism too. And it has always been there. Where the right hates the “other”, the left hates the “privileged/elite/oppressors.” It’s the exact same thing, just dressed up with different words. They all mean “other” and “other” means “Jew.” It hurts more coming from the left though. A lot of Jewish philosophy leans left. A lot of Jews lean left. So when the left decides to hate us, it isn’t a random stranger, it’s a friend, and it feels like a betrayal.

One of the people I follow works for Yad Vashem, and a few weeks ago she mentioned a video they have with testimonies from people who came to Israel after Kristallnacht, with an unofficial title of “The blow came from within.” The idea is that to non-German Jews, the Holocaust was something done by strangers. It was still terrible, but it is easier to bear the hate of a stranger – it’s not personal. But to German Jews, the Holocaust was a betrayal. It wasn’t done by strangers, it was done by coworkers, and neighbors and people they thought were friends. It was done by people who knew them, and still looked at them and said, “less than human.” And because of this sense of betrayal, German survivors, or Germans who managed to get out before they got rounded up, had a very different experience than other Holocaust victims.

And I feel like a lot of left leaning Jews are having a similar experience now. People that we’ve marched with or organized with, or even just mutuals that we’ve thought of as friends are now going on about how Jews are evil. They repeat antisemitic talking points from the Nazis and from the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, and when we point out that those ideas have only led to Jewish death in the past they don’t care. And if someone you thought of as a friend thinks of you this way, what do you think a stranger might think? Might do?

The Jews are fucking terrified. I’ve seen a post going around that basically wonders if this was what it was like for our ancestors – when things got bad enough to see what was coming but before it was too late to run? And we can see what’s coming. History tells us that they way people are talking and acting only leads to one place. I’m a millennial – when I was a kid the grandparents at my synagogue made sure the kids knew – this is what it looked like before, this is what you need to watch out for, this is when you need to run. I wonder where to run to. It feels like nowhere is safe.

I feel like I’ve been lucky in all this. I don’t live in Israel. I have family and acquaintances who do, but no one I’m particularly close to. Everyone I know in real life has either been sane or at least silent about all of this (the internet has been significantly worse, but when it comes to hate, the internet is always worse). I live in a relatively liberal area – there’s always been antisemitism around anyway, but it’s mostly just been swastikas on flyers, or people advocating for BDS, not anything that’s made me actually worry for my safety. But in the last 5 months there have been bomb threats at my synagogue, and just last week a kid got beat up for being Jewish at our local high school. He doesn’t want to report it. He’s worried it will make it worse.

I bought a Magen David to wear in November. At the time it seemed like the best way to fight antisemitism was to be visibly Jewish, to show that we’re just normal people like everyone else. Plus, I figured that if me being Jewish was going to be a problem for someone, then I would make it a problem right away and not waste time. I’ve worn it almost constantly since, but the one time I took it off was when I burnt my finger in December and had to go to urgent care. I didn’t think about it too much when I did it, but I thought about it for a long time after – I didn’t feel good about having made that choice.

The conclusion I came to is that the training that my elders had been so careful to instill in me kicked in. I was hurt, and scared, and the voice inside my head that sounds like my grandmother said, “don’t give them a reason to be bad to you. Fight when you’re well, but for now – survive.” It still felt cowardly, but it was also a connection to my ancestors who heeded the same voice well enough to survive. And it enrages me that that voice has been necessary in the past. And it enrages me that things are bad enough now that my instinct is that I need to hide who I am to receive appropriate medical care.

I wish I had some sort of final thought to tie this all together other than, “this sucks and I hate it,” but I really don’t. I could call for people to examine their antisemitic biases, but I’m not foolish enough to think that this will reach the people who need to do so. I could wish for a future where everything I’ve talked about here exists only in history books, and the Jewish experience is no longer tied to feeling this pain, but that’s basically wishing for the moshiach, and I’m not going to hold my breath.

I guess I’ll end it with the thought that through all of this hate and pain and fear, we’re still here. And we’re still joyful as well. As much as so many people have tried over literally THOUSANDS of years to eradicate us, I’m still here, I’m still Jewish, and being Jewish still makes me happy.

Am Yisrael Chai.

#antisemitism #judaism #venting #jumblr #long post #I'm not kidding it's like 2300 words #and it's a rambling mess #but i needed to vent #so help me god #if you show up in the notes and are being antisemitic I WILL find you and I WILL bite you

[neil-gaiman]

hiii :) firstly i’d just like to say i love your story very much and the representation in it has mattered to me a lot and made me feel really seen and also loved, in a sense, and i really hold it close to my heart. my question might seem a bit odd, and i’m sorry if it does, but there’s been a bit of debate about this lately and in the faqs i didn’t see any mention of this so i think it’s okay to ask ??? if it’s not obviously you can just ignore me but my question is: do you think it’s okay for lesbians to view and discuss aziraphale and crowley through a lesbian lens ? is it welcome for us to discuss them with a sort of imagining of them as lesbians ? this isn’t a request to make that canon or anything, because genuinely i think not explicitly labeling them is wonderful, but i do wonder about it since it tends to get a more negative reception in the fandom space (at least on twitter, i’m not on tumblr enough to know if it receives the same level of negativity here).

I can’t see why not. They aren’t men, even if they are played by male actors.

[galedekarios]

just musing about gale and his parents:

we only have a handful of conversations where he mentions his parents and when he does, it's usually only his mother, morena dekarios.

his mother is mentioned at several points in the game. during a custom protag playthrough, he mentions her in a datamined conversation that appears to be bugged/broken:

and he mentions her at the end of the game as well when he proposes to the player:

i was also able to find another mention in a banter with karlach that usually happens for me shortly after recruiting her:

from gale's origin, this aspect is explored even more deeply:

there's more, of course, and it very clearly shows that the bond he shares with his mother is a deep and loving one from both sides. it's also very interesting that he is called dekarios after his mother and not--even though naming conventions could certainly vary even in waterdeep--after his father.

who he doesn't mention at all.

the only time we do get a vague mention is during a conversation with the protag after saving mirkon from the harpies:

after that, i haven't been able to find any reference, indirect or direct, to gale's father in the game.

so, here we enter theory territory:

i feel that, from a narrative point of view, in keeping with what i think gale's themes are, gale's father may have abandoned gale and his mother when gale was still young.

gale's character is rife with what might be interpreted as abandonment issue and it makes sense to me at least that those weave through his life up until the point where the protag meets him in the game.

another theme with gale is that he appears to have a lot of female figures in this life, who all had a profound impact on him, whether that impact is positive or negative: morena, tara, and yes, mystra.

it feels like to me that he had no father figure--and i use that term a bit more loosely here--until later in his life with elminster. this is already hinted at in a game with a custom protag, but all the more solidified in a gale origin playthrough:

i think without directing telling you, the game does allow you to sort of guess at that part of his background in this way, and understand why gale is as he is as a consequence. you can also understand why he acts as he does with elminster. seeking his approval. yearning for it. being extremely hurt by elminster having to see him like this when mystra sends him to gale to deliver her... instructions. this almost pointed absence of a mention of his father in all his comments (and tara's too, now that i think about it) when it comes to family is glaring to me.

being left, being abandoned, makes it much more understandable to me why he doesn't speak of him at all: if gale's father had died, it would make more sense to me that he would remark on it or share it in some way or another. it might have come up in a banter with wyll, perhaps, who is struggling with the expectations his own father had placed on him.

"he died when i was still very young." perhaps, or something along the lines of, "i barely remember him; he died when i was only a child.", etc etc etc.

YET if gale's father indeed abandoned his mother--who he holds in such high regard, and not to mention his own hurt--i can easily see and understand why he wouldn't waste a word on him.

anyhow yes, this is long and ramble-y, and i 100% might be reading too much into what may be a simple oversight, but it was interesting to me and i still see it as tying in with the theme of abandonment, even though we don't know the reasons for it in this particular case.

was it not wishing to deal with a child with magical talents he couldn't control yet? was it for another reason entirely?

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #meta: mybg3

[tonilovessushi]

NETEYAM HAVING CAT ATTRIBUTES HEADCANONS

➻❥ neteyam sully x human! gn! reader

➻❥ just pure fluff

➻❥ warnings: mentions of injury (blink and you'll miss it)

( find the one for lo'ak here and the one for ao'nung here )

( masterlist | requests )

So, let's break it down, shall we?

first of all, the tail

i've seen many people writing it with the characteristics of a dogs and that's cool, i like that, but i think it would be more like a cat's

it would lift up whenever he sees you

like, instantly

he wouldn't even realize it until you tease him about it

it also reflects the more ... possesive protective side of neteyam

would often wrap it around your body and it isn't always subcontious

for example, when the sullys plus you arrived at the metkayina's village

when aonung and rotxo were teasing you for not having a tail any blue skin, you instantly felt something brushing against the skin of your leg and then neteyams tail wrapping around your stomach, marking you his while he was staring the cocky metkayinans down

habits like this always earn him a bunch of whisteling and teasing from his siblings but he finds it totally normal

especially since you are human and in need of a bit of extra looking after

would wrap it around your middle or waist when you both were with other people, and around your legs when you guys were cuddling

he's such a sucker for affection

spooning :)

he's the big spoon, if course, and his tail will find one of your legs and wrap around it more softly to keep you even closer

it's also very sensitive

will flinch every time you touch it, but not neccesarily in a negative way since every time it happens, his cheecks would be a darker shade of blue and his freckles would begin to glow more brightly (i saw this headcanon of his freckles glowing as a form of blushing somewhere and i'm a huge fan)

the thing is, you love playing with it and you know exactly the effect it has on him

when you two sit next to each other, you'd always scoot your hand closer and closer while his tail would twitch in a mix of impatient anticipation and emberassement

you're the only one who gets to touch his tail like this

Also, his ears

Movable

So cute

He loves it when you scratch his ears and knead them between your fingers lovingly

it's a great stress reliever and will calm him down instantly if he's angry or frustrated

you just have to get there, you know? you are pretty fucking short

his ears always move in your direction when you say something, even if you two are having a conversation with all of his siblings

it's like he doesn't want to miss one second of hearing your voice

it's also one way to express how much you and your opinion mean to him snd how much respect he has for you

His eyes reflect light like we saw in the movie

just a little detail, as well as his nose, which is, as we all know, very similar to a cat's

nose touching

absolutely. it's his way of forehead touching

nudging each others noses before and after kissing

he finds it almost as good as the kiss itself

his eyes are also far better than a humans, as well as all of his senses

you find his fangs absolutely fascinating

He thinks it's a bit weird, how you make a habit of touching them when you get the chance to, and will kinda laugh at you for it

you don't care

those are also pretty intimate moments, when your fingers linger against his lips and he's closing his eyes, waiting for you to end your study and finally kiss him

Has a very touchy and affectionate side

Loves to cuddle and rub your face against his

he actually does that a lot

nudging your jaw with his forehead or strocking your cheeks with his chin

neteyam never hisses at you in a bad way

one time he did, he was angry, mostly at lo'ak, and when you tried to calm him down, he got mad at you

"No, it's not alright, Y/N!"

he instantly regretted it, apologizing profusely and taking you into his arms

but he'd do it playfully more often

for example, when you two were being lazy for once and sunbathing on top of the hallelujah mountains and you splashed water into his face

it was followed by a yelp, then his eyes found yours and he hissed playfully

you tried to escape his wrath but you had no chance

you had done five steps before his hands found your waist from behind and he imprisoned you in his arms and hissed into your ear teasingly

to punish you, he turned you around and showered you with a handful of water and a lot of kisses

would probably also gift you his bait after a hunt (my cat does that a lot)

it's more of a symbolic thing, since you can't possibly eat a whole animal by yourself and most of it lands in the stomach of others

but neteyam knows he'll get a reward every time he hunts something down for you in form of a kiss or more when he escorts you back to the lab at night

And, last but not least, purring

does it when you scratch his ears or kiss his neck

That's his soft spot

Its a rolling, smooth and soothing sound

it also betrays him when he pretends not to be affected by your touch in public or when he's pouting

for example, when you were patching up his wounds after a raid went wrong and he was in the midst of a conversation with his sister. your gentle touch was enough to get him to purr softly and instantly being emberassed when his grandma and sister began to laugh at him

will start purring uncontrolably whenever he enjoys himself the most

neteyam will try to tune it down because he thinks it's emberassing, but you're doing everything you can think of to get a purr out of him

lo'ak will absolutely make fun of him for it

"aww, did they make you soft, bro?"

but you will glare at lo'ak until he instead begins to laugh at you

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam sully x reader #avatar x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #avatar #atwow #atwow x reader #neteyam imagine #sully siblings #neteyam x human reader #neteyam headcanons #neteyam sully headcanons #neteyam fluff #neteyam is a simp

[doobea]

BLLK - REACTIONS TO "I NEED TO GET SOMETHING BACK FROM MY EX."

contents: gn!reader is missing an item that they left at their ex's, their boyfriend isn't too pleased to hear. established relationship, sfw, lots of clinginess and jealousy ensued, a bit possessive (chigiri) characters mentioned: isagi, reo, chigiri, nagi, shidou a/n: this was fun to write hehe

Isagi

He scowls and stops what he's doing, making sure that he heard you right. Usually, he's a pretty secure guy and ever since you guys have been dating there weren't any major red flags or issues in the relationship aside from minor arguments here and there. He's wondering where this is coming from.

"I'm sure it's not all that important, babe." He emphasizes the pet name to knock a little bit of sense to you.

"But Yoichi, it's my emotional support animal." You plead, explaining that you had accidentally left your stuffed teddy bear over at their place after a date and ever since then you've been having trouble sleeping soundly.

Isagi groans and is quick to put on a pair of sneakers, knowing that he can't say no to your puppy eyes. "Okay, but we are washing them at least five times."

"The water bill tho—"

"Five times!"

Reo

Your boyfriend smiles, pulling you into a deep embrace and raking his fingers through your hair before firmly saying, "Absolutely not."

"W-What? But that was my favorite necklace, I have to get it back!" You had saved up so much of your time and money to buy the piece of jewelry you were eyeing for a while. It just so happened that your ex stole it from you during an argument.

Reo knows about this, and he knows that you hate it when he showers you with too many gifts, but he simply refuses to let you revisit a person who even treated you like that in the first place. Eventually, he convinces you to let it go, who would even want a necklace that now carries negative sentiment anyway. "Just let me know which one you want, okay?"

You sigh in defeat and nod, nose brushing against his. "Thanks, Reo."

"Say," Reo begins to twirl with the ends of your hair, "how much does the earth cost?"

You blink at his question. "Uh—"

"I'll buy you the whole earth."

"Baby what?!"

Chigiri

"Go on ahead, darling." Chigiri doesn't look up from the book he's reading and, with a free hand, he takes a long sip from his coffee.

You look at him with surprise, "Really?"

"Mhm," He flicks to the next page. "Just drive safe and tell them I said hi."

It was almost too good to be true for his oddly calm behavior but you didn't have time to worry over it. You really needed to hurry and retrieve back your passport from your ex before who knows what might happen. You plant a chaste kiss on your boyfriend's forehead before heading out.

"I'll be back soon, Hyoma!"

The door shuts with a quiet click and he puts down the book that had his phone tucked in the middle with your location flashed on. When he sees that you're on the go, he grabs his car keys and silently tails you behind, just to be sure your ex doesn't pull anything weird.

Nagi

The big sloth of a man pretends to not hear you. Even when you repeated your sentence again, saying you needed an old film camera back, he drowns himself in the sounds coming from his computer.

"Seishiro, are you mad? It'll be quick." You promise but he doesn't budge from his chair.

He hums in thought, his grey eyes dotting around the in-game map before finally replying, "Lovebug, can't they just deliver it? Going all the way there would be a hassle."

"I don't mind Sei, it's honestly fine, I don't want them to pay a delivery fee for it."

Nagi pouts, wondering why you're acting considerate for someone who's an ex. "That doesn't make sense."

"If I leave now, I can make it back before sundown and then we can—"

You're caught off guard by the sudden large arms that now wrap around your waist, the grip is tight as Nagi could make it. He buries his face in the crook of your neck before pleading, "Mhm, I'll pay for their delivery fee if you can just stay here."

Shidou

Your boyfriend almost chokes on the sandwich he was eating, eyes widening as he gawks at you. He's always thought of you as his mischievous side-kick and co-conspirator in his schemes. Hearing that one, you had an ex was a shock to him, and two, you needed something back from them.

You told your boyfriend that you were merely attempting to retrieve some old clothes that a friend had requested back.

For a moment, Shidou was in deep thought before an uncanny grin crawls to his face. An expression that you're all too familiar with.

"Okay," He chimes a little too innocently, "how do you want to go about this?"

"What do you mean, Ryusei?"

"I mean how do we break in?"

#blue lock imagines #doobea writing #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #reo mikage #reo mikage x reader #nagi seishrio x reader #nagi seishiro #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri hyoma #shidou ryuusei x reader #shidou ryusei #blue lock scenarios

[theoddest1]

Let's Actually Talk About The Issues With Vivziepop

Okay, first off, hello you beautiful people! Sorry about this foreboding title, but I needed to catch y'all attention on this so I can break down the issues that I and many have with "Hazbin Hotel" and "Helluva Boss" creator, Vivienne Medrano. Now I am sure you all on here are already aware of at least a couple of the controversies that revolve around this particular creator and if you have seen my posts floating around already, some have been greeted with the problems surrounding her social media presence and just her overall as a person. I know seeing another callout on her seems very very tiring at this point, but I felt that a lot of the current callouts missed key details that were not at all addressed or properly delved on. I plan on shedding light on my issues with her and I hope you get where I am coming from when I say that she sucks.

BULLYING

Okay, I am starting off with Vivienne's blatant use of bully mentality, her agreeing or encouraging her fans to call people who see flaws in her works sub-humans or harass those who find issue or simply jest about her works trademark cussing and and overcrowded designs. She has had this issue for YEARS and refuses to grow up and act her age despite many telling her, even her own fans at times, that she shouldn't be acting so unprofessionally. Clearly, she doesn't care and thanks to her fanbase caring more about her feelings than her being better she feels as though she doesn't need to change or do better. This goes for her friend group as well, who defend her tremendously and act as though she is never in the wrong. Name one time a friend of hers called her out for acting childish, I'll wait.

Now, you're probably wondering, "Wtf could they have done to warrant such a response?"

Criticism...That's all they did. (White Text is random peeps they would speak with or maybe mutuals)

Keep in mind...they used to be a fan as well. They were also a minor at this point

But, Viv doesn't care, this person's critical yet harmless tweets about her shows is what lead to her painting them in a horrible light and making them out to be someone who has attacked her personally and as "nasty".

Rich coming from Viv since she is completely fine doing exactly that for "Ava's Demon". Not only does she criticize it, she takes a shot at the creator as well, but GOD FORBID others do the same towards her.

And according to someone who knew her well, it's all cause they felt creeped out by her.

Her hatred for criticism is so prominent that Ima makes that a section of its own. But let's get back on the topic of bullying.

Vivienne has a fanbase filled to the brim with pushy and overall annoying individuals who have harassed, threatened, disrespected, and wished harm on many people, all cause someone had a negative thing to say about Vivziepop's mid af show. One of the earlier known instances is the one revolving around a MEME of all things.

This was what started it all, and it led to both parties blocking each other and people being mad pushy and calling them an idiot and the like over their opinions. Now look, their take and you're opinion on said take is fine so long as you stay respectful and humane about it all, but don't dogpike someone all cause they think HH sucks. And while Viv can not control her fanbase, for they are not a hivemind (some of y'all act it tho, ima keep it real) she is seen here ENCOURAGING the behavior. Tell me how someone who doesn't even like your trash ass show has the sense to tell people not to harass others, someone with a smaller following, but not your grown damn near 30 year old ass?

Oh, but people wanna act like she can handle criticism, is a sweet person, and grew from her past experiences. Fam, she was 27 in this screenshot [December 16, 2019] and has shown no change from 2013 to fucking 2024. Over a decade of the same petty ass behavior, and keep in mind, according to several of her old friends and workers, she is worse behind close doors. WORSE. She's already acting like she got no damn sense out in the open, imagine behind closed doors.

Last but not least, a glimpse into her outright blatant slander towards Dollcreep, a once good friend of hers that she even visited and spoke with frequently!

She stated that they fetishized pedophilia yet according to the victim and friends of the victim who were once friends with Viv as well, Viv actually threatened to end their friendship if he hadn't drawn NSFW art of her character and his character having sex [Addi was 15 at the time this was drawn]

On top of that, she liked the post, something she didn't need to do. The art also depicted things she had regularly drawn on her own. Addi being tied up forcefully, being sexualized, being harmed to some degree through bondage, etc. The claim that she forced DC to draw this out is backed up by her own art depicting similar elements. Also, if my memory serves me well, Viv and Doll were 17-18 years old [Doll was 17 Viv 18] and have a 1-year age gap. The way Viv frames things here is as if DC was way older and imposed some sort of power over DC, which sources say otherwise. If anything, Viv had a LOT of control throughout all of this drama, which deserves its own section.

I'll be making posts that talk about the different issues regarding Viv, so one post isn't too long (this one is already lengthy enough) and that you can just pick at one post targeting certain issues around this creator.

#vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivienne medrano #vivziepop critique #anti spindlehorse #anti vivziepop #viv get a grip #vivziepop #hazbin #hazbin hotel #call out post #analysis #creator analysis #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin critical #hazbin critique

[bitchy-craft]

What They Find Attractive About You | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out what your person finds attractive about you. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterlist > Questions > Paid Readings

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

They find your eyes attractive because of the kindness that’s behind them, the mysteries that are behind them and that calculative look that is behind them. They love how you can share things or weigh certain options against one another to see which decision will have the best outcome. They love how you can be confident when voicing your opinion but are still able to be humble throughout.

They find the fact that you are a strong person attractive. And they love to see you grow in your confidence and knowledge; they love to see you successful and be independent. They adore you and find you such a powerful person. They find your persistency attractive; they love when you want to figure something out and understand something you chase that answer until you find it, you chase that explanation until you find it.

Pile 2:

They find your creativity attractive about you. They love how you are able to think of new and fun ideas and are really excited about them; they sometimes compare your excitement to being childish, but that’s what they like to see from time to time since you also have a serious side to you where you show your intellect and passion. Just you enjoying yourself and feeling happy they enjoy, they love to see you happy and love knowing that you feel confident enough to show these sides of your personality to them.

You might be a bit chaotic, and often times that may not come in handy, but they find it extremely charming to see you like that. Sometimes you may want to do things you deem not possible, but they are there to support your odd and creative ideas. And when you do have ideas you believe are possible, you’ll think them through a lot, they love your eye for detail and the mix between creativity and realistic thinking.

Pile 3:

They love how much you care about so many things, that you find the littlest of things amazing, that you appreciate every, little gift or thing that comes in your life. They love how much empathy you possess, although they do understand that it brings it’s negative effects from time to time.

You are punctual and know what you need to do to succeed or get to your goal. You have a certain precision you make happen with kindness, something they look up to. They love how you are humble and kind but are still able to give yourself a loud voice to get what you want and convince other people your opinion is a great one and does indeed matter. They also find it incredibly attractive to see how you can be passionate about something, yet still watch from the side-lines or walk away from it entirely when you realise it might not be something for you, or something you should mix yourself with. You can sense when your opinion is needed in a situation, and you can sense when it’s best to simply watch or leave it alone.

#pap #pac #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a photo #pick an image #pick a number #spirituality #spiritual #tarot #tarot reading #tarotoftheday #dailytarot #daily tarot #tarot deck #tarot readings #tarot cards #channeling #channeled message #divination #channeled reading #channeled messages #future spouse #fs #future spouse reading #fs reading #love #love reading #witchcraft #tarotblr

[anonymous-dentist]

Hi, I’m A.D., I’m a historian, and let’s talk about the nuclear bomb and why the one that exploded at the end of QSMP’s Purgatory Event probably didn’t kill all that many people upon initially exploding.

The nuclear bomb, as everybody knows, has only ever been used in a war twice. Both explosions were caused by the United States in their war against Japan at the tail end of World War Two in one final terrible last ditch attempt at ending the war through any means necessary.

Pictured above are the atomic explosions at Hiroshima (left) and Nagasaki (right.)

These are big huge clouds, which makes sense! Nuclear weapons, on average, have the strength of somewhere between 10 and 50 megatons of TNT. Hydrogen bombs, meanwhile, are WAY worse, with the first test coming in at a whopping 10 MILLION tons of TNT.

To put it in Minecraft terms for all you nerds out there, imagine Doomsday from the Dream SMP and how it razed an entire nation to bedrock level by using somewhere in the range of 20 stacks of TnT (if I’m remembering correctly.) A nuclear bomb, in these terms, would have blown L’Manberg up something like eight times over and then some.

So that’s. Bad. Right?

Well, here’s the QSMP’s bomb as was constructed by our favorite depressed detective, q!Maximus:

This bomb, notably, is underground. It was never dug up, it was just moved somewhere else. It isn’t above ground, and it never left this room. Watch the cutscene back (linked here), the bomb never left the room.

So this is where underground nuclear testing comes in.

Underground testing began in 1951, and it remains the only form of scientific nuclear testing not banned by the Limited Test Ban Treaty of 1963.

No big surprise, a lot of early underground tests were conducted by the US out in Nevada, where they kinda tested nukes legit fucking EVERYWHERE in the desert for a long time. Below are some photos, just for funsies:

What’s important about underground nuclear explosions is that they actually end up releasing less radiation into the atmosphere than regular nukes do. What happens beyond that depends on whether or not the radiation remains contained.

A contained explosion’s aftermath:

And an uncontained explosion’s aftermath:

There hasn’t really been many negative biological effects reported from these underground tests, which is really saying something considering how close to nuclear blasts the US had its guys at most of the time (see below)

The worst you got out of the underground tests was some radioactivity in cows’ milk, which is NOTHING compared to the effects of the above-ground nuclear testing at the Nevada Site:

So… what does this mean for the QSMP?

Well, if we’re going off of historical and scientific precedent, legitimately nothing substantial happened to the islands of Purgatory. There’s more of a risk of dying from the pre-established radioactive rain disaster effects as well as the earthquake and meteor disasters.

Fun fact! Underground nuclear explosions usually registered as weaker than actual fault line activity, aka actual earthquakes.

If Maxo’s nuke was dropped from above, the devastation would be greater. Nuclear fallout is no joke; even today, cancer rates in the American West are still pretty high from the above-ground testing conducted at the Nevada Site. The Bikini Atoll will never be the same after all the testing the US did there, either.

But, because this nuke seemed to have gone off underground, I can safely assume that the damage done to the islands above was minimal at worst. Maybe there’s a radioactivity leak, but everybody staying on the islands had already experienced radiation up to that point.

It’s important to remember this because several characters did stay behind on the islands, and the fandom is assuming them dead because, well. A nuke went off. But those characters aren’t dead yet (outside of q!Maxo, who was possibly directly above the nuke when it went off and thus would’ve been hit full-force by the explosion.) Many were on the beach, far from the the nuke. They’re fine, and you can prove it with history!

TLDR; the nuke from the end of Purgatory was assumedly set off underground, which would have negated a lot of its potential damage, so everybody’s fine except for the unfortunately deceased q!Maxo

#long post #qsmp #I’m not a nuke expert BUT I do specialize in the Cold War

[qweerhet]

i have come to realize over the past few days that a lot of bad transfeminist takes on this website are percolating in spaces where it's presumed the transfem experience is one of either attempting to be recognized as a woman socially, or wanting to be recognized as a woman socially but not attempting (with an unspoken "yet" attached), and suddenly everything coming out of those spaces about transmisogyny makes sense.

transmisogyny never applies to men because if you're a woman, you know it already. or if it does apply to men, it always benefits them, because someone who looks like a man and occupies the social role of man could never actually be a woman, at least until they start trying to occupy the social role of woman. if a woman is closeted, she'll come out eventually. people who don't chemically or surgically transition and continue to use he/him are selfishly benefiting from transmisogyny, and don't want to come out because they benefit too much from enacting violence on trans women. transfems are always treated as failed women, and never as failed men, because being transfem means trying to be recognized as a woman. nobody could ever see a real transfem as a man, only men are seen as men, and transfems do things like use she/her and wear women's clothes and go on estrogen, which means everyone knows they're transfem. transfems who are men aren't a part of this conversation. tma people who aren't women don't exist because transmisogyny comes from being perceived as a woman.

and it's like. well. i certainly know lots of people who would directly contest & cleanly disprove your presumptions here (i mean. myself being one of them, even though i do present femme full-time!), but you'll never get the chance to have your worldview shifted, because you've made your social spaces profoundly unfriendly to them!

even if you've already made an effort to decouple transmedicalism from your theory, you still have to make an effort to actually engage with & understand the material experiences of people who don't align with current narratives about transition at all. transfems who use all pronouns and grow massive beards while on e and never legally change their names or gender markers. transneutral and transandrogynous tma people. trans women who refer to themselves as women but do not want to chemically or surgically transition or publicly use pronouns other than he/him, ever. full-time female impersonators who solely use she/her and chemically and surgically transition, but still identify as men. and you have to really engage with what we say about transmisogyny, as in, listen in good faith and understand what we're expressing about its functions in our daily lives!

or you could circlejerk forever about how being a woman is the be-all-end-all of experiencing transmisogyny and personal identification is one and the same as material conditions of privilege, to the point that personal identification automatically prescribes material privilege. and shut out a solid chunk of tma people from your gender theory permanently and irrevocably. and implicitly call a solid chunk of tma people liars for talking about daily life experiences. that's cool too, definitely won't have any negative consequences for trans community and trans spaces in the broader world or anything.

[2018-01-20]

for the longest time, ever since you first met dan heng, you have never been able to envision him with a lover.

you don’t even intend to think that in a negative way. you know that, underneath his (stupidly pretty) poker face and all of that grand seriousness, there is at least some love and passion in him. it’s more in a platonic sense, however—like the way he checks on tired astral express passengers by anonymously dropping off tea in their rooms, or how he gives backhanded compliments to march to make her huff and laugh at the same time. even the way he subtly looks at the trailblazer for any signs of exhaustion from all the work they put on their shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

you know that deep inside, dan heng really does care a lot for the people around him.

“what are you doing here?”

you let out a quiet hum as you slowly close the door to the archives behind you, turning your head to observe the bookshelves that decorate the walls. dan heng recognizes the tune you’re humming as your favorite song that plays often in the parlor car.

“do i need a reason to be here?” pulling your eyes away from the books around you, you tilt your head to him and match his questioning eyes with your playful ones. he eventually sighs, leaning his chair back as you attempt to hide the eagerness in the steps that you take in his direction. “i still can’t believe you like to sleep in this room every night. you’re already in here all day.”

you stand before him as he’s still seated comfortably beside his desk, and your face start to feel a little warm when you see the earphones of his that currently lay idly on his shoulders when they had previously been in his ears when you first entered the room. the way he holds your eye contact never fails to make your heart do flips in your chest. you swear you can go crazy just by looking at how beautiful he is just sitting in a chair, waiting for you to do something, anything.

“i missed you,” you finally whisper. and although he doesn’t say it back like you knew he wouldn’t, he does trail a hand to your jaw to gently cup your face as he pulls you in close. your lips meet his in no time.

there is something about dan heng that no one knows but you. and it’s that he doesn’t kiss like there are fireworks going off, or like there are sparks flying everywhere, or like it is the end of the universe—he kisses like he has reserved all of the time in the world just for you. he kisses like you are his favorite sweet. he kisses you slowly with both patience and expectancy.

he tilts his head to make it more comfortable for the both of you, his other hand hooking around your waist to slyly urge you onto his lap (which you of course do without protest). you don’t hesitate to place your hands onto his chest, and the approving hum he lets out against your lips has you going incredibly dizzy. minutes easily feel like hours when dan heng has you close in his hold.

you don’t even want to get started on the way he carefully takes his time, but also kisses you in a way that shows he craves absolutely nothing but you.

when you are finally, although reluctantly, pulling away, you are met with the sight of a slightly panting dan heng that looks at you without a worry on his mind. your head feels feverish as the hand on your hip moves to lightly hold the back your neck, and the next thing you know, you’re only centimeters away from him again.

“don’t stop,” he shamelesly breathes out, before moving towards you once more.

ever since you first met dan heng, he has stumped you in more ways than one. like the way you became the lover of his you never expected him to have, or the way he would rather show both his platonic and romantic love with his actions instead of his words.

but his kisses and touch are reserved only for you. the one he holds dear and close. the one he can truly love without holding back.

you.

#(elmo voice) read slowly for maximum enjoyment please :]]]]] #୨୧ — 📖 : boo’s novelties ! #dan heng x reader #dan heng fluff #danheng x reader #danheng fluff #dan heng drabbles #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fluff #kinda suggestive #? #cw suggestive

[gabessquishytum]

Time and Night Endless have a problem. Their darling son Dream has been dating a man completely not of their class, a shameless and uncouth ruffian, by the name of Hob Gadling. While they did make their disapproval known, they were inclined to leave it at that, as surely this was merely a rebellious phase on Dream’s part; at some point he would come to his senses, end the relationship, and settle down with someone more suitable.

Except they have heard through the family grapevine that not only has Dream not come to his senses, but he is in fact planning on proposing to the dreadful man. That he has in fact purchased a ring already! Clearly something must be done.

They arrange a private meeting with Hob and offer him fifty-thousand pounds to break up with their son before the proposal, preferably publicly enough that they can be sure he did it, and so it decreases the likelihood of reconciliation.

Hob only hesitates for a moment before agreeing.

Time and Night walk away from the meeting feeling incredibly smug that they’ve saved their dear son from an inappropriate relationship with a blatant gold digger.

Hob walks away from the meeting pulling out his phone to call Dream. “Hey love, how would you like to con your parents out of a shit ton of money?”

Three days later, Dream and Hob have a giant blow-up fight in the middle of a friendly gathering—Desire was there filming the whole thing and had gleefully uploaded it to every social media platform they have, so the Endless parents can see for themselves. It’s pretty ugly: there’s accusations of cheating, loud negative allusions to their sex life, Dream even throws in a “my mother was right about you” for good measure. It’s a goddamn disaster of a shouting match that ends in the world's messiest breakup.

Time and Night would be horrified by the scandal if they weren’t so pleased with the results. Hob Gadling may not be an acceptable partner for one of their children, but at least he certainly does deliver. They wire the money to him with absolutely no remorse, considering it money well-spent.

A week later, a new video is uploaded to Hob and Dream’s social media accounts: the two of them side-by-side, leaning into each other's touch like love-drunk teenagers, fingers entwined and sporting beautiful engagement rings, as they announce their reconciliation and engagement.

“Communication has always been the key to a successful relationship, and all we really needed to do was sit down and talk to each other like adults. Any issues we may have had have been resolved, and if it weren't for the people close to us who didn't want to see us fall apart, we might not be here today,” Hob says, grinning ear to ear. 

“I would particularly like to offer my greatest, most heartfelt thanks for our upcoming marriage to my parents,” Dream says with an evil glint in his eye. “They not only engineered our reconciliation, they selflessly gave fifty-thousand pounds of their own money to help pay for the wedding and honeymoon. We can't thank them for their kindness and support enough.”

Hob then grabs his fiance and dips him before kissing the life out of him, and that’s where the video ends.

Night faints and Time breaks a priceless vase.

(Desire also gleefully shares this video on the same platforms as the first one, and helpfully tags their parents with it to boot. It was actually fun scheming with their brother for the first time in a long time, and they may or may not be planning to stitch the two videos together into a small tasteful movie as a wedding present (and perhaps providing a copy to their parents as well))

-🪽anon

I love the "evil parent offers main character a lot of money to break up with love interest" vibe. Whatever happens you just KNOW its going to end badly for the parents!

And really, they should have known better. Hob is a shameless ruffian and an experienced conman, OF COURSE he was going to pull some kind of trick. He's actually really pleased because he was worried that Dream wouldn't get his perfect wedding, because Hob’s meagre salary won't stretch to a big budget. With the "generous contribution" from mum and dad, Dream can make his gorgeous goth wedding fantasies a reality.

Dream has an amazing time at the fittings for all the wedding outfits, and Desire even has a hand in designing the most gorgeous jumpsuit for Dream to wear at the reception. They're totally invested in this wedding and keep feeding Dream and Hob information about their parents latest plans to sabotage the big day. This leads to Dream getting in touch with their estranged younger brother, who is thrilled to a) be invited to the wedding and b) provide security on the big day! He's built like a brick wall so no attempted shenanigans will get past him.

There won't be any trouble at the wedding, anyway. Hob has a few of his old pals on the job, and they will make sure that the Endless parents are tragically prevented from reaching the venue on time. So sad. Its okay though, because Desire will be putting together a beautiful wedding movie for everyone to watch after the honeymoon!

When asked by their society friends about their new son in law, Night and Time will grit their teeth and smile. He's a very... resourceful man. Not what they'd imagined for Dream, but he seems happy enough. And there was a prenup, so it can't be that bad if (hopefully when) they get a divorce.

Yeah.......they're never getting a divorce!

#🪽anon #the sandman #dreamling

[astaroth1357]

My Incredibly Spoiler Heavy Thoughts on Nightbringer

TURN BACK IF YOU HAVE ANY INTEREST IN PLAYING THE GAME AT ALL. I MEAN IT.

Hello. I have completed all 10 lessons on the Normal difficulty. These are my thoughts:

First, a disclaimer. All of this is my opinion. If you feel differently about a character or plot point, that's fine. This is all just as I see it.

Holy hell, I love the setup here so damn much. The Nightbringer story so far is truly more than just a rehash of the OG plot, largely because of all the small stuff that keeps happening in background. Yes, we're befriending the brothers again, but we don't know WHY. Why are we in the past? Who sent us there? What do they want from us, or... what do they want out of somebody else?? 👀 I have to hand it to the writers for coming up with this premise, it's soild. Will they stick the landing...? We'll see.

The New! (Old) Cast

Lucifer:

Whelp, Luci is being colder to us than ever... But far more openly involved with his brothers than we saw previously. You can really tell that this is fresh off of the War and he's just trying his best to keep everybody corralled and (somewhat) comfortable.

He still holds onto his Celestial Realm prejudice against demons, so he doesn't trust MC at all which is an interesting turn on the dynamic from before. As a human, Lucifer saw us as weak and insignificant so he didn't give us much time of day. But as a "demon," and someone more knowledgeable about the Devildom than himself, he has to suck it up and rely on MC even if he wants them to stay away.

By the end of Lesson 10, it's safe to say whatever trust he had in MC is going to be shattered. MC has talked their way out of a lot, but even Dia looks shaken by their abilities this time... I'm curious to see if they can reestablish a relationship with him when he was already keeping them at arms length to start with.

Mammon:

Ah, Mammon... Once simp, forever a simp across time and space. Bless him. I guess he's just doomed to always fall first when it comes to MC. It DOES NOT take long for him to be down bad even if you don't romance him specifically (I would know because I'm trying to stay mono-Levi this go around).

Aside from his tsundere-ness, though, we do get a look into more of his insecurities. I find an interesting pattern developing in him where he just tends to latch onto a person and follow them unfailing. He did that with Lucifer before the Fall, he didn't even think about the consequences before going through with it. You could see him doing much the same with MC. I think it stems from a lack of confidence in himself and his own abilities, constantly relying on others to guide him through big decisions and provide him with validation. Add another poor thing to the list...

Leviathan:

I swear to God, the devs realized that Levi's charm lies in his pathos, so they went out of the way to make him EVEN MORE pathetic than normal. I still love him for it, of course. But seriously, Levi starts out practically afraid of his own shadow when the story starts. It makes sense, Levi would have probably one of the more negative impressions of demons of the seven, having fought them head on. He was a shut in before the War and now he's even more terrified to leave the house, let alone his room... (I can't be the only one who's wondering how the hell Dia's going to look at him and go, "Ah yes! I see Admiral material right there!" right?)

I do like that the writers took the time to show that he's one of the more empathetic brothers, right alongside Asmo and Beel, even if he's bad with people. Levi is quick to sympathize with beings and creatures who don't fit in and it's always very sweet to see. I also guess that Simeon wrote TSL in secret or after the War? You think he would know of it at least having lived so long with the author... Anyway. I digress.

There's a lot of... small things around Levi that I think hint at the inner feelings of the brothers, though (of all seven of them, he has the WORST poker face I swear). I may touch on those in another post because I need time to gather my thoughts on how it all connects there... Anyway, he's still my favorite and I'm going to try to see if there's any truth to this "you get a deeper connection if you stick to one brother" thing. Wish me luck.

Satan:

Okay, load your guns now because I think Satan is the real star of the show here. They're actually pulling way more than the "He's mad because he's seen like Lucifer" card. We're at a point where Satan doesn't even consider himself associated with the brothers AT ALL. That means something and has consequences on the story. He didn't even go with them to check on Beel, despite having enough fire power that he could have probably helped a lot.

Now before someone goes screaming at me that they've devolved him into comic relief, I'd first like to ask what did you think he was going to be? OG Satan told us himself that he used to feel nothing but anger. He's going to be pissed, irrational, and violent. He's Wrath.

What truly they're giving us under all of that is a look into a vulnerable guy who doesn't know anything about the world around him and is trying to pick it up on his own because his brothers can't (and maybe won't) teach him. They keep chaining him up (which I hate btw) and talk about him like he's a beast. But it's partially because they're such terrible communicators that he flies off the handle so often to begin with.

Satan is more alone than really anybody else is the Devildom. His brothers already have all this history together and memories shared during their time as angels, stuff he has no context for and could never experience himself. He's still an outcast among demons for his association with them, despite being a fully fledged demon in his own right, and he doesn't know why he has to be linked to them because he barely knows them anyway. He's taking baby steps to understand the world, but when he goes to his brothers to ask questions they lampshade him for even having clear thoughts. All they see him as is a roaring beast. This version of Satan is fascinating to me. How does he start here and end up the eloquent, emotionally-controlled bookworm with a planet's worth of connections? I gotta know!!

Asmodeus:

They FINALLY started giving Asmo his proper flowers! I still think it could have been more, but he's gotten way more depth than he had before. I know that Asmo part technically involved MC's input the least out of all of the brothers, but I think that was by design.

Asmo is a surprisingly introspective individual under his urge to perform. MC didn't have to give much input because he just didn't need as much. He knows himself very well (unlike some of the others). He's an emotionally intelligent guy who can sort out his own inner problems and remain empathetic enough to want to help his brothers in his own way. I wanted to hear more from this side of Asmo, honestly, but the game seems to make it clear that he's content with his spot of being the family's brightest smile. I hope it makes more appearances as we go on.

Beelzebub:

This one is tricky, because lesson 10 leaves off on a cliffhanger related to Beel... So I think Beel's feelings will have more consequences than the other brothers' on the story. Most of all that we see of Beel is, unfortunately, him being hungry or off being wholesome with Belphie but lesson 10 did give us some eye-openers regardless.

First, apparently if he flies off the handle, Beel is quite the challenge to handle. It takes Dia himself to restrain him, which is pretty insane for the sixthborn in the line-up. It's possible some outside magic is cranking up his power somehow, but we won't know until the next lessons are out.

Secondly, I find it very interesting that Beel's "heart-to-heart" moment with us is being saved for last... It was definitely the most surprising one of the secrets in the teasers (in my opinion). Beel and Belphie are glued to the hip and share everything together so for him to have a secret "not even Belphie" knows is pretty shocking. I hope it's not just that he saved Belphie instead of Lilith since we all already know that. It'd be a pretty cheap pay off to all this buildup... Not that I haven't been disappointed before or anything.

Belphegor:

Similar to Beel, Belphie doesn't get much attention until the end and it isn't much that we haven't heard before, unfortunately. You kind can't blame them, since plumbing out Belphie's inner trauma about the War was the entire climax of the first game. It's nothing we don't already know. That being said, I think there's some more interesting things that are being said about Belphie or left unsaid by the others that I find more fascinating to keep track of.

TLDR, I think there's some weird distancing going on between Belphie and the others. It doesn't seem super apparent, but Levi dropped some weird bombshells early on and I can't help but notice how he just never seems to be without Beel. Those two are close, yeah, but in this game they're practically a unit. I'm pretty sure Belphie is using Beel as a security blanket of sorts. He's also the ONLY one to mention Lilith in any great detail. Unsurprising, but it's worth noting that the others haven't really brought her up despite it (supposedly) starting the War.

Diavolo:

Somebody give this guy a vacation and a raise... So apparently, the brothers were cast down, the old King took one look at them and counted to seven, then conked out. Now our boy has to rule the kingdom. He's... the same really. As far as I can tell. You can really see how much he's taken to the brothers' antics though, which checks out in the other game too.

WAAAY more fascinating to me is apparently there's some kind of body called the House of Lords who think that Dia is too young for the job. What's the House of Lords?? Who are they? Are they like a council or advisory board...? Or is this a UK setup? Is there a Parliamentary board?? I dunno, could just be my Poli Sci talking but I'm now so lost on how the Devildom operates now...

Barbatos:

Oh my God, if there is any character I could live vicariously through, it was Barbs here. For whatever unnamed reason he is NOT having any of Solomon's shit right now and I'm living for it. Setting my delight aside, we don't get to see very much of him and what we do see doesn't really differ from the norm, which only makes his detest all the more shocking.

Through Barbs, we also see just how potent the power of the pacts can be when Solomon summons him and more or less forces him to do as he says. Nothing seems to stop him from retaliating after the fact, as he sent Solomon off who knows where, but seeing that kind of power wielded over a being who's almost unattainable to us is... Well. I feel bad for Asmo.

Simeon:

There's a lot to unpack with Simeon... and a lot of it is in the stuff that goes unsaid. First, I already found it strange that he didn't seem surprised to see Satan in the House. Or if he was, he didn't say it or bother introducing himself which is... telling for a guy like Simeon. He's back to being Luke's minder in front of demons, but I can't help but notice that he doesn't do much to counter Luke's tirades. He only indicates that it's impolite to say them, so he may still harbor the very same feelings.

Simeon and Lucifer have something of a heart to heart together that they never would in the OG title where Simeon admits his biggest regret. It isn't that he didn't follow Lucifer, as we might think, but that he doesn't feel like did enough to reach out to him before he made his decision. Lucifer dispells this, but I think it goes to show that Simeon stands behind his decision to stay and that it was the better option. Lucifer also confront Simeon on why he didn't take a high position (seraph) and instead settled for archangel. It's left open ended what his real motives for that would be, but I suspect that it has something to do with Simeon's troubling streak of going against the grain, even in subtle ways. Or he has too much anger about what happened to accept taking Lucifer's old position.

I found it interesting how easily these two seemed to talk about intimate topics together here where Lucifer barely even acknowledges Simeon's attempts to reach out in the OG story. I wonder what may have happened to sour their relationship so severely...?

Luke:

Luke the Racist Chihuahua returns!! Okay, I'm being a little mean but he's pretty much just self-righteous little kid the whole way through. I will admit, it is a little funny that the person who came up with the nickname was actually Lucifer. I think it's now retconned and confirmed that Luke and the brothers never knew each other before the Fall... though Luke seems to know OF their former selves in some capacity. I could be misinterpreting things though.

The Rat Bastard Solomon:

I swear to God this was me playing through the whole game tied to this guy.

He's lying. A lot. Constantly. And it pisses me off to no end. I was wondering why things he was saying and the stuff he was doing weren't lining up and OF COURSE it's because he's either working his own agenda or being outright deceitful. I hate him so much, y'all, you don't even know...

That aside, as an impartial observer Solomon is pulling a lot of work to support MC and you can TELL how down bad he is for them, which actually has significance for the plot I think. He's keeping them in the dark about something, but considering his feelings I say we can at least be charitable and assume it isn't to hurt them or cause them any suffering... intentionally. He's also as unscrupulous as ever, considering how he ordered a very angry Barbs around and more or less took advantage of a life or death situation to make a pact with Asmo.

So. At the end of the lessons, we're reintroduced to the mysterious Nightbringer. The character who actually sent us back in time at the start of the game. Yeah, it wasn't Barbatos... probably. At least not our reliable neighborhood butler anyway. They seem to be different entities but I THINK they might share some connection....

I have to wonder who disguised MC when they first arrived. The marketing made it seem like it would be Solomon but the marketing has been hit or miss on actual accuracy about the game we're seeing. If it was Solomon, then he had to have known where the MC was before he called. If it was Nightbringer then... well actually. We need to touch on that first.

Nightbringer:

Now, much of this is just me speculating so take things with a grain of salt. Nightbringer's name is blocked out, but it seems like it identified itself to us in the beginning before sending us to the past. It appears like it wants something from Solomon.... to fully corrupt him maybe? And it's using MC as leverage against him.

I suspect that all of the weird stuff that has been happening is tied to its meddling in some way, but to what end is unclear... Sending Levi and MC into TSL, tricking Asmo then trying to feed everyone to a spider, and, likely, whatever is going on with Beel. I can't tell if it's trying to push MC and the brother's closer together, or just making vaguely comical attempts at homicide by fictional characters, spider, and Gluttony incarnate.

The situation with Adam does give us a hint into its nature. It appears to be some kind of dark, trickster being that gives a person what they desire, but never the way they intended. A walking monkey's paw, if you will. Solomon says that Nightbringer made him what he is today, so perhaps he worked under it or is simply under the influence of one its "deals." Their relationship is adversarial, though. When they're speaking, they talk about the two supernatural sides, Angel and Demon, and Nightbringer seems to want to force Solomon to make a choice between them. Lose his humanity, maybe?

I'm not quite willing to say that Nightbringer is a demon just yet, at least not one of the ones we normally encounter. Something about it seems... older. More powerful than that. But we'll have to wait for more info.

My crackpot theory?

Solomon has made a deal with Nightbringer in order to go back in time and do... something. He's after something. Nightbringer agreed, but dragged MC along as collateral for Solomon to get it done within a certain amount of time or makes sure he honors his part of the bargin. Barbatos knows this, either because he is linked to in some way to Nightbringer or saw it happen in the doorway, and is disgusted by his actions but unable to speak about it due to the pact. Or, you know. That's our present Barbie also dragged along for the ride and he's pissed that he's been essentially hijacked and taken away from present Diavolo, but forbidden to speak about it.

#i may do ONE LAST analysis post #over my speculation #and just weird stuff I saw #but after that #it’s back to the normal content #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me nightbringer #obey me analysis #obey me nightbringer analysis #om spoilers #omn spoilers #obey me spoliers #obey me nb spoilers #obey me nighbringer spoilers

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 19.

Summary: We follow Oliver Quick in the aftermath of that night in the bathtub. In the days that follow, however, and the Arts Collective dinner drawing ever closer, you seem unusually upset. However, once he meets your mother at the party, a lot of things start to make an unfortunate amount of sense.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; masturbation, fantasies and memories of bathtub activities, pervert/enabler dynamics. Also reader's mum is in this chapter so we have warnings for implied child neglect & family trauma, as well as reader talking negatively about themselves a lot.

A/N: 8997 words. OLIVER POV and a huge chapter to sink your teeth into. goes many places, and we finally get to meet at least one of the reader's parents. i believe this is what the kids call 'conflict' in a narrative. Also the reader's parents now officially have names; Pearl & Andreas. Also nana's name is Bijou. let me know what you guys think ! <3

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Every time Oliver closes his eyes, one of about seventeen million different, lewd images pops into his head of either you or Felix. It seems his mind literally will not allow him to think of anything else, which is fine when he's alone in his room - your room, your bed - but less than ideal when he's sitting across from the two of you over breakfast. Nothing about the way either of you interacted with him was at all different from any other morning. Part of him feels like he's going crazy when you give him a sleepy smile and drop a kiss onto the top of his head in passing on the way to get yourself breakfast.

"Morning Ollie," mumbled affectionately, like it always was from you.

Though it should be noted that Oliver isn't often at breakfast before you and Felix. Both of you are reasonably punctual, and usually seem far less tired than you both seemed to be, so that at least pointed to what happened last night not being a dream. That, and Felix grinning at him as he sat down, placing a mug in front of your setting at the table, and held his own.

"How'd you sleep, mate?" With mirth shining in his eyes; he knows. What he knows and how much, Oliver isn't sure, but there's no way he'd be smiling like that otherwise. What does it mean for him if Felix knows? Where do they go from here?

"Bit restless," Oliver hears himself saying, and trains his eyes on his breakfast, feeling the heat creeping up his cheeks already. Felix makes an apology that sounds completely insincere, and punctuates it with a loud yawn, stretch, and groan. Eyes drawn to Felix, the response almost Pavlovian, and most certainly desperate, all Oliver sees is the pleased little smile Felix wears, still watching him. In the next moment it's gone, turned on you as you place a plate of food in front of him and then at your own place, settling down beside him, as you always do.

The talk over breakfast seems to be the same as it ever was. Plans for the day, with you sighing and declaring that after spend the day before in the garden, you'd be doing quite the opposite, and leisuring in the library, watching something yet to be decided if anyone wanted to join you. He could have sworn there was something pointed in your eyes as your gaze swept over the whole table, landing on his briefly. But then the conversation was moving on, and Oliver had to act like he had any room for decent thoughts in his head at that moment.

Breakfast has become unappealing. He already misses the taste of your blood.

He has to excuse himself, despite having barely eaten half of what he'd served himself. Everyone else enquires after him, asking if he's okay, and he hopes the smile he wears is good enough to stave off further questions.

"Just not hungry this morning is all."

He wishes he'd been as lucky as you, wishes you'd drawn blood; a scab he'd pick forever, a reminder of how thoroughly you'd gotten under his skin. Something in him burns to be scarred by you, marked by you both, a want so violent that you're reduced only to instincts. Bite and touch can be one in the same.

Oliver wasn't stupid. He knew what had been happening. It had been hard enough before last night with this game you'd been playing, the show you'd been putting on. A thrilling chase, tension stretched thin, waiting for Felix to finally make a move to prove that he wasn't just stringing Oliver along. The things he's seen you and Felix doing, the noises he'd been hearing -

Back in his room, he doesn't even realise how hard he's breathing until he slams his door shut, slumping against it, his heart racing.

He never thought it would have been you who broke the rules of this game you've been playing. But now Oliver's left picking up the pieces of his understanding, trying to figure out what the fuck it all meant. He locks his door frantically as he recalls something Venetia had once said to him on one of the few nights he's joined her for a cigarette outside before he would head up to the study -

"Felix hasn't needed since he was ten years old," Venetia's eyes flash with something more than amusement in the moonlight, "he was a desperately needy little brother growing up, clinging to me if mother wasn't clinging to him." The two fingers not holding her cigarette curl into a half fist. With a sly smile, she cocks her hip and leans against Oliver, "he wants, though."

A strange spark of desire arks through Oliver at her words, her knowing, teasing tone, like the flare of a starting gun, a confirmation of what he knew he'd already been working towards. It was nice to hear nonetheless. He tries to act like it doesn't effect him.

"Don't you all?" He glances at Venetia out of the corner of his eyes, tone smooth and unwavering, "you Cattons are the kind of creatures who all seem to want." Then, wetting his lips, "that's what that butler is for after all, and Y/N?" Venetia smiles broader, faint laughter escaping between her teeth.

"Oh, we all want, Ollie," with unrestrained condescension, "but so does most everyone; I know you want, I've seen your eyes. But we Cattons always get what we want, that's the difference you can sense."

"I get what I want, Venetia, I just have to work for it," he says eyes flashing as he looks at her through his lashes. Charming Felix's sister was more habit than actual desire, but he wasn't above using underhanded tactics to win over the Cattons as a whole. Even in the moonlight, he catches sight of Venetia's faint blush. Again she laughs, but her gaze drifts over the grounds.

"Then my brother's mutt must not like you that well," she mused, and takes another drag from her cigarette, "if you still have to work for what you want." The remark catches Oliver off guard for several reasons. After a moment he has to confirm that it's you that she's talking about; Venetia's look says obviously, "haven't you noticed that they can't want for themselves?"

Curled up on his your bed, hand wrapped around his own cock in what's become something of a ritual since he'd arrived and you'd begun playing this game with him, he wonders, not for the first time, if Venetia was right. It seemed as though you'd confirmed as much the other night, that you simply loved him, perhaps even wanted him, because Felix was so fond of him. Even when you'd first slept together you'd danced around the idea of what you'd really wanted, even as he pressed, insisted.

He picked up early on - and told you as much - that you want to be wanted, but Venetia's words had shaken even that belief, or at least, it's origins. At times it seemed like Felix was the kind of creature who fed on the adoration of others, who's to say that you simply wanted to draw people into his orbit, to feed his ego, rather than for your own satisfaction. After all, Oliver couldn't imagine you without Felix, anyone who was drawn into your warmth would find themselves eventually in Felix's light.

And Felix was impossible not to love.

Did that explain last night? Were you afraid you were losing Oliver? Was it simply to keep that spark of desire in his chest burning bright? Except if you knew why he'd been in that bathroom in the first place, surely you could have intuited that his desperation for Felix hadn't waned.

His free hand goes to his own throat, fingers catching in the metal chain that rest there, tangling up the same way yours had last night. Cold, sharp pressure against his throat, he squeezes his eyes closed and sees Felix's head tipped back, steam curling, sweat and water clinging to his gorgeous skin as he gasps and moans and -

"Good boy," the memory of your voice in his ear. A mess of memories from the night before, of the lewd sloshing of Felix's bathwater caught up in the eroticism of the moment, leaving Oliver's imagination to run wild. The memory of how your breathing became stuttered, the way you'd shuddered, getting off to Oliver whimpering your best friend's name in your ear as he came. Were you too thinking of Felix, or getting off believing that Oliver was?

Can't want for themselves.

Except there had been a look in your eyes, in your smile, that dangerous, thrilling thing that lit you up as you licked his spend from your fingers like you were relishing the taste of him. Self satisfaction, a kind he'd never seen on you before.

Perhaps Venetia was wrong. Perhaps he could make you want him for your own sake. Perhaps you had already started.

The fantasy warps again, this time to something entirely new, flickering back and forth between debauched depictions of you and Felix, both coveting him for your own.

"My Ollie," possessive echoes of what he hopes to one day hear, until he's conjured an image of you both, lavishing him with affection without sparing each other a second glance. Wanted by both in your own right, "our Ollie," but still wanted as a collective. Loved by your shared love, not just by extension.

Then the fantasy returns to just last night. The fantasy returns to watching Felix and desperately hoping the man was thinking about him while making those noises. The fantasy returns to you, pressed against him, hand slick with Felix's bath water and both getting off to the idea of him. The fantasy returns to the taste of your blood on his tongue knowing his cum was on yours.

The fantasy returns to you both getting off to him.

Oliver finishes embarrassingly quickly. Again. As he does most days here; there's no shortage of memories to pull from, you and Felix have made sure of that. It's also why he finds very little shame in the act anymore; surely you both know that his mind wanders to you like this, why else would you continue to put on such a show when he still hasn't made a move. After cleaning himself up, and still not quite sure what to make of your intentions last night, he decides to put that from his mind for the time being, and enjoy the day he has with you at least.

In the library, it's you, and Felix, and a box set of Classic Doctor Who; the fourth one, Oliver's pretty sure, judging by the scarf. The smile you both give him is nothing but warm and completely innocent. Oliver grins back easily, and takes a seat. It feels the same as it always has. Like nothing has changed.

But Oliver learns quickly that they have.

That night, he finds you in the lilac study in only your underwear. Underwear too nice to be worn by pure chance. Feigning innocence you tell him you can change if you're making him uncomfortable, but that it's a warm night. It's no warmer than any other night has been thus far.

"Does Felix know you're in here with me, dressed like this?" Oliver leans in the doorframe, arms crossed, unashamedly gazing over your body. Instead of a real answer, all you do is grin, raising your eyebrows at him, as if in challenge. So this is for Felix's benefit too, Oliver thinks, perhaps showing off his willingness to share you, trying to coax Oliver into making the first move on the man as a way to continue using his most beloved toy? Wanting you, and by extension, wanting Felix.

For a moment, Oliver marvels about how easily you're able to catch and manipulate his focus according to your every whim, it seems. Who are you outside of the showmanship? Is there a real person under there? Maybe he should walk away, ponder this on his own or ask you in the light of day when you still at least pretend around the others and each other.

"I thought they were cute," is what you finally say, sitting forward, "I'm quite fond of blue," you add, snapping the waistband of your underwear against your hip. Blue like Oliver's always wearing, blue like his damn eyes, blue like he once told Felix was his favourite colour. Fuck. Fine, he's just a man after all, and a lesser man probably couldn't even hold out as long as he has against you and your gorgeous fucking body in the lamplight, and that look in your eyes.

It's not as intense as it was the night before, but he still gets you off through your underwear, and at his foolish encouragement, you leave a bruising hickey on his neck. Before you part ways for the night, you walk with him to his door, which rather unnecessary, just to let him know there's concealer in his shade in the top drawer on his side of the bathroom.

"You planned this all then?" He smirks at your nerve to be so casual about this all, pressing you against his door.

"You give me too much credit," you teased, gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips, "call it wishful thinking on my part," and you both know he doesn't believe you, but he still kisses you, grinning.

He tries to use this shift in the dynamic to find out more. Perhaps the physical intimacy meant you would be more open to emotional intimacy, even even he hears Felix in the back of his mind.

The day after he'd enquired about your father's work, the day after he'd pressed his ear to Felix's door from the bathroom and heard you sobbing about your parents, Felix himself had pulled Oliver aside with a tight smile shortly after breakfast.

"Ollie, I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier mate, but about yesterday; we try not to bring up Y/N's mum and dad much around here."

"I'm sorry, I didn't -" Oliver tried, but Felix waved him off easily.

"No, I know you didn't know, you didn't mean anything by it," he assured warmly, but as he went to leave, Oliver couldn't help himself.

"Why?"

Felix stops. For a very long moment there is absolute silence. Stillness. Felix's smile doesn't reach his eyes when he turns back. There's a practiced easiness to him, something about it rehearsed and unfamiliar compared to the levity with which he usually carried himself.

"Because they don't have a kid."

And Oliver has no idea what to say to that, what he could possibly mean by that, so he lets Felix leave.

So when he starts to ask more questions, he careful about them. But he can't seem to catch a break. He gets confirmation that you and Felix have known each other since you were ten, and you're more than forthcoming about your life since then, but for all intents and purposes, you didn't seem to exist before then.

Tensions are running high the day before the first event, for you especially it seemed, even though you'd made it clear you wouldn't be in attendance. When he overhears you speaking with Elspeth, he hears something in your voice he'd never thought possible; despair.

"Do you have to host them in my garden, Elspeth?" You sounded like you were on the verge of tears. The matron of the house's voice is soothing as she reminds you that it's one of the most beautiful spots in the Estate. Your garden? "But every time she's in there she breaks my statue -"

"No she doesn't," Elspeth tries to dismiss, but you huff a surprisingly petulant whine.

"She does! Twice now! The seeds, there should be six, and I know it's her, Farleigh told me -"

"I won't let it happen again, pet, I promise."

"She knows it's mine, I know it, she's doing it on purpose -"

"It won't happen again."

Oliver doesn't know enough about your issue with the Arts Collective that is coming over, or whoever this specific member is that has you so upset, so he has to bide his time to get the answers he wants.

And he's not getting them from you. Clearly.

You're withdrawn during dinner. No-one else comments on it; it's like they all understand whatever it is you're going through, and only Oliver's left out of the loop. Not even Felix seems particularly worried, and that's the bit that surprised Oliver.

In the lilac study, much later, Oliver finds you in your pyjamas, sitting on the windowsill. When he asks if you're okay, you bark a humourless laugh.

"By all accounts," you give a thin-lipped smile, fidgeting with the unlit cigarette between your fingers, "I should be completely fine." It's not even close to being believable. When he sits, chin gently coming to rest on your knee as it hung down the back of the sofa, you sighed, dropping the act and lighting your cigarette. 'It's nothing," you mumbled after a moment, dropping his gaze and taking a draft of your cigarette.

"It's not nothing," Oliver assured softly. Looking up at him, the barest frown creased your brow.

"I never went through the kinds of things you had to," you admit softly, unaware of the cogs suddenly turning in Oliver's mind, "my life is," you laughed without even a hint of humour, "blessed," but the word comes out bitterly. With your free hand, you reach out to run your hand through Oliver's hair, pushing it back off of his forehead, "you don't need to worry about me, Ollie." Shame pulses through Oliver all at once, his lie weighing heavily on his consciousness. He leans into your touch, lets his eyes closed, terrified you'll see the guilt there.

"I do worry 'bout you," he pushes, voice faint and demure, his eyes still closed. He lets the words hang in the air, lets you turn them over in your mind, won't overplay his hand. There's the sound of the cigarette sizzling, then a long, deep sigh from you.

"You don't know me, Ollie."

It's strange to hear you say it, hear you finally admit it. Oliver hasn't been imagining things, you've managed to evade his attempts to genuinely get close to you. Part of him wants to scream, wants to shout well whose fucking fault is that, wants to holler with some kind of vindication. Instead, he kisses your knee, and whispers that he'd like to.

"You'll get there, I'm sure," you tell him with what he's sure is an attempt at warmth, once more carding your fingers through his hair, "spend enough time with Fi and you won't have a choice." It comes as a surprise to hear the forlorn notes in your voice. But then, as quickly as they were there, they'd disappeared, and you start telling him about the guests that would be in attendance at the dinner the following night.

"Why do you know all this if you aren't going?" He's struggling to retain any of the information you've dumped on him - whose married to who, who are the artists and who are the appreciators, the scandals each have been attached to - but it seems to come so easily to you. You're on your third cigarette when there finally comes a lull in the conversation.

"So I can tell you?" You gave him a confused little smile, but he still doesn't understand.

"But what if I wasn't going?"

"But you are," you frowned a little, confused smile becoming more forced, as if his lack of comprehension almost pains you, "why wouldn't you be?" Oliver blinks, "I always knew I wasn't going, but I always knew you would, and I -" you shrugged a little helplessly, "I know things. Now you know things." This time your grin is genuine, as if pleased to be able to help him in your own way.

"Does any of this really matter?" He doesn't mean for it to sound as blunt as it comes across, but thankfully you don't seem offended. Instead you bark a laugh, leaning back against the windowsill and casting your gaze to the navy sky outside.

"They seem to think so," you groaned, as if you'd been subjected to these people and their egos one too many times, "and they love to feel like they matter. Taking the time to know people makes them feel like they matter, at least that's how I was raised." It's a crack, the barest hint to your past that Oliver will ruminate on for days to come. He remembers very sharply how you'd blurted out that you weren't meant to matter. Slowly but surely he's piecing together a picture of your past. So far, he's not liking the image it's coming to form.

So he steers from dangerous conversational territories.

"'s that why you let Venetia talk to you the way she does?" It's not hostile or judgemental, he makes himself sound as genuine as he's able. A thoughtful hum escapes you while you keep looking out across the Estate's gardens, "like you don't mind if she's mean because you know that at least she feels good about herself around you?"

"I adore Venetia despite her sharp edges," you say softly, "and she and I both know this, but she's..." looking back to Oliver, your smile is sad as your mind drifts to Felix's sister, "insecure," voice low, you give a tired shake of your head, "if I knew how to draw lines in the sand, I'm sure she would have crossed it long before now."

"All these Cattons need to be wanted, don't they?" Oliver grins widely, leaning back and reclining on the sofa, watching you crack a genuine smile.

"Why do you think they keep me around?" You joke, but Oliver takes this moment and locks it away in his mind for further pondering, along with all the other revelations you'd afforded him. At least you look brighter when you leave then when he'd walked in. The last thing you tell him is to be punctual to the garden the following night; Elspeth thinks highly of punctuality.

"Am I not going to see you before dinner tomorrow?" Oliver frowns, also standing.

"Oh," you stall by the door, something awkward in your tone, "I'll be around at breakfast, and maybe lunch, but I'm probably not going to be much company or conversation."

The next morning, Oliver finds your words to be true. At breakfast, your gaze is glassy, your movements robotic. Pamela appears to have overslept, but Oliver seems to be the only one who even notices. There's a strange air in the house. Farleigh's more terse than usual, while Felix and Venetia seem to have glued themselves to your sides, the two of them chattering quietly between each other despite how you don't even appear to be aware of their presence.

Over lunch, you too are missing from attendance, as is Pamela once more. Elspeth spends a good portion of the meal trying to encourage her children to adopt a lighter mood. Neither cooperate with her request.

"This might be the best you get from them," Farleigh glanced at Felix and Venetia wearing near identical pouts, both focusing entirely on their lunch, "unless you're planning to surprise us all with dropping a house on the wicked bitch of the -"

"Farleigh, please," Elspeth cut him off sharply, "don't call her that." Farleigh's sharp gaze flicks to his aunt, but his mouth stays shut, "it's one night, can you please just be civil?"

"One night for her," Felix says pointedly under his breath.

Oliver is at a complete loss. Trying to think back on all the guests you'd told him about, he can't for the life of him recall which they might all be referring to. It bothers him enough that once lunch is finished, he looks for you; he'd like a little more warning if he really was to be walking into some kind of lion's den that evening. When he asks Felix, all he gets is a sighed 'study' and little else.

The study door is locked, so he knocks. On the other side, he hears a sigh.

"Go away, Ollie."

How had you known it was him? But that was a question for another time.

"I have a question about tonight -"

"I don't want to think about tonight, just go away, enjoy yourself -"

"I need to know more about the guest list; there's someone who seems to really bother Felix, Venetia, and Farleigh, but I can't remember who it could be that you told me about." He lets himself sound desperate, sound a little helpless and lost; you'd gone so far out of your way to make him feel at home here, he knew you'd -

"Um," after a moment, the door creaks open. Barely. Peering out, you don't look quite right, "it's- um, I think -"

"'re you alright?" Genuine concern wells up in him, but you pull back when he reaches out for you.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine, I'm just- fuck, Ollie, I'm high; what are you, my -" but you cut yourself off with a soft, angry swear, as if mad at yourself for reasons well beyond Oliver's understanding. Gaze unfocused, you frown deeply as you lean heavily against the doorframe. Oliver bit back further concern, taken aback by your relative hostility, "there's this curator that really gets under their skin," you recall after a moment, unable to meet his gaze, "last I checked she was about Elspeth's age; Pearl L/N."

Oliver doesn't remember you even mentioning a Pearl last night amongst all the rest of the guests.

"What's she done that's so bad?" But his words curiously cause your expression to scrunch, "do you not like her either?" You shook your head so hard you almost lost your balance; this time you don't shy away from Oliver when he holds your shoulder steady, "what'd she do?"

"She's just vapid," your voice is so small; there's so much you're not telling him in this moment, Oliver can tell, "you don't need to make her feel like she matters, she knows she does," you swallow thickly, looking at the doorframe, "but if you compliment the work of Bijou L/N in her general area I'm sure she'll jump at the chance to tell you how she sold her Aurora triptych for the same amount that her mother's first house cost." You advised bitterly, lip curling, "she loves hearing herself speak," you spat as an afterthought, immediately trying to slam the door as if you'd forgotten Oliver was even there.

Catching the door, he asks once more if you're okay, and you finally look at him, pain in your eyes like he's never seen before, tears, unspilled, turning your gaze glassy.

"I do hope you have a good night," despite the sadness in your voice, you sound sincere, and Oliver lets you close the door once more.

As he's getting himself ready for the event, Oliver finds himself musing over the information he'd gotten from you. It's no surprise the Catton siblings aren't a fan of this woman; he can't imagine they enjoy being in the presence of someone who craves the spotlight even more than either of them do.

Your advice about an early arrival paid off at least, as Oliver finds himself in the fairy garden with Elspeth in her lavender gown, as always being an incorrigible gossip. With very little genuine care for her own daughter, Elspeth's gossip finds a home amid disparaging remarks. If he carefully files Venetia's insecurities and less noticeable flaws away in the back of his mind, he does so only in case of emergency. Despite their disagreements, Felix clearly loved his sister too; how Oliver would use the information Elspeth gives him to his advantage would remain to be seen, but he reasoned it was good to have.

When finally he's given the chance to comment on Pamela - indirectly, every possibly sharp remark was wrapped in layers of silk at Saltburn - Elspeth's guilt is unmistakable. So Oliver does what he does best; he tells Elspeth exactly what she needed to hear. He drives a wedge in her memories of the woman she'd kicked out, shut the door on the guilt and the thought of return, soothing the Catton matriarch in the process. Sometimes it really was shockingly easy to make the Catton Family Players dance.

"You know it's very good of you taking Y/N the way you did," Oliver adds for good measure, "eleven years I think they said?"

"Oh," Elspeth's brow creases for just a moment as she thinks back, "I suppose it has been that long, hasn't it?" There's a faraway look in her eyes, but Oliver sees an opportunity for information you and Felix were always rather evasive about.

"I would have thought it would be strange," Oliver offers, his tone carefully neutral, but of course light, "having so many people here all the time; Y/N, Farleigh, Pamela, me. You're very generous, very kind." Elspeth gives a gracious smile at the compliment, eyes shining in the twilight. The same grace with which Felix accepts Oliver's soft spoken compliments when it's just the two of them.

"Saltburn was built for company, Oliver dear, nothing strange at all," she tells him in earnest, "James and I have always welcomed our loved ones with open arms, and I am proud to have passed that sentiment on to my darling children."

"Venetia certainly seems fond of Y/N."

Something about Elspeth's expression tightens for the barest moment, and she takes a sip of her wine with a hum that almost sounds like an agreement.

"Y/N seems to believe as much," she says with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, "and I suppose she hasn't run them off yet, though I suspect their loyalty to Felix has far more to do with that than whatever apparent kindness my daughter has afforded them."

"I'm sorry...?" Oliver tips his head to the side, confusion masking his intrigue.

"Lord knows I try not to judge my darling children and their friends, so I of course would turn a blind eye to their youthful trysts and experimentation, but really Venetia's been using the poor pet in bad taste for years now, treating them like a dog; you've seen the way she antagonises them, I can't imagine what she's like behind closed doors, nor why Y/N puts up with it!"

"You haven't tried to stop it?"

"Felix has come to me about some of the things Venetia's apparently said, but he seemed more miffed than anything, said Y/N wasn't at all bothered," Elspeth sighed, shaking her head, "I think they pity her, honestly."

"Sounds like Felix and Y/N have pretty inseperable, and you obviously care about them a lot too."

"Felix has always been wonderful at making friends," Elspeth gives a sweet smile, casting her fond gaze at Oliver for a moment, "but Y/N was this tragic, little thing; the first time they met us their parents enquired about whether James and I would like to host them for the Summer, of course I wasn't even aware I was talking to their parents when the offer was made, but Felix had taken quite a shine to them so of course we were more than happy to agree. Then," she gives such a dainty shrug, expression fond and blithe, "they called again as schools were breaking for Christmas, something about how fond Y/N had grown of us all; after that they didn't even have to call."

"So they've been coming back here all this time?"

"Oh the children would often holiday elsewhere during the break, but Y/N was almost always with Felix, wherever he was," she smiled wide, mind alight with memories of your shared youth, "their parents have always afforded us a generous stipend for allowing them to remain with us and Felix so consistently through the years, so it was never any trouble or burden to take care of them."

A long pause follows, and Oliver lets himself mull over all he'd learned, fascinated by it all. But he keeps coming back to one thought;

"You didn't know you were talking to their parents?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You said back when you and Felix first met Y/N, you hadn't known you were talking to their parents?"

"Well, no," Elspeth says, and takes a moment to think carefully about the past, about her next words, "but we were at a business event, I suppose they wanted to remain somewhat professional." Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. There's something there, something more. Something about these memories has softened the matriarch, even more than discussing her own daughter.

"Well I know they love you," Oliver tells her, though he's only rarely heard you and Felix talking about the family, "and I know they're grateful to you, and your husband, and all you've done for them, the care you've shown." And there it is, that faraway softness, that hint of maternal love that almost looks foreign on her.

"We haven't done all that much," Elspeth admits gently, soft smile gracing her features, "just what anyone would do, I think."

"More than what their own parents did, it sounds like."

Elspeth's expression falls, her gaze dropping to her hands. She takes a long sip of her wine.

"They're lovely people, really, please don't take what I've said as any kind of inducement on them as people, I think you'd actually find them quite charming," she says, almost forcibly cheerful, "they're exuberant, fascinating people; they've been wonderful friends to myself and James for quite some time, long before we welcomed Y/N into our home, actually," she laughs a little, looking back up, apparently having shaken her just moments ago, "I will say it was quite the surprise to find out they had a child just the same age as Felix." It's an evasive answer, one Oliver doesn't want to let her get out of but doesn't quite know how to turn the conversation back. The silence is not uncomfortable, but Oliver is still grateful that it's Elspeth that breaks it once more.

"He's never been particularly fond of them," Elspeth somehow gives him an in without Oliver even needing to pry further. Her tone is dismissive, like her son's distaste is simply childish, "but Felix has always been loyal," she smiles warmly once more after shaking her head, "I really do think you'll like them; so much of Y/N comes from them."

"I'll like them?" Oliver frowned with confusion, to which Elspeth nodded, reiterating the sentiment, "you think I'll meet them?"

"Of course, darling, they're coming to dinner tonight," she shakes her head after a beat, seemingly correcting herself, "well, their darling mother. She was at Oxford with James, studying Art History, if I do recall -" but she's cut short as Duncan announces the arrival of the first guests, and Elspeth stands, smiles, slipping comfortably into the role of the perfect hostess.

Oliver feels like he almost understands. Like he's right on the edge of putting all the pieces together. There's too much new information, too many social rules he still doesn't know; part of your discomfort was almost definitely related to your mother being here, and that vapid curator Felix hated -

"You are going to need this," Farleigh presses a glass of champagne into Oliver's hands. He seems more irate than usual, but unusually, it doesn't seem to be directed at Oliver. As the guests begin to filter in, they stand side-by-side at the edge of the garden. Farleigh looks like he belongs there, long and elegant, hand in his pocket and his own champagne glass poised delicately in his grip as he glowered at the others.

"Not a fan of the Arts Collective either?" Oliver enquires, carefully taking a sip.

"Tell me that isn't Fredrika's boy!" Comes a call from across the garden, and Farleigh plasters on a smile as he nods and tips his glass to the gentleman who'd gleefully identified him. They both hear him exclaim to some others he was with, "look how tall he's gotten!" But thankfully the man makes no move towards them, choosing instead to blatantly discuss Farleigh, and-or his mother, with little regard for the man himself.

"They've always been kind to my mother," it's the most diplomatic and genuine Oliver's pretty sure Farleigh's ever been while speaking to him. Still, his discomfort does not seem to ease.

"So I suppose there's just a few bad apples then," Oliver muses, "Y/N warned me about Pearl." It takes several seconds of silence for Oliver to finally give Farleigh his full attention. There's a curious look in his eyes, one Oliver hadn't quite been expecting.

"Did they?" He says very carefully.

"The woman sounds like a pain," Oliver says easily, trying his best to ignore the sudden strange vibe that has picked up around them, "but I assumed all these rich folks have an ego on them, so she must be some kind of something since they barely mentioned their own mother and I know they're not fond of her either."

"You are an idiot," Farleigh looks like he can't even believe the words coming out of Oliver's mouth. There's that lost feeling again, like everyone knows some kind of secret that he's not allowed to, like they all want to keep dancing around the truth, afraid of giving him real answers. Farleigh shakes his head in disbelief, an unsettling, quiet anger in his eyes, "you are a fucking idiot -"

"Oh my god, wow!" Comes a bright voice from far closer than Oliver had been expecting, "I'm getting flashbacks, Elle, are you getting flashbacks? Doesn't he look just like Freddie making that face?" Farleigh, beside Oliver, freezes.

When Oliver turns, he sees Elspeth approaching him with a painfully familiar woman on her arm, saying that this is the one I was telling you about; Oliver -

Oliver recognises your mother by her smile. It lights up her whole face, so comforting, so warm and full of affection as her gaze lingers on him.

"Oh, Oliver, I'm sure you're darling, but I must say hello to Freddie's youngling," she enthuses with a laugh. Farleigh looks like his body is three seconds away from engaging in some kind of fight or flight response.

"I see you remember Farleigh, my nephew," Elspeth points out, and the woman wraps Farleigh up in a hug that he does not reciprocate.

"Of course," she gleefully identifies, and Farleigh makes an uncomfortable noise to the affirmative. When she lets him go, she doesn't do so entirely, holding him at arm's length for a moment as she looks him over, "you are such a marvel, darling, every time I see you!" Glancing over her shoulder at Elspeth, she wears a charmingly teasing smile, "never tell James that his sister got all the good genes," and Elspeth, despite the backhanded compliment, seems only endeared by this woman's antics. Finally she lets Farleigh go, stepping back and continuing to size him up, sparkle of mirth in her eyes, "how is your mother, darling?"

"Elsewhere," Farleigh answers shortly.

"Of course, is she still in New York?"

"For the time being," it seems to be enough for her for now, letting him go. Then, she turns her attention onto Oliver, letting Elspeth make the introduction.

"And this is Oliver, a dear friend of my Felix's who's staying with us for the Summer," Elspeth rests a warm hand on Oliver's shoulder, but the woman forgoes propriety to also hug Oliver tightly.

"Oh wonderful to meet you, Oliver - Ollie, can I call you Ollie? Do they call you Ollie?" She says as he awkwardly hugs her back, running on autopilot. Oliver makes some kind of noise, he's sure, but apparently your mother takes that as an affirmative. Pulling back, she smiles with such genuine warmth it's almost jarring to think about what he knows of her, "oh Ollie, so lovely to have you here, it's so good to see beautiful, bright, fresh faces as fans of the arts; you are a fan of the arts, I take it?"

"I suppose," he offers awkwardly, to which your mother gives a laugh. It doesn't sound like laughter should, there's something a little mean about it, something condescending.

"Darling boy you're with the Arts Collective, at Saltburn of all places; one would think to do their research before attending an event such as this -"

"Wine and cheese in the garden were we get high -?" Farleigh's snide aside that hopefully only Oliver hears as he mutters it under his breath is cut off by Oliver's quick apology.

"It's my first Summer here; I'm a fan of the arts but I thought it would be best to set expectations low considering the calibre of guest. I'm not much of an artist but that doesn't hinder my appreciation," he bullshits quickly, and your mother's eyes light up, taking the bait entirely.

"Nice save," Farleigh mutters under his breath while your mother all but swooned at Oliver's humility.

"Oh! Then I do apologise, dear, I'm glad to have you here, glad to see not all hope is lost for the youth," she shook her head with a fond exasperation, "your friend Felix has never taken much interest unfortunately," she chuckles, "one of his very few flaws, I'm afraid."

"I'm also friends with Y/N," Oliver adds quickly, and immediately feels Farleigh's hand on the small of his back, voice in his ear - don't.

"Sorry darling, I don't know who that is," your mother sounds completely and utterly sincere; nothing in her smile or her body language betrays it as a lie. Despite Farleigh's warning, Oliver pushes.

"Your kid, Y/N," he can feel Farleigh actually grabbing onto the hem of his jacket, voice a snarl now - stop.

"Ollie, dear, I don't have any children," she says with what appears to be complete earnestness. Oliver blinks quickly, stepping back, faintly apologising.

"Sorry, I must have gotten some wires crossed," he says weakly.

"Are you feeling alright?" She puts her hand to his forehead, sweet concern written all over her face. God, she looks so much like you, he really thought - "can we get darling Ollie some water?" She snaps her fingers at one of the servers insistently, rudely, directing Oliver to sit down. He did so, and Farleigh took a seat next to him, wrapping an arm around Oliver's shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," Oliver hears himself speak almost automatically, "I don't think I caught your name." Immediately the woman's expression morphs into a pantomime of apology, offering her hand.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so used to being known at these things - god, listen to me I must sound like I have such an ego, sorry, Ollie, darling," the woman's smile reeks of practiced perfection, "I'm Pearl L/N." Everything stops for a very long few moments as Oliver shakes her hand and processes this news. He blinks a few times, and Pearl laughs airily in the twilight, "oh, maybe he does know me; look," she tips her head to Elspeth, "the boy's starstruck." He's liking her less and less and the moments go on; he can see exactly what the others' problem is with her.

"Sorry, Pearl L/N?" Quickly retracting his hand, he tries to remember what you'd told him mere hours ago, "are you the same Pearl L/N who managed to sell Bijou L/N's Aurora's to..." he trails off, having no actual idea of where the paintings had gone, but banking on what you told him about Peal enjoying the sound of her own voice. As anticipated, she looks frankly delighted, throwing her head back as an uncannily familiar laugh echoes from her. In his peripheries, he sees the approving look Elspeth is giving him.

"My word, yes, they're still up at The Met," she tells him, "I suspect it will be a cold day in hell before they're taken down; they paid more than my mother paid for the house she painted them in."

"Your mother -?"

"I'll take care of him," Farleigh cuts him off with a cold smile to Pearl. It's enough to distract the woman, who coos fondly.

"Oh you really are Freddie's, she must be so proud of the man you are, Farleigh."

Farleigh gives a jerky nod, robotically thanking her for the compliment, and she swans away to greet some of the others who've just arrived.

"Sorry, I thought... she just reminded me so much of Y/N," Oliver mumbled. Farleigh extracts his arm from around Oliver's shoulders, something dangerous in his eyes as he watches the woman, now talking and laughing and socialising with such exuberance and ease.

"You are a fucking idiot," Farleigh bites out venomously, not even looking at Oliver. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest. They both watch for a moment as Pearl takes the arm of another guest, coaxing them and the group they're with to sit over on the picnic bench.

"Can you stop calling me that if you're not going to tell explain to me why?" Oliver finally snaps back, turning to level a glare at the tall gentleman beside him. Farleigh meets his unimpressed look with one of his own, gazing into his eyes as if his next words were of the utmost importance.

"Why exactly do you think that Y/N L/N has a problem with Pearl L/N?"

Oliver feels like a fucking idiot. All the pieces are finally in place, and the picture, Oliver realises, is much bleaker than he'd realised.

Farleigh looks back at the picnic table. The general chatter has died down now, and it seemed that catching up between members of the collective was in order. But his focus was captivated by the woman with your smile. Your mother. Everything familiar about her started to make his skin itch. Everything about you started to make a lot more sense.

There was an effortlessness to how she dazzled the collective, pouring affectionate praise onto the artists as they shared their creativity and triumph, offering support and suggestion to other curators and appreciators like herself who found themselves looking for advice.

Charming, exuberant, fascinating, just as Elspeth had told him she's be. Oliver just remembers hearing you weep about how, in the eleven years since you'd been welcomed into Saltburn, she'd never once asked about you.

"I'm in talks with the Vatican about doing a documentary on the Sistine Chapel," Pearl tell the collective airily when it's finally her turn to share. Chin in one hand, the other picking at the statue at the back of the table that's just behind her, Oliver remembers the argument you'd had with Elspeth just yesterday, "but it's been such a runaround," she groaned, reaching up for one of the stone seeds the sculpture was trying to eat, "so many legal meetings and all this red tape; I've got a meeting with the pope and several high ranking members of the clergy to see if I can get their blessing and bypass all this nonsense. I swear Michaelangelo would be rolling in his grave if he knew the effort one must put in nowadays to appreciate his work." A meeting with the fucking pope?

"Pope Benedict the Sixteenth?" Elspeth says with disbelief, the gaggle of women scattered around the garden echoing the sentiment.

"Has there been another one instated while I wasn't looking?" Pearl smiles, teasing edge to her tone that's uncomfortably familiar, but then there's a faint crack, and she looks up guiltily. Or at least, she looks exactly the way a guilty person should look.

"Darling, you do that every time," Elspeth laughs lightly, while the woman puts the stone seed down on the table before her.

"Surely it hasn't been that many times," she responded, though Farleigh's voice is in Oliver's ear.

"That's the third."

"Fine, let me get you another one," the woman offers, "a proper nymph for this darling little fairy garden, something pretty and fitting, not this..." She looks up at the statue, at the myth of Persephone gleefully eating what seeds are left, at the figure with your unmistakable likeness, "strange, sad little thing," she laughs, before adding that the garden itself was beautiful, and that Elspeth had to get her in contact with the landscape artist. Elspeth, surprisingly, suggests that they should head inside since it was swiftly approaching dinner.

Felix and Venetia are already sitting at the table, a mostly empty bottle of wine on the table between them, both cups far less than full. Farleigh takes the seat opposite Felix, and pulls Oliver down to sit across from Venetia. Neither of the siblings speak, but both are looking at Farleigh as if they can divine some secret message from his wordless expression alone.

"No, I take it back," Pearl's voice fills the dining room, drawing all attention as the others filled in around her. The way she's looking at Felix and Venetia is so painfully endeared; if Oliver didn't know any better, he'd say their glares in her direction were cruel, "Elle, I think Cattons are just cursed to have beautiful children," sighing with a teasing, faux disappointment to Elspeth as she passes behind the siblings to take her seat, she greets them both warmly.

"Children," Elspeth prompts, sharp look in her eyes like she's embarrassed by their lack of grace, both Venetia and Felix nod in greeting, her name coming out as a robotic mumble.

"How lovely are they," Pearl sits, fawning over the Catton siblings to the other guests, who all chatter in faint agreement. As expected, however, Oliver finds he can hear Pearl's voice over all the others, even though she sat herself across from Elspeth, at the other end of the table, "Elle, really I'm in endless awe of you and James, Saltburn has never looked so spectacular as it does under your care, I'm sure my home would go to ruin if Andreas and I ever attempted having a child, let alone raising one half as lovely as you've managed; twice!"

"Pearl," Elspeth told her, voice loud enough that it too carried, "I'm sure that if you had a child, they would be -"

"Oh you're just being kind, Elle, don't waste your breath on hypotheticals."

Across the table, Felix looks like he's about to cry.

Oliver feels... unexpectedly hollow. Every word Pearl speaks reminds him of the state he'd seen you in that afternoon.

"I hate her," Venetia snarls, loud enough for only the four at the end to have heard. There's something about this moment, looking at the siblings and their cousin so completely united against this common enemy, that finally makes Oliver realise and believe just how deeply they all cared for you. Even Farleigh was regarding him in solidarity.

Somehow Pearl still hadn't noticed the black cloud that hung over the other end of the table, or perhaps after eleven years she was used to ignoring it. At least the rest of the collective didn't seem too bothered by it, making bright conversation amongst themselves and leaving the furious youth to stew in their collective anger.

"Why didn't you tell me Pearl was your mum?" Oliver heads immediately to the lilac study. The door opens right as he's about to knock, like you'd heard him coming; you look better than you had that afternoon, but his words have your expression falling.

"I'm sure she didn't see it necessary to tell you I'm her child either," you snapped back, hostile. Oliver goes quiet. You crossed your arms, gaze dropping to the ground, "exactly."

"I don't know you," voice faint, Oliver steps back. Finally it starts to hit him, everything that's happened, everything he'd learned and witnessed and heard. The ache begins in his chest and blooms as he looks at you and tries to reconcile all he now knows. How had he not realised that in all the time you'd spent together, you'd never even given him your last fucking name? "I don't know who you are."

"I don't owe anyone anything -"

"Especially not yourself, right?" Oliver cuts you off, at war with himself when he sees the hurt in your eyes. Still, he can't stand by and let you talk like this, let you become a secondary character in your own damn life, "don't owe yourself the chance to believe that someone cares about you, wants to know you, to make you feel like you matter? I want to know you, I want to I love you," the words sound so raw, and he aches, shudders with each deep breath in, "but there is something wrong with you."

There was no anger in your eyes when you'd closed the door, nor any kind of betrayal. Oliver wonders if that would have been easier to stomach than the guilt, the look of apology. You agreed; you believed he was right. Regret begins to claw at his gut the moment he stumbles back, towards his room; he should have waited, given himself time to think, to process before going to you. Fuck, he really shouldn't have gone to you knowing the state you were in.

Oliver is hollow with want, despite his outburst, desperate to be close to you. But there's no way he can come back from this tonight. All he has is the people who care about you. If Oliver had learned one thing tonight, it was the Catton children and their cousin all did love you, each in their own way.

And Venetia Catton was smoking outside his window in a see-through nightgown.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick smut #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

[kritzel]

Adams Past Thoughts

(English isn't my first language so sorry if I make mistakes)

After finishing HH I got to thinking, was Adam always the way that we see him in the show.

Because he, Lilith and Eve were created without original sin. So it wouldn't make sense for him to be a complete idiot from the beginning.

Here's what I think could be a possibility on what happened (after all we don't know how biased Lilith's book is):

First he and Lilith are created

Maybe he didn't really boss her around and it was more like a situation of a sibling telling the other sibling what to do (I know they where married but it's the only example I could think of)

"Just because you're older doesn't mean you can tell me what to do" kinda way (since Adam probably was made first)

But it was not supposed to be an order from Adam more like a suggestion

So Lilith walks of and meets Lucifer

Heaven realises Lilith won't work as a wife and they create Eve from Adam

Eve is a lot more naive than Lilith

Adam is explicitly told to look after her and make sure she is alright

He does just that and they both are happy together

Lucifer and Lilith create the fruit

And in a rare moment where Eve isn't with Adam she finds the tree

Eve eats the fruit

She gives it to Adam

He eats it too because he loves Eve and doesn't want her to endure the punishment alone

Everything goes downhill from here

I believe they were not really capable of feeling negative emotions before they ate the fruit

Eve being the first to eat it develops a lot of doubts towards Adam

Why wasn't he looking after me? That's what he was supposed to do now we are stuck in a world filled with danger and death

Adam ,who before the fruit didn't care about Lilith leaving him, was now starting to yearn for the woman he never had. She was supposed to be his and now she is with the most hated being of all creation.

They never really expressed the thoughts they had after eating the fruit with eachother

Resentment started building up without them really noticing

They still held love for eachother and tried to survive in a world full of danger

It went alright in the beginning

They had two kids

Everything seemed to look up

But of course Cane kills Abel

And that was the last nail in the coffin

Adam and Eve could not cope with the loss of both their sons (let's pretend Seth never becomes a person in this story)

They still tried to stay together

But the resentment grows bigger

Love turns into hate and a lot of hurtful things are said between them

They separate and go there different ways

And lets pretend Eve really did have something with Lucifer

As soon as Adam hears about that his hate for Lucifer and Eve just grows bigger

What is wrong with these women? What is it about this Lucifer?

He develops a lot of doubts about himself in his living life. Which causes him to develop the fear of being left by anyone who he lets into his life.

After he died he hears all about how great he is being the first man and all

And over the years he starts believing that he can do no wrong and it was only his wife's and Lucifers fault that everything went to shit

And even though deep down he wants a meaningful relationship he opted to just go for hook ups in fear of losing someone again

And after a few thousand years those things develop into the kind of person we see in the show

But this is just one possibility

I hope it is understandable what I'm trying to convey

Please share your thoughts with me.

What do you think happened all these years ago?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel eve #hazbin hotel theory #adam and eve #adam x reader

[neverchecking]

NSFW Alphabet- Fierce Deity Edition

And the winner of the poll (Which isn't technically over) is, in a surprising turn of events, Fierce! Sage had the lead for a while and then it was Legend, and then the man himself pulled ahead!

I was watching it the whole time while writing this like "you better not change."

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's the silent broody type, but every touch of his is startlingly soft. But he's pretty good at aftercare, all things considered! He's probably the type to have a set routine that he goes through each and every time. A wipe down and then a bath and then probably letting you lay on his chest while he towel dries you off <33

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On his partner? Everything. He can't chose. That would be sacrilegious. He loves every part of you. Every bump, scar, insecurity is what makes you, you. And he'll be damned before he doesn't worship every inch of your entire being.

On him? (I'll have everyone know I almost put hands here. AGAIN.) Probably his back or chest. Now, I know that sounds weird, but it's the first place your hands mark in glorious streaks of white when he's buried deep within you. It's one of the only places he can wear the marks you have graced him with so proudly. It's where you sign your name and place your claim on his heart, soul and entire being.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Man cums a lot. Be forewarned. It's thick and it's creamy and there's always a lot. Another Link with those heavy breeder balls, you know? Ones just begging to be drained into your pretty little hole. Which is exactly where he does it. Every single time. Anywhere else is a waste.

And he refuses to be wasteful.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is always secretly terrified that he could somehow in someway hurt you. So when you take control and ride him, bouncing up and down, over and over and over again, he just feels himself fall deeper into devotion for you. Because you aren't afraid. He's slaughtered thousands. And yet, you cradle him like he is a saint. This is only proven when your above him, using him like a toy and trusting that he won't do anything to take back control.

Because he won't.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Fierce was never one for sex. I'm gonna go right off the bat with that. In fact, you're probably his first. That being said, if he lets you sleep with him, he's probably finding ways to spend the rest of his immortal years with you. You aren't leaving him. He won't let you. He's only willing to learn your body. What makes you tick. Not anyone else. He has no care for anyone else.

And he's a fast learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary all the way. He'll do others, but I can't see him really enjoying them. With Missionary he gets to watch your facial features and the way you heave breath after heavy breath, watching as he disappears into your greedy little hole over and over again.

So yeah, he loves missionary. Even if a breeding press also has it's place in his chest cavity (bc I'm not sure if he has a heart hfof)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

You're kidding, right?

This man has no sense of humor. Period. Maybe he'll give you a small twitch of his lips, but other than that, he's the same stoic faced, bare boned man he portrays. So if he doesn't laugh during the times he's clothed, there's like negative chances of him doing it when he's naked.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I like to think every part of him is strictly uniform. Every part. His pubic hair is nicely groomed and trimmed and still the same stark white as the hair on his head.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I could go either way with this. On one hand, he probably doesn't know a whole lot about Romance. Just devotion. And his devotion is so whole and honest in a way I don't think I could truly describe. Everything he does is for you. Your attention. Your approval. Your everything.

On another hand, if his lover wishes for romance, he shall do all the research necessary to ensure he is properly versed in every courting method there is. Anything his darling wants. Their wish is his command.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Never. Not once. He has zero interest in touching himself. None at all. As far as he's concerned, his dick is yours and yours alone. He merely carries it around. He has no right to touch whats yours.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

HUGE CORRUPTION KINK.

There I said it. He's so into taking this pristine art of the Golden three and just absolutely ruining it. Making your eyes red and puffy with tears as you cry out for him, bruising the delicate flesh on your hips with a grip tight enough to keep you in place, claiming you in every way you claim him as the biggest fuck you to the goddesses who blessed you

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere private. He has absolutely no interest in sharing the view of you. That is his and his alone. He believes that sex is such an intimate thing, it's his holy time.

And he doesn't share

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything. Anything with you. You could breath in his direction and he's hard and ready to go. If you give him the opportunity, he'll worship you all day every day. Just give him the word.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any form of physical harm. He refuses to do that. Absolutely refuses. His hands are stained with thousands of years of blood and he refuses to let yours be there as well.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving all the way. That is his purest form of devotion and that's his sacred time. He could spend hours down there if you'd let him. So please let him. Plus, he's a god at oral. He's so focused on you and your reactions, you have no complaints regarding his head game.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Anything his lover wants. If they want slow and sensual, he'll do it. Fast and rough? He's pinning them down. Long, hard drags? Done. Shallow thrusts that have you crying out? Anything you wish.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hates them. Hates them hates them hates them. SO MUCH. He refuses to rush his prayers to you. REFUSES. It's frankly insulting to insinuate he would ever do such a thing. He is taking his time in taking you apart and not speeding up even for the end of the world.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Nope. No risks. Anything risking his time with you is a big no-no. That's his special time. His moment of prayer and devotion and it is not to be interrupted.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

All day and all night. The only thing stopping him is his partner pressing the red light. He can go forever if you'd let him. He has no limit. He is a Deity after all. <3

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

None. Hates them too. Why have something as stupid as a toy there to try and please you when he does it well enough on his own? Why have any form of an imposter when he is there? Why insult his abilities with knockoffs like that?

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He enjoys it at any given point, but not a lot. Just enough to have his lover crying out his name. Just enough to have them yearning for him in just a fraction of the way he yearns for them.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

SILENT. Wouldn't say shit if he had a mouthful. Why bother? Any noise he makes is just taking away from what your crying out and he refuses to distract himself from that pure choir. A hymn of his own making.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If his lover asked, he'd let them peg him. He'd bottom for his lover. He'd give away any control if it meant keeping his lover. Want to wrap him up in satin red ribbons and keep his limbs starfished for your exploration?

He'd do it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

PACKING BIG HEAT Like, it's almost too big to take. Ten to eleven inches with GIRTH, maybe twelve when hard. Veiny too and he's circumcised. Has the prettiest head, just a lovely red that you can't help but want to suck. And BIG BREEDER BALLS <333

Just drain them dry babes <33

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He could go at any time, he just hides it. You say the word and he's following like an obedient puppy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Does not sleep. He's holding you and watching to ensure you take every breath he needs you to take. He's watching you all night just to make sure you live to see the next day <3

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #yandere legend of zelda #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #linked universe #link x reader #loz #cindersins #lu fierce deity #lu fierce deity x reader #yandere lu fierce deity #yander lu fierce deity x reader #fierce deity x reader #fierce deity my beloved

[limarieb]

it's so sweet knowing that you love me (though we don't need to say it to each other)

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You were born completely deaf, unable to fully learn how to read lips and constantly finding your hearing aids uncomfortable. On your venture for coffee, you find yourself overwhelmed (to the point of escape) when you are being spoken to by a (very pretty) woman who you cannot understand. Confusion and chaos arise on both ends. You return that same week, ready for the hateful confrontation that might take place. Fortunately, that "hateful" confrontation does not happen.

Warnings: none (a bit of angst, but then it's all fluff)

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: this little collection of one-shots is still one of my favorite things to think about occasionally... perhaps i will consider making a third part if you give me some of your ideas on what the third part should consist of...

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

Click Here for Part 2 to the 'Sweet' One-Shot Collection

...

From an early age, you realized that you were different from other people. When you would go to various places with your parents, random strangers always tried to talk to you. You couldn’t hear them, of course, considering the fact that you were born entirely deaf; adults and children alike never seem to understand that, though, and continued their quests of trying to get you to talk with your mouth rather than your hands.

Due to your innate inability to hear, you grew up learning sign language as your primary language. It wasn’t until you were four years old when you were lost in the supermarket, frantically trying to find your parents, that you realized the majority of people do not comprehend your language. Growing up in upstate New York, there weren’t exactly many people like you. There were not many people that felt ostracized by their community for something beyond their control, nor were there many individuals jumping at the opportunity to make accommodations for situations like yours. Thus, the most you were able to do in terms of communication was writing and reading in English and ‘speaking’ in sign language. Unlike some other people who were deaf, you were never able to learn how to read others’ lips, which frustrated you to no end.

And, honestly? It sucked. It was a lonely experience, and you spent many nights of your childhood (and adulthood) crying to your parents about it. It broke their hearts seeing their child experiencing such a cumbersome set of emotions and experiences that most do not even witness in a lifetime, and you knew they carried a pang of guilt about it all. You wish they didn’t, though, because you know it’s not their fault and that they have been trying their best to help you thrive despite your challenges. 

It wasn’t all bad, darkness, and negativity. In fact, there are many moments where you found your deafness as a sort of power or unique ability (instead of an inability). It allowed you to sense things differently. Your favorite way to decompress was feeling certain textures, especially the yarn blanket your mother made years ago, and putting on loud music so the vibrations would flow through the medium of the speakers and into your body via your fingers or your feet. Something about it all was therapeutic.

You received a pair of hearing aids as a child, but you did not necessarily prefer them. In circumstances where there were a lot of people in a given room, the sensations would become quite painful and confusing for your brain to untangle and compute all at once. Ergo, you only really use them on the occasion where you know prior that there were gonna be few people and low amounts of background noise, like when you are working one-on-one with a client.

Given that you were going to the local coffee place, you elected to leave hearing aids at home. You use your phone to place a mobile order, effectively removing the barrier of needing to talk to an employee to order. You walked into the shop and began your path towards the pick-up area. Reaching and sorting through the other orders, you eventually come to the realization that yours is not there. You figured that the staff was simply behind on crafting the drinks, so you wait for a few minutes.

As you anxiously played with your fingers, one of the employees approaches you. She was slightly taller than you, but she was also undeniably beautiful. Her long auburn hair was tied back, held in place by a mere tie. You caught a brief glance of her eyes, quickly noticing how green they were. In the presence of such a pretty lady, your anxiety began to rise. She gave a shy smile and began moving her lips to form words. Due to your overly anxious state and inability to read her lips, you rapidly became overwhelmed. You look behind her to see her coworkers behind the counter snickering at you two. Immediately, you assumed they were laughing solely at you, talking about how the only reasonable explanation for your lack of response was stupidity beyond any repair. 

So, you turned around and walked out of the door. You felt so embarrassed , more than you have ever felt since high school. All you wanted to do was go home and decompress.

Wanda stood there in a state of shock. One second, she was there trying to explain to you how she couldn’t make your drink because they were out of oat milk; the next, you were gone.

Did I say something wrong? Wanda thought to herself as she watched you escape her workplace.

Hanging her head in shame, she retreated to behind the counter where her coworkers, Bucky and Sam, were still laughing at her failed attempt to have a conversation with you. The brunette has watched you for a while from afar; she knew your favorite drink like the back of her hand, and she always tried to make sure your favorite spot in the corner of the café was kept neat and tidy for you. In her eyes, you were the most beautiful creature to walk on this planet. She would give up anything to know you as something more than just a customer.

Wanda let out a sigh of frustration mixed with sadness, leaning against the counter with her head in her hands. She finally broke the monotony of the undying laughter, “Would the two of you stop laughing? It’s not funny. Oh my god, that was so embarrassing.”

“Cheer up, little witch,” Bucky started. “There are more fish in the sea.”

“I don’t want other fish, though. I want her,” she tried to reason. “She’s so pretty, Bucky. And, after months, I finally worked up the courage to talk to her, and she just walked away from me.”

The latter part made Sam raise an eyebrow, “What do you mean she just walked away from you? Did you say something that could’ve upset her?”

“I don’t think so,” Wanda tried to think back. “I was just starting to explain how we were out of oat milk, so I couldn’t make her drink. But, before I could even give her some alternative choices, she just… left.”

Sam let out a hum, unsure of what exactly to reply. The three employees went back to work, yet Wanda was definitely not thinking about her encounter with you while making the various orders.

A few days had passed since the incident. Even though you vowed never to return to the coffee place (your favorite coffee joint), a conversation with your mother left you feeling more empowered and confident about it all. Her facial expressions and rapid hand motions displaying her anger at the workers forced a smile out of you. 

Thus, you decided that you were going to return to the coffee place the next morning. You repeated the same mobile order but decided to keep your phone in hand in case you needed to type something mean and vulgar at the employees who left you feeling humiliated the other day.

You grasp the handle and pull the door forward, granting yourself entry into the once comforting setting.

With a fleeting glance to the counter, your eyes briefly meet hers. It was too late to turn back now, so you cautiously walked to the familiar pick-up area. However, your drink seems to be missing again today. Great.

You look up to see the same woman from before warily approaching you, and it takes everything you have in your body to not flee the scene. Similar to the previous time she walked up to you, the girl began to speak again. She did not get very far before you opened the notes app on your phone and started to furiously type. By the expression on her face, you could tell she was surprised at the sudden action but waited for you to stop typing. 

After a minute passed, you finally turned the phone to show your message to the woman:

Hi, there. I’m deaf, and I don’t have hearing aids on at this moment. Anything that you’ve said, I did not hear… at all. 

You watched with patience as the other girl slowly and carefully skimmed the message. Her head tilted and her mouth opened to form an O-like shape, and you could pinpoint this moment with exact accuracy as the moment she realized that you were not (and were never) purposefully ignoring her — you couldn’t hear her; that’s why you must have left suddenly.

She shyly smiled and nodded towards your phone. With a quirked eyebrow, you offer it to her. She happily takes it from you to begin typing a message of her own:

Hi! I’m so sorry I didn’t realize before… I’m sure it must’ve been frustrating to just have someone talking AT you rather than WITH you. Is that why you left suddenly last time?

You weren’t really sure why you were surprised by her message, specifically the last part. Did she remember? After thinking for a few minutes, you form a reply:

Yeah, I guess… I was just very overwhelmed, and I saw some of the others laughing. I just felt bad, idk. So, I left.

You definitely did not expect the frown that appeared on her face when you walked in there today. She pointed to the phone, and you gave it to her once more. 

I’m sorry… if it makes you feel any better, they weren’t laughing at you or anything. Actually, they were laughing at me, not you.

As you read the new message, your face visibly contorted into confusion and disbelief.

What do you mean?

With the phone in her hands again, she typed: 

I’ve been wanting to talk to you for months, Y/N. The last time you were here, I finally tried to talk to you - at least about how we were out of oat milk for your drink. I guess they found you walking away without saying anything VERY comical. 

It was your turn to be in a complete and utter state of shock.

Oh… Wait, how do you know my name? 

She wrote her reply fairly quick: 

Who do you think makes your drink every time? ;)

As she passes the phone back to you, she personifies the wink in real life. Immediately, you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

Well, I feel like it’s fair to ask for your name now - an 'eye for an eye’ type of thing.

She subconsciously bites her bottom lip as she slid the phone over with her reply:

Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.

Something about her name and connecting it to her made you feel… light. 

Well, Wanda, I’m here talking to you now, aren’t I? Why did you want to talk to me before? Am I that intimating?

It was her turn to fall victim to blushing, reading your questions regarding her apprehension of talking to you.

Intimidating? No, not really. Really pretty, though? Can neither confirm nor deny.

You released a small, quiet chuckle at her compliment; Wanda, on the other hand, has to remember for a second how to breathe because she heard you for the first time. She loved it, and she only wants to hear more. 

Give me your phone?

You sit there in confusion but comply with her unspoken request nonetheless. You give you her unlocked phone again, except you notice there’s no new message in your notes app conversation. You raise your eyebrow, showing you don’t really understand what just happened. Wanda, however, just winks at you again and slowly returns to her spot behind the counter. 

You never found out what she did at that moment on your phone until you receive a text a few minutes later from a foreign contact labeled “Wanda ;)”:

Wanda ;)  [9:47 AM]

Hey, sorry to cut our convo short - I had to help the customers. Meet me for dinner after work? 6 pm? :)

How could you say no to a request from her? You look up from your phone to see her biting her lip, hiding a smile as she makes drinks for other people. You look back down at your own device to respond:

You [9:48 AM]

I’ll be there. :)

You don’t remember being treated with such care and understanding before, especially by who was merely a stranger moments ago and has seemingly little experience with a person who is deaf. Wanda was different, though — a good different. She initiated a feeling of happiness and freedom within you that had not been experienced prior to that day. Most people did not consider trying to help you or finding different ways to talk to you, but Wanda did; moreover, she did so because she wanted to — she wanted to actually know you. 

It was increasingly evident that you were beyond infatuated with her. The night went so well, in fact, that you changed her contact from “Wanda ;)” to “Wanda <3” after you met her for your date that same evening.

End.

#wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #limarieb #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader