#i have No thoughts other than Combine Things I Like

[atiny-piratequeen]

Doᥴtor's Assιstᥲᥒt

Summary: The Doctor needs an extra hand perfecting a new aphrodisiac.

...Well, you wont be using your hands, but that's besides the point

𓆩⟡𓆪 Pairing: Fem!Reader x Geb(Yunho)

𓆩⟡𓆪Genres/Aus: Against the Tide Verse (its an Au in an AU-), Non Idolverse, Smut

𓆩⟡𓆪Tws: Swearing

𓆩⟡𓆪Sws: (Everything is Safe, Sane, and Consensual), Consentacle Tentacles (Vines), Bondage, Fingering, Consensual Sexual Experimentation, Aphrodisiac Use, Fingering, Objectification

𓆩⟡𓆪Rating: Explicit/Mature (18+)

𓆩⟡𓆪WC: 800+

𓆩⟡𓆪A/n: For any of my non AtTiny who want to know who Geb is and how he’s tied to Yunho…idk maybe read a bombastic in progress work of art that explains it all cough cough.

This was a popcorn commission from the lovely @atiny-dazzlinglight that I finished a bit ago but life happened and I didn’t post it till now. Sorry for the hold up and I hope you and all my AtTiny can enjoy~

𓆩⟡𓆪AO3| Taglist Form (Please make sure your urls are updated and able to actually be tagged) | Commission Sheet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪Network Ping- @kwritersworld| @k-vanity | @cultofdionysusnet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪©atiny-piratequeen. do not repost, translate, or use my works𓆩⟡𓆪

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･

“F-fuck, oh my God-”

“My, that’s an interesting reaction.” 

Had it had been any other day, you might have been able to conjure up a bratty response. Instead, you look up through the tears blurring your vision, lips quivering as you angle your head up for a kiss. 

“I see the purple one has a stronger effect on you than the red one from earlier did. Poor thing, you look like you’ll melt right out of my lap if I weren’t holding onto you.” Geb mused, his vines writhing along your skin, pulling and tugging you close to his chest as he angled his head down. 

You whimper, a sliver of pink slipping past your parted lips as you lick at his own, successfully enticing him to kiss you. 

“More.” You beg as large hands find their home on your waist, caressing and mapping out every curve, tracing every stretch mark, all while stunning ice-colored eyes remain fixed on your face. 

“I wonder what would happen if we mixed them. The warmth of the Flame Lily mixing with the stimulant enhancement in the Clivia-”He went off mumbling under his breath, humming as he wrapped his arms around you, idly rubbing your clit in circles as he talked himself through formulas for more nectar combinations. 

He was off in his own world, truly and completely, and it made goosebumps rise on your skin to both be doted on, and spoiled, but also to feel like you were just another object in the room as the good doctor‘s fingers pinched and rolled your clit idly. 

“Please-”

“Mm, maybe if I increase the dose by a few grams, it’ll last a bit longer, I don’t like how easily the other dose wore off.” He mused, resting his chin on your shoulder. You squirm, clenching on nothing, legs twitching in his vines. He didn’t say a word to you, muttering in English and another language you didn’t understand, sorting through his thoughts. 

You open your mouth to whine again, but a gasp of surprise tumbles through instead. His hand had worked its way lower as he distracted himself-and apparently you-with his mutters. Warm, slightly calloused fingers curl over your thigh, massaging for a moment, before working between your lower lips. 

You jolt the moment he touches you. It seemed the purple concoction he’d given you minutes ago had left you much more sensitive than you’d expected. 

The vines twitch and contrast around you, tightening and keeping your legs spread as those long fingers push into you, and you’re flustered by the way his attention snapped into focus at the whorish moan the action drew from your lips. 

“O h~ It seems like I found the perfect mix, did I?” He purred, kissing up the base of your neck and smiling as he worked those fingers in and out of you, scissoring them apart as you arch your back. 

You’re almost embarrassed at how wet you are, arching your back and gasping pathetically as he curled his fingers up. 

“My, this is wonderful news. I believe I’ve found the perfect balance for this.” His voice rumbles through your head, and it's now that you realize his fingers were coated in the aphrodisiac he’d been muttering out. You shakily glance down, cheeks flushed as the pretty liquid falls to the floor at his feet as you remain held up by the vines, joining droplets of your essence onto the floor. 

Your eyes flutter as you clench around his fingers. Goosebumps rise on your skin as he alternated between thrusting his fingers in with deep, near methodical motions, curling and searching for that delightful spot, and quick, off-beat thrusts. 

“Geb~ G-geb fuck, yes yes yes nn-” its now you realize you’re drooling, your arms being pulled behind your back by his vines as a slow, deceptively calm smile stretched across his face. 

“You can make a mess. We’re only just getting started.” He promised, kissing you and pushing more of the sweet-tasting nectar onto your tongue through it. You feel your body jerk and tighten, kissing him sloppily as you make a mess of his fingers, hand, and the floor. 

His eyes slowly drift down to the puddle that’s left behind before he ran his hand over the top of your head, kissing the tears that had fallen from the corner of your eye away. 

“Are you still alright, my love?” He rumbled, his gentle voice bouncing around in your head. You nod, body buzzing in delight as you look at him, whining in offense when he pulled those long fingers out of you. 

“No-”

“-ah ah.” He quiets you, holding your gaze as he ran his tongue over the mixture of nectar and cum on his fingers. 

“Like I said. We’re only j u s t getting started. Catch your breath. I still have many more to try with you.”

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　Tag List　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･

@kimnamshiks @atiny-dazzlinglight @angel0taiyo @jacksons-goddess-gaia @gettin-a-lil-hanse @yunhofingers @seomisaho @ateezwonderland @smallfrye @spooo00oky @shymexican @stardragongalaxy @horizonmoonfics @delphinium3000 @xuxibelle @twistedsiren @soluvcore @dreamyinception-world @justatiredhuman @serialee @yungiland @shingisimp @drunk-on-hwa @perfectlysane24 @asyamonet22 @bangteezbaby @universe-sighted @skmoonchild @babiebumm @jess-1404 @violetwinters @xlilehx @ateezswonderland

#fie writes #kwritersworldnet #cultofdionysusnet #k-vanity #against the tide #AtT #geb oneshot #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #kpop mythology au #yunho smut #AtT smut #kpop fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut

[boba-beom]

model students | CHOI BEOMGYU NSFW MDNI

PAIRING. college students! beomgyu x fem!reader

GENRE. oneshot; smut, little fluff

WC. 1k

WARNINGS. oral (both rec.), making out, beomgyu’s filthy 🫠, college setting, petnames;(big boy, baby, pretty/good girl), car sex, kind of but nawt, subtle hair pulling, kind of academic rivals?, balls, cum swallowing, not cheating but reader was is seeing someone else :p not proofread and lmk if there's anything I've missed!

A/N. inspired by a scene in heartbreak high series s2 on netflix with a sprinkle of my own twists hehe the fact that I had a lot to drink this evening, I'm surprised my brain isn't so fried. or maybe it is idk lmao enjoy!

your legs found comfort—to some extent—over beomgyu’s broad shoulders. the heel of your shoes dirtying the white of his adidas jacket as you writhe under his hold. thankfully he brought that with him today otherwise your professors would have to ask about the subtle dirt stains along the middle of his back.

moans gradually pitching higher after every suck of his puffy lips on your clit or every flick of his tongue along your slit, a mess of slick of saliva combined dripping down your inner thighs to the leather of his seats.

your chest heaving and your eyes squeezing shut indicates how close you were to your release and you were closer than you thought. all it took was a couple more of beomgyu’s talented tongue lapping up at your core with his thumb rubbing small and quick circles on your nub.

“ah- oh fuck beomgyu, feels so good!” you borderline squeal, forgetting that the car door was open the whole time while he was kneeling on the ground.

“fucking hell baby, any louder and you’d get us both expelled.” he chuckles to himself, raising his head from between your quivering thighs with his glasses fogging up.

“oh shut up, don’t be so smug about it.” you let out an airy laugh, catching your breath from another one of your crazy good orgasms you get from the man before you.

beomgyu stands up fully, peering around to make sure no one else was in the parking lot apart from the both of you. you sit up and notice the bulge in his pants, your hands automatically attending to it and you almost moan at how hard he is.

“mmhm, lemme help you out, big boy.” you kiss him through his slacks, hands on his thighs as they tense under your hold.

“not gonna refuse that, let’s see what else that pretty mouth can do other than talk shit. model student my ass.” he scoffs, running his fingers through your hair and curling them to pull your head back, looking up at him and his shit eating grin.

“just admit you’re mad my team won that debate and you literally chat shit all the time, the fuck you mean.” you palm him harder, releasing his hold on your hair aggressively to unzip his pants.

“oh shut up and suck my dick- the only thing your mouth is good at.”

he pulls his boxers lower until his dick sprung out and you caught his tip in your mouth almost immediately. as much as you hated beomgyu talking shit, you loved watching him crumble from you sucking his girthy dick. he hisses when your tongue swirls around the head until you decided to take him in deeper, letting him lay his heavy dick on your tongue.

“mmphh, that’s it baby, such a good girl for me.” beomgyu looks down at you with hazy eyes, hands resting on the roof of the car while he tests out the movements in his hips.

at one point you stop lowering your mouth around his shaft and he takes it into his own hands to hold your head and fuck your throat until you were gargling spit on either side of your mouth.

if there was one thing beomgyu loved during a good head sesh, was that you have to be messy with him. make it super wet with your spit to push him closer to the edge. and at this point you knew he’d cum in no time.

and you needed that since you had around 5 minutes until your next class starts.

you fondle with his balls just the way he likes it—his staccato pace giving away he was about to cum. releasing him from your mouth your hands took over, maintaining that pace he had kept before.

“yeah? gonna give me all your load? c’mon, big boy, give it to me. only me right?” you look at him with wet doe eyes that pushes him over the edge; lips swollen, cheeks and chin wet.

he lets out the most sinful moan you’ve ever heard. and among all moans you’ve heard from him, that one has you rubbing your thighs, pussy fluttering over nothing.

beomgyu’s head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut with his hands back to gripping onto the edge of the roof of his car. you love the way his lips hang open, letting you hear just how down bad he is for you. moaning a string of “so good,” and “good girl,” as he cums on your tongue, some falling on the sides.

he pants, looking down at you milking the last few drops while you stare at each other, swallowing with no questions asked.

“wanna cum on your face next time, will you let me?” he whines, wanting to see your pretty face covered in his thick seed.

“gonna have to invite me over or something. can’t have your cum on my face during college hours.” you roll your eyes at him, cleaning up your clothes and around your mouth. “also, I swear down, don’t fucking tell anyone.”

“or else what?” beomgyu bites back, shoving his face in yours.

“or else you’ll have to go find some other pussy to eat, baby.” you whisper by his lips, tapping his cheek gently with your palm until you give him a hard kiss, parting with his bottom lip between your teeth as he groans. “yeah, thought so.”

you scoot out of his car, flattening out your skirt and throwing your bag over your shoulder. he watches you run up to someone. from afar all beomgyu could see was the guy had one dimple and grown out hair in almost a mullet.

“tyun!” you hug him and he keeps an arm around your waist as you walk to your next class together.

“how did debate go?”

“we won thanks to you, for helping me prepare for it, of course.” you smile up at him sweetly, and he notices a little glow on your cheeks. either from the good weather he thinks, or just because you’ve been glowing a lot recently.

“proud of you baby,” he kisses your temple twice before you both walk away.

jealousy sparks in beomgyu’s stomach after seeing the pda, but he ends up chuckling to himself as he changes out his jacket.

“you may kiss her forehead but she just sucked my dick,” he whispers, fully smug of himself.

please leave your thoughts and feedback! it will be much appreciated <3

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

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[youryurigoddess]

Maggie’s pendants and good omens

Yes, you’ve read it right. This post is going to deal with some literal good omens, not just title drop! But first things first, let’s take a closer look at the topic of this analysis.

A toucan

The top necklace is a lovely design involving a crowned toucan — believed to be a messenger of gods able to travel between the spiritual and the physical world, often associated with rain and rainbow (a Christian symbol of divine love, grace, and mercy, a reminder of the covenant between God and humanity to spare the latter from future trials like the Flood) — encircled by a gold band (a symbol of infinity, eternal love and promise) spun by a small butterfly (a symbol of transformation, hope, and rebirth). All three symbols combined seem to deliver a divine message of hope for rebirth, possibly resurrection, and the eternal life. Very fitting in the context of the Second Coming.

The fact that toucans were revered by the native South Americans as rainbringers strengthens the symbolic meaning of another type of bird we can spot on Maggie’s clothes in the very first episode, as her character introduction — a swallow. Swallows flying low are also believed to be harbingers of rain and bad weather. If you see one close to Earth or a building, it means that there’s a storm — or a certain biblical tempest — on the horizon.

In Ancient Greece and Rome swallows were representing Aphrodite, goddess of love. In Christianity they were considered to be of God and symbolized hope, awakening, and revival of life as messengers of spring and protectors from winter colds. Also helped Jesus on the Cross — according to a Christian legend, a group of swallows was supposed to take out the thorns from the Crown of Thorns and alleviate His Passion on the Cross. Humans banding together in the name of good have been a big theme in the series ever since The Them made an appearance, and from what we already know about the unpublished Good Omens sequel, we can assume that Jesus is going to take the spotlight in the upcoming season.

Maggie definitely attracts sudden inexplicable weather changes, like a thunderstorm with weirdly localized lightning strikes or a sudden downpour. And we’re still waiting for some vavooming (and the following happy ending) to happen in S3.

A heart with an eye

Now, the more nuanced clue hidden in the bottom necklace. I know that some of us were trying to tackle the concept of Maggie’s eye in a heart pendant suggesting her Masonic connotations, but this symbol (or the Eye of Providence in general) isn’t strictly Masonic, it isn’t even limited only to Judeo-Christian art. And while it is used a lot in Christian iconography, we should focus on a very specific example of it already referenced in the show.

Buckle up, we’re making a parachute dive into S1.

It seems like our old friend, Agnes Nutter, still has our backs.

Prophecy 4020:

Let the wheel of fate turne, let harts enjoin, there are othere fyres than mine; when the whirl wynd whirls, reach oute one to another.

If you look closely at the bottom right corner of this frame, you will see that as an illustration for the above prophecy the production team chose a 1611 engraving titled The Minde should have a fixed Eye On Objects, that are plac’d on High first found in Gabriel Rollenhagen’s Nucleus emblematum selectissimorum.

In 1635 it was published in A Collection of Emblemes, Ancient and Moderne Quickened With Metrical Illustrations, both Morall and Divine, Etc by George Wither with the accompanying hymn:

A Heart, which bore the figure of an Eye

Wide open to the Sunne; by some, was us'd,

When in an Emblem, they would signifie

A Minde, which on Celestiall Matters mus'd:

Implying, by the same, that there is nought

Which in this lower Orbe, our Eyes can see,

So fit an Object for a manly thought,

As those things, which in Heav'n above us be.

God, gave Mankinde (above all other Creatures)

A lovely Forme, and upward-looking Eye,

(Among the rest of his peculiar Features)

That he might lift his Countenance on high:

And (having view'd the Beauty, which appeares

Within the outward Sights circumference)

That he might elevate above the Sphæres,

The piercing Eye, of his Intelligence.

Then, higher, and still higher strive to raise

His Contemplations Eyes, till they ascend

To gaine a glimpse of those eternall Rayes,

To which all undepraved Spirits tend.

For, 'tis the proper nature of the Minde

(Till fleshly Thoughts corrupt it) to despise

Those Lusts whereto the Body stands inclin'd;

And labour alwayes, upward to arise.

Some, therefore, thought those Goblins which appeare

To haunt old Graves and Tombes, are Soules of such,

Who to these loathsome places doomed were,

Because, they doted on the Flesh too much.

But, sure we are, well-minded Men shall goe

To live above, when others bide below.

And hey, guess what 4020, i.e., the number of the prophecy, symbolizes in Strong’s Concordance? Periergazomai, a Greek word meaning “to waste one's labor about something” — to meddle, going beyond proper boundaries (where a person doesn't belong); to fixate on what others are doing, instead of doing what the person himself is supposed to do.

It appears only once in the Bible:

2 Thessalonians 3:11: We hear that some among you are idle and disruptive. They are not busy; they are busybodies. Such people we command and urge in the Lord Jesus Christ to settle down and earn the food they eat. And as for you, brothers and sisters, never tire of doing what is good.

To make things slightly more interesting, in the Hebrew version of Strong’s Concordance 4020 has another meaning — migbaloth, meaning “twisted things, i.e. cords”. Which doesn’t make much sense until we read the actual passage:

Exodus 28:24 and two chains of pure gold, twisted like cords; and you shall attach the corded chains to the settings.

And compare it to the most recent post on the topic published directly by Word of God:

What if all these clues didn’t apply to Maggie and Nina, but Aziraphale and Crowley instead? What if Maggie served as a messenger — consciously or not — just like the toucan, delivering the prophecy to those who need it most?

“When the tempest comes and darkness and great storms, and the dead will leave their graves and walk the Earth once more and there will be great lamentations for the end is near, don’t lose hope, hold hands and look up.”

Basically what Aziraphale and Crowley already did when they performed the 25 Lazarii miracle, only with no interference from Gabriel this time around.

And, if both Strong’s Concordance and Maggie’s personal addition to her second pendant are to be believed, with a wedding band somehow involved in the process.

#everything has a meaning #the invisible and unbreakable line that joins Crowley and Aziraphale #two chains of pure gold twisted like cords #never tire of doing what is good #don’t lose hope #hold hands and look up #the good omens crew is unhinged #good omens props #good omens costumes #the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter #agnes nutter #good omens #maggie service #good omens meta #good omens analysis #strong’s concordance #yuri is doing her thing #ineffable husbands #wedding bands

[foone]

weird thought: I think if I was a teenager now (or anytime in the last decade or so) I think I would have written (and read!) a lot more fanfic than I did in reality, where I was a teenager in the 90s.

See, I've never been hugely into fanfic. Never had anything against it exactly, but it just wasn't something I was into. But I think that has to do with an interesting combination of how my brain works and what time I was first really getting into being a fan.

I've got a "librarian" brain (I'm literally typing this from within a library, WHERE I WORK). It wants to know things like "what are all the works in this series/by this creator?" and "are they all accessible?" and "what info is available about how it was made?"

I'm the kind of person who will watch a show then go look it up on wikipedia to see how many seasons it has, who made it, if they're still making it, check tvtropes for any more info, etc. Or I hear a song I like by a band I've never heard of, so I go listen to their entire discography while researching them. I just focus on things I'm into that way, you know? I don't half-ass my interest. (this is probably related to my autism, of course)

So what does this have to do with fanfic? like, do I go read some fanfics as part of this process? No, and I think the reason for it is when I specifically first got into fandom, as a teen.

See, this sort of fandom-librarian was harder to do in 1997, you know? You couldn't just pull up the wikipedia for that new show and see how many episodes it had. You also couldn't just listen to the whole discography of that band! Forget Spotify or Google Music, even Napster didn't exist yet.

So my interest in fandom focused a lot more on very basic questions: How many episodes/albums/books/whatever are there? Where can I see/hear them all? Like, I remember getting excited because I found some fan magazine that had a list of all the Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes. Just a list! Not even descriptions or anything. I finally could take that list and see how many I'd seen, so I'd know when I saw them all in late-night reruns.

So I'm focusing on these very basic parts of being a fandom-librarian and I stumble across some fanfic. I'm like "oh, is this a transcript of an episode I haven't seen yet?" and I realize it's not, it's a story written by a fan, and I get a knee-jerk reaction of "that's not helpful to my quest to know and find all the episodes". It's like I am on a quest for the holy grail and I found a fake cup. It's not helpful to me, and at worst it's a distraction from my goal.

And the thing is, I think the fact I had that reaction is entirely due to the time and situation in which I first encountered fanfic. It was in that environment of "I can't even find a list of the episodes, let alone a way to watch them all!" and that anxiety that colored my response to finding fanfic.

I think if I instead was first introduced to fanfic NOW, where those fandom-librarian drives aren't so difficult to fulfill, I'd be way more positive about fanfic. If I could get a list of episodes with a quick google search, and watch them easily on netflix/prime/whatever, I'd be less "THIS DOESN'T HELP! I AM STRUGGLING WITH THE BASICS HERE!" and more "yay, more content for the fandom I'm obsessed with!"

Like I said, I'm not anti-fanfic, I never have been, I just never got into it. From the beginning I had this reaction that was "this is not useful" and I never developed any real interest in it. Which is a shame, honestly. Fanfic is great. It just never became one of my interests, and while I've written it and read it from time to time, I imagine I'd be way more into it if I didn't have the weird reaction to it due to the worries of the time in which I first encountered it.

I don't know how many other people have brains that work anything like mine, but if they exist, I'm glad they're now growing up in a world where they won't have these problems. They can get into fanfic without this weird baggage caused by a lack of information.

#fanfic meta

[zarvasace]

And here are Dire and Madness, dark Twilight and dark Four!

Rambling and more art beneath the cut as has been standard :) only two more left to do and guys I love them

Masterpost

Dire

Dire is dark Twilight. 

He and Twilight share one major trait: they are protectors. Not even a process that bastardized Sky’s kindness could take that away. By no means is Dire nice, however. He is a Twilight that has lost all control and doesn't care to regain it, because that would mean facing all he's done. Some part of Dire is aware and suffering, but he purposely buries that part.  

But on the surface that he presents and identifies with, Dire lashes out at everything that causes him pain—which is a lot of things. Dire is no different from the other Darks, in that he can't stand the light and gets annoyed quickly. He doesn't often speak, and nobody is really sure how much he really understands of what's around him. He acts more like an animal than a human in a lot of ways, and is often a little more cruel than he has to be. He's unnaturally strong and quick, and his weapons of choice are his nails and teeth. He indulges his brutal urges because the alternative is thinking.

For plans that require destruction and fighting, the Darks let Dire run out first. He could probably fight an army on his own, provided that he has plenty of darkness and an enemy without too much strategy. He's powerful and extremely dangerous. Due to that, the Darks don't let him run free. They use the shackles around his wrists and neck to keep him nearby and out of maiming range. When they do let him out though (to hunt or fight or exercise or whatever), he always comes back…

Because Dire is a protector. He leans more offensive than Twilight, but Dire too knows friend from foe. He doesn't always care, but Dire has sorted the other Darks as “friend” in his head, and he won't let anything hurt them except for themselves, if he can. He's particularly fond of Madness and Nothing, and has been known to grab them and not let them go, even when they start biting. 

Dire’s design pulls a lot from the fever dream in Twilight Princess: gray skin, blank eyes. He has longer, more matted hair than Twilight. His claws are wicked sharp, and he wears tattered clothes without shoes. His wolf pelt is the softest thing about him, and it really should be washed. His markings are a bit more dramatic than Twilight’s, extending down his cheeks and arms and legs. 

Despite the markings, Dire does not have an alternate form like Twilight. Well, he might, but he was never cursed the same way, and this technically is his dark world form. Some combination of magic might give him the ability to shapeshift, but he doesn't need it. He's bestial as it is. 

Madness

Madness is dark Four! There is one big question here: is Madness the same person as Shadow from the manga?

Yes and no! Madness and Shadow do not exist at the same time as separate individuals. They were both made from Four’s darkness, but for different purposes. Shadow really did die when he smashed the mirror, and this isn't exactly a second chance… but it might be. Think of it like this: that body is a computer. Shadow was an operating system there, logging away memories and performing programs. Madness is on the same computer, but is a different operating system (a weaker one, really). However, those memories and personality from Shadow still exist, buried and only subconsciously influencing Madness’s behavior. They act eerily alike sometimes, not that anyone but Four would notice. Perhaps someday, Shadow’s OS will break through and become dominant, but even if he did, he wouldn't be the same. Madness would still be there. 

“Still rivers run deep”—to me, this is very much Four. One body, four colors; a deep knowledge of his chosen trade; a rather serious demeanor with a lot of variety and thoughts; plans and ideas backed up with a combination of emotion and logic. He's balanced. In contrast, Madness is a “fast river running shallowly,” an unbalanced amalgamation of too much, all at once, a broad variety with little substance. 

Madness is a little… unhinged. He's clearly smart, but he speaks in roundabout ways, making connections that don't exist or are too convoluted for anyone to follow. He stares into the distance a lot, and can be quite unnerving if you try to notice how often he blinks (rarely). Nobody can really decide how much of his behavior is on purpose or just how he is. When let loose, Madness shows unparalleled capacity for complex plans, but he doesn't always know how to hold back and often goes overboard. He'll beat that dead horse, and bomb those charred ruins, and smash that fallen vase… You get the picture. 

A lot of these Darks have an odd magical power, and Madness’s is one of the more prominent ones. With a touch, he can attempt to bury a bit of his power in the mind of a sentient being (human, Rito, Zora, Minish, etc) and turn them into a thrall. While a being is a thrall, their eyes turn red and their consciousness goes to sleep. Madness can give them mental commands, and they technically work under his processing power and not their own, so no matter how vague the commands are, they do what he means them to do. Madness can also jump into thralls’ heads to pilot them specifically, seeing from their eyes and speaking from their mouth. He doesn't magically know everything about the thrall, though, so he still has to try to impersonate, and that doesn't usually work well. While he pilots, Madness is still technically in his body, so he will say out loud anything he's commanding the thrall to say, which limits his opportunities to trick the others. 

Without commands, the thralls sit in still silence, which means that over extended periods of time, Madness does have to worry about food and rest for them. The more thralls he has, the less effective he is, because his focus is split, even if he isn't directly piloting more than one person at a time. If he lets someone go even for a moment, the connection is severed entirely. He absolutely refuses to use any thralls in a combat scenario, because he feels their pain, even though it's fainter when he isn’t directly piloting. He uses thralls instead to gather information, start rumors, purchase/steal supplies, and often just cause chaos. 

Madness is actually rather genre-aware. He knows that their schemes are destined to ultimately fail, because the Darks are the “bad guys” and they will lose. As such, he's hedging his bets and logging away information for an inevitable betrayal to the Lights. He does not intend to be on the losing side when it gets down to it. He has half-baked plans to snatch a few of the other Darks and take them with him, too. Madness absolutely does not take any sort of leadership role, which means that he doesn't feel any responsibility to rein in Nothing, making him Nothing’s favorite. Madness also spends time hanging out with Dire, who he thinks understands more than he lets on. Those two would be his first choices, and he thinks Nothing might know that. (This is not at all related to the fact that Shadow’s memories of betrayal are both sweet and bitter.) 

Madness does not get along well with Agony—Madness prefers chaos and mind games over Agony’s stab-first approach. He purposely annoys everyone else. Along with Depth and Shackle, Madness is one of the few Darks who can pass as human, so he's been on a few excursions into towns or groups, and he likes emphasizing his unnerving traits. He'll use a sword if he has to, but prefers bombs and words. He doesn't have any powers from Shadow (shapeshifting, stretchiness, whatever else), but he is very sensitive to light, like most of the Darks. 

Madness casts a wide net, putting on an air of randomness with a sprinkle of insanity for flavor. He connects more dots than he appears to, though, and has a few unexpected urges toward the light. Make no mistake, though, he is a Dark, and he has no intention of doing good just to do good. His ultimate goal is to survive the Dark Chain’s fall, and beyond that… traveling? Therapy? Living at home with people he doesn't hate? (Why does he feel an emotional connection to his Light? Why does he want to protect him? Why does he want to exercise his freedom? Why does it feel like he's running out of time until—)

#my art #lu z darks au #linked universe #sorry for the low contrast dire there #had a hard time with some of these colors #ugh tumblr messws up my posts

[moooncats]

✿ PAC: What is holding you back? ✿ •○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○

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✿ Pile 1 ✿

✿ What is holding you back? ✿

This is going to be pretty specific here but I'm hearing dream theif. Have you been dreaming at all lately? Your mind could be blocked with a lot of unnecesary stress and random thoughts which makes you over think everything. You carry this baggage with you all day and during the night when it's time for rest, your brain can't reciprocrate what to relay back to you. This vicious cycle then repeats over and over again and you find yourself burnt out, drained, and powerless to your own restrictions. This is honestly reminding me of the video game touch detective. There is a whimsical character named Penelope who gets her dreams stolen by a pastry chef Antoinette. Basically, she crystalizes her sweet dreams and uses it in her pastries. "Dream Cake" a very tasty treat that brought her much fortune. Now that I'm thinking about it, it's a bit ironic that her dreams get stolen to be made into sweets. It reminds me of the saying that sugar before bed causes nightmares. 🍰🤔 💭

✿ How to regain your own power ✿

A dream journal is definitely needed for this pile. I feel that even if you don't have any dreams there is still messages desperately trying to come through to you. When you wake up, get in the habit of writing down the first thoughts that come into your mind. Over time, you'll see that this simple process will retrain your brain to create dreams for you. If you are suffering from the case of nightmares, I would recommend to still journal out what happens. There's hidden messages for you that once you reread it. I would also recommend aroma therapy. In touch detective there was a item you could use called "a sweet dream pillow". It was made with a soft pillow and perfume. Annointing your pillow with lavendar oil and putting an amethyst crystal inside the pillow case may help you when you drift off into the dream realm. (Gif is from another video game fran bow would also highly reccomend playing it or watching a walkthrough on youtube as well as touch detective ♡♡♡).

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✿ Pile 2 ✿

✿ What is holding you back? ✿

This could be a prominant feminine figure in your life. This may also be a Male who has a lot of feminine traits. I'm picking up on someone who is spiritual, intuitive, and somewhat wise. They are definitely older than you spiritually and physically. However, for some reason I'm seeing here that when you listen to them and try to follow their teachings, the timing when you try to put their words into action is a bit off. For example, If they told you a story about how they met their signifigant other and it was using candle magick, you may try that out on your crush and it might not work for you. This causes you to basically take 3 steps backwords instead of 3 steps foward. You feel confused and wonder why it worked for them and not for you. When that happens you're most likely confused and wondering why things may seem off. Thus the negative thoughts roll in; Maybe you don't have Magick within you? Maybe you aren't meant for this life? However honey, we all know you have what it takes within you.

✿ How to regain your own power ✿

Just as the previous sentence said you have everything within you to make your reality come true. This pile is innovators. We are in the age of Aquarius, use what resonates with your generation. It is 100% okay to come up with a ritual that fits to you. Technology is an amazing tool. We can get and transfer information so easily. For example subliminals on youtube are so powerful even though all you have to do is listen/watch them, it's so simple yet effective. On the other hand, using old techniques with the combination of new ones will yield great results in your practice. Learn to be confident in your own power and how your mind is. Utilize the tools that you have now that your ancestors had to take hours or days to even get simple answers. We are truly in the future lovelies. 🚀🌌👽

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✿ Pile 3 ✿

✿ What is holding you back? ✿

You are a bit unbalance as of now my dears. Is there an addiction that you're hiding? It could be as simple as vaping or drinking alcohol. You know when I got your cards I instantly thought of peer pressure. Is there someone in your life who is expecting you to do a lot which causes you to turn to your own vices to cope with all that extra unnesesary stress? If that is so it is very clear with your reading. It seems like you're trying to gain clarity on something and it is holding you back a lot. This pile is reminding me of Ariel from the little mermaid. She wanted to be a human so badly that she made a deal with Ursula just so she can marry a prince. She went to extreme lengths just to please another man. If this is resonating with you perhaps watch the little mermaid there may be hidden messages in the movie for you.

✿ How to Regain your own Power ✿

Everything is fine but remember- in moderation pile 3. I'm seeing here that you have to juggle things in your life so you can truly gain balance. Basically think of a waitress in a heavy traficked restaurant. So many items of food to serve but theres limited space on her tray. Whatever shall she do? Well, she would delegate each food and grab more trays for them. Then cautiosly take the food to her tables while also taking multiple trips. Organizing all your habits is the key here. You need to learn how to strive for balance and harmony. Like a skilled alchemist, blend opposing forces and find the middle path. Trust in your innate ability to bring together seemingly conflicting elements to create a harmonious whole. Remember to seek moderation and patience as you navigate lifes challenges.

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✿ Pile 4 ✿

✿ What is holding you back? ✿

Are you bored? Perhaps you have the same ole routine that you stick to in your little palace far away from other people. Do you truly feel happy being away from so many people? I'm seeing here that you are lost in a perpetual cycle of intense introspection. Learning is amazing pile 4, but what exactly are you doing with all this new information? This pile reminds me of the saying "knowledge is power". Like yes it is power, but it is that exact knowledge that's holding you back. Like a hermit you stay in your house all day learning. You most likely are into astrology, numerology, astra travel, personality tests, documentaries, etc. Why with the internet I don't blame you. We have the power to learn anything with the touch of a fingertip it can be quite addictive. Especially since it's not like the old days where you had to wait months just to hear from someone through letters. We can easily communicate through technology. But at what cost? Most times were mindlessly staring at a screen- do you truly feel as if you're living in the moment?

✿ How to regain your power ✿

You are in desperate need of a new change of scenery pile 4. I'm seeing here that your mind, body, and soul earns for more. You were put on this earth to help people my dear pile 4. You have so much knowlege and hidden truths in your intricate brain. All that's left to do is to share that knowledge with others. Traveling even to a new city for a day will do wonders for you. "There is only one way to learn... It's through action. Everything you need to learn, you have learned through your journey" -Paulo Coelho The Alchemist. I feel like this quote is perfect for you pile 4, because you're in a stage of stagnation. When we are stagnant nothing good or bad will happen, we're just still. Yes, it does teach us patience but I feel like now is definitely a time to take action as you are well equiped with everything you need to do great things. The world is your oyster.

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#baby witch #intuition #intuitive #tarot #tarotreading #pac #pick a card #free tarot #tarotblr #witchblr #moooncatstarot

[pumpkinsouppe]

Here's my interpretations of all the OOT sages!! I have closeups of each sage and my thoughts behind their headcanon design changes below ^_^ (im alsooooo thinking of selling these as stickers if i ever figure out my silhouette)

Zelda

I headcanon Zelda is half Hylian half Sheikah with Impa being their aunt (mother’s sister, mother being full Sheikah and died when Zelda was young)

I also hc Zelda/Sheik as either transmasc or gender fluid depending on the interpretation of OOT I’m using, in this art Zelda is gender fluid and since I’m talking about sheik and Zelda a lot here I’ll just use they/them

Combined Zelda’s design with Sheik’s to make it more believable that they’re the same person this includes:

A skin color closer to Sheik’s concept art

Heterochromia, which is why sheik was hiding one of their eyes (and Zelda was forced to wear contacts or use magic to hide being half Sheikah post civil war)

Hylian pointed ears, another characteristic sheik had to hide (more info under Impa’s notes)

Lighter blond hair to be closer to Sheikah white hair

Sheik’s eye shape and eyebrows

Textured long hair, sheik would have a braid like in smash bros

Not pictured but if sheik is broad shouldered and muscular, then so is Zelda!!!!

Big forehead Zelda truther

Impa

Shares some traits with Zelda since I hc them as being related such as similar nose shape, eye shape, and skin tone

Textured hair styled into locs, tied into a short ponytail

Sheikah pointed ears, since Sheik hides their ears I thought it would be fun to have another different characteristic between the human races such as differing ear shapes. If Sheik showed their ears it would be a giveaway that they are not fully Sheikah

The rest is basically the same

Rauru

Rauru is perfect as he is all I did was give him spots on his skin to give him more accurate skin of an older person

Saria

So one thing I hc about Saria is that she was Link’s caretaker/mother figure in OOT so my main goal was to make her look childlike but have a more mature face

So I gave her rounder cheeks and made her smaller compared to everyone else and gave her larger eyes and a button nose but I also gave her some lines around her eyes to suggest age, I also gave her thinner eyebrows similar to a kid

I changed her eyes to brown bc I’m tired of all these blue eyed characters, there’s a severe drought of brown eyed characters in tloz

I gave her freckles

Her ears are also pointed upwards. I think the great deku tree did his best to make the kokiri look Hylian especially for link’s sake but he couldn’t get the ears right and they turned a little more animal-like since they live in the middle of the forest and are used to animals than humans. So kokiri look identical to Hylian children except the one difference is their ears being a different shape

Everything else is basically the same

Ruto

RUTOOOOOO ‼️‼️‼️‼️💕💕💕💕💕💕💕‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💕💕💕💕

Her size is much larger bc why are all the royal male zora 20 stories high but not the female zora, she would be almost as tall as Darunia at this age

I changed her eyes to be like all the other zora, it’s weird all the other zora have full color eyes yet she has human eyes 😭😭 you can tell the Zelda team was terrified about being called monster fuckers by committing fully to making Ruto have all the same traits as other zora

I also gave her freckles and added more spots on her to give her more texture and bc I love the way the Majora’s mask zora look

I haven’t drawn her body so I don’t have itemized changes but I’d make a couple more changes, other than that she’s perfect. Only smaller changes were made to just make her more zora-like than the design the devs used bc they were scared of idek what. Women can be beasts and monsters!!!! Cowards

Nabooru

Nabooru had the most changes besides Zelda but technically Zelda was a mash of two designs rather than fixing all of the issues with Nabooru’s design

My goal was to make her look like an actual person rather than a caricature such as changing her over exaggerated nose to be a hooked nose, removing the white on her lips, etc. If there is anything I need to change about my new design for her please let me know, I want to keep her recognizable without using the harmful designs the devs gave her

I gave her a darker skin color and gave her moles

I toned her red hair so that it looks more natural

I haven't fully decided on her clothes but considering she's in the desert i gave her long sleeves esp bc the area you find her in has crazy sandstorms

I'm still deciding if i keep her yellow eyes or not, i like their contrast and how it matches her eyeshadow but also I want more brown eyed characters

Darunia

The one big change about Darunia is making him more animal like by giving him more of a snout and a dog-like nose. I don't like how Gorons are designed in games like twilight princess and the white lips they have in majora's mask so my main goal was for him to just seem more animalistic and non-human

i also added lighter color around his nose area to suggest age similar to a dog

nothing else changes other than that

#tloz #pumpkinsouppe #oot #the legend of zelda #ocarina of time #legend of zelda #zelda #princess zelda #zelda ocarina of time #zelda oot #ruto #ruto oot #nabooru #nabooru oot #rauru #rauru oot #saria #saria oot #darunia #darunia oot #impa #impa oot

[gotstabbedbyapen]

Headcanons for Hera’s relationships and dynamics with the second gen Olympians?

Sure thing! There are some HCs where Hera might be painted in a bad light, but rest assured that I have no ill-thought of her. They are simply how I think she and some of the second-generation Olympians view each other.

Hera gets along with Athena and Persephone the most. Not only because these two were born before her marriage to Zeus so she doesn't hate them, but they also hold positions that can be near or equal to her (Athena is the unofficial heir and Persephone is Queen of the Underworld)

Hera and Athena have no problem becoming allies in the Trojan War. If it weren't for Zeus' No Intervention policy, Hera's power and Athena's wisdom combined would make the Greeks win easily.

They also watched over Jason and the Argonauts together, helping them in every way in their journey. But in the end, Athena had to talk Hera out of her fury when Jason cheated on his wife so the Queen wouldn't smite Jason herself.

Hera was Persephone's mentor, teaching her about queenship. Girl was a farmer goddess one day and suddenly became a queen in the next so she had no idea how to be royalty. Hera had to guide her step by step in how to run a kingdom.

Hera was extremely pissed at Hades for abducting Persephone. Sure, their marriage was legit according to law, but she was angry at him as a protector of women.

The only thing more complicated than topology mathematics is Hera and Ares' relationship.

Ares' loyalty to his mother was predominant, but not unchallenged. The two most significant times Ares actively defied Hera were engaging in adultery with Aphrodite and supported the Trojans. Hera was seething when her son was against her, but also heart-broken.

Hera loves Ares and expects a lot from him, but her son is like a reflection of her and Zeus' darker side. Seeing his rage in the battlefield reminds Hera of her own wrathfulness that she doesn't like to admit.

But that doesn't mean Hera have nothing to be proud of with her son. Ares never settled down in marriage, but he is respectful of his lovers and holds all of his children dear. Hera finds condolence that despite her never being the best mother, Ares doesn't pass down the generational trauma.

Hera and Hephaestus' relationship isn't as complicated... but it runs cold. Aside from Hephaestus' revenge on Hera with a magic throne and Hera approved Hephaestus' divorce with Aphrodite, they didn't talk much anymore.

Although Hera had stopped persecuting Artemis and Apollo since they'd became Olympians, she still jabbed them every once in a while. The twins will ignore most of the time until she mentions Leto.

Hera hated how Zeus spoiled Artemis and let her get away with things. She deemed his favoritism will make Artemis disrespect the law and cause more ruckus.

If Zeus couldn't do it, then as the head matriarch, Hera would be the one keep the wild girl Artemis in line. The Trojan War thing is an example.

The first major milestone for Hera and Apollo's relationship improvement is when they eat one peaceful lettuce meal together. No jabbing, no snarking, just crunching lettuce. It was then Hera found Apollo's presence to be more tolerable.

When Hebe was born, the Olympians who had tensed relationship with Hera took it as a chance to make peace with her by providing magnificent gifts for the girl.

I assume Hebe cried a lot when she was born, and she suddenly won't stop crying during her presenting party. When the other gods failed to calm her down with their gifts, Apollo soothed Hebe with his music. This earned him the true respect of Hera.

Although Hera is more accepting toward Hermes than Zeus' other illegitimate children, she still side-glanced him for dating Iris, her handmaiden.

Dionysus had to run away from Hera most of his childhood. When Dionysus became an Olympian, Hera ceased fire like with the twins, but peace wasn't truly restored until much later.

When Dionysus married Ariadne, Hera finally softened when she saw how much he loved and upheld his wife. Just be loyal to your spouse and the Queen of Olympus will spare you.

#hera #athena #persephone #artemis #apollo #ares #hephaestus #hermes #dionysus #the twelve olympians #headcanons #ask me anything #tumblr ask #anon ask

[lilies-n-slander]

just my unstructured thoughts on “complicated and sad”

I’m not huge on radiostatic and haven’t thought about the dynamic as much as other people so probably I’ll be retreading common ground

radiostatic friendship had to have broken up for smth more ideological, it would honestly be a bit boring/disappointing if it was just over the unrequited romance aspect (but it was likely a contributing factor)

the fact that vox asked alastor to join his team gives a few clues

I think atp vox still thought positively of alastor while alastor’s opinion of vox was starting to deteriorate. Vox respected alastor enough to *ask* him to join, rather than manipulate or try to force him

if that’s the case, then whatever vox did that alastor hated likely wasn’t malicious (but knowing vox, it was still a bad/harmful thing)

it seems like the kind of situation where alastor showed discomfort and vox refused to change and didn’t understand what he was so mad about

what could vox have done that alastor disliked so much that it ruined a previously good friendship?

using people? Alastor does that

owning souls? Alastor does that

killing people? Alastor does that

associating with and enabling ppl like val? Maybe? It seems like an arbitrary line to draw, altho one of the comics shows alastor killing an attempted rapist

influencing people’s perception of them through media? Alastor does that, but maybe it was the difference of method that he didn’t like (hypnosis vs charisma)

being fake? Alastor does that but is better at it than vox (smiling to hide weakness)

being weak*? (*not just physically) Now we’re talking. Alastor hates weakness, both in other people and himself. He hates when people let their composure slip and tries to exploit any weakness he sees. Maybe it disgusted him to see someone he thought was strong actually prove to be weak, insecure, and pathetic

a combination of the last three seems the most plausible to me (especially considering what things alastor disses vox for in stayed gone), but I’m still struggling to come up with something that has the right amount of “oomph” to it

I’m curious what alastor initially liked about vox in the first place?

did he only like him bc he thought vox was stronger than he actually was?

has vox just changed so much over the years that the vox alastor formed a friendship with was basically a different person? That would make me curious about what sparked that change in vox—was it a particular incident or gradual corruption?

does alastor hate modernity because of vox or does he hate vox because of his modernity?

leaning twds the former, the way alastor speaks abt tech has a personal tinge to it

most of vox’s hostility twds alastor is prob due to what alastor did as rejection

supported by vox not having much variety of his insults in stayed gone

yes he’s pathetic and might be salty that he doesn’t return his feelings, but I feel like that’s not the whole explanation

does “I thought he was gone *for good* too” imply that alastor has previously disappeared or been shooed away by the vees and came back soon after?

“he owes us a lot more than money” + “things have changed a lot since he left town… …I gotta send a message of who’s really in charge of things now” = before he disappeared, alastor was previously in control, possibly by sabotaging the vees and overthrowing them?

I didn’t rlly mention “still pissed he almost beat you that time?” bc that had to have been after the fallout, so not as much to dig into there (this isn’t to say that I don’t desperately want a flashback of it lol)

hmmmmmmmnfgh… so many questions

I really hope their backstory has already been mostly planned out, bc it seems like something that would go poorly if you just made it up on the fly

#hazbin hotel #vox #alastor #onewaybroadcast #.txt #meta

[cannibalsforbreakfast]

Cruel Summer - Chapter 1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: The "Eddie Munson is a speedway racer" high school AU no one asked for, but you're getting it anyways. Enemies to friends to lovers | No-Upsidedown AU | Fast cars, fast times | Reader moved from "the city" to Hawkins

Tags [will be updated as things progress]: swearing, underage drinking, dangerous driving, Jason sucks as usual, mentions of weed, light angst, misunderstandings, reader is afab, not sure if I'll have smut yet or not

A/N: Chapter 1 is already on Ao3 but here's the Tumblr version! New chapters will always be posted on Ao3 first, with a week or so delay to here.

CH1: 3,780w

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“Hot summer streets and the pavements are burning, I sit around / Trying to smile, but the air is so heavy and dry”

If anyone had asked, you wouldn’t have said car racing was something you’d be interested in. Watching hunks of metal speeding around in circles always seemed pretty pointless to you. When combined with the auditory chaos of engines and screaming crowds, and nauseating smell of gasoline and burning rubber, it had never been high on your bucket list.

Then again, neither had moving to Hawkins, Indiana. And yet, here you were: stuck in small-town nowhere for (just, you hoped) the summer. But a summer practically felt like forever to you.

And so you were at the speedway car races with your cousin, Robin. Because apparently, she said, it would “be fun” and “social” and “lots of people went.” 

You supposed you should be lucky Robin was pretty chill about hanging out with you. After all, having your city-slicker cousin practically dumped on your doorstep without so much as a “by your leave” by your parents — who had gone off to “rediscover themselves” and hopefully salvage five years of impending divorce — probably wasn’t high on HER bucket list, either. She and her parents had been more than welcoming, sticking you and your five overstuffed suitcases in the spare room on the second floor, just next door to Robin, without hesitation and urging you to make yourself at home.

If you saw Robin and her parents exchange some pointed and pitying glances, well, you’d just try and ignore them. Because they were right. Your parents clearly didn’t care enough about you to take you with them on their wild second-honeymoon or whatever, so they’d abandoned you without looking back, saying they’d pick you up in a couple months before school started up again. They thought. Maybe homeschooling had been implied as a possibility if they happened to return a bit later than assumed from…Panama? Costa Rica? Whatever warm, probably tropical, place they’d gone to. Without their only daughter. 

Honestly, sometimes you just felt the truth of it in your bones when, at the height of their marital Cold War, they’d each called the other some variant of “frigid bitch.” Only the coldest of the cold would up and abandon their offspring like that, without any evident desire to really take responsibility for them ever again. If you just wandered off at the end of the summer, got a job waiting tables in the nearest big city, didn’t bother to send a forwarding address, you didn’t think they’d be too fussed. Depressing.

The frozen atmosphere at home had gone on so long, you’d practically adopted aloofness yourself as a survival mode. What you didn’t feel, couldn’t hurt. Didn’t help you with making any friends once you’d entered high school, but it kept anyone from really bothering you for three years. The summer before your senior year was supposed to be this golden eternity of afternoons at the pool, perfecting your tan, or giggling at the local mall while licking ice creams and debating who-liked-who-liked-who. 

Not wasting away in Hawkins, a town small enough you bet you could count all of the stoplights on one hand. 

You missed the city so much it ached . Missed the dizzying heights of the buildings towering above you, missed the way the very air seemed to thrum with an energy, a beat that got into your pulse and made you feel alive. Missed the hole-in-the-wall restaurants on every street and the used bookstores piled high with more volumes than you could read in a lifetime. Hawkins was…quaint, but inside you worried if you stayed here long enough it would drain the life out of you until you couldn’t make it anywhere else. 

Not that you’d say any of that to Robin, who was babbling cheerfully away at your side as you strolled up to the local speedway just out of town. She was wearing a loose striped men’s shirt with the cuffs rolled up and jeans, despite the lingering heat of the evening. Robin, you’d come to learn, was pretty much always babbling about something or another, a natural condition that tended to get even worse whenever she was flustered or nervous. Given your tendency to listen, rather than speak, you actually balanced each other out rather well. With her, surprisingly, you felt you could be…yourself…that little bit more. Felt a bit of that icy shell melt away. 

You tuned back in to hear her say, “We’re going to meet up with Steve, he’s gotten there early to stake us out a spot. You wouldn’t think it but it can get really crowded and picking the right spot out of the sun and the dust and on the right side of the track is, like, crucial to the enjoyment factor. Steve’s a boy, by the way. He’s not my boyfriend – well, he’s a boy who’s a friend, but we’re not like that, actually he’s more like an annoying brother. But he’s not annoying, I promise!”

You smiled to yourself as Robin rambled on. Truly, you found it more endearing than not. 

“I’m sure he’s nice,” you said, cutting in so Robin could actually take a full breath. She smiled back at you.

“Yeah, he’s great. But don’t tell him I said that, I swear his hair grows an inch every time someone says something nice about him.”

You smiled and promised that, of course, you wouldn’t breathe a word. 

The two of you step up to the bored-looking teenager taking tickets, and you passed over your paper stub, slightly sweaty from being clutched in your hand. Stepping through the entrance gate, you’re immediately assaulted with the smell of deep-fried foods mixed with beer, the raucous laughter of crowds of families and teens here for an evening out. A fine dust permeated the air, making your eyes water. The track, a packed dirt oval that was both bigger and smaller than you imagined, spread out before you, bordered by some haphazardly stacked rectangle bales of hay you assumed were there for the “safety” of the crowd, though they looked anything but. You imagined any car crashing into those at serious speed would take them out easily…as well as the onlookers setting up their camp chairs frighteningly close to the barrier. 

Across the track, a small elevated building rigged with wires and a mounted loudspeaker was clearly where the announcers were situated. Tinny commentary was blaring from the PA system, but it was almost impossible to hear above the general din. 

There were mullets and wife-beaters on display everywhere. As you looked around, you noted that everyone – and you mean everyone – seemed to be dressed in nothing more formal than jeans and a shirt. You hadn’t batted an eye when Robin left the house like that, because that’s what your cousin always wore. And she’d told you to dress casual but…

“Robin,” you asked, “am I overdressed?”

She’d been herding you along the track toward one end, but at your question she glanced over at you and winced, which you supposed was answer enough. 

“Robinnnnn,” you whined. 

“What?” she protested. “I said ‘casual,’ that’s what you came out in, so I figured it was fine!”

Up until you saw the sea of daisy dukes before you, you’d thought what you were wearing was casual. It certainly was back in the city. The simple, white-and-red polkadot dress you were wearing, cinched at the waist with a plain wide belt you’d dug out the bottom of your suitcase, cute frilly sleeves sitting just below your tanned shoulders, wouldn’t have been anything your classmates back home blinked at. You hadn’t even done your makeup, besides a swipe of lip gloss! But you were rapidly getting the sense you’d have to redefine your expectations here in Hawkins. And with the swirls of rust-colored dust almost constantly permeating the air, you could already tell white was a particularly bad choice.

Oh well, you’d just have to make the best of it. And get the dress in the wash sooner rather than later. 

“It’s alright, Robin,” you reassured your cousin, who’d been worrying at her lip while you thought. “It’s just a dress. Plus, it’s not like I’ll be in any of the cars,” you joked.

“Steve’ll probably have a blanket or something you can use anyways,” she said. “He’s a dad like that. Oh look, there he is. Steve! Steeeeve! Ugh, he isn’t listening. OI, DINGUS!”

Robin waved frantically at a boy a bit ahead of you, who’d staked out a pretty prime spot on the hillside around the middle of the straightaway, complete with camping chairs, picnic blanket and cooler of what you desperately hoped was something cold. Now this is what you’d imagined when Robin said “races.” And it was comfortingly far away from the hay barrier.

The boy – Steve – raked his hands through his already artfully disheveled mop of hair and rolled his eyes at Robin. 

“Could you shout any louder?” he grumbled. “Jesus, I think the whole crowd heard you.”

“Oh don’t be such a wuss. Hey, this is my cousin. She’s cool. Cousin, meet Steve. He’s a dweeb.”

“A dweeb with charm, also known as the best kind,” Steve said with a smile, reaching out to shake your hand. “I heard you’re in town for the summer. Welcome to Hawkins – guessing it’s a pretty big change from where you’re from.”

“Um, yeah, wasn’t sure what to expect, but it’s better than I thought. Lots of nice people,” you offered him a small smile in return, a bit taken aback by the easy way he folded you into the dynamic. 

“I’ll bet,” he agreed. “First time at a speedway?”

“First time at any kind of races,” you admitted. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Not much too it really,” Robin said around a mouthful of beer. Clearly, she’d helped herself to Steve’s stash, but by the way he just shook his head, you got the sense this was basically normal. He silently offered you a bottle, but you shook your head – maybe in a bit. Steve did seem nice, but you weren’t quite ready to be under the influence under someone new just yet. Robin kept talking: “Cars go zoom zoom, and the one that goes zoom zoom the fastest wins. We mostly just come here to support Eddie.”

You cocked your head. “Who’s Eddie?”

“Friend from school. He’s been working extra shifts all summer, which is why you haven’t met him yet. He works down at the local body shop, races on the side. We’ll point his car out when he’s up.”

You nodded, sure he’d be nice too, if Robin’s taste in friends so far was anything to go by. 

The three of you sat, chatting amiably for a few minutes, and you felt yourself relaxing into Robin and Steve’s easy, familiar banter. They traded well-worn jabs back and forth, but there’s no heat behind them. You settled yourself on the blanket between them, tucking your skirt beneath your legs and mostly enjoying the vibe, only chiming in when you had something to say, like when Steve started to say “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” was supposedly underrated (he was wrong, and both you and Robin soundly told him so). 

As the sun finally started to go down – days were still long and hot, and all three of you were peevishly slapping at overly familiar mosquitos – the track lights finally flickered into life and it seemed like things were about to start. Robin let out a squeal, wiggling her knees in excitement. 

You were all ready for – you didn’t know, monster trucks or something? – when, to your surprise, the first line of cars that raced onto the track looked more like glorified go karts than anything else. Seeing your confusion, Steve leaned over and murmured, “They do the kiddie stuff first,” and you then saw that the drivers did seem awfully young. Fortunately they were wearing helmets.

The announcer counted down the start, and at the waving of the first green flag they tore around the track, kicking up immense clouds of gasoline-scented dust that settled over everything – your hair, your clothes, you could even see it coating the fine hairs on your arm. Gross. 

And these little kids were vicious. Not crashing directly into each other, but drifting aggressively around the turns and cutting each other off within what looked like inches to spare between bumpers. Everyone was cheering on individual numbers, and you, Steve and Robin got into it by picking your favorite car and rooting for them at the top of your lungs. After a few heats you felt your throat dry up, and gratefully accepted one of the cooling bottles of beer Steve offered. 

Beer with friends on a Friday night. Weirdly, this felt more like how you thought summer was supposed to go than you figured you’d get in Hawkins. Or anywhere. 

As the night wore on, the races of the small and mid-sized cars started to blur into each other, and you started idly wondering when you’d be able to go home. Well. To Robin’s home. 

“And nowwwww, the event you’ve all been waiting forrrrr!” shrilled the announcer.

From the back paddock where all the cars were parked, there came a grunty rumble. A vibration that made its way into your bones, your veins, the thump-thump of your heart. This was the rhythm you’d been missing, filling you up from the inside out. 

And then, the first line of proper-sized cars ripped their way onto the track, to a massive cheer from the crowd. But you weren’t even sure you could call them “cars.” Dinged, dented, and beaten back into shape, these were machines reduced to the essence of speed. Any extra baggage had clearly been ripped out – seats, radio, even the entire bottom half of the trunk was gone. What was left was the engines, the driver’s seat, and anything essential to make them go. 

They ran a few menacing laps around the track, jostling for position on the grid. 

“Look, there’s Eddie!” Robin pointed.

“Which one is he?” you asked.

“The black one, with the red bat on the hood.”

“Eddie’s always had a flair for the dramatic,” Steve clarified. 

Your eyes traced the black car as Eddie maneuvered it into the inside of the track, on the front row – “That’s a good position,” Steve clarified again. Unlike most of the other cars, which had paint jobs in varying states of peeling off, Eddie clearly kept his car freshly painted despite the risk of damage – it gleamed, pitch blank, with just the blood red of the bat leaping out of the design. From what you could see of Eddie, as he was mostly shielded by a helmet, he was also in all black. 

“I’m sensing a theme,” you muttered dryly. 

Like horses jostling for position, the cars – there must have been a dozen or so – revved their engines just behind the starting line. There was an agonizing moment of tension, where everyone stared at the red stoplight holding them in place. 

Then it winked green, the flag was waved, and the race began. 

You watched as Eddie’s car and the one on his right, painted a chipped red-white-and-blue roared to the front like bats of out hell. They gunned it down the straightaway before whipping into a drift around the curve that was so aggressive, their cars yawing onto two wheels so hard, your hands flew to your mouth to swallow a gasp despite yourself, sure they’d tip over or spin out. Magically Eddie’s car righted itself as he came out of the turn and he gunned it down the next straight, neck and neck with the other vehicle. 

The laps went by in what felt to you like seconds, a frenetic dance conducted at speed. With the razor-thin margins the two cars took the turns, you knew that if Eddie lost concentration for a nanosecond, he’d be out of the race. You blinked dust out of your eyes furiously, loath to miss a single second. Next to you, Robin and Steve were yelling – you were pretty sure Robin was just repeating profanities at this point – but you could hardly make yourself breathe normally, let alone cheer. 

There were only a few laps to go and the other car had stolen the lead from Eddie. Though Eddie was keeping the black monstrosity right on his tail, pushing himself right into the rear bumper to try and throw the other driver off. 

They made another sharp drift around a corner and, as they came off the curve, Eddie made his move, pushing the throttle to take his car around the outside of the red-and-white leader. He took the turn, hard, trying to get his nose in front of the other car’s, and this time you did let out a whimper of concern. Your heart thumped in time with the roar of the crowd, and when Eddie made it, slipping in front of his rival to cross the finish line first, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief. 

Steve and Robin were now jumping up and down and hugging each other, and you smiled at their infectious joy. 

The other cars coasted to a stop in the middle of the track while Eddie took his victory lap, waving the checkered flag from out the driver’s window. He must have spotted the two maniacs next to you, because the car rolled to a stop on the track in front of you, and Eddie stepped out from the car. 

You knew he drove like a devil, but you weren’t expecting him to look like a fallen angel. 

A strange shiver ran through you as you watched him pull off his black helmet. Long, dark curls spilled out, framing his sharp, sculpted face. Even with his bangs sweat-soaked and disheveled, he was capital H-O-T. Dark hair, dark eyes, with a plush mouth you knew was made for sin. He was everything your parents would have warned you away from, and everything you – or your body, at least – immediately wanted. 

“Be normal,” you thought to yourself. “This is Robin’s friend .”

Robin and Steve trotted down to the side of the track, and you trailed behind them, a little unsure. It was the last race of the evening, and with the entertainment over, the crowds were starting to melt away. It didn’t escape your notice that while all the other drivers were getting handshakes and back-slaps galore from their fellow racers and even some officials, no one had come over to congratulate the actual winner, Eddie, except for the three of you.

“Edieeeeee, you won!” Robin shrieked at her usual top-volume. “But also, ugh, you smell like fumes, ew no, don’t hug me.” She wiggled away from his playful attempt at a hug, wrinkling your nose. 

“Comes with the territory, Robin, you’re just gonna have to get used to it. You certainly don’t mind when I’m fixing your car for free, again . Hey, Steve, nice of the King to make an appearance.” The two boys traded fist bumps, Steve rolling his eyes at his high school nickname. You broke into a wide smile at their antics. 

Eddie’s eyes met yours, where you lingered behind, and he arched one eyebrow, his previously warm and open expression becoming more guarded, scanning you from the top of your windswept hair to the bottom of your now quite dusty flats. Your smile faded, and you resisted the urge to brush yourself off in the face of his gaze.

“Who’s this?” he asked. “Wasn’t aware we had a third cheerleader on the squad. Does little miss Dots like what she has to see so far?”

You find yourself bristling at his presumptuous tone. “I don’t quite take your meaning,” you respond stiffly. 

Eddie laughed, an open, easy sound you could have loved – except for the sharp edge to his voice. He straddled the hay bale, spreading his hands open. You tried not to look at how his black racing uniform stretched tight over his thighs. Really, you tried. 

“Come on, guys, this is a joke, right? Ha, ha, Eddie’s first race of the season, let’s get a cute little cupcake of a girl to come along, flirt a little, string lil ’ol Eddie along? Give the girl a ride to remember?”

He fixed his molten brown eyes on you. “Did someone put you up to it, Dots? Patrick? Jason? It’s the sort of shit thing Jason would do.”

By this point, both Steve and Robin were exchanging a confused glance that clearly conveyed their shared sense of, “uh, what?” But you knew exactly what. 

Eddie had taken one look at you – at your too-much dress, too-much smile, maybe something else you didn’t even know in your demeanor – and concluded that the only possible explanation for your presence was that you were a…paid escort? Hooker? Someone bribed to come watch his race and flutter your eyelashes at him, spread her legs?

You felt the usual protection of your ice queen reputation from back home freezing off any earlier warmth from your expression. 

“Someone clearly has a high opinion of himself. I’m not going to cream just because you’ve got half skills with half a car. Get over yourself. Robin,” you turn to your cousin, “I’m going back to the house.”

“It’s miles to the house,” Robin protested, nervous gaze flicking between you – fuming – and Eddie – nonchalantly picking at his cuticles, not sparing you another glance. 

“I’ll walk.” It was only a mile or so to Robin’s, and you didn’t want to spend a single second more in his company, friends with your cousin or not. Eddie’d done a spectacular job of reminding you why you usually didn’t do things that were “fun” or “social” or that “lots of people” went to. You didn’t need another asshole man in your life, your father was doing a bang-up job of that by himself. 

“I’d give you a ride, Dots, but as you can see,” Eddie gestured to the literally empty passenger seat in the stock car next to him, “I can’t.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed, whirling around and stomping off before reaching a hand up to swipe angrily at the tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. 

You heard Robin run after you. “She’s my cousin you MORON,” she called back to Eddie. When she caught up to you, you gave her a watery smile in thanks, and she reached over to squeeze your shoulders. 

New item for your summer bucket list: Never, ever see Eddie again.

-- -- --

NEXT TIME: You and Robin go to a party.

#cruel summer #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #fanfic #fanfiction #eddie munson fic #enemies to friends to lovers #speedway au

[sequinsmile-x]

Fallacy

He loved her laugh, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever someone else drew it out of her, especially when that person happened to be a handsome cop. He knows he had no right to feel this way, that she was his friend and nothing more, but it makes fury he knows she doesn’t deserve burn in his veins.

Aaron gets jealous when a local cop flirts with Emily, and his reaction changes their relationship forever.

-x-

Hi friends,

It's been a little while since I wrote a getting together fic or jealous Aaron, so iI thought I'd combine them together for you <3

As always, please let me know what you think! -x-

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: none

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He loved her laugh. 

It was loud. Bright. Beautiful. Something that never failed to make his day when he heard it, always drawing him out of whatever situation he was in, providing momentary relief before reality kicked back in. 

Aaron remembered the first time he’d heard it, how she’d clearly tried to keep it stuck in her chest as she watched Derek and Spencer wage a prank war against each other across their desks. She’d been stuck in the middle of it, still new to the team and unsure of her place in it, ducking down as something flew from Spencer’s desk to Derek’s. It was her laugh that had dragged his attention to what was going on, pulled him out of his seat as he stepped out of his office to see what his team was doing. Her eyes had gone wide as if she’d been caught out misbehaving by a teacher, her laugh dying in her throat as she looked down at her desk. 

He still hadn’t trusted her, still unsure what her intentions were, but for a reason he didn’t understand at the time, that moment had been the first chink in his armour. It was the first of many. Emily seemed to wear him down without meaning to, her smile and laugh and her kindness so natural to her that he knew she was not doing it intentionally. He often found himself having to hide the fact she made him smile just by being her. She’d not only destroyed his armour, but crawled under his skin. She made him feel things he knew he shouldn’t - especially back when he’d still been married to Haley. 

Somewhere along the way, Emily became his best friend. 

She’d helped hold him together after Haley’s death. She’d been there with food most evenings. She’d brought over new clothes for Jack as he grew too fast for Aaron to keep up with. She gave them her time, sat with them and encouraged them to carry on living in the moments when it felt the most impossible. When he looked back on it, he thinks that was when he started to fall in love with her. 

At first, he thought it was borne out of proximity. A natural reaction to the kindness she’d shown him and his son, but he quickly learnt it was more than that. He looked for her in every room. Sought her out whenever she was nearby, and he wanted more. He wanted to be with her, to know how it felt to sleep curled up around her in bed. To know how it felt to kiss her, to know if it was even more than he’d built it up to be in his head. 

There was one evening, just before Ian Doyle tore through their lives, when he’d been home late from the office. Emily had offered to look after Jack and the little boy and encouraged it, his love of Emily well known. When Aaron got home he heard them laughing together, the sound drawing him towards Jack’s bedroom. He found them curled up on Jack’s bed, the little boy leant against her as she read him his favourite book. 

He’d almost asked her out that night, his heart hammering in his chest as she smiled at him and took a glass of wine from him after she’d snuck out of Jack’s room once the little boy was asleep. Aaron couldn’t say why he’d backed out, his nerves getting the better of him, a voice in the back of his head that sounded remarkably like his father telling him that he wasn’t good enough for her. That she could do better. 

It was something that only seemed to be confirmed when she started to pull away from him and Jack in the weeks that followed. He now knew it was an attempt to protect him and his son, that she feared more than anything that Ian would figure out how important they’d become to her, but at the time he was sure it was her way of letting him down gently because she’d figured him out. 

When she was in Paris he missed her more than he thought he would. He still looked for her in every room. Still sought her out. But she wasn’t there. He missed her laugh, her smile. The way she made him feel. He’d sit by her grave for hours some days even though he knew it was empty, idly hoping that he’d feel close to her. That he’d find some kind of peace he always felt when he visited Haley. He repeatedly told himself that when Emily came back, if not even an option he could consider, he’d ask her out. He’d kiss her and find it in himself to be as brave as she always was. 

Then she came back and she was different, a ghost of herself as if she really had died on that cold floor in Boston. He watches as she tries to make everyone else feel better, as she tries to be the person she used to be because that’s what they wanted, and he promises himself he won’t expect that of her too. He’s content to be her friend, to be the person she opens up to after he gently convinces her to start taking therapy seriously, and ultimately he knows he’d just be her friend forever if it meant she was happy. 

He tenses as she laughs, the sound travelling across the precinct they were in, and he clenches his teeth as he packs the case files away in his briefcase. He looks up and sees her standing a few paces away from one of the cops who’d been flirting with her since they’d arrived to help with the case they’d just closed. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she laughs, her lips pressed together as she nods at whatever is being said to her. 

He loved her laugh, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever someone else drew it out of her, especially when that person happened to be a handsome cop. He knows he had no right to feel this way, that she was his friend and nothing more, but it makes fury he knows she doesn’t deserve burn in his veins, chased by the love he endlessly felt for her. He reminds himself that she is the most important part in all of this, a mantra he repeats to himself as he feels himself calm down, his shoulders loosening slightly as she walks closer to him, the cop still by her side. 

Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful that it was a local case, wanting nothing more than to simply go home and pretend he hadn’t just watched someone flirt with the woman he loves all day. 

“How about it Agent Prentiss?” The police officer says, his eyebrow raised as they come to a stop just a few paces away from him, “If we’re done here, I can take you out to that dinner you still haven’t agreed to.” 

Emily chuckles, a quick smile flitting across her face as she clears her throat, and she starts to respond but Aaron cuts her off. The fury he’d barely tampered down returning with a vengeance, bursting out of him before he can stop it. 

“If you’re done flirting, Agent Prentiss, it’s time we left,” he says through gritted teeth. He realises he’s shown his hand the second she turns to look at him, the way her eyes briefly widen, a frown painted across her because of how he’s spoken to her, hurt flashing in her eyes. He tenses, his jaw tight as he picks up his briefcase and starts to walk away as if he hadn’t spoken, “I’ll see you back at the office.”

He pretends he doesn’t feel her gaze on his back as he leaves, her concern and confusion burning through his clothes and scraping at his skin.

___

She feels unsettled. 

The moment she got back to her apartment she started the routine she’d come up with years ago that helped her decompress after a hard day. She immediately threw her hair into a loose bun and ran a bath, the water so hot she hissed as it touched her skin, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air as she settled into it. Once she’d climbed out of the bath, baby hairs curling at the top of her neck, she’d changed into her comfiest sweats and she ordered in her favourite comfort food, settling on the couch with it when it arrived. She still feels unsettled even when Sergio joins her, his head butting against her hand the moment she’s finished eating. 

Emily sighs and scratches his head, “Men are so stupid sometimes, Serg,” she says, smiling when he settles into her lap, “No offence.” 

She was worried about Aaron. It was unlike him to snap at her like he had. It hadn’t happened in years, since he didn’t trust her or her intentions, and she hated it. Hated the reminder of what it felt like before he became one of the most important people in her life. 

Before she knew how it felt to be in love with him. 

It had happened slowly, sneaking up on her until it pulled her under, a moment of painful clarity when he was missing after Foyet had attacked him. The relief she’d felt when she found him in the hospital was short-lived when he had to send away Jack and Haley. She’d eventually gone home that evening when he asked her to, her heart heavy as she could suddenly name the feeling she’d harboured for him for months. The love she felt suddenly so much a part of her it was suffocating, something she had to get used to breathing around, a part of her chest that she didn’t know was hollow full of him and his little boy. 

She did all she could to be there for them after Haley died. She put all of her love into grilled cheese sandwiches and dinosaur-covered t-shirts that saw in the store that made her think of Jack. She loved them from a distance even though they were right there, well aware it was not the right time to love them the way she wanted to. Just as things were starting to look up, just as she thought he was about to ask her out, the look in his eyes undeniable, Ian came out of the shadows. 

She thought of Aaron and Jack constantly when she was in Paris, thought of them every time she heard a child laugh or saw a family. She’d close her eyes and think of having them there with her, of showing them the streets she’d fallen in love with when she was a child herself, the memories that were now tainted by the time she’d spent there recovering. When she got home, Aaron was right there. He was next to her, he was her best friend, but she worried that the chance for more had passed them by. That it had become yet another almost in her life, something she’d missed out on as penance for her past decisions. 

She kept trying to figure out what happened. How she’d gone from politely nodding and laughing at whatever the cop flirting with her was saying as she tried to sneak glances at Aaron when he wasn’t looking, to him snapping at her. She’d tried to ask him, but he wouldn’t talk to her about it, wouldn’t even look at her as she followed him out of the precinct they’d been working in for a few days. 

She blows out a breath and shakes her head, scratching behind Sergio’s ears one more time before she stands up, determined to get a glass of wine. She pauses as she reaches for the fridge door, her eyes fixed on a drawing Jack had done for her, it’s bright, crudely drawn, figures standing out against the general aesthetic of her apartment.  He’d told her that the three people in the middle of the drawing were her, him and Aaron, his smile wide and proud as she took it and said she’d put it on her fridge. 

It was like a snapshot of a reality she didn’t have. A taster of a life she could have with them if she actually did something about it. Images of a home they shared scattered with drawings from him and children who were half her and half Aaron, their faces slightly out of focus.

She closes her eyes and looks down at the floor for a moment, weighing up her options. She could stay here, have a glass of wine and snuggle up with Sergio, or she could go check on Aaron. She looks at the picture on the fridge door again and nods, the decision made in an instant as she grabs her phone from the counter and heads towards the front door. As she’s slipping on her shoes she hears Sergio meow, she huffs out a laugh as she stands up straight again, grabbing her keys from the side.

“Sorry, Serg,” she says, bending down as he runs over to scratch his head, smiling softly before she leaves the apartment, her voice soft as she talks to herself, “I’ve got to go check on the other guy in my life.” 

___

Aaron groans when he hears the knock on his door.

He shakes his head, his plan for an evening alone gone. He frowns as he looks through the peephole and sees Emily. He pauses for a moment before he opens the door, the guilt he’d been pushing down all evening working its way back up his throat, the way he’d spoken to her making his stomach churn. 

“Emily-” he starts as he opens the door but she walks right past him, her arms crossed over her chest as she turns to look at him.

“Are you okay?” She asks, the drive to his having made her a little more antsy than she had been when she left her apartment. 

He sighs and closes the door, “I’m fine, Emily,” he says far too quickly and he turns to look at her when she laughs humourlessly, clearly not believing him. It makes irritation lick at his insides, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a date to get ready for?” 

The smile slips from her face and she frowns at the bitterness in his voice, her eyebrows furrowed as she tries to figure out what he’s talking about.

“A date? What are you…” she trails off as it hits her and she scoffs, shaking her head at him, “That cop from today?” She asks, his answer a simple averting of his gaze, his eyes fixed on her floor, “Aaron, I never agreed to go on a date with him.” 

He looks up sharply, his eyes meeting hers as the fight drains out of him. He swallows thickly, treacherous hope sparking in his chest, “Wh…what?” 

She watches him carefully, her hands on her hips as she looks him up and down, sees a sense of uncertainty wash over him that she’d never seen on him before. He was usually so confident, self-assured in a way that she found endlessly attractive. It takes her a moment for her to realise that she’s the one who’s done this to him, that the thought of her going on a date with someone else had reduced him to this. She chokes out a laugh and shakes her head, stepping closer to him, pushed forward by confidence she knew would be fleeting. It had passed her by so many times before, he had passed her by, and she wasn’t going to let it happen this time. 

She feels her resolve snap. A delicate thread that had been fraying for longer than she cared to admit giving way under the weight of everything she felt for him, the love she could no longer ignore. 

“God, you’re such an idiot,” she says, closing the gap between them, her lips pressed firmly against his before he can respond. 

It takes him a second to respond, one of the longest of her life, but then his hands are on her back, pulling her impossibly closer as he kisses her back just as intensely.

It’s new, unexplored territory as it answers questions they’d both had for years, her tongue licking across the seam of his lips before he opens them, the sigh that passes from her mouth to his reward. It somehow feels like coming home, like what they’d both been walking towards for years, a familiarity about it that feels perfect, as if they’d been made for each other. 

He pulls back when the need for air becomes too much, dizzy on her and the lack of oxygen as he rests his forehead against hers, “Emily…”

“If it isn’t clear,” she says, her chest heaving up and down as she looks at him, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “You’re the only person I want to go on a date with.” 

He swallows thickly, “You…you never said anything.” 

She smiles, cupping the back of his head and stamping her lips against his again, chasing the taste of him, her new addiction she knows she’ll never have enough of, “Neither did you.” 

“The timing never felt right,” he says, the words sounding lame even to his ears, and she chuckles at him, “I didn’t…” he clears his throat and rests his forehead against hers, “Never in a million years did I think you’d want me back. You could have anyone you wanted.” 

It makes her ache, his self-depreciation something she’ll file away for later, something she’ll prove to him again and again is misplaced until he believes her. 

“I want you,” she says, pushing his hair away from his forehead, “I have done for a long time.” 

He sighs, all the missed opportunities, the time they’d lost weighing heavily on his shoulders for a moment. He shakes it off, lets himself feel the way she’s pressed up against him, how her breath skips across his face. 

“We have a lot to talk about,” he says quietly, skating his hand up and down her back, “You could never be…”

He drifts off, unsure how to say it, how to tell the woman he’s in love with, the woman he’s kissed twice, how he feels about her. She smiles at him, understanding he’d lived most of his life without shining at him as she nods. 

“I know,” she says, “You’re very important to me too.” 

It’s not what she wants to say, not by a long shot, but it will do for now. He kisses her, the first of many he knows that he’ll initiate, and he pulls her into a hug, his chin on top of her head as she snuggles into his chest. 

“Will you stay tonight?” He asks, and she pulls back, her eyebrow raised as he realises how it sounded, “Not like that. I just mean-”

“Of course I’ll stay,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder, sighing as she sinks into his embrace, “But you’ll have to take me on a date first before I put out.” 

He laughs and she joins in, both of them hiding their joy in each other, her face against his shoulder and his against her hair, aware of Jack sleeping just down the hall even in the bubble they’d found themselves in. 

“Is tomorrow too soon?” He asks, and she tilts her head to look up at him, her cheeks going red at the intensity of his gaze, the words he hadn’t said painted all over his face. 

“For what?” 

He smiles softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes that makes her stomach flip, “For our date. We could go for dinner?” 

She grins widely and pulls him into a searing kiss, her hands still tangled in his hair when it ends. She knows it’s the only answer he needs, but she replies anyway, warm and content in his arms as she nods against him.

“It’s a date.” 

-x-

Tag List:

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#hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss #aaron x emily #hotchniss fanfiction

[historia-vitae-magistras]

A lightee ask than usual but do you have any food or eating habit thoughts?

Ooohooohh, I did a whole ass seminar on the history of food. Failed it because I almost bled to death but I got to keep all the material! I've got.... a lot of thoughts and feelings about food culture. Too goddamn many, tbh. This got really long so I'll have to do a part two for other characters if wanted but lol enjoy.

Alfred:

 —Actually pretty gourmet little shit when he's got time and effort. He's made food Maria loves so often she has to give up on pretending she didn't enjoy it because fucking hell, he makes good chilaquiles after they've been drinking and fucking. There is, however, a non-zero chance he hasn't eaten a vegetable since the Nixon administration.

 —With that combustion engine metabolism, he's also perpetually hungry, so he eats whatever is around him. His guts do not like this, especially when it's a lot of dairy.

 —He has that kind of lactose intolerance that's tied to his health and stress, so if he's been particularly freaked out lately, he'll remind the world of his nuclear arsenal when he's got to use the toilet after that triple cheeseburger with a side of deep-fried cheese curds.

 —He's a stress eater too. He eats every negative emotion he's ever had especially when he's trying not to binge drink or do drugs.

 —He’s exceptionally food-motivated. They didn’t call one of his first major historical eras ‘the starving time’ without reason. He has preferences, but food is also food, and he’ll genuinely enjoy it in most forms as long as it's not rotten or otherwise godawful. Cowboy coffee and beans for ten days straight, and he will genuinely be the only man on that cow trail not sick of it by the end.

 —This also goes into why he’s so generous with food. He’s big on homemade food. He’ll make a whole big ass batch of like some sort of mac and cheese, and all the neighbours will get a big ol’ bowl of it with an ‘oh just return the Tupperware whenever,’ and it will genuinely be one of the best things they’ve ever eaten in their lives. Europeans recoil in horror, but our portion sizes are almost never single servings. It’s a generosity and hospitality practice except drinks. He really will down like a 2 liter of Slurpee in a single sitting.

 —He doesn’t mind eating alone. Actually prefers it sometimes. He loves eating in his car. American frontier culture, especially mountain men, had an often hyper-individualized, almost mythic culture of spending long periods alone in the woods and not being very sociable; thus a lot of situations where single servings were a thing, eating alone in quiet without something to do can be a real goddamn luxury.

 —He’s a really big protein guy with his metabolism. Sometimes exists on protein shakes but is more often a beef or barbeque or ham or alligator jerky. And a somewhat chunky Alfred is a healthy Alfred. A perfectly cut no flab Alfred is an Alfred who might be severely dehydrated and on several kinds of uppers.

 —He has better tastes than Arthur who didn't really realize food was supposed to taste good until like ten years ago but his combinations can be equally wild and unappetizing as they are batshit tasty.

—He loves spicy food. He's got so many opinions about hot sauces.

—He’s always hungry. If he isn’t hungry or turns down food, its genuinely a bad sign. If he turns down anything or just is just picking at it his food alarm bells should be sounding. He’s either about to declare war or puke all over the table or keel over dead. Peckish or food coma is his default state. Like if he was a smaller guy someone would say he’s got a binge disorder but he’s tall and beefy so he’s pretty okay.

 —Incredibly adventurous eater too. People will assume since there’s that old school culture of Anglo-American who eats the same 7 meals every week and might keel over dead if the meatloaf is slightly different he’ll be a bit hard to please but then he’s absolutely charmed by everything from Korean kimchi to Lithuanian Lašiniai.

 —He loves anyone who feeds him, just got to be a bit careful because he’s got surprisingly delicate stomach for the world superpower.

 —That American obsession with authencity means he’s surprisingly good at remembering people’s food culture or eating norms. He figured out chopsticks in ten seconds and quickly picked up the cues and manners of eating in any given culture. Still struggles with modulating his voice and personality, so he can often come across as rude, but he's so excited to do so. It's almost frustrating how happy he is to try and adapt to people around him and how happy he can be to fit in.

Matt:

 —He's a very good cook when he's putting in effort for other people, but he's not really like Alfred, who he'll make a whole ass meal for one just to relax on a Sunday.

 —He does tend to eat more vegetables than Alfred, but only because his northern vitamin deficiency has him binging them when he can afford them or they're available during the summer.

  —He can be weirdly picky on his own, but no one ever really needs to ask about his favourite food or how he likes anything because he always just goes with the flow around other people. “Just get me whatever you’re getting.” comes out of his mouth often.

 —There's a lot of sour cream/crema and yoghurt/coconut milk involved when he eats Mexican or Indian food for as much as he loves it.

 —Katya was singlehandedly responsible for his ability to maintain a normal weight during the 20th century by adding rye bread and perogies/vyrenki to his diet. He craves mushroom-umami flavours when he misses her, which is most of the time.

 —When he’s normal and eating the Anglo-North American diet, but he isn’t always eating it, he gets some strong sugar cravings, especially when he’s west of Manitoba. He’s as fond of birch syrup as a flavour as he is maple; there’s just less production. But the kind of deprivation he got and his own tendencies to not eat sometimes cause white sugar to just straight-up burns.

 —There's very much something of François to Matt's dietary habits, but less in his personal tastes and more in that he might be more sensitive to flavours. He has that kind of discerning and slightly oversensitive palate, but he’s a shitty perpetually broke frontier settler colony. He knows better/feels too guilty/is too embarrassed of himself to really indulge it.

 —He kept too much of his peasant communalism in his eating habits. Where Anglo-American communities did have a lot of cooperation, communal eating was a special occasion. The norm was based on the individual household. In contrast, French Canadian habitants still technically lived on medieval land plots and owed labour to a lord while also having a culture of seasonal male work, so Matt grew up used to communal ovens and eating most of his meals around others. Later, in Arthur’s jurisdiction, it was usually the same. He got a plate of whatever he was given, and it wasn’t something he had ever had to initiate himself.

 —Partially, he's sometimes exceptionally bad at eating when he has to choose to do it himself. Especially since the Americanization of the food culture took hold in the '80s and '90s. Whereas Alfred is food motivated from going without when he was little, Matt learned how to block out physical sensation until he collapsed because it was rare that someone, including himself, cared about what kind of state he was in. He just doesn’t eat at all when he’s stressed or anxious. And now it's his sole responsibility to do so as there aren’t the same community structures. He has a lot of Alfred’s abundance now, all the brunch and BBQ places anyone could ask for, but it hasn’t meshed with his eating habits. His people gave up so much of their communal eating in exchange for various choices and then wondered why they were so lonely. So he’ll just microwave a potato or a packet of Kraft dinner a day for a week straight and wonder why he feels dead because, technically, he did eat something. It’s seriously a miracle he got as tall as he did.

 —Feed him nothing but hardtack for three years, and he won't complain until he's dropped dead of scurvy. If Arthur puts some sort of godforsaken mixture of plum sauce or gin-infused spag bol in front of him, he’ll compliment it before he disassociates to get at least some of it down.

#the ask box || probis pateo #hws canada #hws america #meatsack mechanics || the sociology and biology of nations #matthew || my country is winter #alfred || o beautiful for spacious skies

[kivaember]

Michigan's Emblem

well a passing observation had me going down a rabbit hole SO JOIN ME ON MY JOURNEY

At a glance, the emblem looks pretty cool alright? But there are some things that leap out at me:

why does ur liger have five legs, michigan

the heraldic style of the liger

the odd placement of the blade for a heraldic style

the liger's positioning

So the leg thing is interesting to me, because in heraldic style, there are three ways that an animal can be positioned: rampant, passant and statant.

(Okay actually I lie there's more than three ways, there's like eight but there's three that's the most common)

Rampant is the one people usually think of first when it comes to heraldry: the animal is standing on its hindlegs, forelegs raised in a clawing motion or reaching out.

Passant and statant, however, is when the animal is on all fours. Passant is when a front leg is held up (much like how Ligertail's fifth leg is), and statant is when all four paws/hooves/whatever are touching the ground. Examples below:

Rampant

Passant

Statant

Now Ligertail is in both Passant and Statant thanks to its five legs. This is interesting because of two things:

Statant postures are more frequent as crests than on charges on shields, which refers to their positioning on the heraldry. So, uh, crest is on the top, and charge is on the middle rightish.

A lion in passant may be called a leopard, because way back when the general rule (for English heralds) was that a passant lion was termed a leopard and a rampant lion was termed a lion.

Actually I'll be a bit more detailed: a lion in passant guardant, that is, its head facing towards the observer, is called a leopard. A lion in passant where its head is facing forwards is called a lion-leopard. (Looks at Liger... Lion-Tiger...)

In an old manuscript called de harudrie, a leopard was considered "borne of an adulterous union between a lioness and a pard" and like a mule incapable of reproducing. So a leopard was considered an appropriate charge for a person either born of adultery or someone that's forbidden to reproduce (like someone who's sworn a vow of chastity). Meanwhile lions traditionally symbolises courage, nobility, strength and valour.

OKAY so we have that quick and dirty and very simplified heraldry info out of the way (for those of you who are more au fait with heraldry feel free to chime in if i got anything wildly wrong), what does this mean for Michigan's five-legged heraldic liger?

Firstly, that it's in both passant and statant comes across as if Michigan is caught between two states, esp combined with Liger which is a Lion-Tiger hybrid. Statant is a posture usually used on crests, and a statant lion is still acknowledged as a lion, but a passant lion ends up being launched into that ambiguous realm of 'leopard' - and the whole implication of being a bastard or chaste. I wouldn't be surprised if it's Michigan making a joke. Maybe he's well-known as a bastard son of someone important, but his Hero of Jupiter title has him vaunted as a respectable figure (thus Crest) and so it's one of those 'widely known secrets no one talks about or acknowledges'.

There probably is some clever heraldic thing that the five legged liger caught between statant and passant means... let the theories flow...

Anyway, there's one other thing too: Ligertail's, er, tail. The way the tail forks and the end tapers into a sword, curled over Liger's back, sort of gives me scorpion vibes. Is it intentional? Who knows. Maybe he wanted to match with the other bug boys, or maybe he thought it looked cool. Anyways, I'm looking at that scorpion-esque tail and going hmmm.

Anyway, this was a fun deep dive. Maybe the fifth leg was just an accident and Michigan kept it because well, lol, it's funny. Or maybe there really is a deep meaning to it all hidden behing obscure heraldry rules..... or even if there isn't, I'm thinking there is one now and no one can stop me.

#armored core #armored core 6 #g1 michigan #i love being insane about something bc i can just overthink these things #is it that deep? probably not #but i have a shovel and im going to turn this puddle into a lake by god

[t1gerlilly]

I’ve seen a number of posts dismissing discussions of racism in the new storyline out of hand. To the point where I have no idea what the original criticisms were. And I think that’s really unfortunate. Partly because it feels like there’s a part of our community we’re not listening to and partly because I have some questions on the subject and would really like to hear what people are saying about it, but I’m clearly not following the right people.

I think folks forget how important Eddie is as Hispanic rep. Although 25% of the US population is Hispanic, only 3.3% of lead roles in TV are played by Hispanic actors (source) They’re also only 1.6% of showrunners and 1.9% of directors. And they are also under 5% of executive or management roles in media (source). So there is clearly a systemic problem.

But how does that apply to 911? Well - Carlos on lone star is notorious for having the least screen time of any character, despite the fact that his character is the closest to Athena in terms of role. And Eddie? Well, the latest I could find was season five totals - and Eddie and Chim, the non-white or black men, were bottom of the barrel. To really establish a pattern, you’d want more than two shows, but at least across half a decade of shows, the pattern is pretty consistent. I’m not making an argument about the reasons for that, but those are just the numbers. If I were to speculate, I’d assume it was a combination of who the network exec, showrunner, and executive producer was, since they have the power to make decisions. Just coincidentally, their racial identities mirror the screen time of the characters? Hmmmm

So then let’s look at who does press for the show - making themselves more visible…yeah, that’s largely Oliver. And you can say that’s because he’s a POV character- but you might be surprised to learn that in many seasons either Hen or Athena had more screen time than Buck. Yeah. Really. But you NEVER see Aisha put out to do press the way that Oliver is.

Why is that? Is it because she’s a black woman? Because she plays a queer character? And who is making that decision and why? Because that lack of visibility impacts her personal career. Same thing with Ryan Guzman and Kenneth Choi, who both have less screen time AND less press.

But in particular- and this is the rub - Ryan has CLEARLY been making intentional acting choices FOR YEARS to shape his character and his dynamic with Buck as queer. Oliver played into them, thinking of them as natural chemistry- but it’s clear that other creators on the show - notably the directors and writers, picked up on Ryan’s choices and fan reactions to reframe the dynamics and the characters.

And it’s really clear that Tim originally intended to have Eddie come out, but the poor reaction to Natalia and the fact that the actress was unavailable led him to switch the storyline to Buck. All of which is perfectly understandable.

But if there’s one person most responsible for the reason we ultimately got bi!Buck, it’s Ryan Guzman - for the bravery and perseverance of his choices as an artist. It’s amazing to me that in all the praise for Oliver saying that he “would have” leaned into Buck as queer even without the go ahead…no one has thought to praise the actor who actually DID THAT - for YEARS- when he was in a much more precarious position as a character and an actor. Like really take a minute to look at what that took…he was risking his livelihood with that choice.

And then, when the show DOES finally make it canon…who gets the praise? The buzz? The support? The white guy who was mostly oblivious for the past five years. Like…how is THAT fair?

And OK, the original plan was for the helicopter pilot to be Lucy, and that fell through so they reached out to Lou, because Tommy was a former character- but also quite likely because he looks a good deal like Buck - and the SL was supposed to have that character be a stand-in for the other half of Buddie. When they switched to Buck, they had to make Tommy have similar hobbies to Eddie to establish the similarities, since they couldn’t rely on looks.

But that meant they totally whitewashed the story line. And if you want to talk about firsts - when has a Hispanic lead come out as gay or bi? And how many of them were men? And how many were over 21? And on a mainstream show?

And no, it wasn’t intentional (just a function of having so many more white characters than Hispanic characters), but it was unfortunate. Not to mention the intersectionality of it all.

So…I honestly think there’s a decent basis for critique there. Not a “these people are terrible” critique, but a “not paying attention to diversity systemically” in a way that lets unconscious bias have the same impact as deliberate bias.

And I really wonder at the people who just dismissed the entire discussion - how hard did you listen? How willing were you to hear what people were saying? Because this is an issue that has to do with real people, their careers, their hopes, dreams, and identities. And you should be willing to listen.

#911 abc #eddie diaz #ryan guzman #911 discourse #911

[deadfishisyeq]

Splatoon qsmp au. Send post.

#qsmp #i have No thoughts other than Combine Things I Like #I THINK IVE SOMEWHAT MADE THIS BEFORE ACTUALLY #i got like. main weapons and stuff half done and then didnt know whether to do a more daily life au or. #Qsmp But Its Also Splatoon #I DIDNT KNOW #I AGVE UP #i should try again :)

[ava-does-dumbassery]

Egyptian pharaoh names but I’ve turned them into ancient cat names

1. Tutankhbastet (Tutankhamun)

This is the most obvious name on this list because literally all I’ve done is change out the name of one god for another god. I’m not doing that for any of the others I promise.

King Tutankhamun is the one pharaoh everybody knows about, which is ironic since his birth name literally means “the living (ankh) image (tut) of the Hidden One (Amun).” (“Tut” can also be translated as “likeness” or “statue.”)

Amun was the Egyptian god of, uh… stuff (he’s hidden. His whole deal is that he’s hidden). Bastet was the Egyptian cat goddess. Sometimes she was portrayed as a lady with a cat head, but sometimes she was just a cat. If you switch Amun’s name out for Bastet’s, it becomes “the living (ankh) image (tut) of the Cat Goddess (Bastet).” Truly, a name that only the most dignified and elegant cats deserve.

Transliteration: twt-anx-bAstt

You could also say it “Tutankhbast” if you prefer.

2. Hatmiushepsyu (Hatshepsut)

Hatshepsut’s name means “the foremost (hat) of noblewomen (shepsut),” and it turned out to be really good name for her, since she became pharaoh and all. If you want to change it to “foremost of noble cats” it becomes Hat-miu-shepsyu, “miu” meaning “cats” and shepsyu meaning “noble.”

Transliteration: HAt-miww-Spsyw

3. Nedjestiti (Nefertiti)

I am aware that calling Nefertiti a pharaoh is controversial since there’s a chance that Neferneferuaten might have been her daughter and not her. But finding names of pharaohs that you can do this to and are also popular enough to be recognized is hard so shush.

Nefertiti was supposedly the most beautiful woman in the ancient world (although we can’t confirm that because Nefertiti and all the other ancient women are now dead). Her name fits this, because it means “the beautiful one (nefert) has come (iti).”

“Nedjes” is a word meaning “small,” so changing the name to Nedjest-iti makes it mean “the small one has come.”

This is a good name, because if your cat is bad then you can use it in a derogatory sense to call them a penniless little beggar. Unfortunately, it only really works for girl cats, because the masculine version is “Nedjesiu,” which loses the pun quite a bit.

Transliteration: nDst-ii.ti

4. Miumer (Narmer)

Narmer was the first pharaoh to rule over all of Egypt, and like other early pharaohs the only name used for himself was his Horus name instead of his throne name or birth name. (You know that TS Elliot poem about how cats have a bunch of different types of names? Pharaohs are like that too). Because Narmer was his Horus name, it was written inside an enclosure called a serekh instead of a cartouche.

The name itself means something like “striking (mer) catfish (nar)” or “fierce (mer) catfish (nar).” To change it to “striking cat” or “fierce cat,” you need to change nar to miu: Miu-mer. (Yeah the English translations of this one are stronger wordplay than the Egyptian versions, sorry.)

If your cat is a girl then the name should be Miutmer instead.

Transliteration: miw-mr

5. Bitokris (Netiqerti/“Nitokris”)

Queen Nitokris was either a cunning murderess, whose name lurks in the shadows of history… or she was a 3,000 year old transcription error. The only potential record we have of her name in hieroglyphs is the name of a pharaoh called “Netiqerti” on the Turin kings list. This could be Nitokris, or it could be a mistake made by a scribe while trying to copy the name of the name of another, completely different pharaoh.

If Netiqerti is Nitokris, then her name means “Neith (Net, a goddess) is excellent (iqerti).” Bit-iqerti/Bitokris would mean “honey (bit) is excellent (iqerti).”

Transliteration: bit-iqr.ti

#Ancient egypt #egyptology #ancient languages #This list ending up having more girl pharaohs than boy pharaohs on it which is neat (even if one of them probably wasn’t real) #A lot of the famous names of male pharaohs I first thought of using are things like ‘the justice of Ra is strong’ ‘Thoth is born’ #Or some other combination of god name + religious meaning #And just switching another god out for Bastet gets very repetitive so I was only willing to put one version of that on this list #And the king Tut one works the best because Tut and Bastet are both well known enough that some non-nerds will probably be able to get it #Also because ‘The living image of Bastet’ is just a great name for a cat #The Nitokris one also follows that format but I was able to think of something that wasn’t just another god without completely changing it #And I’m so proud of myself for thinking of that. Bitokris is a great name. #I put this list in order of which of the pharaohs on it are most well known. If it was in order of the best names Bitokris would be first #and Tutankhbastet would be second #Ava has thoughts #Id in alt #ancient egypt stuff #Long post