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ozai-the-bonsai · 1 month

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Cry for the Moon

Pairing: Zuko x firebender!reader

Important Notes: I don’t think there is any use of she/her in this chapter but for future chapters, please don’t be surprised if other characters refer to the reader as she/her. And just like any other Fire Nation citizen, the reader has amber eyes. Other than that, I have given my best to avoid any further details about the reader but constructive criticism is always welcome!

Warnings: none

A/N: I am looking forward to your feedback on this very first chapter, personally the first ones are the hardest :) if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!

Taglist: @annonymatic @yoongiesstar @lost-inthe-v0id @lokigodofmyheart

Credits to @lost-inthe-v0id for the main idea behind the story

“This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life,” you spoke with a low voice as your hands reached the necklace Zuko was holding. It was past midnight, and you two had to be sleeping but – as always – you decided to sneak out to lay under the moonlight, enjoying the peace the night brought to the palace. “Did you do it yourself?”

Zuko nodded in a proud manner. “I have always loved the way the moonlight reflected from your amber eyes,” his words made you turn your gaze away, feeling heat rushing to your face. “So I wanted to capture that beautiful light in this amber stone as well.”

Apparently, he had somehow managed to melt the amber, place some tiny silver pieces which looked like stars, and then form the amber in a crescent moon.

“Do you want me to help you put it on?”

You nodded, gathering your hair on your left shoulder. “I love it,” you spoke as you laid your left hand on the necklace, your eyes finding Zuko’s. “Thank you.”

Slowly, Zuko’s left hand found your right one, which was resting on the grass, and held it tight. “Once I become the Fire Lord and make you my Fire Lady, I will gift you the finest of jewels.”

A small smile formed on your lips, he was always so eager to show his love – you adored it. “That sounds lovely,” your left hand was still on the necklace as you spoke. “But I cannot imagine a better gift than this.” Zuko’s face lit up almost immediately. “Every time I look at it, I will remember how lucky we are to have each other.”

Zuko left an innocent kiss on your forehead, his lips were warm against your skin. “You are my favourite person in this world.”

Waves crashing against the ship woke you up from the dream – a memory from the life of a different person. Unconsciously, you moved your left hand to your neck, only to find emptiness there. There was no necklace. There hasn’t been a necklace for over three years.

Your mind was playing tricks on you now that you knew it was only a matter of time before you saw the Banished Prince.

Realising that sleep was not going to be easy to find, you wrapped yourself in your red gown and went outside, only to find the Princess there on the front deck. The cold wind of the ocean was causing you to use your breath of fire as you walked towards her.

Azula didn’t even look to see the owner of the footsteps, she could recognise you anytime. “Having trouble sleeping?” She asked, but it was rather a rhetorical question.

You nodded as you stood next to her, your hands rested on the railings. “Sometimes I feel like my dreams hate me,” you muttered. “What’s your excuse? Please don’t tell me you have been up all night, again.”

The Princess simply shrugged; her amber eyes were fixed on the waves. You heaved a sigh.

“Azula, darling, even you need to sleep once in a while.” You spoke with a tender voice, which caused Azula to look at you. “Do you really want your failure of a brother to see a slipping version of yourself just because you were too stubborn to admit that you were sleepy?”

“But I am not done calculating all the possible scenarios for tomorrow,” she spoke with a low voice that wanted to sound stubborn but in the end, she was just tired. “I must be ready for anything.”

Gently, you wrapped your left arm around Azula’s waist. Growing up together – and especially after Zuko was banished – you two had developed a special bond, perhaps such that Azula hadn’t shared with anyone before. Not even with her mother.

“Sleep deprived Azula won’t have the same capacity as a well-rested Azula – we have talked about this before.” You were slowly making both of you walk inside. “Your body needs to rest, your mind as well. With a crystal-clear mind, you will finish your calculations in no time tomorrow, I am sure of it.”

She would never admit it, but Azula loved the way you had this soft spot for her – it was too easy to read it from her eyes if one had known her long enough.

“Plus, sleep deprivation is bad for your skin – you will get dark rings under your eyes. Nobody wants that.”

Azula let out a chuckle as you stopped in front of her chambers. “You do know how to get to me.”

You let her waist go as you adjusted your red gown. “As long as you allow me to, Princess.” Your voice carried the hints of affection, sympathy, and loyalty. “I intend to be there to get to you, to assist you, and to kill for you, when you need me to.”

The edge of Azula’s lips curled upwards upon hearing you. “Allow yourself to rest,” she spoke as she walked into her chamber. “I can see that having to see Zuzu after all these years is starting to trouble you – I need you to bury the ghosts from the past.”

“We both know that the ghosts have all been buried long ago,” you said before heading back to your room. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be standing here with you today.”

At least, that was what you had believed for the past three years – that all the flames from the past were snuffed out – until Azula visited you in your chambers a week ago.

[Flashback]

You giggled as you ran your fingers through Shuzi’s smooth, dark hair; his head was rested on your lap as he laid on your bed. It had been a peaceful morning with Shuzi surprising you with breakfast in bed – apparently, he had been in the kitchens, preparing your breakfast on his own, declining any kind of help offered by the servants.

“Do you have any plans for today?” Shuzi asked, his amber eyes wandering on your face.

“You know that I need to keep up with learning the languages,” you responded as your hand moved down to cup his face. “And I have this family dinner later today.”

Shuzi pouted in a playful way. “Won’t I get to see my girlfriend for the rest of the day?” he spoke imitating a baby’s voice, which caused you to giggle once again. “That’s too long!”

Before you could lean in and leave a small kiss on his nose, the doors to your chambers were opened to reveal Azula standing outside. She was already in her royal uniforms but without the armour – compared to the sleeping robes you still wore. Which made you realise that you hadn’t even combed your hair.

“Aw, adorable,” Azula spoke with a rather soft tone which sounded a bit too sarcastic and caused Shuzi you sit up straight. “Shuzi, give us a moment.”

Of course, just like everyone else in the Fire Nation, Shuzi wouldn’t dare make the Princess repeat herself. Hence, he quickly stood up, gathered his stuff, placed a quick kiss on your lips and left your chambers. As the servants closed the doors, you raised a questioning eyebrow at Azula.

“He is not a puppy, you know.”

Azula made herself comfortable on your couch while watching you walk towards the table to pour yourself some tea – it was still warm enough. “Well, he certainly allows himself to be used as one.” She responded, causing you to heave an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, please – only a fool could miss the way you get him to do everything for you.” Azula crossed her right leg over the left one. “A little bit girlish coquetry, a little bit kissing and congratulations! You get the finest top knot pin with rubies and black diamonds.”

Holding the tea with your both hands, you turned back to face Azula, the eyebrow still arched. “Azula, there is no need to be jealous over something so small – you are the princess, you can literally get anything you want at any time.”

“Me? Jealous?” Azula let out her well-known, condescending laughter. “You have said it yourself – I am the Princess. There isn’t possibly a person in this world that I could ever be jealous of.”

Once again, you heaved a sigh – Azula knew very well that you could see through her almost all the time for you knew her way too well. However, at moments like this, she would show the Ozai in herself by pretending that the deep connection you shared didn’t even exist.

Sometimes, you tended to get mad at her for such behaviour, but you tried to remind yourself why Azula acted the way she did and how you could heal her – and it wasn’t by approaching her the same horrible way Ozai had been doing for all these years.

“Azula..?”

The Princess brushed you off and you decided not to push further, you would probably have more private time with her after the day was over. “Anyways, I have some exceptionally important news for you.”

You took a long sip from your tea as you leant the table behind you. “I am all ears.”

“Father has assigned me a crucial task after the recent outrageous failure in the North,” Azula began explaining and you simply nodded – not that you believed the failure to be outrageous but to signal her to continue.

The moment you had heard about the plans to siege the Northern Watertribe from your father, you had known it was not going to work out the way Ozai had fashioned it to. There was a reason why the North hadn’t even received a single blow in the last hundred years.

Azula slowly stood up. “I am to stop Zuzu and Uncle from further disgracing my family. Father wants me to capture them and bring back as prisoners of the Fire Nation.”

“Will you be sailing to Earth Kingdom, then?” You asked with a curious look in your amber eyes.

“We will be sailing to Earth Kingdom.” Azula corrected you with a smirk on her lips. “I want you to come with me on this mission.”

The teacup between your hands fell down onto the ground, breaking into million pieces.

[Flashback ends]

Sleep hadn’t been eager to pull you into its soothing embrace that night. Before going on to this mission with Azula, your only concern had been whether you would miss Shuzi or not – well, you two hadn’t really spent several days apart ever since you got together. You being a noble resident in the Royal Palace due to your father’s military work and Shuzi’s family being the Fire Lord’s foremost advisors, you two could easily spend any night together at your chambers.

However, instead of missing Shuzi’s arms wrapped around your body at night, you had found yourself missing the peaceful sleep which wasn’t haunted by the ghosts from your past. It disturbed you greatly that even the anticipation of getting to see Zuko after three long years was starting to disrupt everything you had built since he was gone.

It hadn’t been easy to rebuild – no, it had been the most painful thing you had ever done in your sixteen years of life and you certainly did not intend to let the Banished Prince burn your whole world to ashes.

Not this time.

#prince zuko #atla zuko #zuko x reader #the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #princess azula #zuko #zuko x oc

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artsy-hobbitses · 1 day

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Just finished watching X-Men 97 Ep 7 (I love having a series to look forward to on a weekly basis again! Excited to get a good dinner and sit down for half and hour of getting WHIPLASHED by all the new reveals and emotions. It's such a nice thing to look forward to inthe mid-week slog as well)!!!

Thoughts and spoilers below!

They REALLY went all out with Gambit's funeral, and it was nice seeing Nightcrawler carrying out priest rites for the brother-in-law he could have had. Jubilee's anguished anger at Rogue not being there HURT

Holy shit ROGUE. VERY Rogue-centric episode, and it's pain pain PAIN evbery other minute. Her absolute disdain for Captain America not wanting her to be on his team to check out Gyrich because of the tense situation/'optics' is 100% understandable, I stand by women's rights and Rogue's Wrongs in this case. Also her backhanding him with the "America's Top Cop" label, she taking no prisoners this week.

Beast gently but sternly calling out Trish the reporter about how 'tolerance' simply isn't enough anymore and it was a low bar to set for mutant-human relations to begin with, and how he's aghast at the idea of having to give a calming/professional sound byte or something to try and quell mutant protests and demonstrations worldwide after what happened, after MILLIONS OF THEM DIED is. Very relevant. To certain current events. He's been trying SO HARD to be the sweet, professional one, but he is tired and he is sad and he doesn't have it in him to ask for the bare minimum anymore or tell his people they don't have the right to feel the way they do.

We get Diamond Emma! No clue as to whether the massacre has changed her outlook on life since her appearance was during a brief rescue moment where Cyclop's hopes that Madelyne could have survived (Jean said she could feel a telepath under all the rubble) got crushed, but hopefully that'll be answered in the next ep!

Sunspot finally coming clean to his mum about him being a mutant! She seems like a very sweet lady who clearly loves him and takes it VERY WELL, but immediately she's like "Our family is established and in the spotlight, your father's business can't afford this sort of publicity. The world won't accept you, especially given what happened, so we have to find a way to hide this from the public, and that includes cultivating a list of people you can associate with". Which feels like it could be relevant to today's queer acceptance where it's like "On a personal basis I love you and accept you for who you are, BUT..." as an evolution from the X-Men movie's "Have you ever tried... not being a mutant?"

There is a LOT of talk about 'optics' in this episode, which feels VERY TIMELY. And VERY POINTED. How President Kelly apparently wants to send aid to Genosha, but doesn't do it to the fullest extent because he's worried about the political optics from 'normal humans' who are now afraid of an all out human-mutant war, and argues that he's doing his best here and that he needs suppport to stay in office to ensure a 'worse' person for mutant advocacy doesn't step in (I'm not going to lie. Very Democrat argument for why their man should stay in office---look at the boogieman who might be there if they aren't, instead of dealing with issues head-on) . And Cyclops's civil but seething rage at that because this is NOT a time for subtleties or politicking MILLIONS OF MY PEOPLE ARE DEAD.

Nightcrawler comforting Rogue and letting her just bawl openly in his arms during Day of the Dead ;; My heart.

Rogue kills a man. Or, helps him to his death, I'm not sure how you categorize this when Trask was already attempting to jump off a building out of guilt anyway, and she stepped in to stop him, only to let go when he said he had no other info for her (she had initially told him to help them to redeem himself). Again, 100% understandable, I support Rogue's Wrongs, and I LOVE how dark they're taking this, watching our girl step closer and closer to the abyss from her rage and grief and just plunging into it. Also her screaming that Trask deserved it for killing a great man, "MY MAN!!!!!". Whoof.

KNEW Mags wasn't dead. Going to be fun seeing WHAT Bastion plans to do with him now.

Again, STELLAR episode, a good 9/10 from me!

#x men 97 #x-men 97 spoilers

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ajs-bookmark · 3 months

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guess who fucking finished EPISODE SIX

that’s right it’s meeee

okok my thoughts: SPOILERS AHEAD

IRIS MESSAGING OH MY GODS ITS SO COOL ITS SO FREAKINGG COOOOLLLL! !!!! like ARGGGG its like a really badly connected facetime i love it.

omgs luke “HOW DO YOU KNOW😳😳” that’s some interesting foreshadowing there uncle rick

CLARISSEEEEEEEEEEEE HAHAHAHAH I FORGOT ABOUT THAT PART IN THE BOOKS

“compared to the chimera on monday and medusa on sunday” percy’s so real for that idc. icon.

WHEN DID YOU TWO START ACTING LIKE AN OLD MARRIED COUPLE LMAOAOAOAOA how did luke know. mans knew from the very beginning

animals running amok in las vegas💀

i’m guessing the one with the giant lotus blossom on it annabeth, queen of calling out percy’s bullshit

LEVITATING IS PERFECT (not as perfect as poker face but still pretty good)

the graphic novel. counts. my bro ain’t wrong. the graphic novels count

THEY FIGURED IT OUT SO SOON IM SO PROUD OF THEM

I MAYBE SAW BIANCAS HAT like i saw in the background a girl with a green floppy hat ??? bianca is that you ???

are augustus and ferdinand gay ????

if i tell you something will you promise not to make fun of me and annabeths lil “dude” like percy ofc she’s going to make fun of you

IS THAT NICO INTHE RED JACKEF I SEE HIM I SEE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM HES SO AWWWWW AW AW AW AW AW I LOVD YOU

^^^^my actual reaction as a saw a lil short kid with black hair wearing a red jacket

LIN MANUEL MIRANDA HAPPY BIRTHDAY FATHER

youre a really good guesser. lmao percy he’s a god😭😭

luke changes everything. like he always does.

poor bb looks so sad about his son :( i can tell he wants to go back and fix everything

i remember JUST FINE. GO QUEEN GO. LIKE YES YOU DO, TELL THE BITCHY GOD

and i feel a lot better about having stolen his keys. exactly !! wait what. this whole scene was so perfectly their dynamic

HAHAHAHAHHA PERCY DRIVING A CAR IVE NEVER LAUGHED HARDER HOLY HADES

imagine your first driving lesson being saving the world i think i would kms

HELP HIM HITTING THE WALL IM DEAD

grover getting his memory back is so cute 🥰🥰🥰

yes king go meet ur dad even though he’s not there

PREPARE FOR WAR OMGS WHAT …. i was NIT expecting that

this is not your fault. you are brave. you are strong. you made your father proud. me when the daddy issues kick in and i almost started crying

HEY NOW. THEY ONLY GAVE HIM THREE IN THE BOOKS. RESPECTFULLY, WHY DOES SALLY JACKSON GET TO LIVE INSTANTLY WHY IS THERE NOT A STRUGGLE !!! THATS PERCYS WHOLE REASON FOR BEING PISSED

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star-girl69 · 11 months

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Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of cannibalism, mentions of murder, mention of suicide, mentions of death, animal death, violence and gore, swearing, tell me if i misses anything!!

Chapter Seven - In the Before

—-

2021-

After taking the weekend off of work to avoid Jessica Roberts, Sunday night rolled around, and as you set out your outfit for the next morning, you were reminded distinctively of nights before school, that same dreadful feeling.

You also thought about the moment right before you picked a card.

The knock at your door was unexpected, so you frowned even as you opened it, and a short woman with curly blonde hair smiled widely at you.

“Y/N!” she shouted, throwing her hands out, like she was gonna hug you, but you pulled back.

“Do I know-?” But then she adjusted her glasses in a way that was so distinctively her. “Misty?”

She smiled wider.

“And I brought a friend!” she winked, and you frowned even more, tempted to shut the door on her face.

You peered around her, until a voice came from just next to you, a hand suddenly resting on your doorframe.

“Y/N,” she said, and it was the voice that you could hear through violence, through mountains and rivers and thousands of miles. The voice that brought you through the violence and into the peace, brought you out of the wilderness.

“Natalie,” you whispered after a moment. Her face appeared around the corner, and she looked just like she did in 2019- black leather jacket, black hair, her lips pulled into a tight line.

“Y/N,” she said again. Like she was saying your name just to say it, just to make sure you were there. “Travis… Travis is dead.”

—-

1996-

After your turn of carrying Coach Ben, you were eager to be near the front, closer to the end, following close behind Van and the compass she had taken from the cockpit.

You kept your eyes peeled for anything edible along the trail you followed, naturally carved out by generations of animals moving from the forest to the lake.

You stopped, crouching down to brush aside a small string of english ivy, only to find inedible winterberries. You sighed, standing back up and taking another good look at this section of the forest.

Someone stood next to you.

“You know, it’s pretty cool that your mom’s a botanist.” You looked at Natalie and smiled softly, wondering if you could run your fingers through her hair like it was strands of ivy.

“Yeah,” you muttered, falling into step beside her.

“I mean it’s really cool for us, because we would be even more screwed than we already are if we didn’t know what was safe to eat out here,” she laughed. “I probably would have eaten those elderberries or whatever raw and died.”

“You go around eating random stuff in the forest a lot?”

“It’s my favorite past-time,” she chuckled, and suddenly her hand brushed against yours, and it was like the lightning that had brought your plane down.

Her skin felt like violence, everything about her did, but you still wanted to sink into her.

You weren’t a fool. Natalie was beautiful, but what was even the possibility of her liking girls?

You pushed the thought out of your mind and shut up before you could say anything stupid.

—-

2021-

You had loved Natalie far too recklessly and far too much. Inthe wilderness, you loved her enough to even let her eat you. But after, when you came back, and saw that love wasn’t about suffering- you still couldn’t let her go.

She was as much deep into your soul as the wilderness was.

If someone were to cut you open, dig around in your soul, they would find your messed-up organs inside, and her, and the wilderness.

She was violence, and once, in a world full of violence, she made you feel safe and loved. She held you at night and made sure there was meat in your stomach, even if you had to hunt it, or kill it.

But in the real world, you weren’t hungry, and you were still scared- but not in a way that bonded you to her. Not anymore.

After Misty had invited herself in, and Nat had followed her, all you had been able to do was sit on the couch. Natalie stood, far away from you, while Misty made you something to drink and sat next to you, rubbing your shoulder.

Even after all these years, you couldn’t tell if her sympathetic smile was genuine.

Everyone in that plane crash had left something permanent, a scar, on your memory. You remembered everyone who died- from Pilot Fred to everyone who was killed to keep the rest alive. To keep you alive.

“How- how can he be dead?”

“Oh, he killed himself,” Misty frowned, much too calm and happy considering that someone you once had killed alongside with was dead. “We found him- hanging from a construction crane.”

“I don’t believe he killed himself.”

You looked at Natalie, and now it was your turn to look her up and down, your eyes wide and your bones stiff, mouth parted slightly even now in horror. You could imagine a pair of work boots swinging from the air.

It was a while before you could find the courage to speak.

“How did you find me, Natalie?”

Misty took a breath as if to answer-

“I didn’t want to, Y/N. I got the message loud and clear but- Travis is dead, n-” she stopped herself from saying that word.

You cut her a sharp glare, squeezing the handle of the untouched coffee mug Misty had made you.

There was too much associated with that word, an entire other life you had lived- drawing cards, eating too-tough meat, sinewy and chewy, her voice that you loved, whispering, calling you that nickname as she handed you another piece of your friends.

Once you had loved that name. You had loved being hers.

But you were not that girl anymore.

And Natalie wasn’t either.

“Sorry,” she whispered after a moment. She stared into your eyes then looked away, digging her hands into her pockets.

This- this wasn’t the Natalie you knew.

The girl who you had loved in the wilderness wasn’t the same girl as you loved in 2019. But still- things stayed the same. This was like an entire different person. Like someone had crawled into your skin.

You imagined a skeletal hand, clutching a pair of spindly scissors, making a slice down her back to step into.

“But you deserved to know.”

You had always loved her far too much.

—-

1996-

You were the first to smell it. It smelled like the jaws of death, like the remnant of every horrible meal- innocent or not.

“What’s that smell?” you asked, pressing your sleeve to your face.

“I don’t know,” Natalie said back, looking around the forest, until Lottie gasped. “Holy shit.”

Flies swarmed about it, reminding you of the sound a hot summer day made, a glittering blue pool, something cold in your hand, a bright sun- there wasn’t the carcass of a bear, left half eaten, being picked on by a crow. It’s organs fell out of it’s ripped apart stomach, and the blood on the ground had long since dried.

“Oh, God, I’m gonna puke,” you heard Jackie moan.

You groaned to yourself, looking away from the dead thing.

“Woah. Sick,” Travis remarked.

“What could have done that?” Shauna asked, and she was right. What could kill a fucking bear?

“A wolf, probably,” Coach Ben said.

“They can kill a fucking bear?” Nat asked.

“Yeah. Wolves can kill anything if the pack’s big enough.”

Nat stared at it longer, you standing next to her, not wanting to drift far away- even like this.

“Let’s keep moving,” she announced suddenly, sharing a look with you before marching down the trail.

—-

The closer you got to the lake, the more serene the forest became, like this place was a truce- nothing bad could come near the lake, near that vital life-giving place of water.

But, the journey was wearing on all of you, and you were all slowing down. And without the sports experience like the other girls had, you were struggling especially.

“Ah!” you yelped as your foot got caught on a root- you could barely even look at the ground, your eyes wanting to close, wanting to give up. Not even the promise of the lake was enough anymore.

Natalie grabbed onto you quick, one of her arms around your chest, like it was on the plane, the other gripping onto your shoulder.

“Woah, you okay?” she asked, helping you walk over to the side of the trail, to lean against a tall oak tree.

“I’m not a soccer player,” you groaned, “I just write about it. I don’t- don’t have the stamina like you guys…”

“Hah, hah,” Natalie said, squeezing your hand. “You’re fine. I feel like I’m dying too. Don’t worry,” You shot her an exasperated look, and she studied your face, before looking back down the path. “This shit is way longer than four miles. What if we missed it?” she asked, raising her voice so the rest of the team could hear her.

“From the angle of the sun, it looked just left of due north.” Taissa responded, her voice sounding heavy and weighted. Natalie rolled her eyes, tugging you back onto the path with a hand wrapping around your arm.

“Oh, great. ‘Left.’ That’s a precise way of doing it.” Jackie said, sarcasm dropping from her words.

“I’m not a fucking cartographer,” Tai shot back.

“Or maybe you saw a mirage.”

Each step like it was weighed down by a hundred pound weight. You felt sick and horrible, and you wanted nothing more than to lie still in the shade, or jump into whatever lake Taissa had seen, real or not.

You would even jump into a pool of blood, a swamp, as long as in your mind it felt like cool water.

“Oh, shit.” Van suddenly said, waving her arm frantically. “Oh, hell yeah, bitches!” she shouted, and when you looked at the direction she was running off to, there was a lake just visible through the trees.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki

#yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

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kitkat27 · 6 months

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Two Lines

Ilsa discovers life changing information but dealing with Lane again will have to come first …

Posted on ao3 - kit_kat_27

Thank you sooooo much to @justabigassnerd for putting up with me for the last couple of months while I’ve been writing. Couldn’t have done it without your support!

It will becoming a series hopefully (comment if you want on the taglist)

Please let me know what you guys think. I’ve not done a lot of romance and haven’t written for about 2 yrs so I’m a bit rusty. This is my first fic in this fandom, it’s one of the longest I’ve written and one of my first fight scenes. Ignore grammar and spelling mistakes. This will be posted on ao3 too !

Two lines. Two definite pink lines. Two lines blink back at her confirming her suspicions. Two lines that will now change her life from this exact moment.

Two lines that couldn't be erased. Lines that confirm her body was right. All the signs that she had been dodging confirmed her fears.

Fingers grazed against her abdomen, as if her fingers were scared if they lingered too long it would confirm her fears.

This had been at the bottom of her list, hell after being with the syndicate for two years it had been erased from it. And for finding out, a derelict safe house in rural Denmark was not the scenario she had thought of many years ago.

She had snagged the test the other week and let it burn a hole in her bag until she was going to pop under the pressure.

She'd finally given in to the pressure at the safehouse with the safety of knowing the boys wouldn't be back for another couple of hours.

But now she wasn’t sure what to do, sitting in the bathroom staring at the two pink lines. For once in her life she didn't have the next step already planned. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there as the sounds of the boys inthe driveway indicated their return.

Not wanting Ethan to find out yet, she needed to wrap her brain around it first, she shoved the test down into the depths of her bag where she hoped it would stay hidden until she was ready to tell.

‐—--------------‐—-----------------

Solomon Lane was a name that kept appearing, though all four wished it didn't. Every time they thought they were done he would reappear.

And so they were, here again, staring at the computer each wishing that if the computer was closed and reopened it would be gone, and they could go back to chilling in their safe house.

But alas, they did. Brandt, who now made secretary, had sent them an email after word had gotten out that Lane had escaped Alana's grip and had not been handed over to MI6.

Nobody knew if either Alanna or the Mi6 had played a part in his escape. You can only trust a broker so much, Alanna would always think of herself no matter what she had promised.

But the wind was that he had escaped to Europe where some of his still, somehow, loyal followers remained. The organization was heading to a remote village in Kashmir threatening to release a nuclear bomb that would starve a third of the world's population.

Brandt was warning them to take these hints about Lane with a pinch of salt as it wasn't said who had given them this information and to approach the entire case with caution.

She was going to have to put telling Ethan, he would end the mission before it even started if she told him now the news on the back burner for now. If Lane found out they were carrying new information he wouldn't stop till he found.

————————————-

They split up once they reached the camp, Lane would stand out like a sore thumb in the remote village.

Ethan and Luther took to the nearby medical camp, leaving Benji and Ilsa to tackle the village. Ethan and Ilsa didn’t want to split, they worked better together but Lane would be wanting them to be together.

Once they reached the village, they split again to cover more ground while keeping each other in sight. Well, it was more Ilsa keeping an eye on Benji as she was concerned about Benji running into Lane alone again.

She knew he’d passed field tests and could hold his own, but he didn’t have the same skills or experience. She and Ethan had an unspoken agreement that they’d always put themselves in the firing line before Luther and Benji.

Making her way around the village, she did her best to stay under the radar. Lane had predicated all their movements but she had wanted to at least try to be in front. Out of the main village, on the outskirts, a lone house stood. Void of any women or children hanging outside, drawing her to it.

‘Benji, I may have a lead, stay close by and on comms. We'll draw attention if we both go ‘

Her fellow brit already began to panic at her evading the laid out plan, ‘‘Ilsa, you know what etha-’

‘Stay close by, I need to do this’ and with that, she blocked out the following Benji ramble.

Nothing on the outside balcony gave any clues to Lane. Pausing at the bottom of the steps, she could hear Benji arguing in her ear and threatening to switch on Ethan’s earpiece knowing he would stop this.

But she wanted to, no she needed to take on Lane herself.

She needed to find some form of closure from the years she worked in the syndicate, and the pain and torture he put her friends through.

Some closure for the nights she woke up screaming. All the years by herself, all the years alone, he needed to repay.

She made her way into the house. with each step she took her mind was on overdrive, her eyes darting back and forth making sure her six was covered.

Training would tell her that walking through an open door is a trap. Sweeping the first room, there was nothing in the house that wasn't covered in dust or had seen better days.

A blur of movement occurred in her peripheral vision of a figure moving to another room. Mentally apologizing to Ethan and the boys she followed.

The room was the same as the last a movement attracting her to a darkened section of the room causing her to turn aro-

A blinding pain across the back of her skull turned her vision white.

With the back of her head throbbing leaving her frozen, another blow to her lower back dropped her to the ground, the world turning black.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Ilsa, Ilsa. I know you can hear me. I'm a second away from calling Ethan’. This wasn't a good idea.

‘Ilsa you better respond’

Why couldn't Luther have gone with Ilsa, she listened to him the most. Luther was the only one who sometimes could reign her in these situations.

Ilsa’s tracker showed her around the edge of the village, where Lane would want her. He would know she would split from the group and that she would tackle him alone. Pulling out his phone he sent a message to Luther, warning of his worries without alerting Ethan.

He readied his gun as he spotted the lonely house in front of him. Why could the bad guys never be sitting in a coffee shop ready to hand themselves over after grabbing a latte?

Silence. The house was empty. 2 spies would be quiet but shouldn’t be completely silent.

Sweeping all the rooms in the house, the worry grew with every increasing minute he spent with no sign of Ilsa or Lane.

‘ Ilsa, Ilsa are you i-’, blood.

Blood. Ilsa’s gun.

Blood, a lot of blood for a spy who was the best of the best.

‘ Benji, where are you?’, shit Ethan.

‘ The house at the end of the village, Ilsa spotted Lane here and went after him. She’s-’, doing this over comms would be easier than face to face, ‘she’s not here Ethan. Lane has her, she's injured’

Ethan never panicked but he’d never had someone like Ilsa in his life before.

The one warning he had given to the team was to not take Lane on alone, especially Ilsa. She had failed tests towards the end of her undercover stint. She wouldn't be lucky the next time she ran into Lane alone.

Lane and Ilsa were stubborn and hot-headed, with an intense hatred for each other, what would happen when the two were reunited Ethan didn't want to know.

In the safe house in Denmark she had acted a little off, an unknown fear had flickered across her face when their time off in Denmark was being cut short.

Benji was waiting for them on the porch of the house, panic written over his face. He didn't waste time looking in the house, no point subjecting his heart to what she had gone through.

Circling the house there was almost nothing to go on until he came across faint footsteps leading away from the home to some soft tire tracks in the distance.

There were only 2 sets of prints, both too big for Ilsa. Lane had a plan in mind for another location. She would be no match for him unconscious and drugged. Luther and Benji hung back letting him decide on what to do next.

The tracks led deep into the mountains. Wasting no time in telling the other two what or where he was going, he began sprinting back to where they had left the car at the medical camp,

‘I’ll get you two as I come past’

----------------------------------------------

A pounding pain pulsed at the back of her head. The first effort in opening her eyes sent a shockwave of pain around her skull. The second she managed to open them she noticed a figure sitting in front of her.

‘Nice of you to finally join me’. The figure chuckled, ‘It took a large amount of drugs to keep you knocked out. I trained you well.’

Lane.

A haggard version of the man she spent 2 years doing every bidding.

‘We’re owed a reunion and a rematch don't we, my dear Ilsa’. He took her face in his hands his callused hands tightening around her jaw, smirking she was putty in his hands.

‘You're not speaking my dear? I thought you'd have plenty to say to me’.

Heading towards the open door he turned at the doorway, ‘I'm gonna give you time to think until that pretty boyfriend of yours figures out where we are. Then I’ll be a man and kill you myself.’

Taking notice of her current predicament, she noted her ankles and wrists were bound tight, sores already forming.

As she was deciding on whether to dislocate her thumb, her wrist snagged on a sharp edge on the back of the chair. All the spy movies loved this cliché and for once she was glad it was happening.

She had to work fast, not knowing when Lane would come back into the hut. Her wrists released themselves from their binding, she immediately worked on releasing her legs fingernails beginning to bleed at the frantic speed at which she was working.

Click.

A loaded gun. The cold metal was placed against her forehead ‘My sweet Ilsa, I always am shown why Atlee chose you. You never disappoint’

Glancing upwards, she met Lane's eyes his gaze cold but joyful. He loved getting a rise out of those who crossed him.

‘I'm glad’

Neither of them moved both poised, when all of a sudden it was like a bullet had been fired and the fight began.

Drawing a knife from her boot, she lunged for Lane whilst grabbing his gun with the other hand. Knocking him backwards from the force of her attack, the gun falling from his grasp.

Swiping her blade aiming for his throat but taking any damage that would occur. The surprise of her attack quickly wore off, Lane began to block her attempts with his own.

A fist collided with her cheek and knocked her back a step. Another landing on her ribs sent an alarming crunch throughout the room.

She folded in on herself, exaggerating her pain from the broken ribs, waiting until he was close enough till she could grab a hold of his arm and use his momentum to flip him over her back.

Before Lane had a chance to react she threw herself on top of him wrapping her hands around his throat and applying all the pressure she could.

He scrambled underneath, fear in his eyes at the strength of her attack, attempting to rip her hands off him. She was squeezing with all her might but her power was in using her thighs to choke. Lane knew her inside and out she didn't want to be too predictable.

She was about to change tactics when a hand in her hair dragged her backwards with such force throwing her against the wall of the hut.

Not taking any time to find out who had joined, she kicked out at her attacker's legs. Swiping their feet, toppling them onto a winded Lane giving her the chance to run for it out the open door.

She had no plan but to run as far away as she could, Ethan was bound to be looking for her now. How far she would get she didn’t know, the pounding in her head was beginning to grow and the broken ribs were stealing her ability to breathe.

The sound of a twig snapping alerted her to someone coming up behind her, the drugs were making it harder and harder for her to react. Her body was now just running on pure fear to keep herself alive long enough for Ethan to find her.

Her new companion spun her around, her arms subconsciously wrapped themselves around her stomach, revealing their identity.

‘Trevligt att se dig igen. Du kommer inte bli lika lätt den här gången’.

Viktor. The bone doctor.

He had a talent for evading death. She wanted to either run or fight back but her limbs had suddenly become heavy. All she could do was watch Viktor as he got a firm grip on her arm and he plunged her own knife deep into her shoulder.

‘Karma är en jävel, eller hur? det gör väl ont ?’

All she could do was keep her body upright as he smirked at the blood pooling on her shoulder and grabbed the handle twisting the blade deeper. Blinding pain took over her body as she felt the blade twist deeper, she was not sure how much longer she could hold on.

‘ILSA !!!’, when did Ethan get here? She could barely see his figure moving towards her as her vision began to swim and her body felt like a lead weight as she fell to the ground protecting her stomach.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Pulling up over the top of the mountain, chaos and horror awaited him. Ilsa writhed in the grip of Viktor, his vicelike grip being the only thing that was keeping her upright. She wasnt fighting back, her arms hung loosely at her sides, there was no recognition of her knowing he was there her eyes glassy and unfocused.

The powerful, badass spy he normally knew was not the one he was currently running towards. A breath hair away from reaching Ilsa, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she dropped to the ground her body curling in on itself. Viktor let go as if she was a discarded ragdoll he no longer wanted to torture.

Resisting running to her side immediately, he focused on Viktor. He wasnt going to let him off lightly this time. He was going to make sure he was dead this time, and let one shot from his gun hit the centre of Viktor's heart dropping the swede instantly.

He didn't want to fight the man, it wasnt worth the risk of getting injured fighting a man double his height. Somehow Lane had slipped away again. Hopefully, for good, Ilsa was on the brink of death and he’d mentally manipulated Ethan, all everything he set out to achieve

The helicopter blades could be heard coming over the mountain top, Benji had mentioned as they drove that Julia was working at the medical camp, he must have sent a call for help as they reached the scene.

He wasn't gonna let go of Ilsa until they pried her out of his hands. Her body felt like glass in his hands, the blood flowing out of the knife wound wasn’t slowing her face getting paler as the seconds went on.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Looking at Ilsa’s results, something was wrong. Ilsa was above peak physical condition, nothing should show up abnormal. All standard tests, which included a pregnancy test for any female regardless, had been run and she should pass all.

Shit.

Her hCG levels were elevated.

Ilsa was pregnant. Ilsa was expecting Ethan's baby.

She was 3 months pregnant. This would explain why Ilsa's body fought them when she was brought in, her body was protecting the baby.

Grabbing the abdominal ultrasound she wondered if Ethan knew. Ilsa had broken down her walls around him but was this a wall that either had discussed? Ethan hadn’t mentioned anything when they rescued Ilsa and neither of the boys had shown signs of knowing.

Running the ultrasound over Ilsa’s stomach the relieving sound of the baby's heartbeat filled the small tent. Well, she hoped it was relieving, hell did Ilsa know herself?

She suspected she did from the Brit cradling her stomach as she drifted in and out of consciousness during the flight. The heartbeat was steady, the baby was safe and healthy which was lucky considering what Ilsa had been through in the last 24 hours.

The radio attached to her hip crackled to life announcing the helicopter making its way back with the rest of the team. They had to leave them behind to make room for them to work on Ilsa. Luther had to hold onto a struggling Ethan, who had fought with all his might to come with them.

She had about 5 minutes before they would get back to the tent, giving her enough time to pack any baby-related items away. She figured Ilsa needed to be the one to tell Ethan herself.

As she was busying herself with tidying, the heart rate of the British agent signalled she was beginning to ruse. Eyes flickered open to meet hers, pain whimpers followed as she came to.

With a hand on her none injured shoulder, she spoke softly ‘Ilsa, hey it's ok. It's Julia, you're in the med camp. You're injured from the kidnapping and fight, Ethan and the team are safe and are on their way.’

Once the meaning of her words sunk in, Ilsa began to calm. ‘ I, I…’

‘Don't push yourself, save your voice for Ethan’, striking blue eyes travelled along the spy’s own body taking note of the injuries and finally landing on her stomach.

Knowing the question she was thinking, she answered for her,

‘The baby is fine. You're about 12 weeks, I’ve not put it in your notes and told the team to not tell the others-’ Ilsa then met her eyes ‘- I figured you'd want to tell them’.

Hearing the helicopter land in the distance, she put the last piece of equipment away before turning back to Ilsa.

‘Whatever you decide to do, I'm here. Whatever is running through your head, ignore it, Ethan will be happy whatever you decide. He loves you and will support you through every step.’

Ilsa spoke for the first time since waking ‘Than- thank you, Julia. I want Ethan’

Returning the smile, she placed a gentle kiss on her friend's hairline ‘He’s arriving at the camp now, he’ll be here any minute’ before making her way out of the tent.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The helicopter hadn’t even turned its blades off before he was barreling out of it tearing along the path to the med tent.

Finding the main tent he bumped into Eric who was making his way out, grasping his arm as he passed ‘ It was touch and go, we did lose her once but she's ok. She’s asking for you.

She seemed at peace lying on the small hospital bed, monitors surrounding her, a rhythmic beeping sound. The sound reaffirms Eric's words, but he needed to see for himself.

A black eye and a bandage going from her eyebrow to the hairline adorned the left side of her face. A blanket was drawn up to mid chest leaving her shoulders bare showing the thick bandaging adorning where the knife had been mere hours ago.

Her eyes were closed but he knew she wasn't sleeping, she wouldn't until they were back in a safehouse. Reaching her side, he resisted reaching out; he didn't know what had happened between her and Lane.

As if she could read his mind, ‘It's ok, Ethan. I need you please’.

Avoiding the painful side of her face, he cupped her cheek in his hand and placed a gentle kiss on her lips which she faintly reciprocated.

His lips rested on hers as he placed his forehead tenderly against hers. Neither spoke for a while both basking in each other's touch.

The warmth of her skin under his, reminded him she was here. She was back with him. The warmth reminded him how close he had been to losing her up on the mountains.

Blue eyes met his, saying all the words she needed to say to put his mind at rest. That she was back with him and not to beat himself up.

Though the comfort in her eyes turned to concern, ‘Ethan, I. There’s something. I have something I need to tell you ’. There was an intense look on her face as if her thoughts were fighting with each other

He wasn’t sure what was happening. Since getting together both of them had worked together on communication with each other, good or bad.

Ilsa gazed off into the distance seemingly afraid to meet his eye contact. ‘ I was going to tell you back in Denmark but I didn’t want you knowing and risking Lane knowing too. I just need to know that whatever happens, you’ll stay here. Please don’t run as I’m just as scared as you.’

He kept quiet, instead reaching out to hold her hands stilling them from the anxiously fidgeting.

‘I. Ive been noticing symptoms for the last few weeks that i was putting down to the back to back missions, hoping that avoidingg them would make them go away. Ethan. Ive been late for the last few weeks. Ive been tired, hungry and nauseated all the time’, she finally looked back at him letting the words sink in.

He couldnt believe what she was telling him. His mind was numb, he had never thought about this step in his life. Neither of them had so it was inevitable the way they messed around.

The fear of his reaction was scaring her,‘Ethan please say something’.

He seemed lost in his head before that classic Ethan smile adorned his face ‘You’re… pregnant ? We’re having a baby ?’. He seemed to start vibrating with excitement as she guided his hand to rest on her stomach.

"We're having a baby Ethan. We’re becoming parents’

His other hand came to rest under her chin tilting her face towards him, keeping his other resting on her nonexistent bump ‘ I love you. I love you. Whatever you decide to do next I will support you every step of the way. I never thought I’d become a father, but I am so excited to take this path with you’

The emotions were too much to answer him so she pulled him to bring his lips to hers communcting her feelings to him. She was scared of what was to come in the coming months as she stepped into the world of motherhood but she knew that Ethan would be by her side every step of the way.

Swedish translation- nice to see you again. You won't be getting off as easy this time

“Karma is a bitch, isn't it. That hurts, doesn't it?

@radical-sky @izzypuppybutt @justabigassnerd

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brandileigh2003 · 3 months

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Friday snippet (pretend it's not Sunday lol... Bc it's been a lot going on over here 🤣

ty @lavenderhaze for the tag ❤️

I'm working on remus' pov of silence between us ch 1. Check out original if you haven't.

The man spoke again, and what Remus wouldn’t give to know what he said. So he did the next best thing and let the will power go out the window. He wrapped his arms around the other man, and sighed at the warmth and contact. When he pulled back, he noticed the other man was speaking again and he focused as hard as he could, trying to read his lips. On a good day he might catch a word or two. He only really put effort into speech therapy maybe half of the time when he was still made to go. He wanted to be able to function better in the hearing world, but he’d been so angry back then. On top of the frequent absence seizures and his concentration issues from the TBI, he just got so frustrated losing track. But right now. He wished he had tried so much harder. He couldn’t even really catch anything but still stared at his lips.

I dunno, who wants to play? @lucigoo @daffodilsonaprettystring @speck-inthe-void @heartofspells

#wolfstar #marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #fanfic #deaf remus Lupin #disabled remus lupin #fic: silence between us by brandileigh2003 #silence between us #silence within

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shadowthief78 · 10 months

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Going for Dim Sum w/BLLK

I just finished eating i’m so full rn

Just some hcs while i digest.

ISAGI: Good boi, keeps refilling your teacup. Accidentally burns his tongue on xiao long tang bao and whimpers about it. Pretty adventurous, willing to try most stuff, really likes the siu mai and egg tarts (like literally everyone else inthe world does) (egg tart haters dni w/author [lol]).

BACHIRA: Tries to eat at least one of everything even after you warn him that’s a terrible idea. Passes out halfway through one of those huge lotus-leaf-wrapped glutinous rice boiled dumplings and only revives after you dribble half a cup of the degreasing, digestive tea into his mouth with his spoon.

CHIGIRI: Keeps slipping food onto your plate when you aren’t looking. Likes sipping the soup out of the xiao long tang dumplings with the ginger and vinegar. Looks super elegant while doing it as well.

KUNIGAMI: Mouth consistently full of cha sau bao. Eats heartily and keeps reamarking on how well you’ve chosen the dishes. “Here, try this”-es you a lot, like you’re not the one who’s got the most experience.

RIN: Keeps trying to puzzle out what the dishes mean based on their meanings in Kanji. Unfortunately, since kanji and Chinese don’t always match, it leads to some weird questions for you. That’s “beef noodles,” not “beef face” (牛肉面) (yes i know that’s technically not rlly dim sum just let me turn brain off ok?).

REO: Foots the bill. Insists on ordering way too much, probably gets some expensive abalone thing you’ve never tried before. Visibly preens when you refil his teacup or puts food on his plate. Making friends with all the waitresses pushing the carts full of food around by the end.

NAGI: Asks for congee or something since it’s simple and he doesn’t know what he likes (trying new things is a hassle...). Eventually gets entranced with peeling the steamed bao and nibbling on the outsides (aka you hand-feeding him the peels). Asks for dessert soup and pouts when he discovers ginko nut is bitter.

BAROU: Keeps trying to outhost you, the host. You can’t eat all this food. Barou, stop, that’s enough! Have another siu mai or something and let other people have a taste, okay?

KURONA: Munch munch munch. Doesn’t talk much but always chewing when you look over. Gives you the thumbs-up whenever he finds something he likes. Particularly enamored with those super-crispy fried yam balls with mincemeat in the filling.

HIORI: Asks questions about everything and always responds with something along the lines of, “Ah, that’s cool!” Likes the crystal shrimp dumplings (ha gao) the best.

ZANTETSU: Tries to claim the skins of chee cheong fan are something like the remains of silkmaking until you stare at him for too long. No, they’re like a giant steamed rice noodle...

IGARASHI: Distracted by the people rolling out, filling, and pinching dumplings shut in the kitchen.

GAGAMARU: No, he cannot try and carve the Peking duck himself. That’s the waiter’s job. Stares too long at the lobsters and fish in the tanks. No, you will *not* be organizing an aquatic jailbreak of any sort today. Does he want to order something else, or...? Uncanny knack for figuring out what food is in which cart by smell alone.

NANASE: Woah, look at all this new food! So exicitng! Cheeks stuffed all the time, looks adorable while doing it, would probably eat a gravel dumpling if you asked him to. (But it really is all super good, don’t worry about him!)

YUKIMIYA: Tries to communicate in gestures to the staff. Resorts to just smiling a lot. Ends up finishing most of the carrot cake even though he’s not super fond of the yammy taste.

NIKO: Looks like he’s not doing much then when you look back, two full steamer baskets are empty. Salted egg custard supremacy.

KAISER: Tries to get you to feed him by claiming he can’t use chopsticks. You flag down the waitress and ask her for a fork. He gets the only fork they have, a tiny plastic one with a cartoon lion on it, meant for toddlers, and a matching teaspoon + plate. Visibly crestfallen.

#puffin says stuff #blue lock #x reader #food #headcanons #fanfiction #bllk #bllk imagines #bllk x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #im clowning on kaiser 24/7 (unpaid overtime)

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docholligay · 6 months

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Great Circle by Maggie Shipstead

Thank you to @skylineofspace for sponsoring this!

“Marian was real, obviously, but people’s lives don’t get preserved like fossils. The best you can hope for is that time will have hardened around someone’s memory, preserving a void in their shape.” --Great Circle, pg 291

I loved this book. I loved this book so much that a review of it never got written because I felt like anything I had to say about it had to be more involved than anything I had time to offer, and even now I sit here so afraid that I can’t convey what this book gave to me. I think this might be the best book I read this year. I want everyone to read this (and am, in fact, sending this to @rosepetalrevolution as soon as I finish this review)

In a non-spoilery way, I would say that this book is about what it takes to make a legend, a hero, a symbol, and the conseqeunces therein. Single-minded drive is the furnace that drives the train forward, but things must be sacrificed to its firebox. Can a runaway train ever be stopped? Do we, the holders of history, actually want it to be? What relationship to the person does the legend have? There are other things that it can be about, but I would say that is the one overarching idea.

SPOILERS BELOW

Again, I fucking loved this book. I was in love with this book from the first 50 pages. I was so afraid that throughout the whole thing, is was going to drop the ball massively, and I don’t ever feel that it did. I loved Marian, she angered me, I felt a kinship with her and that kinship made me all the angrier.

This line: “It wasn’t that Marian didn’t miss Ruth. Rather, she took her missing and sealed it away. Her natural inclination was to carry on, to think of other things.” This is such a Montana way of thinking about things--my grandmother started selling my grandfather’s things before his funeral, even, not because she DIDN’T love him, but because she DID--and I felt it so keenly and deeply, and it is her strength, and her weakness. One of the things I love about the book is that Marian goes through a great deal of trial but it doesn’t break her. If anything, it makes her spine more iron. BUT the stiffer she gets, the harder it is for her to bend for the love of anyone. “The uninhabited ring of space she’d cultivated around herself begins to feel less like a protective barrier than scorched earth.”

Even Caleb, who knows her heart and manages to keep himself tethered to her the way a ship is to its anchor, bobbing and floating with the tides, in touch even out of sight, a flexible line barely seen inthe water between them, knows that Marian can no longer be anywhere. In response to her saying she envies is ability to stay put and be content, he says: “No, you don’t. If you did, you’d find that place, too. You don’t even let the possibility in.” And he’s right. The person Marian Graves has become has hardened herself so much she is almost a statue, because she has the unhappy reality of having become a legend even before she’s died. She’s a runaway train, now, and there’s no going back, and she must become this beautiful symbol of struggle and womahood and courage. Where would there be room to be simply Marian, stubborn and frustrating and lonely and sad? She has die. There is no other choice she can make, but to die in the attempt. I think even to have completed it would have broken her, in the end, because there would be no more worlds to conquer. Nowhere to go but down, plummeting like a gannet into the sea.

Which is why when i first read this, I did not like that she lived. I understood all the narrative reasons that she had to die, the beauty and the tragedy of it, that once one has committed to becoming a story, one can no longer be a person. That to become Noted Aviator Marian Graves, Marian Graves, orphan, of Missoula, Montana, had to die. It actually only took a few days of distance for me to change my position on that front. Rereading it, i absolutely think the survival is the correct ending, especially the way it’s done, because Noted Aviator Marian Graves DOES die. The book even says she dies twice, she dies and she is reborn to live again as a sheepherder, in peace and in ease. Even when she has money, she simply becomes Alice Root, because she finally does have roots, because she has gone down the rabbit hole. I came to respect it as the perfect end. Peace is possible, yes, if you let go of the glory. And letting go of the glory may be as difficult as letting go of the runaway train, and falling to the river below.

I realize only now that I’ve said nothing about Barclay, in all the things I’ve had to say about Marian. Barclay is a man who is a means to an end and can’t realize it. He is a pawn of god who thinks himself God, and he is pathetic for it. You hate him, and he is made to be hated, but you can almost feel how much he longs to be powerful and how Marian is this wild horse he tinks can be broken and tamed, but if she could be, he wouldn’t want her anymore. I think it says something about the power of Marian as a character that Barclay can only be asked to fade. But for him, she never would have flown, and but for flying, he might have had her, and so the trap he set for her caught his own leg instead. He wants to be so much, but he is just one of a line of people who wanted to love Marian into stillness, but cannot; not him with force; not Ruth with her brightness, not Jamie with his softness, not even Caleb, though he manages the closest by recognizing her for the feral cat she is. Barclay is only one of a line.

I love so much Jamie’s struggle with Sarah, with Marian, with the idea of authenticity, and what can be seen through art. How the truth can be bent through humanity and somehow the arc, the great circle if you will, can be made whole again through reinterpreting the beauty but also the fear and pain through art. The way he loves women who do not see their lives as natural progressions of the choices they’ve made. The way he cannot bear women who not see their lives as natural progressions of the choices they’ve made. I think all the time about that last confrontation with Sarah:

“He saw how she was warmed by her sense of her own goodness. Was he, in the same way, seduced by an idea of his own virtue? How could anyone see clearly through the innate haze of self-righteousness?”

How indeed! I think this is the struggle for all of us, that we, naturally, struggle not to see ourselves as heroes, struggle to see the places where we make excuses, but instead of shrugging that off, Jamie recognizes where he has been made a victim of people who think the way they want to do things is the right way to do them by virtue of them wanting it. And in the moment he worries he might become that, he leaves. He is given the resolution he desires, and I would argue that the resolution isn’t the disappointment of Sarah, but the revealing of his own seduction to becoming her. That is the fear, that he might lose that discernment, that discernment that allows him to be the artist he is. It would be a more comfortable life but a less fulfilling one. Jamie IS his convictions, and I find that extremely compelling as a character idea.

The Hadley portions of the book. What do I think this has to say about the whole story, and why does it exist? It’s tough to say for sure, I think. It is most definitely not the strongest part of this story. The obvious answer is that of course she is the framing device that allows us to reveal Marian’s survival as a surprise to us. Not in a vague foreshadowing kind of sense that she’ll die, but we are told over and over again that she had that tragic death, that she was the that beautiful and brilliant and brief firework, always doomed to this, and that it is part of the beauty of her story. People who live, and grow old, can become disappointing, they can have bad opinions, and their fire can dim to an ember. But those who die young? Who die brave? They get to be at the peak, and conversations about them are enrobed with their gloss and glitter. Hadley is the frame that allows us to see the whole picture.

I do think the Hadley stuff is, on balance, pretty weak. It lacks the vitality and struggle of Marian’s chapters--every time I came across them, I mostly waited for them to be over. And maybe some of this was the point of them. Hadley’s problems are pretty vapid and shallow compared to Marian’s despite having some modern-day semblance of an echo to Marian’s. But she can’t be Marian. There are no Marians here, in 2014, there are only fading movie posters from Not!Twilight or Not!Hunger Games (I don’t remember which and please trust me when i say it’s unimportant) and a vague sense that this movie might be her great trek across the world, the thing that makes it matter, but the stakes will never be high enough for her to become anything from it, and she cannot disappear into the sea and rise fresh, and maybe that’s Hadley’s tragedy. That she can’t choose to die like Noted Aviator Marian Graves.

The descriptions and prose in this book are lush and delicious. There will be plenty of people who comment that this book is far too long, and I know the current thinking is anything over 300 pages needs to be edited down, but I refuse to accept that as being true while people are reading trilogies that are actually the whole story, inflated from 500 pages to 900 to justify their existence. Why, to inflate people’s book count and give them a feeling of accomplishment? Nah, we don’t live that way here. Great Circle has its moments of indulgence to be sure, but the language of it is so glorious that it feels like eating a bit too much fine chocolate: sweet and thick and rich, and even if its a bit much, it can be forgiven for all the pleasure you derive from it. I think of little bits like “felt like swallowing a sparkler” or

The character work sets this book apart from others. The main characters, of course, are laden with idiosyncrasies and hypocrises and all the little things that make us human, delivered in such a loving fashion that as quick as you are to be angry with them, to yell at them, you see the truth of them. You feel the wholeness of them, and you are forced to, if not forgive them, square with the fullness of who they are. But more than that, i think of the very much side character Jackie Cochran, and how we get a backstory of her in ten pages that tells more of her nature than any number of lesser written three hundred page novels. Not only do you get the sense of what Jackie does, but what it says about her, and what it means. It’s in moments like this that I really appreciated the intense craft that Shipstead brings to the table.

There is still so much to say about this novel, and if I were with all the time in the world, it would be interesting to do little thousand word jots every fifty pages, a la the way I’m doing Fata Morgana. But, as the book says, ‘Endlessness is torture, too” and so this will have to suffice, this and the absolute recommendation to read this book. It has such a sense of longing throughout, and of the weight of that stone that builds a legend. There is only one book I’ve read this year that would come into any serious contention for the best book I’ve read this year, and this would beat it soundly if the tiebreaker were which one I enjoyed reading more. Please read it.

#Doc reads #Commission review #a fucking top tier novel #also I am so tired but I will respond to comments on my outfit tomorrow THANK YOU

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aropride · 11 months

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following me simulator ⬇️

aropride Feb 30 2023 - 05:14am • 1 minute ago

Dude itsfuckig 5am ihave to go to bef goodnight #maybe inthe mornig i wontwant to kill myy self #text

2 notes

aropride Feb 30 2023 - 04:41am • 34 minutes ago

aaaaouuuhgh. blorbo . from my shows #text

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aropride Feb 30 2023 - 04:12am • 1 hour ago

#mewhen my actions have consequences .. crazy shit #text

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aropride Feb 30 2023 - 03:51am • 1 hour ago

oh god it will never get better huh it will really never get better i will feel like thisf orever asnd ever #one of those nights #text

2 notes

aropride Feb 30 2023 - 02:47am • 2 hours ago

i loveeeee fanfic like yes.pput those guys in a situation #put those GIRLS in a situation hashtag feminism #text

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aropride Feb 30 2023 - 12:03am • 4 hours ago

how to fill the mother shaped hole in my heart easy cheap free #Please #text

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aropride Feb 29 2023 - 11:57pm • 4 hours ago

i fucking hate writing #text

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aropride Feb 29 2023 - 11:29pm • 4 hours ago

Itsliterally like #text #in ptsdworld .crazy in here

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aropride Feb 29 2023 - 11:13pm • 5 hours ago

go here https://open.spotify.com/track/5HLVrG3xcuAQVwB65hI1GU?si=691b96a8b10345cc #text

14 notes

aropride Feb 29 2023 - 6:29pm • 10 hours ago

like i should honestly drop out i really dont know what im doing in college anymore when i cant evenfucking do any of the work and it makes me want to throw my self out a WINDOW for real but also i cant cuz i cant work a fucking job id genuinely rather die . so its likewhat do i do now lol. WAIT I CANT EVEN DROP OUT IM ON SUSPENSION. im going to fucking kill my self #text #suicide tw

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aropride Feb 29 2023 - 4:17pm • 12 hours ago

the world is so fucking beautoiful. saw a tree today. a bird as well. do not EVER fucking kill your self what if one day its 69º and sunny out #text

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aropride Feb 29 2023 - 3:42pm • 12 hours ago

just had such a good sandwich #text

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aropride Feb 29 2023 - 2:31pm • 13 hours ago

im so fucking scared #text #get me out of here (my brain)

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aropride Feb 29 2023 - 12:19pm • 15 hours ago

to do list: finish writing , sew , pet dog, shower, schedule psych appt, take meds #text

4 notes

aropride Feb 29 2023 - 11:37am • 15 hours ago

goodmornig -_- #i want 2 go back2 bed imstill eepy #text

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#text #long post #fakeposting

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jamiewintons · 1 year

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A Break in Routine (Jamie Winton/F!Reader)

Summary: Jamie’s staying late at work, but with the impending end of the world, all you want is to spend some time with him. Maybe this is your chance to fulfil one of your long-time fantasies?

Tags/Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Desk Sex. Teasing. Fingering. Unprotected Sex. Slightly Dominant Jamie. Mentions of Death/End of the World. Implied Breeding Kink.

A/N: The first of the prompt fills for my request event; the prompts were “Jamie Winton + Desk Sex + Awkward Flirting”. I must admit, the "awkward flirting" part of the prompt kind of got away from me, so I'm instead interpreting it as Jamie reacting to the flirting awkwardly. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Word Count: 2879

Jamie Taglist: @pink-booty-butts, @demontoucansam, @the-fandomgremlin, @glow-inthe-darkstarz, @definetlynotasmutaccount, @thingses-and-stuffses, @jamiewintonmybeloved @clydethesnake @bluedenimbabe @notwhateveriwasbefore (Please fill this form out if you want to be added!)

Well, this is the man I fell in love with, you think to yourself, idly playing with a loose thread hanging off of your skirt. You sigh, looking at him hunched over his desk, scribbling away at some paperwork. Some paperwork that really didn’t need to be done, considering that the world was going to end in approximately two weeks, and everything – this bank, all the paperwork, and the two of you – would be gone, like it had never existed in the first place.

But he loves his routine, and so he continues to show up to work every day even when no one else does. It makes him feel calmer in the face of death, he would insist.

You only wish that Jamie had instead decided to spend all of the time he had left with you, but at least he’d conceded today, and asked if you could stay by his side while he worked. Unfortunately, he decided he needed to stay late tonight, and as the evening became later and later, you grew increasingly impatient. Jamie was so focused on his work that he hadn’t noticed any of your exaggerated, exasperated sighs, which had been all a ploy to grab his attention.

This just won’t do. You’re determined that you’re going to tick at least one thing off of your bucket list before that comet destroys everything. So quietly, you stand up, removing your jacket and draping it over the back of your chair. Jamie doesn’t seem to notice that you had moved.

To demand his attention, you break the silence - which had been lingering for at least half an hour at this point - first by clearing your throat, and then by speaking up. “I think you should take a break,” you tell him, keeping your tone soft and relatively neutral. You don’t want him to know exactly what you’ve got in store for him just yet.

Jamie’s hand doesn’t cease moving, continuing to focus on the paperwork even as he speaks to you. You cross your arms over your chest, mildly irritated at not being his top priority. “I’m almost done, sweetheart. I know you’ve been waiting a long time, but I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

“You said that an hour ago, Jamie,” you say, with yet another sigh.

Now it’s Jamie's turn to sigh, and you can tell from his eyes that he feels guilty, but his gaze is still locked firmly on the paper in front of him. “I know. I’m really sorry, but I do mean it this time.”

“Well… this is important, and it can’t wait.” Finally deciding that it’s time to just take what you want, you put yourself between Jamie’s chair and his desk, blocking his view of his work. Your boyfriend looks up at you with confused eyes, only for you to lean towards him, your lips so close to his ear that they touch it when you begin to seductively whisper. “I want you to fuck me, Jamie.” Your hand rests on his thigh now, and you feel him tense beneath you. “On this desk. Right now.”

With how close you are to him, you can hear his breath quicken at your words. You smile to yourself, your hand taking a firmer grip on his thigh. Jamie blinks rapidly, trying to find the words to respond to what you’ve just said. “Love, we… we can’t do that…”

“Why not?” you ask him, and pull back to be able to look into his eyes as he considered his answer. His cheeks had gone that shade of pink that you loved, nearly the same shade as those pink boxers he always wore. You trailed your hand further up his thigh, getting dangerously close to his already hardening cock. “Come on, are you seriously telling me that you’ve never thought about it?”

Jamie stays silent, the blush on his cheeks only getting brighter and brighter. He awkwardly fidgets with the buttons of his jacket, trying not to betray the fact that he definitely has thought about it. When the day was getting far too stressful and he knew that you were the only one who could bring him any comfort. Or when you’d come into the bank to visit him, and his eyes couldn’t help but linger on the parts of your thighs he could see, uncovered by your short skirt. He’d certainly thought about it, but it was just that; a fantasy. One that shouldn’t be replicated in real life, owing to how utterly inappropriate it was to have sex at work.

“You haven’t thought of me kneeling down under your desk, unzipping your trousers and taking you into my mouth? No one else can know what I’m doing, so you have to try and keep a straight face when I’m making you feel so good?” Your hand leaves Jamie’s thigh, and his eyes flicker up to you, mourning the loss of contact. Instead, you shift his paperwork out of the way, and take a seat on his desk right in front of him. “You haven’t thought of sweeping everything off the desk and fucking me on top of it? Because I certainly have. Every time I step foot in this place. After I leave, I always find myself needing to, well… take care of business.”

Jamie takes a sharp inhale, overwhelmed by the fact that every time you visit him at work, you end up touching yourself to the thought of him fucking you on his desk. Part of him wonders how long you would wait to do it. Would you wait until you got back home? Or did you sometimes find yourself so turned on that you couldn’t help yourself but do it in your car, before you could even think about driving home? He swears under his breath as those images invade his mind. Already, his resolve is beginning to slip, and the paperwork he’d been trying to finish seems far, far away, to the point that he barely remembers it.

You know that Jamie is so close to giving in, and you’re so close to getting what you want. You cross one of your legs over the other, drawing his attention to your thighs, before speaking again. “Come on, honey, what’s the harm? It’s just the two of us here, the place is all locked up… you can do whatever you want to me, and no one will see or hear us.”

With that last push, something in Jamie’s eyes changes and before you even know it, he’s on his feet and pushing your legs apart so he can fit in between them. One hand tangles in your hair as he crashes his lips against yours with an almost bruising roughness, while the other rapidly slides up your thigh until it’s beneath your skirt and the tips of his fingers are millimetres away from touching your panties. You smile into the kiss, feeling Jamie’s very prominent erection, and you bring your hand down to brush your fingers against it through the fabric of his trousers. At this contact, Jamie deepens the kiss further, making you whimper and leaving you breathless.

Jamie’s just about to push you down onto the top of the desk, but suddenly he notices all of his work supplies and stationary still in their proper places sitting on the surface. “Hold on, I, uh… I need to get this out of the way.” To your surprise and horror, Jamie pulls away from you, starting to pick up all of his things and placing them meticulously on the other end of the desk. It baffles you to understand how he could even have the presence of mind to think about a few pens and sticky notes when you can barely think at all.

For a few moments, you simply watch him as he goes along, neatly rearranging things. It’d probably be funny if you weren’t so horny, but you were so you could hardly see the humour in it. When Jamie gets close enough to you, and he reaches out to grab the stapler that was beside your leg, you take hold of his wrist and stop him in his tracks.

“I’ve been waiting patiently all day,” you tell him, pouting. He opens his mouth to say something, probably about how it would take just a little bit longer for him to be done, you quickly cut him off. “None of this stuff is going to matter for much longer, Jamie. Please, don’t keep me waiting. I need you.”

Jamie hesitates. His eyes flicker between your face - as you look up at him with pleading eyes, flushed cheeks, and biting your bottom lip - and the stapler beside you. Then he looks again. And once more. After that, it only takes a few more seconds of consideration before he pulls you off the desk and brushes all of the remaining items off of it with a sweep of his arm. You barely even hear the sound of work supplies clattering onto the floor, before he lifts you onto the desk and pushes you back so that you’re laying down on the surface.

His lips are on yours in an instant, though they don’t linger there for long. Soon his kisses are trailing down to your jawline and then to your neck, where he sucks a mark into the sensitive flesh. All the while his hand slips back under your skirt, grabbing at your panties and pulling them down your legs. You do your best to lift your lower body up to make it easier to remove them, though it’s a little difficult with Jamie on top of you. He manages to get the pesky garment out of the way, letting them fall to the floor before his fingers are teasing at your already soaked entrance.

You moan loudly as one long finger slips inside of you, your hand gripping onto the fabric of Jamie’s shirt. A similar noise escapes Jamie when he feels how tight and wet you are, even around just a single digit. He begins moving his hand, eager to stretch you out so you’ll be able to take him. A second finger quickly joins the first, and before long, a third one does too. You’re squirming and whining as Jamie prepares you, wrapping your legs around him so tightly that it’s difficult for him to pull away.

He manages however, and once he’s withdrawn his fingers from you, you sit up a little so you can watch as he unbuckles his belt, before pulling his trousers and boxers down just enough to free his painfully hard cock from its confines. “Are you ready?” he asks, his voice slightly deeper than usual, and you immediately squeak out an affirmative answer, your eyes locked on his intimidating length. Once you’ve given your consent, he’s back between your legs and flipping your skirt up, before slowly, carefully pushing inside of you.

It stings a bit as you struggle to take him in - though that's true every time you have sex, regardless of how much time he puts aside to prepare you - and once he’s completely sheathed inside, you close your eyes tightly and grasp Jamie’s shoulder, adjusting to the feeling of being so ridiculously full. As you do so, Jamie presses his face against the side of yours, whispering soft, soothing praises in your ear as his large hands massage your thighs in an attempt to make you feel more comfortable. With each passing second, the pain fades away, and is replaced with a burning desire for him to just start moving already. For him to fuck you until you’re both pushed over the edge.

A quiet, strained “Jamie, please”, seems to get the point across, and he pulls back to look at your face, wanting to make sure that you’re ready. You nod, a whimper escaping you, and you brace yourself as both of his hands come to hold your hips.

Jamie starts off with slow, shallow thrusts - though they’re more than enough to have you gasping out loud, and scrambling to wrap your legs around his midsection once again. You tuck your arms beneath Jamie’s own, digging your fingernails into his shoulders through the fabric of his shirt.

His lips find their way back to yours, your messy, open-mouthed kisses only being interrupted by the moans being pulled from both of you as Jamie begins to speed up the pace of his hips. With every thrust he’s managing to hit that sweet spot inside of you, making you squeeze him tighter with both your legs and hands.

Eventually the kisses become impossible to maintain, with how you’re practically gasping for air, so Jamie’s lips return to your neck, gently nipping and sucking and marking you even more. Now his pace is getting faster, rougher, and it’s making your head spin. You try to speak, to beg for him, but all that comes out is semi-coherent babbling; sobbed out curse words and the word “please” over and over.

Jamie knows that you’re close. He can feel it from the way you’re squeezing around him unbelievably tight, how your hands are struggling to find purchase against his shoulders but your grip is failing. All you need is that last little push and he has to do it quickly, because he knows that he’s going to come soon too, and he’ll be damned if he finishes before you’re satisfied.

He manages to pry himself from your grip and you whine at the loss of contact, but once he’s pulled back a bit and begun rubbing circles on your aching clit with his thumb, you’re no longer complaining. This combined with his deep, rough strokes has you coming hard within moments, bucking your hips up against his as your cunt pulsates around his cock. Jamie does his best to go on for as long as he can, to prolong your climax as much as possible, but soon enough it’s too much for him. He buries himself inside you as far as he can, his hips stilling with a long, breathless moan of your name as he fills you with his cum.

You feel almost like you’re seeing stars as you come down from your high, your chest moving up and down harshly. Jamie’s peppering soft kisses all over your face, murmuring sweet praises and pet names into your skin as he struggles to steady his breathing as well. Once you feel in control of yourself again you smile contentedly, bringing your hands up to run your fingers through his impossibly soft hair. You stay like that for who knows how long, just enjoying the feeling of being so close, so connected.

However it eventually becomes uncomfortable to remain in your current position, so Jamie has to slowly pull out, his legs still a little shaky from his orgasm. He looks down, and watches with barely contained interest as some of his cum leaks from your spent pussy, considering trying to push some of it back inside with his fingers - definitely because he was concerned about making a mess, and no other reasons - but decides against it on the grounds that you’re probably feeling too sensitive.

As he tucks himself back into his pants, Jamie feels worn out, but there’s no way he’s as exhausted as you look; nearly passed out there on his desk. Still, you give him that warm, loving smile, making him feel a little giddy, even after what you’ve just done. He has no idea why he’d been bothering with boring paperwork when he could be spending all of his time with you.

“I hate to say I told you so…” you begin, smugly but sweetly, and Jamie can’t help but let out a quiet laugh.

“But you did tell me so.” Jamie leans down to pick up your underwear, and when he’s standing back up again, he just happens to glance at his watch and his eyes widen. “Shit, I didn’t realise how late it was. We need to get home.”

He looks around at the mess he left when he swept everything off the desk and briefly considered tidying it up, but then his gaze returned to you. Who cares about a few bits of stationery and paperwork? All he wants to spend all the time he has left with you. In his last moments, was he going to be thinking about the bank and how he wished he’d cleaned up, or was he going to think of all the things he missed doing with you?

Jamie knows his answer, and he doesn’t know why he had been spending so much time and energy on something that in the grand scheme of things, didn’t even matter. With that thought on his mind, he picks up his bag, wanting to get you home and cook you a nice dinner. “Ready to head home, love?”

“Uh, Jamie?" you say, as you try and then fail to sit up. He's right there in an instant, tenderly stroking your arm as he looks at you with concern in his eyes. "I think you’re going to have to carry me to the car. Not sure if I can still walk after that.”

Jamie grins. “Of course.”

#jamie winton x reader #jamie winton imagine #jamie winton fluff #jamie winton smut #jamie winton fanfiction #ymata imagine #you me and the apocalypse imagine #ymata fanfiction #you me and the apocalypse fanfiction #x reader smut #x reader fic #x reader fanfiction #mari's stuff #nsft text

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brainimpediment · 1 year

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ok maybe. I shoudl make a proper intro 4 thrs account. Long post warning!! Feel free to scroll past everything, but take care to read the intro and disclaimers at least :]

haii I’m brainimpediment… u can call me brainimp or brain or imp or whateva u want… iam more active on my Instagram @breanimpediment !! IALSO haev a few other socials but I rllay don’t use them eithr..,,ask 4 them if u want 2 💥💥

Any pronouns EXCEPT She/Her, and please use He/Him primarily.

>My ask box is always opened! I love answering questions or just reading goofy things u send me, so feel free to send an ask whenever you want!!!

Visit my neocities! I have a detailed list of my interests as well as a personal blog for discussing videogames and more! ->

Euuuurm icant thrnj of any other info 2 include sorr 💔💔 if u wanr 2 learn more u can ask ! Me ! I do nawt mind!!!

I may post art here MAYBE.,,, idk depends,,,,, tumblr haas always confused me so idk 💥💥💥 thx. 4 checkinf me out . I think! miscellaneous disclaimers below :3 ⬇️

STRICT PROSHIP & RPF DNI. pls send me a dm or ask if i accidentally reblog from som1 dubious :))

Also would rather not have 18+/nsfw blogs follow and interact w me since I’m underage + generally just mkes me uncomfortable . Sorr

If u have provlems wirh eyestrain, epilepsy, flashing lights, loud/overwhelming sounds, ironic posting that isn’t always tagged w tone indicators (I don’t usually use them but will if necessary!!!!) n sensory overwhelming stuff in general, u may nawt wanna follow :( I tend to post this type of stuff regularly adn I am very sensory seeking (? Is that the word? Idk.) .,, i will try my best to tag anything that could potentially be harmful tho! And if u have a specific cw or tw u need me to tag posts and reblogs with then!! Send me a dm or ask!! Iwont mind :)

ALSO!! I have a. Typing. Thing. I hesitate to call it a typing quirk but I guess it is??? Idk. I just almost always purposefully misspell words a certain way when I speak online. So, my posts r usually pretty difficult to read unless ur me,, if this is a significant problem then. I can like.. “transcribe” my posts for u guys :3 idk.,!! If thay doesn’t work and we need to figure out something more accessible then lmk!! AUSGHHGHHH. I can type perfectly fine English though, if you were wondering. (I am American)

Sorry thay thisis so loke. Out of order. I’m typing this at 1 inthe morning currently . :3 again, thx 4 checkinf me out :3 do not b afraid to message or interact w me !! I enjoy making new mutuals and sruff:3 💥💥

#braingames - videogame talk ( like. Gamedev / game design / game collection / etc. )

#useurbrain - posts I wanna go back to later or are useful/informative/interesting reads

#braindump - answering asks!!

#brainwash - queued posts

#nobrainer - important disclaimers, notices, idk stuff like that.

#braincore - me core posts or jst things I like severely

#brainfavs - othr people’s art and creations :]

#brainart - my own art

#brainrot - miscellaneous textposts idk

#brimp - other miscellaneous things I make or post, like edits or stuff, or just posts of mine I like a lot. Idk.

#long post #blog intro #idk why I’m tagging this but why not ? iguess #thinking abt making a seperate thing so this huge block of text isn’t here evry time u go to my blog #I’ll figure it out idk!#nobrainer #I made all the grady stamps! take them if u want!!

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impossibleprincess35 · 7 months

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The Echo and the Stain | ch 10

[Excerpt:]

Obi-Wan looked up and saw his master give him an apologetic smile before he slipped out into the corridor, leaving him alone at last with his thoughts. In the solitude of the room, listening to the humming of the equipment and the vibrations all around him in the bulkheads and under his feet, the padawan tried to think of something else, anything else.

But all he could think about was her.

He didn’t like her.

Absolutely not.

He had felt sorry for her.

She had required comfort, and as he was a compassionate padawan aiming to become a Jedi Knight of the Republic, it was natural that he assisted and tried to ease her anxieties and her fears.

But then, the scent of her hair came back to the forefront of his mind and his thoughts explored how she searched out to anchor herself to him in her sleep, wrapping her arm around him and pressing her cheek against him fiercely.

Only earlier, when she had slid off her rucksack and onto the forest floor in a clumsy display of uninhibited bliss, Satine had felt perfectly at ease at his side, and he hadn’t understood why there was no urgency from him to shove her away.

It was easy to blame the namana fruit, and maybe it was the fruit.

Then again, maybe Obi-Wan had liked the comfort of her lying next to him. The closest he had ever come to that feeling was once before when Siri Tachi had fallen to the floor mats in the padawan dojo and reached over to playfully pin him down in place. As she had knocked him back onto his shoulder blades and leaned her weight against his chest, he had thought of things..

..like putting his arms around her firmly and rolling her over onto her back, seeing if she would let him get away with that. If so, would she have let him kiss her? Would he have been any good at kissing? How fast would he have been able to untie her belts and pull off her training tunic, he had wondered.

Chapter 10 is up!

FTR, since I got a nice feral hate comment from someone who loaaaathes my interpretation of Obi-Wan and Satine, here's the thing:

My padawan Obi-Wan is a rule follower to the inth-degree because he's got self-esteem issues (not getting assigned a master as fast as all your buddies will do that to you), and he struggles a bit with his own internal worth. He's not out here fucking everything in the Temple because dude can't get out of his own head.

My young Satine Kryze is a girl who was the black sheep who was undermined subconsciously as a child for being "weak," when in reality, she is incredibly strong and complex and worthy. But at the same time, she is slow to trust, she is guarded, and as a result, she is a bit.. sheltered in some ways.

If your favorite take on Obi-Wan is a feral padawan fuckmaster who sleeps with everything, then you're gonna hate this fic.

And if your Satine is a confident, bold, sexually-open, extrovert who fucking slaaaays all day, you're gonna hate this, too.

(There's nothing wrong with those character takes, either. I love all of them. But you're just not going to find that here.)

So, please, go out into the world today and be kinder than your comment was to me, 'cause I'm old and I'll just write them even MORE like you hate them because I'm a stubborn hag and I do what the fuck I want (*evil cackling laugh*), but you might say some shit like that to someone who is out there searching for a shred of validation from a stranger, and you could really fuck up someone's vibe.

#the echo and the stain #obitine #obi wan x satine #fanfic #thank you for coming to my TED talk

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lavender-waters · 1 year

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small concept art yayy

inthe comic i want it to be mostly in the dreams ovbiously but i also wanted to make episodes of uro going outside and i was thinking of adding npcs as real people in their world. dreams take inspiration from things you see or happen irl so i think many npcs in uros dream world are inspired by people they see irl when they go out.

also btw in my headcanon uro is not a hikikomori and goes outside often justso you know lol

#yume 2kki #tako otoko

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ritzcuit · 1 month

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since you cant find any ask prompts i'll just ask you a random question. what drew you to Datz as a character specifically? i love him a lot but i'm always curious to know what people vibe with when it comes to their favorite characters

AW hearts... thank you:3

its been a long time since i first met him so ill try to remember.. ik an ace attorney rp group i was in, the few ppl there who had played soj were talking about Gay Datz, so when i wanted to pick up a new muse i was like "that datz dude seemed silly (and we already had a dhurke) so ill just go watch soj for him:3" and then the horrors started

obviously he's an extremely likeable character but he was like the perfect storm of tropes i already liked + tropes i didnt even know i liked yet... him being the funny comedic relief is endearing but it's all the underlying Coolness of him that i just became obsessed with. and the loyalty. the loyalty i think altered my mind permanently. "right hand man" is like a trigger phrase for me being obsessed with a character now LMFAOOO HE BROKE MEEEE. i didnt even know i cared abt loyal guys before him!!! before datz i just cared abt delinquents and criminals

but god he's just so COOL ISNT HE!! his big ass kukri and the confident smug uncle way he peels apples... it really makes me nostalgic for the kind of guys i idolized when i was younger (and still do lmfao) i know he's in nepal-ish-area but he'd be 100% at home with my appalachian family.. the kind of guy who has infinite stories about anything and Probably half of them are made up but he's your uncle so you're gonna listen... bc he's the coolest ever.

PLUS if you put any thought into datz at all, like, the fact that he's made to be the way the player learns about dhurke's (and the kids) past, its like ... Ok but how do YOU know what their childhood was like huh?! and immediately you get this idea that datz is like, a seriously loyal guy who cares not just abt The Cause, but this whole little family dhurke has... that + the way datz solemnly and seriously mourns tahrust drives me CRAZY !!! LOOK AT HIM WITH HIS GENUINE FEELINGS!!!! AND HIS DEPTH!!!ARGH!!! IM GOING TO EAT A TABLE!!!!

and the more i talked abt him with my equally obsessed friends and fleshed out what kind of a Guy he must be, like.. piecing together "ok well if he helped look for apollo's mother after the fire, when dhurke was being accused of Literal Treason, then he must already have been close friends with dhurke or otherwise trust him for some reason...moreover dhurke must have trusted him at least a little..." it paints him as such a capable and loyal guy....Bro he devoted half of his life on this world to dhurke and his cause... his exmilitary history and outdoorsy guy tendencies helping dhurke live on the outskirts of khura'in.....

(trembling)and inthe concept art creator comments in the soj artbook it makes a mention of how datz being the moodmaker of the revolution is what kept it going for so long HELPPPP DATZ!!! DAAAAAATZ!!! ok this isnt even from the game anymore LMAO

short answer is i think he was concocted in a lab to make me, specifically, mentally ill

#NELNKDFGN THANK U FOR THE ESSAY PROMPT. APPARENTLY!!!#his humor isnt really a big part of it in hindsight huh??#i do like his humor too its just that everyone in ace attorney is funny and absurd.#but datzs sheer goofass behaviors are also rly endearing. He is literally always doing some shit #he was insanely fun to roleplay too bc of that. god i miss him

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myskyperevenge · 2 years

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it's been a few days since i went up here. ive been informed that its kind of telling the extent to which im touched like deeply in my heart over the boring ugly ass places i spend my time but like lets be real here most people are basically on some hot mindless bullshit vis a vis beauty like youve got people talking about like. fucking. what. literally the most boring shit ever like just incapable of forming a single relationship with anything theyve ever seen unless they've been given the wordless "okay" for it from the world at large like people wear fucking makeup and shit. thats whats really gay i think.

theres a circle of nothing around the facility just boxing you in same way the heat does you know, which makes sense because no one wants to live around this place for the same reasons no one wants to live by an airport or a cemetery or anywhere drugs are produced in significant numbers, all of which they also do out here btw. lol. anyway it's a chain; youre contained first by the heat then by the machinery and then by miles of space, empty space not even horse trails or makeshift shooting ranges or nothing like that. you dont come out here you know theres no lights.

anyway personally i think there's a lot to be said for walking on something huge and hollow. i'm pretty significantly underweight and shorter than the average adult male even though thats what i am and i wasnt expecting the metal underneath me to cave but it did. nothing gave way of course but there's something interesting about the feeling of the "ground" literally caving in under your feet. im vaguely conscious that i should be afraid of this, but that's just another sensation.

the lights are off color here but your presence makes every one of them feel like a halo shining down. i dont make a habit of thinking about or expressing my feelings but sometimes i do feel them and i think you're a dumb bitch for asking any more of me than that

churning and gurgling under the dented metal beneath my feet is laid over by the dull roar of the fans. the wind blows and from what cant be less than five stories above the ground i look down and watch him move. it's always fascinated me the way clothing can frame a body; he looks different than he did before. i'd smile but i don't feel like it. thats okay though

used to spend a lot of time thinking about places like this and the consequences of spending lots of time in them. i want to get my fingers into places like this even if it pinches and burns. now's a really good time for us to split a cigarette you know. sit down a minute. 20$ says you wont see more than 7 or 8 cars on the road going through here the whole time we're up watching. it's got to mean something to someone but im honestly just cool hanging out with you. no big deal yk i just dont get out that often anymore so i get sentimental real easy like its so gay.

so yeah slickdirk. this is a little rambly and shit im not apologizing here just like giving a warning im typing this up inthe library after an early early morning /late late night shift cuz the electric in my unit is off and its hot as ass in there so fuck that basically. anyway

before i say anything more of course ive got to specify that i'm totally riffing off of tumblr user @youabandonedthem for my slick characterization here. but honestly it doesn't feel like characterization it's more like dear beloved sweet yat has the only meaningful understanding of slick anyone has ever had in the world like i mean come on look at that fucking blog youre kidding me and also stupid as fuck if you think thats even an interpretation of the character its just straight up factual. jackass. anyway im all over it hope its ok to namedrop you here dont be a stranger and all that.

similarly shoutout to dear beloved sweet @ottiliere for her dirk characterization which is similarly the only dirk that could possibly matter to me like most of everyone else who posts about him seems to have just not read homestuck some of the people writing meta about him even just have no grasp on ANY of the characters if were being real here but thats way off topic anyway otti owns i dont usually give a shit about aus but if its good its good and if you deny it youre nothing basically.

i dont think anyone has given love to tmc the way yat does and i don't think anyone has really put their heart into making weird niche homestuck art the way ottiliere does (at least not in this era like ive been OVER this before if youve ever talked to me we are living in a post-post-homestuck society). which makes sense because the vast majority of modern fans (of anything) are altogether much more boring breed. no plumage or patterns or anything fun. but thats another thing. and also overly pessimistic of me but whatever i feel like if someone reads that and feels like theyre being called boring its because they know somewhere that theyre boring and missing out and maybe thats their wakeup call to start getting silly with it. or maybe no one cares i dont know i dont give a shit.

anyway the intitial interest in slickdirk was generated pretty specifically in the context of the two of them being psych warded together. typically this prospect alone would be like harlequin novel parody fanfiction type shit such that i wouldnt have any interest in it, but this was different from the get go on the basis that their interactions were never initially about romance.

dirk is self aware to the point of walking backwards. he's self obsessed, self conscious, hyperfixated-in the true sense-on how he presents himself. like all people like this, he's also constantly telling on himself. i'm speaking in terms of canon and otti's dirk here btw, this is true of both fundamentally. in terms of otti's vision specifically, though…it's dialed up, right.

people who think about themselves like this are inherently isolated from other people because, regardless of how they feel about themselves, they're very convinced they're better than everyone else. being in an institution full of other sick people can spur this line of thinking regardless of how untrue it is; once you've decided you're above the rest of the BRAINBROKE FREAKS around you, it's hard to even start to empathize with any of them! if you look back at some of otti's older posts you can kind of feel the extent to which dirk doesn't want jackshit to do with nothing going on in the hospital like just obviously has no interest in participating or anything like that in any capacity.

slick on the other hand like. really i can't write any of this without referencing yat's house essay about the midnight crew watching house and specifically spades slick watching house and how he would feel about it. forget everything i just said and go read that and then come back. okay so he obviously thinks about himself and his body and very specifically his disability in such a way that he is basically completely unaware of it in spite of living with it day to day. if you know what kind of guy im talking about here you know but also im going on good faith here assuming you read the youabandonedthem papers so even if you dont KNOW you should at least have kind of an idea what im referring to here.

the big draw between these two is that they're both in completely different subtypes of denial about themselves to vastly different effects. of course they'd be drawn to each other in this scenario…they're literally the ONLY NORMAL people in the whole building uhh have you seen the other guys in here. lol like what even.

and the thing is that even following up the initial theorized meeting in the ward, like, there's all this potential for what could come after…don't get it twisted this isn't some edgy folie a deux that im suggesting that would be so boring.

they're more than "bad for each other" even if they're not quite "good for each other" either. it isn't about an endgame or even necessarily "shipping" as a lot of people think of it. it's more like…the ways their differences and similarities line up feel aligned, even though it wasn't intentional, the same way some moments just feel "right". it isn't about how long the moment lasts or what its impact is, just that there was a moment where there wouldn't have been one if even a few tiny things had shifted. life is comprised of shit like that right. so when something like slickdirk comes along you can either balk at the absurdity of it or ride the wave.

orjust like passively observe thats an option too of course. no big deal it could literally never ever be a big deal im literally just out here trying to have fun trying to make myself laugh yk.

#dirk strider #homestuck #spades slick #putting something interesting in the tags youre super welcome but like dont think too much of it its no big deal to me #i sympathize i sympathize with you i made my mind i made my mind

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